❤️ i will fix your heart ❤️

18+

[ozzgin]

Ozz pls I cant locate obvious alien x conspiracy theorist human anywhere pls helpp 😃🧍‍♀️✌️

Ps

-🪵🤖

Here's the original post where anon graced us with the idea. The Alien boyfriend from this snippet got a crossover comic here, featuring our strange coworker.

No idea if I've added them to the masterlists yet, I've...uh...been postponing the big update since October last year. So there's a lot of content missing. Sorry about that. :')

[atsukikoo]

Always Forever

viltrumite!Mark Grayson x male!reader

Summary: You and Mark Grayson were neighbors and childhood best friends, until he has to move away one day for reasons unknown to you. But when he came back, he came back differently, not just as your friend but also as an alien ready to conquer the Earth and its inhabitants. There was just one more stranger thing though, Mark’s undeniable favoritism towards you.

Wc: 7.9k

Requested by anon

He couldn’t help but still remember your face. Your voice. Your laugh. He didn’t know what to think. It was like you haunted every single one of his thoughts. Mark hadn’t seen you in years yet for some reason you still mattered so much to him. Maybe it was because you were his first and only friend before he was brought to the viltrum empire by his father. Whenever he had one of those sleepless nights, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling, Mark couldn’t fight reminiscing about your first encounter with him.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Mark jumped at the sound of a boy’s voice. His head rose to the fence and spotted you, using your arms to just barely hang over the edge. Your hair was messy, and there was dirt smudged on your face, but what else do you expect from a kid.

The day you first talked to him was one of those days where Mark would take a random sheet or something close enough to resemble a cape, and run around his backyard, pretending to be a superhero like his dad. He had to prepare for when he finally got his powers of course.

Sure, it got a little bit lonely playing by himself, but he still knew how to make it fun.

“Hey, are you deaf or something? What are you doing?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

Mark cleared his throat, feeling slightly embarrassed. “Just playing.”

“You look like a superhero.” You tilted your head, looking closely at his makeshift cape. “I like it. I like playing hero too. My parents tell me I won’t get powers anytime soon though.” You pouted but then looked up again with a smile, revealing a few missing teeth. “But it’s fun to pretend. Can I join you? Do you wanna be friends?” You leaned in more, getting even closer to fall of the edge.

“Uhh.” Mark’s eyes looked back and forth. No kid has ever talked to him as eager as you, let alone ask to play with him. Plus, his dad told him friends would distract him from training, but it wouldn’t hurt having at least one friend? “Okay, we can be friends. Do you want to- oh.”

Mark could only stare at you who just fell face first into the dirt and into his backyard.

“I’m okay!” You exclaimed, springing back onto your feet and dusting yourself off.

“You’re kinda weird.” Mark commented.

“At least I’m not grumpy like you.” You thought back to the times you’ve seen him before. When you moved in, you had spotted him. On your way to school you saw him. And it was clear as day he wasn’t the sociable type, more like his dad than his mom. “Come on, let’s do something! I have so many ideas.” You grabbed his hand, walking around his yard for the first time.

From that moment on, you two were what was considered best friends. Each other’s only friends, but still best friends nonetheless.

Your days would be spent with only each other. You two would make capes and masks together, and then get yelled at by your mother for messing up her sheets and getting them dirty. When Mark would come over to your house, you’d show off your superhero action figures, which were a mix of bought and handmade. The both of you would also watch superhero moves together, beg which ever parent was watching over you two to let you guys stay up longer, and then fall asleep in less than ten minutes, resting on top of each other.

But even as you two grew closer, Mark made sure to keep that his father had powers and that he would (hopefully) eventually get powers, a secret. After all his dad told him that as long as he didn’t tell you the truth, he could continue being friends with you. And he would do anything to still be with you.

In fact, Mark seemed to care about you a lot when you were kids. Maybe it was because you were his only friend, or maybe it was because of something deeper than that.

The first clear sign was when you two were playing in your backyard instead of his.

You had brought him over to ‘show him something cool.’ The last thing he was expecting was an ant hill with thousands of tiny ants scurrying around. He couldn’t understand it. They were just ants. They only lasted for a few weeks before dying, and that’s if they die naturally. They couldn’t produce thoughts like you and he could or advance as a society. So insignificant, and yet you were enamored.

You crouched down, letting one of the ants crawl on top of your finger, which you brought close to yours and Mark’s face.

“You know what my dad told me? He said that ants have their skeleton on the outside. Isn’t that crazy?” You looked up at him with an expectant smile, though deep down you knew he could never be as excited over an animal’s anatomy like you.

You moved your hand and arm around, keeping your eye on the ant which was running around your forearm. “I wonder how deep their colony is. Their queen is probably- Ow!” You winced and flinched at the sudden feeling of the ant biting into your skin.

Mark’s eyes widened at the sound of your pain. His hand reached out and wrapped around your arm, crushing the ant that bit you in an instant, and his heel immediately smashing into the ant hill and angrily digging into it, causing the lines of ants to turn into frantic chaos.

“Mark! Stop!” You took a hold of him and pulled him back. Both of you fell to the ground.

“Why would you do that?” You both asked each other in union. Your tone upset while your friend’s tone was frustrated.

“That ant hurt you.” Mark spoke first. “I’m not just going to let it go free after doing that. It and its friends deserved it.” His eyes stared daggers into the destroyed ant hill. “They’re weak anyways.”

“That doesn’t matter.” You frowned. “It was probably just scared or something. It didn’t know any better.” You also looked at the remains of the ant hill but with a more solemn expression, which Mark couldn’t help but notice.

If it were any other scenario, Mark would’ve just left it, no remorse, no regret. The world was survival of the fittest, that was what his father told him anyways.

But with you around, it was different. The sight of you sitting up and holding your knees up to your chest. The sight of you just about to burst into tears, for some reason. Was too much for him.

“I’m sorry.” Mark remembered that his mom told him that was what people say when they make someone feel bad. “We can… rebuild the hill or something.”

You sniffed and rubbed your nose. “Okay.”

As the two of you built the highest hill possible, your smile slowly grew back, giving Mark a sense of relief. As long as you were happy, he was happy. You were his only connection to human life rather than his viltrumite heritage. So it wasn’t surprising he’d mirror you in some ways.

Life was good with you in it. You were like a ray of sunshine he never knew he needed. Things just felt so light with you compared to with his father. Especially when you laughed. Like how you did when he covered himself in duct tape and called himself duct tape man. You, being the good friend you were, stayed with him while his mom carefully removed it from his sensitive skin.

Mark missed those days. Where his only concerns were finishing the food he didn’t like and if you were okay. Now… it was conquering worlds for the viltrumite empire. He understood it was his duty though, his responsibility as a viltrumite. That was just how it was.

Mark opened his eyes at the call of his name and sat up immediately.

His father stood before him. “It’s time.”

Though short, those simple words were more than enough for Mark to understand what was going on.

He was finally going to return to Earth. To you.

“I understand, Father.” He nodded, standing up, his hands behind his back.

“I’ll be waiting outside.” Nolan said before disappearing in an instant.

Mark peeked his head out of his door, looking left and right before going back in and locking it. He looks around his room one more time, just for the feeling of reassurance. Mark crouched to the floor and reached under his bed, pressing a specific tile. A small cube shaped container rose. Mark grabbed the dear object and sat on his bed, examining the item.

A small action figure. Perfect condition, at least the same condition from when he got it. From you to him.

“You’re moving?” You stood at the front door that Mark opened after your constant knocking. “How come you didn’t tell me?” Your tone heartbroken. Who knew finally getting his powers would lead to this.

“I didn’t know how to.” Mark’s voice was quiet. He wanted to tell you the truth at that moment more than any other.

“Will we still be able to play together?”

“… I don’t think so.” How could he still play with you if he was light years away in another planet?

“I’ll miss you.” Your voice cracked. You had tried not to cry but at that point you couldn’t help yourself. You stepped forward and hugged him tight, which Mark reciprocated after settling into it.

“I’ll miss you too.” Mark muttered into your shoulder.

You backed off him and shoved something into his hands. It was an action figure of you two’s favorite superhero from your guy’s favorite show. He hadn’t noticed you holding onto it until that moment.

“I want you to keep this. Use and make other friends, but don’t forget about me, okay?” You wiped away your tears with your sleeve. “And when we see each other again when we’re older, you can give it back to me, and we can play together forever.”

Mark looked down at the toy in his hand and then looked up at you. “Forever?”

You nodded aggressively. “Forever. I promise.” You put on your best smile, the spots where you used to be missing teeth finally filled in with your adult ones.

“Y/n?” Your mom calling your name made your head perk up.

“Y/n?” She said before spotting you. Your mom sighed, walking towards you and gently grabbing your arm. “You shouldn’t be bothering them right now. They’re in a rush. Tell him goodbye and go home.”

Your expression turned sad before becoming confident again. “I’ll see you later, Mark.” You were able to say before being dragged away by your mom. “Bye!” You waved your hand to which Mark, less energetically, waved his as well.

That was the last time he saw you.

His thumb rubbed against the arm of the toy, his eyes focused. Mark was going to fulfill his promise to you no matter what.

After quickly dressing in his attire, Mark joined his father’s side, who was looking over space. They only exchanged a quick nod before flying into the vast galaxy.

And before he knew it, Mark had finally made it back to Earth. He had thought about returning one day, visiting you. But under the threat of his father finding out, and even worse, doing something to you for making him weak, kept him away.

Mark looked over the busy highways and tall skyscrapers as far as he could see. He could hear the sound of the trees bristling against each other from the wind. He took a deep breath in, the air also making his hair sway side to side, and exhaled.

“Mark.”

“Yes, Father?”

“I thought I told you to throw that trash away. It’s holding you back.” Nolan didn’t even bother to look at the item in his son’s hand. He already knew damn well what it was.

Mark’s hand defensively held onto it, his grip tightening, and kept it out of his father’s sight best he could. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”

Nolan only clicked his tongue. They had multiple arguments before about it. Why would something as small and as a useless toy mean so much to his son? But after years of fighting, it just wasn’t worth the effort anymore.

What was more important was the mission. That would always come first. To prepare Earth for viltrumite rule, quick and easy. All of those years of constant training wasn’t for nothing after all. And Mark didn’t survive his adulthood ceremony for nothing either.

The first step was dealing with the existing superhero teams. But aftering exterminating everyone in the Guardians of the Globe, everything was easy. Sure some people put up a fight, a few resistances here and there, but kill a few people and they’re quiet. No big deal.

They’ll eventually come around and understand what Mark and his father are doing. They’ll be grateful even. But at the moment, society would have to go through a rough patch.

Mark gazed over the fallen buildings, the fires, listening to sounds of the flames crackling and popping. His fist clenched, crimson blood dripping off of it. Even after being back on Earth, Mark still hadn’t had a single moment to visit his old home as he was still under the intense watch of his father. He had a feeling his father was in fact trying to keep him away from it.

But Mark never spoke up about it. How could he? A good son never questions his father.

“Mark.”

He turned his head around and looked up to see his father slowly descending from the sky.

“I trust you can handle the rest of this?” Nolan gestured his hand at the land beneath them.

His eyes widened but he quickly returned to a neutral expression. “Yes, Father.” Mark straightened his posture and bow his head down. “It would be an honor.”

“I’ll return in a few months then. Make Argall proud, Mark.” Nolan said before shooting into the sky, disappearing beyond the clouds. A gust of wind blew back Mark’s hair.

Mark couldn’t help but feel a little bit surprised. Did his father really just allow him to carry out the mission by himself. He supposed all of that being on his best behavior and obedience really did paid off.

“Just finish the mission.” Mark repeated to himself under his breath as he flew. He looked down and then stopped. When did he start head to his old home?

He looked around once more. There was no mistaking it. This was the old city he used to live in, just extremely destroyed and burning. He guessed his father got to it before he did.

Mark lowered himself back to the ground, gracefully stepping onto the concrete. The memories were starting to fill his head. The time you two would run along the sidewalks as your mother scolded you two to not be so close to the road.

A faint smile creeped onto his face before vanishing at the sound of a terrified man. Probably some high ranking company man based off the suit and tie, and the fact that he was yapping about money for some reason. What use would Mark have for that?

With each step he took forward, the man stepped back until his back was met with a wall.

“You.” Mark paused, asking himself if this was what he should be doing. He wasn’t supposed to feel this way about you, and yet he did. “Do you know someone with the name, Y/n L/n?”

The man, fearing for his life, stuttered. “W-what? Who?” He then realized this might be his only chance at living. “I mean, yeah! I know who you’re talking about my mistake.”

Mark’s brows furrowed as he watched him lie straight through his teeth. Did this man think he was an idiot?

“You’re wasting my time.” Mark’s hand extended in a flash, puncturing into the man’s stomach, and retracted. He flicked the blood off of his hand, an annoyed look on his face.

Not only was he mad at the man for attempting to trick him, but also at himself, for letting himself still be so affected by you. He wasn’t even sure if you were in this area anymore. And even worse, if you were still alive. You were always the weaker one of you two. So who knows if you even made it past day one of his and his father’s arrival.

The thought of you dead extremely upset him. Ruined his whole day. But as long as he never encountered your dead body, Mark would still have a sliver of hope in his heart.

Mark would of course still carry out the mission… but a small side goal wouldn’t change anything right?

Mark pushed off of the ground, rising into the air once more.

But he’s wasn’t sure what to do. What if you moved away while he was gone all of those years? He had no idea where to start looking? Plus, what did you even look like? Obviously, you must’ve grown since he last saw you, but how in the world was he supposed to recognize you?

He shook his head.

He had no right considering himself your best friend if he couldn’t tell you apart from some randoms. So each time he found a large group of people, before killing them, Mark would carefully examine each person’s face.

Mark landed in front of what was left of some college or university building and sat on a surviving bench, burying his head in his hands. His feelings were a mix of frustration, anger, and despair. He had been looking for you for the past three days, and there was still no sign of you anywhere.

He knew what his father would say if he saw him in his current state. Idiotic and pathetic. For both being so attached to you and for being on the verge of giving up.

Maybe if he carried out the mission with all of his effort, he could forget about you and finally let go of his lingering desire for you. Mark leaned back, his face towards the sun and his eyes shut.

Which country should he target first? Maybe he could check out that one country you mentioned you wanted to go to.

Then he heard it. A cough. A shuffle against some rubble. His head snapped towards the source of the noise.

A hand emerged from a pile of wreckage, pushing the ruins to the side. After a few minutes of struggle, the person finally emerged from the debris.

It was you.

Mark rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t just imagining it. He couldn’t believe it, but at the same time he did. Mark felt a sense of relief and a fill in his heart that he couldn’t describe. His body didn’t even move an inch. All he could was watch you from afar like he was afraid of ruining the moment or that you would disappear again.

“Come on, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.” You mumbled quietly, lifting a cat close to your chest. Mark smiled at the fact you still cared so much about animals. Though he didn’t understand it, it was endearing to him for some reason.

You used your body to shove aside the broken pieces, wincing as you did so. Mark then noticed the tattered cuts all over your body, the torn pieces of your jacket and pants, the bruises and dried up blood.

He frowned.

You seemed so fragile, so close to the edge of breaking.

But no matter. He was there. He could fix you.

Finally making it out of the rubble, you started limping in some direction, which was when Mark decided that he had observed you enough.

He might’ve been a little too excited and flown to you too fast though. The momentum literally made you fall again, causing you to let go of the cat. You saw it run away before turning around and finally facing him.

Mark knew you wouldn’t have the same happy expression as you did when you two were kids when you’d see him for the first time in forever. But it still hurt a little, seeing your eyes filled with fear and your chest quickly rising and falling.

Neither of you said anything for a moment.

Mark was the first to break the silence. “Y/n?” His tone too gentle for someone who killed thousands upon thousands.

“How do you know my name?” You spat, your body too tired and sore to stand. All you could do was shove your palms into the ground and move back inch by inch.

It pained him that you didn’t recognize him. Maybe you were just disoriented since Mark could sense your heart beating rapidly. Or maybe you were scared of him?

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You looked up, confused. Was he toying with you? You knew he was some apathetic murderer, based on what you saw on tv and the aftermath you witnessed yourself. But you didn’t think he would be so sadistic to mess with his victims before killing them.

Mark couldn’t take the hateful glare in your eyes a second longer. “I could never hurt my best friend.”

You weren’t given another second to think or process what he just said to you as he suddenly appeared face to face with you, crouching.

Maybe it was the fact that you had a massive headache, hadn’t eaten for a while, or something, but the look on face in front of you almost seemed… desperate. He wanted something from you, but you couldn’t figure out what exactly he wanted.

You then took a closer look into his eyes. Something was just so familiar, but why?

“… Mark?” Your tone shocked, like you were in disbelief while also finding it ridiculous. There was just no way. No way that your childhood best friend who moved away came back as some powerful alien hell bent on conquering Earth.

Maybe you were on something and just didn’t know it.

You felt a hesitant hand upon your cheek.

Mark’s once concerned expression changed into a relaxed one. “I’m glad you didn’t forget me, because I never forgot you. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t.” He carefully moved your hair out of your face. His other hand caressed your arm, which was covered in scrapes but had one noticeable slash running down your arm, improperly bandaged with a spare piece of fabric. “You’re badly injured. You need aid.”

“Oh really?” For the first time ever, you hated your natural sarcasm.

You thought he was going to punch your head off but instead he just looked at you. “Hold onto me.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you to fall.”

“Wh-”

Mark grabbed you and shot up into the sky. So you instantly wrapped your arms around him, closing your eyes. “Mark! What the fuck!”

“What’s wrong?”

You refused to open your eyes, but you could tell you two were probably hundreds of feet in the air. So that was what he meant by ‘didn’t want to drop you.’

Just too much was happening all at once.

While you were experiencing the worst anxiety ever, Mark’s heart beat a little faster at how close you two were. Should he have been feeling that way? No, never. Was he still going to anyways? Yeah…

Mark looks around in all directions. He wanted to bring you to viltrum and get you healed in no time by their superior health technology, but since you were a human, that would be impossible. And he wasn’t experienced in medicine being raised as a warrior. So Mark made the only choice he could.

He flew in the direction of the last resistance he saw. They would have things that you need. And if they didn’t, he’d just get rid of them all.

You felt the wind against your back, every single sound drowned out by it. Luckily, it only took a few seconds for you to feel the ground beneath your feet again. You opened one of your eyes, trying to look around.

It seemed like some sort of hideout. You were happy for the people who were able to form safety groups. However, you hadn’t been so luckily. Alone since day one.

“What are we doing here?” You tried moving but Mark’s arms wouldn’t budge.

“To get you help.” Mark suddenly hooked his arm under your knees and his other arm on your back. Was he seriously caring you bridal style?

Mark casually walked into the base where people wanted him dead. A lot of them were fully ready to shoot him, but stopped at the sight of you in his arms.

If his memory was correct, this was the resistance with the leader who had powers, something to do with atoms? She actually put up a better fight than most others, but still not enough to defeat him.

Mark stood there, right in the middle, completely silent, until Eve came out.

Mark’s head tilted up. “Mend his wounds, and I won’t kill everyone in this building right now.” His head then lowered. “Try anything, and I’ll make yours and everyone else’s death as slow as possible.”

Eve, knowing better than to question him at the moment, called over the most qualified to help you out while keeping a close eye on him. “Fine.”

Mark gradually put you down as if you’d shatter in an instant and let go of you, who looked back and forth between him and the others as you walked forward. You were guided to sit down on one of those plastic chairs you’d usually see at family gatherings.

Eve walked over to you, looking over her shoulder at Mark and then turned back to you. “Sorry, but I have so many questions. Are you alright? How are you still alive?”

You glanced down at some person’s hands untying the fabric wrapped around your arm. “I wondering the same thing.” You let out a small laugh.

You two kept your voices low, which partially upset Mark but he brushed it off. Instead, he spent his time glaring at anyone who dared to look at him.

“But uh, I think maybe he hasn’t killed me yet because we were friends when we were kids? But he moved away. I had no idea he would return like this though.” You scratched your neck with your free hand.

“Yeah, how could you?” Eve replied. “Okay, brace yourself. This part is going to sting a lot.” She placed a firm grip on your shoulder.

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself, but you still flinched at the burning sensation and biting your tongue.

You then felt a strong gust of wind and blinked.

“Mark!” You shouted, making him stop his tracks. You opened your eyes to see him holding onto the person’s head from behind, just about to crush their skull.

You looked at the person’s terrified face, their body frozen in place. You looked up at Mark with disappointment.

“They’re just disinfecting the cut. Let them go.” As scared as you were, you made sure to keep your tone authoritative.

Mark only grunted in response before releasing them.

Everyone let out a sigh of relief in unison.

“We’re almost done.” Eve said, loud enough for both you and Mark to hear. She held out her hand over your scar. A pink light appeared and then materialized into stitches. You couldn’t help but feel amazed, that childhood love of superhero’s never truly went away.

Once her hand moved away, you gave your arm a test, straightening and bending it.

“Thanks.” You gave Eve and the others your best smile. You looked past them at Mark who seemed to be growing more impatient by the moment. You knew staying there for a second longer was too risky.

You stood up, struggling a little. “They did their part, Mark. Let’s leave them all alone now.” You held onto his arm when you reached his side. The sooner you two leave, the safer those people would be.

Mark hugged you tight, just like before, and shot into the sky again.

It felt amazing having you in his arms again. It was like he found the last missing part of him. And now, there was nothing in your guy’s way, nothing separating you two anymore. Overjoyed would be an understatement to describe Mark. But when he looked down at your face, you didn’t seem to feel the same.

“Did I do something to make you sad, Y/n?” Mark stopped, bringing his hand under your chin and forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t lie to me.”

You sighed. “Well, my entire city and home have been destroyed, and the world is in chaos right now. So yeah, I’m a little upset at you.” You said in the politest way possible. “I don’t want to be conquered by aliens. I just wanted to start college and hate my classes. You know, live a normal life.”

“I can give you a better life though. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I’ll stop at nothing for you.” Mark pouted, the same way he did as a kid, realizing that his words didn’t get rid of the dark cloud looming over you.

An idea popped into his mind.

Mark changed his course, flying in some other direction.

“Mark, where are you taking me?” You asked flatly.

“You’ll see when we get there.”

You stood in confusion when Mark placed you down in front of an ice cream shop.

He hovered close to the ground. “Do you remember this place?”

Your eyes squinted as you read what was remaining of the shop name. “Wait… I do. This was the ice cream place we used to go to every summer.”

“Exactly.” Mark stepped onto the ground and took your hand, leading you forward. “Eating it always seemed to make you happy and you’d smile a lot. I want to see you smile again.”

“That’s… very sweet of you?” You walked through the space where a door should’ve been. The shop wasn’t in horrible condition, but it had definitely seen better days. Some of the lights were busted, some chairs knocked over, and the large windows had become just piles of shattered glass on the floor.

“Come on out now.” Mark moved towards the counter. “I can hear your heartbeat.” Each passing second only made Mark more irritated.

A worker stepped out from the back of the shop, his hands up and shaking. You guessed he must’ve been looking for resources or hiding. Poor him.

“What would you like, Y/n?” Mark glanced up at the menu. “We can share. Just like when we were younger.”

Playing along with him seemed to have worked since the moment he found you, and it seemed like that only thing you were able to do.

“I guess, can we get a number seven? With those flavors?” You pointed down at the ice cream tubs. Almost everything was running on backup power, so to everyone’s luck, things would play out normally.

The guy looked at you with a panicked expression, wondering what the hell was going on, to which you just mouthed ‘Just do it.’

The worker cleared his throat. “Yeah, I can for sure do that for you guys. Just give me a minute.” He lowered his hands, getting to work instantly.

“Come on, we can sit and wait. Over…” Your eyes scanned over the room. “There.” You proceeded to shove yourself into a booth. Mark followed and sat beside you, just a little bit closer than he should’ve.

“So…” You propped yourself with your elbows on the table. “Where have you been for these past years? Never thought I’d see you again.” You couldn’t forget that it was still your childhood best friend you were talking to. There were just so many things you wanted to know, beyond why he wanted to dominate the planet.

“In my duration of knowing you, I had lied to you. My father was a viltrumite, and my mother was a human. But due to the genetic dominance of viltrumite genes, I am close to being a pure blooded viltrumite. So when I ‘moved away,’ I was returning to the planet, Viltrum, for training with my just gained powers.” Mark felt a heavy weight being lifted off of his shoulders. He was finally able to tell you the truth, the full truth.

“So let me get this straight. You’re an alien who looks really human, but you can fly, move at high speeds, and have super strength pretty much?” You listed his abilities off of your fingers.

Mark nodded. “Correct.”

“Can you shoot lasers out of your eyes or something?”

“That would be ridiculous.”

“Right.” You sighed. “And I used to think you were just some regular human kid like me. Way to make me feel like a literally powerless loser.” You playfully scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Why does that matter?” Mark raised an eyebrow.

“Well, it doesn’t, but it also doesn’t change the fact that you can fly and stuff, and I can’t.” You observed Mark’s face, sharper and more defined than ever. He had that same pushed back hair style from when he was younger and the same dark brown eyes. So everything from the neck up would be what you’d expect, but everything under… definitely not. His clothes were pure white, but stained with blood. And why was he so toned? Did viltrumite clothing just give off that look? Or did the clothes just extenuate each and every muscle on his body? It felt wrong to admit, but Mark was scarily close to your type…

“Y/n?”

“Huh, what?” Your eyes shot back up.

“There something I need to return to you.” Mark placed something on the table and slid it towards you.

“What are you talking… no way.” You took a hold the old action figure and brought it closer to your face. “You kept it all this time? I thought you would’ve thrown it away.”

“I would never.”

You looked at him, surprised at how serious he seemed about it. You nearly forgot you had given him the figure of your favorite character. As you got older, that superhero obsession slowly died down, and you matured. You were pretty sure those toys you had as a kid were stashed away in a box in some storage unit after you moved for college.

“I don’t understand though.” You bent the toys limbs like you were checking its quality, which you were impressed by. “Why would you keep it?”

“Our promise. I have no interest in still playing with toys, but I still want to spent the rest of my time with you.”

You choked on air. “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to marry me or something.”

“What’s that? I already told you I wasn’t going to kill you.” Mark leaned back into the seat cushion.

You placed the toy back onto the table. “You actually don’t know what marriage is?” If it were any other situation, you would’ve laughed out loud. In this case, you still laughed, but only a little.

Mark’s blank stare was more than enough of an answer for you.

“It’s basically when two people make vows and like promise to love each other until death.”

“Hm. How strange.” Mark brought his had to his chin. “Should we get married then?”

You blinked. “What?”

“Your ice cream is ready.” The worker, to be honest you had forgotten about, presented your order with two spoons.

“Ah thanks.” You noticed the man’s hands shaking, nearly dropping the ice cream. He was clearly fearing for his life, and Mark’s intense scowl didn’t help in the slightest.

Mark looked at you and then back at him. “Now leave. I’ll only spare you this once.” He gave a dismissive hand gesture.

That guy ran right out of there as fast as humanly possible.

You relaxed once the worker was out of sight. You then gazed down at the dessert. You had ordered what you used to always get with Mark, since you never were able to finish it on your own but wanted it badly. You couldn’t even recall the last time you had eaten it. You would have really enjoyed eating your former favorite treat if the circumstances were different.

You tried to use the spoon the scoop some up but then the pressure of moving your arm like that painful, forcing you to drop it.

You cursed under your breath.

Mark watched your struggle, and then picked up the other spoon himself. “I’ll feed you it.” His casual tone was just going to kill you.

“Mark, no. You’re not feeding me ice cream. Mark. I’m not your girlfriend.” You turned your head away from him, avoiding the spoon pointed at your face.

“Of course not, you’re my boyfriend.”

“I don’t think you know what that word means.”

“I know what it means. You’re a boy, and you’re my friend. Now stay still.” Mark inched closer to you.

You pushed your hands against his chest. “I’m not staying still. I-” Mark accidentally got some of the ice cream on your cheek, right next to your mouth.

“Damn it, do you think there’s any napkins here?” You half jokingly asked.

“No need.” You felt Mark’s hand grab your jaw, and his tongue against your skin, dangerously close to your lips. Your cheeks flushed, and a heat ran up your neck.

You were at a loss of words. You immediately backed away, wiping away the spot with the back of your hand. “What the fuck, Mark! Did you just lick me?”

“Yes, but you’re clean now.” Mark took a bite of the ice cream with the same spoon he was just trying to feed you with, then took another scoop and pointed it towards you. “Eat it before it melts.”

There was just no winning with this guy. “… Fine.”

For the next thirty minutes, you sat there, begrudgingly being spoon fed by your childhood best friend. Sure, it tasted amazing but that was besides the point.

As you ate, you started to think a little bit harder on how Mark acted towards you. How touchy he was towards you, how he treated you like you were the only thing that mattered to him, how he licked you like it was nothing. Everything the two of you did was just a little too intimate for being best buddies. It was almost as if he liked you more than a friend…

You quickly switched topics in your mind. Now, you were on your phone while Mark was trying to find somewhere to dispose your guy’s trash, after you had scolded him for saying to leave it there.

You texted your few friends and your family, assuring them you were okay and asking if they were okay. And while you waited for their response, you scrolled through your social medias, finding out new information every second. You saw people posting videos of their experience so far, people theorizing what in the world was going on, and people trying to figure out what to do now that Earth was in shambles.

You weren’t all too sure what to do either. Yes, you did basically have special privileges for some reason, but it was like walking on egg shells around Mark now. What would happened if you pissed him off? Pushed him to the limit without knowing it?

“What are you doing?”

You jumped in your seat at Mark’s sudden appearance. “I’m just scrolling. I’m surprised the service still works actually. Ah fuck.” You stared at the black screen with the symbol of the battery empty.

“And I left my stuff at home…”

“I can take you.”

“Oh yeah.”

You felt exhausted anyways, even after consuming all of that sugar. Your whole body still felt like it was on alert, and all you wanted was to lie in your heavenly bed again.

You had finally gotten used to just holding onto Mark as tight as possible and zone out while he was flying. Luckily, your house was pretty close. And even more surprisingly, still standing. It actually seemed untouched? The only defining thing was the your parent’s car wasn’t parked in the driveway. It gave you a little hope they were alright.

You stopped walking once you reached the front door. “Where’d I put my keys?… Don’t break the door open, Mark.”

Mark lowered his fist. “It would be more efficient if I did though.”

“For a moment. And then next thing you know my house is being broken into by strangers.” You shoved your key into the lock.

“You say that as if I couldn’t defeat them all.”

You pushed the door open. “Even so, I just don’t want that to happen. Come on.” You motioned your hand back and forth, signaling for him to follow you.

He hovered closely behind you.

As you were taking off your shoes and setting them close to the door, Mark examined the house he hadn’t been in for years. Not too much was different, just some new furniture and new photos decorated around the living room.

Mark picked up a random picture frame from the shelf under the tv. It was a photo of you (He partially smiled) and some other guy (He frowned). It seemed like a fairly recent picture. You were wearing a suit and tie, and standing close enough to the other guy to make Mark’s blood boil. Why was that guy’s arm around your shoulder?

“What’s this?” Mark presented the frame to you.

“Ugh, I told them to get rid of it.” You muttered, your brows furrowed. “That’s a picture of me and my ex-boyfriend at our senior prom. We broke up about a year ago. I guess my parents just forgot to throw it away.”

“Ex boyfriend?” He raised a brow.

“Means I used to like him romantically, but not anymore… I don’t wanna talk about it.” You looked down.

Your upset tone and expression was more than enough for Mark to already hate the guy.

“You don’t need to.” Mark squeezed the picture frame until it broke, the wood splitting and the glass shattering. And then tore up the image faster than the eye could see. He did it for you of course, but also maybe a little for himself.

You were already half way up the stairs, mumbling something about being tired. Mark naturally returned to your side, unsettlingly quiet.

You entered your room, still the same as you left it. After looking around for a bit, you found your charger and plugged your phone. You internally celebrated seeing it charging.

You looked down upon your clothes, if you would even consider them that anymore. Maybe you could look for a sewing kit later. And they definitely needed a wash too. From how much Mark was clinging onto you, the blood on him stained your clothes. And not to mention the dirt you had accumulated yourself from your little adventures.

You unzipped your jacket and threw it onto your chair. “I’m going to change.” You dug though your clean clothes, not bothering to look over at Mark.

“Okay.”

…

You turned around. “Are you going to get out?”

“Why would I need to? We have the same anatomy.”

“That’s not the issue.” You grabbed a random pillow and threw it at Mark who caught it with ease. “I just don’t want you looking, okay?”

“You humans are so weird. Feeling embarrassed about body parts.” Mark faced the wall, bringing the pillow to his face.

“I think you’re the weird one for being okay with seeing me near naked.” You said as you changed into clean and comfortable clothes. “Okay I’m done.”

You collapsed onto your bed, letting out a sigh. The coldness of the blanket and sheets were just right. Did your bed always feel this good? You opened one of your eyes and sat up.

“Mark, you are not lying in my bed. Back up, right now.” You held your hand out in front of him. “You have blood all over you. It’s a miracle it hasn’t gotten on the floors.”

Mark took a single step back. “But I want to join you. It’ll be like our sleepovers.”

You sighed dramatically before getting up and walking to your closet. “I’ll look for something for you to borrow.”

“Alright.”

“There’s gotta be something your size.” You pushed hanger after hanger. If Mark were any of your other friends, you’d have no problem finding something of yours for them to wear. But for someone with a body like Mark… it was difficult. You finally managed to find a basic large white shirt and gray sweatpants.

“Here, you can wear-” Your eyes were met with the sight of Mark shirtless and just about to undo his pants. Your head whipped around before you could see anymore. So without looking, you extended your hand holding the clothes towards him.

“Give a guy a warning next time dude!” You covered your face with your hands and faced the wall, not only to look away but to also hide how flustered you were.

“But I don’t mind if you saw me.” Mark bluntly stated. He truly did not understand why you were care so much about seeing each other’s bodies. Feeling embarrassment was a weakness after all.

“Well I mind, so just changed already.”

“I did.”

“So you can change into clothes that fast, but not out of clothes that fast?” You looked over at his nested folded pile of clothes on the floor, and then back at him. He actually looked like a regular guy you’d see in a class or in a hallway. So that’s what would’ve been if he was human.

You fell onto your bed again, shifting around to find the best position. You laid on your side, facing the wall. You heard the sound of shuffling behind you and then felt a warm presence against your back, an arm around your waist, and… was he nuzzling into your neck?

“Mark… what are you doing?” You laid there, frozen in place. You were too tired at that point to push him off.

“I’m not sure. It just felt right.” Mark’s face was against your neck, making you feel each breath as he spoke. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you felt extremely comfortable with Mark hugging onto you like that. And you were already so exhausted. Maybe letting him cuddle you this once wouldn’t hurt?

“No, you’re fine. Just don’t make it weird I guess.” You shut your eyes, moving around again.

“I missed you so much, Y/n.” Mark held onto you tighter.

“… I missed you too, Mark.”

Note: I did it guys. I finally finished this. Idk what the word count as I’m writing this but I know it’s at least 5k words which is crazy. But anyways I just wanted to say I’m so grateful for all of my followers and especially you guys who ask me questions or like request cuz I just love talking to people.

I hope that the anon who requested this prompt liked what I made. I lowkey went a bit crazy. Sorry the ideas just kept on flowing to me. ALSO, I’m always opened to requests for Mark Grayson that fine ass man. OMG I NEED HIM… okay. Calm down.

And if there’s any typos or like weirdly worded sentences… just ignore it… PLEASE

Edit: omg I forgot to do the tags.

[karlamybeloved]

headcanons about the variants’ love languages? <3

every mark enjoys physical contact, it’s written throughout the infinite realities where mark exists. no matter how bratty or snarky a mark variant acts, they’ll always crave your attention.

words of affirmation is another top love language for all marks, for their actions can tend to make them think about who they are. mark can be bloodied up, whether he saved lives or took them, he wants you to comfort him and tell him that he’s a good person.

certain marks enjoy acts of service, they believe that if they were to make your life easier, then you’d stay with them. he does this to make you feel better if you had a rough day, like how the entire house is cleaned up and he’s waiting patiently for you at the dinner table with dinner already prepared. mark likes seeing the smile on your face as you praise him, “good boy.” falling from you lips makes mark flushed—main, omni, viltrum, full mask, maskless, sinister, prisoner.

humongous gift giver, he enjoys finding items that remind him of you while he’s away. being far away in a different planet makes mark dream about being with you, yet he’s able to spot a flower that’s something completely unseen before. he’ll take the flower after inspecting it isn’t poisonous, then wrap the flower with other plants. mark hasn’t just given you flowers, you have many rocks and merch from different solar systems, all because mark can’t keep you out of his mind—main, mohawk, maskless, full mask, target, lensless, shiesty.

[karlamybeloved]

Viltrumite!Mark: See, your entire hometown destroyed!

Viltrumite!Mark, thinking to himself: This will make them see they don't have options but to be with me

Reader, thinking to themselves: Wow I'm gonna have to find a way to kill this guy- MY LAWN STATUES NO! MY 15 YEAR OLD BUNNY STATUE FUCK!!!

that actually an interesting take, reader who doesn’t give in to viltrumite marks manipulation but is more determined to kill him rather then stay with him.

now i don’t think it’s possible for reader to kill mark, but it would be fun trying to see how they would attempt to kill him. maybe mark already knows and feeds into their delusions that their attempts will be successful this time, only to prove why he’s the strongest viltrumite.

anything and everything you held dear in your house is most likely gone, but maybe mark would feel generous enough to save one o two items before sending his viltrumites. may that be a photo album, or your precious treasures, mark wants to make you understand that he can give you happiness, but you have to follow rules.

[sunsburns]

your alien boyfriend is just so alien in the sense that his anatomy is just slightly different and off putting but you kinda love it.

you’ve noticed his heartbeat doesn’t really sound like a heartbeat, and he’s so fascinated by the way yours beats so rhythmically.

or maybe his irises get slightly wider than a normal person’s would when he sees something he likes, making them seem darker than what they usually are.

he doesn’t drink, like at all, which is fine, but he tells you it’s because alcohol doesn’t effect him. you think he’s just realizing he’s a heavy weight but you’ve seen him take ten consecutive shots back to back and not even flinch once. but funnily enough he does act a little tipsy at the smell of your perfume.

he’s also weirdly light on his feet. like, you can barely make out his footsteps half of the time and he tends to scare you sometimes because of it. you can only tell when he’s approaching is if the door creaks, or he knocks something over or he trips on his own feet or something along those lines.

he can also hold his breath for an concerningly long period of time. whenever the two of you are at the beach or the pool and he dives in, he spends an uncomfortable amount of time underwater. and when you start to worry, even the lifeguard (if there is one) starts to blow their whistle, he resurfaces casually, barely breathless.

he also kisses you like he doesn’t really need oxygen to breathe, it’s almost as if he can breathe through you, quite literally taking the breath from your lungs. he’s always looking at you like a kicked puppy whenever you pull away, telling him you need a minute for air. he doesn’t really get that you don’t breathe the same way he does.

[mercurysmicrowave]

Pt2 to this imagine

You've stopped beating against the Other Mark, but only so that you could use your hands to cover your ears. The cries of those in danger below you were so loud that they could not be muffled by your hands. You close your eyes, but the sight of Your Mark's body bleeding out fills your mind. You choke back at sob. The Other Mark wipes your tears away with his thumb.

"Shh, there's no need to cry," He says. "I'm going to take you back to Angstrom, and he'll give us a dimension where we can be together again."

You shake your head. You want to tell him you don't want to leave, but... Your world is on fire, painted in blood, and buildings are reduced to ashes. Your ex-boyfriend is dead and your family? You don't let your mind wander to those dark thoughts.

"(Y/N)," The Other Mark says softly. He's stopped flying and hovers in the air. He pets your hair. "You deserve to be happy. You deserve to live the life you were always meant to have." You hate how he holds the same way as Your Mark. How his touch makes your realx. You hate how his voice is the same as your ex-boyfriend's. How he says your name in that special way that makes your heart flutter. Your mind becomes cloudy. Too many things have happened too quickly for you to rationalize this situation and think clearly.

"Mark," His name leaves a disgusting taste on your tongue. You force yourself to smile. "What's our dimension going to be like?" This makes him happy, you can tell because his goggles rise the same way Your Mark's would when he smiled.

"It'll be perfect," He says. "Only the best for you." He leans down to rest his forehead on yours, the same thing Your Mark did to make you feel safe.

"I love you, (Y/N)" The Other Your Mark says. You look ahead to the circle of variants hovering in the air and your heart sinks.

[divinemimij]

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙈𝙄𝙎𝙀𝙎 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Jason Todd x GN!Reader

Summary: It’s been 4 years since Jason died. {Reader} is a struggling college student. When Jason appears at their workplace, all they can do is deny it’s him.

Warnings: Mentions of death, grief, fainting, hospital setting, lots of angst, fluff <3

“You could never make me hate you, Jay.”

READER POV

It’s been the worst 4 years of my life. 

I’m only in my 2nd year at Gotham State University, but all I can think about is how I wasn’t supposed to be here alone.

He was supposed to come with me.

My best friend.

My Jaybird. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

I send his number voicemails everyday, not caring if it could be a random person with his number now.

Hey, I’m taking that biology class you promised to take with me.

You’re not missing out on anything, Jay, the professor is shit. *laugh*

I guess that’s another promise you broke.

But that’s okay. I’d forgive you for everything if I could see you just one more time. *sigh*

Bye Jaybird.

Click.

I get up from my couch in my dreary studio apartment, heading over to my fridge. I open it.

Two eggs. A slice of bread. Four peaches.

That’ll do, I think to myself as I take out all the contents.

This is one of the things I don’t tell Jason in the voicemails or when I visit his grave.

I haven’t been well since he left me at 15.

My mom kicked me out at 18 so she could galavant with her new young boyfriend.

I barely make enough working at the library in Gotham City. 

I’m swimming in debt and grief yet nothing seems to be pulling me out. 

Most of all, I don’t tell him how angry I am with his family. 

I was never told when his funeral was happening and they never tried to reach out.

All I wanted was to share my grief and have understanding.

Yet…

All I get is deadlines to meet. Shifts to complete. Bills to pay. 

I have no help or support. 

Not even the person I’ve needed most.

And that hurts the worst. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

It’s a solemn Monday morning. Thunderstorms. Horizontal rain.

Yet here I am, organizing the new shipment of books we got this morning. As I pull out a cute board book for kids, I hear my manager, Ethel, say,

“Someone is asking for you up at the directory desk, {Reader}.”

I furrow my brows in confusion as I put the board book away on a shelf and ask,

“Who?”

“Don’t know, don’t care. Hurry up so you can get back to work,” Ethel replies without looking up at me. I roll my eyes and head over to the directory desk. As I walk, I try to think of who could be here. My mom? A mad professor? A friend? I almost laugh at that last one; I have no more friends. 

None of that would have prepared me for who I saw standing at the directory desk. 

Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth.

When I’m finally standing in front of them, I speak up,

“Why are you here? A cruel joke?” I glare at them with my arms crossed. Both of them seem dumbfounded at my brutal tone, almost like they’re processing me as an adult, no longer that naive, wide-eyed teenager. I wait for either of them to speak. When it seems apparent that they’re not going to speak anytime soon, I add,

“I don’t have time for this. Have a nice day Mr. Wayne and Pennyworth,” my tone dripping with bitterness and coldness as I walk away and continue my shift. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

As I near the end of my shift, I’m exhausted and just want to go home.

I’m packing up my bag when I sense someone standing in front of me. I sigh and, without looking up, say,

“Ethel, my shift is over, please just let me-“

“{Reader}.”

That deep, familiar voice. I close my eyes, but bring my head up.

I want it to be him. It has to be him. But he’s dead-

“{Reader}, please open your eyes. Look at me,” he says in that same gentle tone I’ve been wanting to hear for the past 4 years. 

I open my eyes cautiously, and I’m greeted with the face of a ghost. 

Those same blue eyes. That black hair. The supple skin of his face.

But not so the same anymore.

Those blue eyes are muddled. That black hair is streaked with pure white in the front. The skin of his face marred with scars, one in the shape of a ‘J’. 

I don’t realize I’ve began crying or shaking. My state only becomes known to me when I say,

“You’re not real..” I hear the pain, grief, and doubt in my voice as I shake my head. Yet, I cannot look away.

He keeps his eyes on mine, that beautiful mouth tugging down slightly as he takes in my state.

“I am real, baby. I’m alive,” he repeats but I can only keep shaking my head.

This isn’t real. I’ve finally snapped; I’m fucking crazy. Jason Todd died when I was 15. That’s not him—this is some bad joke! I, I-

I’m trying to speak, but my mouth only keeps blubbering open and closed until the world spins into darkness. 

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes flutter open as I take in my surroundings.

The grey walls. The IV in my arm. The pulse oximeter on my pointer finger. 

I’m in the hospital…and someone is holding my hand.

I travel the joined hands up to the other person’s face with my eyes.

Jason.

“Jay?…is that really you or am I crazy? ‘Cause I’m not sure what I can’t stand more,” I say hoarsely due to the lack of water.

He rubs circles on top of my hand with his thumb as he takes a deep breath and replies,

“It’s me, {Reader}. I’m alive, which is a long story, but I’ll save that for when you’re feeling better. And before you begin to interrogate me more for proof, I remember when you put itching powder in your mom’s clothes and her boyfriend broke up with her, thinking she had syphilis.” He laughed a little at the last part and so did I.

“So it really is you,” I said looking at him. I sighed out of relief, “God, I'm so glad it’s you, Jay.” I touched his cheek with my other hand, tracing the ‘J’ scar.

“I’m glad it’s me too, baby,” he replied, still rubbing circles on the back of my other hand.

“Is that why Alfred and Bruce came to the library this morning?” I asked as the gears turned in my head. Jason nodded in response but didn’t elaborate.

“Once they told me you wouldn’t talk to them, I knew I’d have to be the one to tell the good news. But I didn’t expect you to pass out, truthfully,” he stated and I huffed out an amused breath at his last comment.

As I keep stroking his face, taking in all the aged features, I speak up again,

“I’m glad you’re alive, Jay, but taking me to the hospital? I might begin to hate you for the hospital bills,” I jab at him playfully with a tired smile forming on my face. He smiles wearily back down at me.

“I’ve only just got back to you, don’t hate me yet,” he replies with an amused tone, but I could sense some insecurity beneath it.

“You could never make me hate you, Jay,” I say in a genuine way, rubbing my thumb across his jaw lightly.

We stayed right there for a while. Not speaking. Not moving. Just there. Together.

⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆⋆⭒˚.⋆

A couple minutes pass before the silence is broken.

“Oh, and I listened to those voicemails you left.”

A heartbeat passes before I immediately scramble to defend myself,

“Jason fucking Todd, I swear-“

“I won’t break anymore promises. That’s my true promise.”

I’m dumbfounded.

———————————————————————

let me know your thoughts on this <3

@flwrluhvr @inesvisible @anerved @h7venandback

[venomandvigor]

You turned your fire escape into a little Gotham patio. It was honestly unsafe, and would probably cost you your deposit, but your plants needed more sun, and you needed a cozy place to smoke. It was while taking care of the former that you slipped up. You swore your aloe pot had a crack in the bottom. The soil always drained too quickly, and the rust under it seemed to be progressing faster. You had been trying to look for said crack, when your grip failed. Your beloved aloe escaped your grasp, and plummeted into the alley below.

The prospect of losing your smoking buddy and primary source of skincare was bad enough. Worse, was that it hit someone on its way out. A man by the look of it, in a familiar purple suit, dress shoes and opera gloves. His head was completely engulfed in soil, terra cotta, and a growing pool of blood. Your aloe topped it off, a proud imitation of the presumably green hair underneath.

Goodbye, aloe. And patio. And Gotham! The moment you recognized the man, you were back in your apartment, pulling out your disaster bag. In spite of how despicable and obnoxious he was, that man had a small army of devoted followers, including a girlfriend with a rap sheet longer than a CVS receipt. You could make Metropolis work. The broken lease was nothing! A cardboard box would be enough, as long as it took you out of Harley Quinn's zip code. You just needed to get to the train station before anyone saw you.

But you had already been seen. Bruce watched you rush to close your blinds from the adjacent rooftop. He'd slipped through his fingers again, and again, he was too late to prevent a tragedy. The Joker was dead, and you were now in terrible danger. You were moving quickly, but you wouldn't make it to the station. A van of grease-painted murderers would pull up in any second to pick up their boss. And when Harley hears what you've done, your entire block would need to be evacuated. You were the sole resident keeping houseplants on your fire escape. There was nowhere you could run she wouldn't reach you. But there were places he could take you.

He let you finish packing. It wouldn't be fair to deny you the few home comforts you deemed necessary. He readied a tranquilizer from his belt. With the van just around the corner, there wasn't time to explain. He hoped you'd let him, once you woke up in the safe house.

[venomandvigor]

What about taking seasoned journalist Clark Kent as your sugar daddy? He's not the obvious choice, given his simple tastes and limited salary, but he's got enough to keep you satisfied, and you don't exactly mind putting out for him. Plus, there's all sorts of fun perks. He gets invited to all these big, glitzy events, and you love being his plus one. You do sometimes wish he wrote for the travel column. You've been wanting a vacation. You don't want to push your luck and ask him. He's not exactly making "all expenses paid in the Bahamas" money, and he's been trying to rope you into a trip to his Kansas hometown for a while now.

You felt kinda bad playing him like this. Not too bad; you'd always made it clear that this was a transactional relationship. He may like to play the doting boyfriend, but that was simply part of the service he was paying for. So you weren't too out of line when you went searching for a side gig. You had put out a post on one of your old sites, looking for a short-term arrangement to get you your tropical paradise fix. Within a day, you had a man offering to fly you out to meet him on the Caribbean. You'd been skeptical about the offer, but you figured it was worth a shot. Clark had been on his own trip, so you simply told him you were taking a short vacation. It didn't feel real until you were taking off in a private jet.

Bruce was a complete gentlemen. He met you on the tarmac, and lucky you, another handsome one. Your luggage was whisked away, and you were grateful you had the foresight to freshen up before landing, as you were pulled into an immediate tour of the resort you'd be enjoying.

"The staff knows who you are, so if you need something and I'm away, just ask." You were a little star-struck by it all.

"You must be starving. Come on, we're meeting a friend for lunch."

You were led not to a restaurant, but a beachside cabana. Inside waiting for you was a beautiful grazing table, a well-stocked bar cart, and Bruce's friend, and your paramour, Clark Kent. You didn't try to explain yourself. You could almost applaud Clark for playing it this cool, but you were too distracted by how... unsurprised he seemed. And the fact Bruce didn't bat an eye when Clark greeted you with a kiss.

[batslvrr]

Fated Blood - au mlist⭑.ᐟ

─ ⊹ ‧₊˚ Vamp!Bruce Wayne x Soulmate!Reader

ও˖ ࣪⊹ You always thought your life was pretty ordinary, but everything changed once you noticed the antique shop on your street. The owner of the shop always seemed strange in his own way, but as you two spend more time together you find yourself tangled in a story you had no idea you took part in.

Is this all madness, or the desperation of an immortal to keep his mortal soulmate alive?

𝜗ৎ a/n: guysss im so excited about this one!! the idea literally came to me in a dream, it was just a hot vampire in my dream, but i woke up and went 'this was so bruce wayne coded' and then i backpedaled to get the beginning of this story and ughhhghh i have it all planned out!!

𝐀𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐬

⤿ You meet the owner of the antique store on your street that you'd never noticed before, but soon after that, strange things start happening to you.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐬..

⤿ After feeling haunted by the mysterious occurences that keep happening around you, you decide to investigate the man that can't seem to leave your mind.

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

⤿ After inviting Bruce to lunch with you, you see yourself forced to confront him about your previous findings. More confused than ever, you attend his shop's event and end up in even more trouble than before.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬

⤿ Coming soon!

𝐔𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭

⤿ Coming soon!

𝐈𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮

⤿ Coming soon!

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐬

⤿ Coming soon!

𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

⤿ Coming soon!

𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐞'𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐞?

⤿ Coming soon!

dividers by @saradika & me

[batslvrr]

Sweet Dreams

𝜗ৎ tags/tw: mentions of blood/death, nightmares, subtle flirting, enchantments (idrk how to include this but at the end reader gets essentialy hit with a sleep spell), kidnapping, cliff hanger, not proofread

ও˖ ࣪⊹ pairing: vamp!bruce wayne x f!reader

𝜗ৎ a/n: hey everyone, i wanted to post this earlier put i've been completely wrapped up in The Cruel Prince trilogy, and i am now completely obsessed. i couldn't put those books down for the lifeee of me</3 but yeah, i hope you enjoy this part, i think this is going to be one of the darker chapters because im kind of afraid of making this too creepy lol, feedback is appreciated!!<3

─ ⊹ ‧₊˚ Au mlist

Vegetables boiled slowly on your kitchen’s stove. You hoped Bruce wouldn't feel like you were going overboard with lunch, but something about showing someone how important they were through good food always warmed your heart. It was still early so you still had time to prepare a small desert too, but you hadn't yet chosen what you'd bake. 

Although everything seemed perfect, something felt wrong. You had woken up with this weird… feeling on your stomach that made you anxious, but you didn't know why that was happening. Looking around, you realised everything was quite dark. It was almost as if you'd been cooking in complete darkness! Quickly, you opened up the curtains in your kitchen and in the living room. 

Much better, sometimes you felt like a real vampire with the way you forgot to open up your blinds.

Now, with all the natural light, you decided to flip through your recipe book to choose a desert. But as you were sitting there, looking at your favourite recipes, you remembered something. The flowers. You forgot to water your flowers. Bruce didn't like you going out there alone, it was dangerous, but your flowers would wither and he was just being dramatic. Dropping the recipe book on the kitchen counter top, you grabbed the watering can from under the sink and filled it up. It was old and intricate, painted with a dark green just how you liked things.

Leaving everything on the stove, you promised yourself it wouldn't take enough time for the food to burn or stick to the pots. The weather outside was peculiar, there was no breeze but the sky was dark grey, as if it were about to rain, however, you couldn't smell any signs of humidity or incoming rain. Going straight, to your favourite bed of flowers, you ignored the feeling in your gut telling you danger was lurking. Your brain tends to overthink and make you nervous for no reason. 

Suddenly the sky got even darker turning into a greyish purple. A shiver ran down your spine as you watched the clouds suddenly disappear, and when you looked back to your flowers, they were dead.

“No, no, no, no, what happened?” The flowers had been fine when you arrived. You watered them everyday, this could not be happening. Was your mind playing tricks on you?

“This was your own doing.” Startled, you turned to see an unknown man behind you.

“Who are you?”

“That does not matter, what matters, is that you have broken the rules, dear.”

“What? How did you get inside my property?” The man smiled and it looked terrifying, you understood at that moment, that he was not a human. Bruce had warned you, if only you had listened–

“So curious. Did he not warn you to stay inside?” He tutted. “You never do listen, and that’s why the curse will never end.” A sinister laugh that echoed in your mind left him. “This is always so fun. I wonder how many years it will take him to find you again.”

You took a step back, looking everywhere for something you could protect yourself with.

“Now, now, you know that is quite useless, dear.” He took a step closer to you. “Let us just end this for now, shall we?”

His words made you snap to the realization that you wouldn’t escape this alive. Tears welled up in your eyes and you shook your head. “Please. I do not want to die, just tell me what you want! Bruce and I–”

“Stop making stupid bargains, my purpose is to hunt you for as long as Bruce does not keep his end of the promise. I will never understand why that man keeps believing he will break the curse. He will not, and for that you will die.” His face contorted into an otherworldly frown, and then you watched in horror as a blade extended from his arm, as if it was part of his body. 

You were suddenly frozen in place, and you watched as he raised the blade before smiling wickedly. There was nothing more you could do other than close your eyes, pray it was painless, and hope Bruce would not give up on you.

“Sweet dreams.”

“No!” You sat up in your bed, drenched in sweat and tears. Was it all just a nightmare? Your phone was on your bedside table, the hour and day seemed to be correct. You took in your surroundings, your bedroom was the same as it always was, some light escaped through the curtains, and you still had the whole day ahead of you.

If you had a list of strange occurrences in your life, you could add this one to the list. It could just be a nightmare driven by the things you read the day before, and because of everything that’s been happening, but it felt too real. The smells, the colours, the pain. You felt a strange pain in your chest that couldn’t be related to a panic attack. And even if it was just a nightmare, the house you were in felt familiar, but you had never seen it before.

Also why was Bruce mentioned, right? This motivated you to ask him about the curse, because the thing you couldn’t deny was that all of this just started happening after you met him. 

You got up and prepared yourself for the day. It was already close to lunch time, so you cooked a fairly simple but delicious dish, nothing like the pot roast nightmare you was cooking. 

It didn’t take long for Bruce to arrive after you had finished preparing everything. He texted you to let you know he had arrived at your building, and you went to open the door right away.

The minutes you spent waiting for him to climb the stairs up to your apartment were quite unnerving, because for one, this felt a bit intimate in a way, and you had to address the fact that you had been searching his background for your own peace of mind. Finally, you heard a gentle knock that snapped you away from your thoughts.

On the other side of your door stood Bruce, looking unfairly handsome, with a beautiful bouquet of variations of your favourite coloured tulips. It was an undeniably nice gesture, but your heart flipped because you dreamt about watering flowers just like those.

Bruce slowly looked you up and down with an intense gaze and you felt like you were being ravaged, if he looked at you like that when you were in normal clothing, imagine how he’d act when he saw you dressed up. You wouldn’t go there.

He greeted you and peeped inside. “Oh, whatever it is that you’re cooking, it smells divine.”

“Thanks! Come in,” You made space for him to enter. “Make yourself at home! I didn’t cook anything fancy, just an old recipe I always make when I have guests.”

“It sure smells fancy,” Bruce stopped to look around your apartment. “You have a really nice place here. I see the lamp you bought from me fit in perfectly.” He was right, you had a cozy and nicely furnished apartment that looked straight out of Pinterest. 

"Aw that’s really sweet. I love decorating.” He nodded and got a few steps closer.

“I see. You know, there’s just one thing missing.” You gave him a slightly confused look to which he smiled charmingly before offering you the flowers he had in hand. “Here, these are for you. They honestly do fit your apartment perfectly.”

You accepted the flowers with a big smile and took them to the kitchen to place them in a jar. “I agree. Thank you, these are my favourites,” A soft laugh escaped your lips to hide your attempt at looking anywhere but him. “I don’t know how you keep remembering small stuff like this about me.”

Bruce frowned slightly. “No detail about you is small. To me, it’s a privilege to remember everything about you.”

That stole the breath from your lungs. You both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, how did he say things like that, in such an unfazed way, he wasn’t nonchalant about what he said, he just spoke as if caring about you was his second nature.

You cleared your throat and averted your gaze. “We should eat, I don’t want the food to get cold.”

The conversation about the curse didn’t come right away, you both shared stories about your life, he complimented your food, and overall you had a lovely time. It was at the end when you were both eating dessert that you gathered the courage to address it.

“Bruce, please don’t take this the wrong way, but can I ask you a question?”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Of course, questions are meant to be asked.”

You nodded and took a deep breath. “Do you know anything about the Curse of the Wayne’s?”

His jaw visibly flexed and for a few seconds you couldn’t read him, but then he put on a relaxed look. “It’s the reason my family business almost shut down. I take it that is what you were researching yesterday?”

“It was,” You averted your gaze. “I didn't want to pry, I just visited your shop's website and the next moment I’m going down a rabbithole.”

“It’s okay, I understand. What do you want to know?”

“Well… Is your family related to the Wayne’s from that town that doesn’t exist anymore? Where the wife appeared dead out of nowhere?”

Now he couldn’t contain his emotions, it was clear this conversation was making him uncomfortable. “No. We share a last name but we are not related. You know, what that article that you were reading doesn’t say is that the villagers ended up setting fire to the family mansion after the son appeared. They believed the husband had been possessed by the devil and that he was pretending to be a new man to escape execution. That led the town to its ruin, and that’s how our town was formed.” He sounded weirdly mournful.

“How… How do you know all of that?”

“When you get a crazy reporter accusing your dad of being a vampire, you go out of your way to know every fact.” 

“Yes, I guess you’re right. Sorry if this was weird, I was just curious.”

Bruce shook his head. “Again, I get it. Sorry if I sounded mad, I just foolishly believed those articles were gone.” You guys were silent for a few seconds. Why did he want the articles to be gone? If no one believed the investigation back then, no one would know. As if sensing you were suspicious, he looked at his watch. “We have to go in a few. I’ll help you clean up.”

Arriving with Bruce at Wayne’s Antiques, you had never seen it so full. Your neighbours that claimed not to know Bruce were right there, seeing you with him. You tried to go talk to them, but before you could, Jason called you over to the register.

He exclaimed your name enthusiastically. “So, how have you been? I hope you were able to get some rest after that whole ordeal.”

“Yeah, I’m much better now.” The lie felt natural on your lips, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Lately you had been lying a lot, to yourself and the people around you. “There’s not much we can do now.” You looked to your side where Bruce should be, but he was gone now. Jason could probably tell you were confused, because before you could say anything he laughed.

“Bruce does that sometimes, don’t mind him. Did he tell you what event we’re hosting?”

“Something about lucky charms?”

He nodded. “Yes. Every year we host this event, basically everyone that visits the shop gets a vintage item that has a different purpose. Some are meant to attract love, others protection, others prosperity,” He signalled you closer and lowered his tone with a playful smile. “Honestly, these are mostly just trinkets Bruce acquires because they have this story about how the owner had a crazy amount of lovers and associated that with the object, but whether or not it’s real, no one needs to know.”

“They are free, after all.”

“You get it. And they are pretty.”

You were going to choose a pretty locket on the protection bowl, but Jason held up his hand.

“Wait! Since you’re a special customer…” He reached under the table and pulled out this beautiful silver engraved key, with a dark red ruby in the middle. “Bruce told me to make sure you got this one in specific, and let me tell you this, the other items might be bullshit, but this one isn't."

“What is it supposed to do?” You asked while analyzing every beautiful detail on the key, you were mesmerized. It felt as if there was an enchantment on the beautiful piece.

“It grants protection. You can be sure that this key will always lead you to safety.”

“How does he know this one actually does that?”

Jason gave you a contemplative look. “He told me an ancestor of ours made it.”

“Wait. This is a family heirloom? Jason, I can’t possibly–”

“No. It’s yours now, no returns. Don’t think about it being an heirloom, I didn’t even know it existed, plus you need all the protection you can get.”

You sighed. “I suppose so. Thank you, I’ll see if I can find Bruce to thank this once again.”

He nodded triumphantly. “See you around.”

For some reason, you couldn’t find Bruce anywhere, it also felt like there were less and less people in the store. They didn’t talk to you either, everyone seemed busy admiring the shop, which was definitely understandable. However, you didn’t care much about that, there was something calling you to the insides of the shop. You had been here so many times already, but you never explored past the entrance and the room full of lamps. The shop was way bigger than it looked from the outside, and from what you had judged before. There were multiple rooms you figured were just like the lamp one, you peeped inside one of them and saw a beautifully old full length piano. You’d explore that other day, now you needed to go to the end of the corridor. There, you found a staircase going down into what you presumed to be the basement, for someone that found basements to be creepy, you felt weirdly comforted by this one. It looked just like the rest of the shop and there was yet another door, the only difference with this one was that it was locked. 

Maybe this was a dumb idea, but you took out the key you had just received and tried to put it into the lock. But surprisingly… It worked perfectly. Slowly, you entered the mysterious room and it was as if you had entered a different dimension. The room was tiny, but it had a few archways with overgrown ivy and moss, it looked straight out of a fairytale. As you took in your surroundings, a light sleepiness took over you. It was just so beautiful, and you felt so safe… Your drowsiness started to feel heavier and heavier, but before you could fall to the floor asleep, strong arms enveloped you. 

“There you go, my love…” He lifted you up into a bridal style. “I will not allow them to take you away from me this time. I promise.” His voice sounded pained.

“Bruce…?” Words seemed to escape you as if you were already sleeping.

“You will be safe, and we will have our life back. I am sorry for doing this, but I don’t know what to do anymore, sweetheart…”

His words slowly faded into nothing, and the last thing you saw before succumbing into sleep was a bright portal opening up.

dividers by: @saradika

taglist: @delulupunk @i-am-minding-my-own @beans4days @planetevermore @teenagellamaangel @iluvpinkglitter @busyinthebatmobile @akanecoffee @popotheyoyo @twentytomidnight @kkbooks0813 @tifaaaaaaa @saturnamonsterra tysm for the support♡

[one-green-frog]

Hello!! Hope you’re having a good day

Do you think you could write a platonic yan!batfam with a male reader that will collect random objects they find? Like they’ll walk around the manor and will take stuff from utensils to batteries and will just keep them in a pile in their room

platonic yan!batfam x male reader

Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took so long to answer but i hope you'll like it anyways!

Keepsakes

The first time they noticed, it was because you had taken a small vase. Alfred noticed it immediately, but he couldn’t explain why it had disappeared. As far as he was concerned, no one had broken anything.

It was strange, sure, but it wasn’t that unusual, especially if one of the kids wanted to hide an accident.

Then something else disappeared.

A silver spoon

the flashlight he kept in the garden shed

The more he looked into it, the more things kept disappearing.

TV remotes, books, utensils. It was as if someone took it on purpose, and Alfred couldn’t explain why.

The others noticed too, of course, but none of them thought it was anything serious. Since nothing truly valuable had ever been stolen, it was quite obvious no one had broken in, not that anyone really could.  They brushed it off as misplacing things. Jason joked that the house has developed an appetite. No one suspected you, not at first.

Your room wasn’t messy. It was like a  picture in those furniture catalogues, everything neat, bed made, just clean. Everything except one particular corner. It started small with just an old shoe box. There, you kept all the things you stole and collected. Batteries, spoons, everything small enough to fit. Over time, though, it got worse.

The hsoebox wasn’t enough to carry all of your stolen items, so you just dedicated the entire corner to your spoils. Chess pawns, a card deck, the lighter from Jason, and somehow, everything found its place in your corner.

Still, it wasn’t messy. You had everything organised, not by color, not by height, just by feeling.

If someone asked you if you had seen some of their stuff, you’d say no, it wasn’t a lie, no, really. You honestly didn’t know, not until hours later, when your eyes spotted the item among your pile. Sometimes, whenever you remembered, you felt bad, you knew it was annoying the others. Whenever you stepped out of the room though, it was like you left all of you worries behind, mind wiped and ready to start a new day.

You’d never lie, it just wasn't on your mind all day.

Bruce discovered it by accident.

He had knocked on your door before entering. You weren’t inside, and usually he would just leave to look for you elsewhere, but then his eyes spotted a shimmering thing in your corner. As he got closer, he saw the pile. He saw things the others had been looking for, and all this time they had apparently been sitting in your room.

He crouched beside it. His first instinct was to analyse it. Compulsive behavior? Anxiety? Sentimental attachment? He wasn’t sure, there wasn’t really any order, at least he didn’t see any.

This collection was random, he saw anything and everything in that pile. It looked like you just took whatever was within reach, mind not focused on whether it mattered or not. Your father didn’t touch anything. He was intrigued to say the least. While he couldn’t come up with a reason why, he explained it as wanting to keep a little piece of your family with them at all times. To him, it was because every little thing reminded you of home, which made you feel safe. It was your little secret, but it showed just how much you loved them, too.

He quietly left you room, a bright smile on his face.

The others started to notice, too. Not because you had made it more obiouse, but because their habits had changed.

Dick got home late one night, and usually he’d just go straight ot bed after a long, hot shower, but something within him compelled him to go around the manor. He wasn’t sure why; it just felt right. Dick caught you wandering around the manor that night. Barefoot and still half asleep, he saw you pause beside a table in the hallway. It was a keychain Damian had bought during a school trip to the zoo. You picked it up and continued walking without hesitation.

Dick watched as you disappeared around the corner. The next morning, when he asked if you had seen it, you shook your head, you hadn’t even remembered taking it. Your brother wasn’t accusing you, no, it was obvious you didn’t do it with any malicious intent. It was quite cute, honestly, you taking the stuff and keeping it safe. He likes to compare it to a little hamster, bringing the stuff back to its little home.

Jason wanted to experiment. He left random objects around the house to see if you’d pick them up. A wrench, a stuffed teddy, poker chips, anything he could get his hands on. Then he watched. Within days, all of those items ended up in your room. You didn’t look guilty, it wasn’t a conscious effort to bring them into your room. When you notice the things your brain just decided “mine”. You pick it up and just keep walking.

Jason was fascinated. Sure, he found it strange too, but mostly it was endearing. Whenever he had a bad day, he’d leave stuff out for you and wait for you to pick it up. No matter what, it would always put a smile on his face.

Tim took it a step further. At first, he built a spreadsheet of all the missing items. Of course, he did. It was something easy to get his mind off patrol. Dates, missing items, location, object type, je tried ot figure out a pattern. There wasn’t. From batteries to personal items, all different materials and usefulness, some even broken. He couldn’t figure it out. Not until he caught you in the act.

It was late at night, and he stumbled upon you in the kitchen. He just wanted to grab a small snack when he saw you grab the candle from the dinner table. He was stunned. After all this time, he finally figured it out by accident.

But Tim didn’t stop, he continued working on the spreadsheet, continued logging in every missing item as if it were important. It calmed him, it was almost relaxing. It was a way of keeping your movement documented, to show you were still part of their lives. Every night, he’d open his computer to check for any events that had happened. It was routine by now, and it helped him sleep.

Damian was very irritated at first. It was annoying having to look for things that seemingly disappeared. He had suspected his pets, but quickly realised that dogs wouldn’t go after silver spoons.

He had asked his brothers, maybe they wanted to annoy him on purpose, but they all denied it. It didn’t cross his mind that you might have anything to do with it, you were his favorite, always nice and helpful, and he called you his big brother with pride.

Still, he investigated, stayed up late to see if anyone was behaving suspiciously. He waited for hours before he finally saw you. You wandered into the library, browsing the shelves without a real purpose. Then you stopped, you didn’t pick a book, instead you picked up an old bookmark someone left there by accident, and just put it in your pocket.

He followed you as you went back to your room and watched as you carefully placed the bookmark among the other things in your collection.

It was odd to say the least, but he didn’t mind. Many people had weird habits, and he wasn’t going to be mad at you because it was obvious you had no ill intent. Damian simply accepted the fact and moved on. You were his big brother; in his eyes, you could do no wrong. It wasn’t a flaw, just a unique quirk of yours.

No one confronted you immediately, mostly because they didn’t know what to say. Stop collecting rubber bands? Return the batteries? Mostly, it was random stuff no one really cared for; it would only lead to unwanted confrontation. Not to mention, even if you were hoarding things, your room was still neat, still clean, even with the extra stuff.

It wasn’t hurting anyone.

Not until Alfred needed his wisk.

By now, though, he had bought a double of almost every item.

[rainydaygotham]

I MARRIED MY STALKER —more on page 4 (#3)

Tim Drake x GN reader || Lovesick Tim series part 3 || wc: 3311

[part 1]

Tags: manipulation and controlling behavior, it may even count as gaslighting at this point tbh, allusions to sex acts and sex work, allusion to a/b/o

Summary: Tim moves you into his your new penthouse, filled with all the things you like, without you even having to ask, isn't that exciting? And you have a nice conversation about just what he expects from you

a/n: HAHA you're in danger :3 (it is unclear as to by whom, however. hmm...)

Taglist: @hearts4mica @nightpumpkie @adri-atics @a-taken-url @princesstrunkz @virtaideen

The tailor made another “Heh-hmm” noise at you. You held out the arm she had indicated she wanted to work on, as stiffly as you could. Your whole body felt like it was wound tightly, as you had been instructed to not move for the last half hour.

The tailor was a very, uh, refined older woman, who reminded you of a grandmother, in that she’d probably beat your ass if you partook in any uh, uncouth behaviors in front of her. Maybe stab you with one of the pins and pretend it was an accident.  You instinctually know you can’t have an improper demeanor right now, but you don’t really remember what’s supposed to be proper either, so you’re just fawning your best out here. Hopefully that’s enough.

Tim looks pleased, if anything.

You’re not entirely sure what you’re even doing right now, as there’s no way that this woman could do anything with the measurements she’s taking and the adjustments she’s marking on sample pieces in the short amount of time that you had. It was kind of like being a paper doll, as various articles of clothing were being shoved onto you, pinned to fit right, and then taken right back off again. Apparently, there was a whole pile of mockup garments to get through in this session, that Tim had selected beforehand. For this appointment that he made last week, before you had even met him.  Cause apparently that idiot had a full life planned out for you before he even said hello for the first time. And decided on an entire wardrobe and somehow knew all your approximate measurements to give to the tailor in order for those mockup garments to be made in the first place. Kind of creepy if you think about it for more than a second, but you don’t really find it that big of a problem right now. It’s just Tim being Tim, after all.

The devil himself was lounging in a leather chair, watching and approving all the fits. You tried to share a look with him but, of course, he was too busy eying the clothes on your body to notice. You narrowed your eyes as his didn’t move from your thighs for a solid minute. Yeah. Definitely looking at the clothes. When Tim finally looked up and saw you staring at him, he smiled and waved, shameless.

Some part of you hates that the rest of you isn’t even bothered by this. The logical, ‘I’m a real person” part of you. But were you anymore? Tim wasn’t a real person until a couple months ago. You weren’t sure that you believed in the multiverse before this, and to be honest you still kinda didn’t. You entertained the thought that you were in heaven… And then you went outside on the streets of Gotham and entertained the thought that you were in hell. Either way, you weren’t supposed to be here. And it’s obvious that Tim knows.

Soon you found yourself in something new and definitely more expensive than the ‘food service’ outfit you were in before. By a lot. But thankfully wasn’t flashy. Some of that ‘quiet luxury’ shit you guess. Which is a good reminder that this gift is as much about you not embarrassing Tim as it is about getting you something nice. Douchebag.

So here you were, anxiously holding a WayneTech Tablet, a wallflower behind Tim as he explained some shit to a shareholder. You don’t know, you stopped listening a while ago. The loafers he got you were kinda pinchy on your feet as you stood there, scrutinizing the older men at the table who were, as far you could tell, being kinda patronizing to Tim despite him literally outranking them. Kinda annoyed you, but you’re sure it annoyed him more.

Seriously though, sometimes these rich old men straight up talked to him like he was a child. All they needed to do was add a baby-voice, and it would be very clear that they’re mocking Tim. You don’t know why he tolerates this. Other than the whole m0ney thing.

At one point, one of them was prattling on. A very long-winded proposition that the others were just eating up. And it was very clearly a strategy that Tim had posited earlier, just reworded. Tim subtly glanced over at you and gave you a look of “can you believe this guy?” You stifled the laugh, but one of them still diverted his attention to you, scrutinizing. His gaze shifted from you to Tim and back, eyebrows raised patronizingly. And suggestively. God…

Thankfully, you personally didn’t have to talk to any of them. Sometimes, being expected to only be seen and not heard was a good thing, like when it got you out of interacting with slimeballs. Slimeballs that looked at you like you were a brainless drone or perhaps Tim’s new pet on a leash.

Outside of that boardroom, however, people did seem to respect Tim. Makes sense, he has been a figurehead here for quite a while. That smoothed your ruffled feathers back down, but just a smidge, as new concerns soon grasped you.

You trailing behind him gathered attention. Despite how the employees pretended like they weren’t interested, they weren’t really subtle about looking you up and down, judging. Especially when Tim stopped by a cubicle to, as the corps call it, ‘touch base’. It was hard to hide how their eyes slipped to you, someone they’d never seen before, yet their boss had no qualms about talking about sensitive matter in front of. You, dressed in designer but standing so stiffly like you expected someone to call security on you any moment now. No one said anything, but you could tell they weren’t too keen on your mere presence.

Tim had two other meetings through the day. You weren’t sure if you wanted them to hurry up and get on with it, or for them to last longer, delaying the events that would happen tonight. Stuck between fear of the unknown and excitement for whatever story’s about to unfold with you in a starring role. Either way, you were shepherded towards your future with no choice.

You soon found yourself being led to a shiny building with a doorman and pushed into a gilded elevator that had to be operated with a key. The doorman was nice. Unremarkable. He barely glanced at you and Tim, more interested in his reading.

Guess you don’t look too much like riffraff, with the designer clothes perfectly tailored to your bodies. Even if Tim didn’t use this apartment often, he was still a public figure who no one would question his place in an upscale building like this. That doesn’t go for you, though. You thought maybe Tim would introduce you to the doorman, maybe get your name and face on a list, but no, it must’ve slipped his mind. Hopefully, this doorman seeing you with Tim, and you possessing a key to the elevator, will be enough to keep you from being stopped in the future.

Once giving you the key and instructions on how to operate the lift, Tim went back to go get the rest of your boxes. You didn’t have many, of course, so it wasn’t going to take but the two trips.

You were kind of glad you were going to get to go up alone first. You weren’t completely sure what was waiting for you up there, and this gave you time to control and/or fake your reaction, if need be.

The very first thing you noticed about the penthouse is that it was deathly cold as you walked through the threshold. And a bit dark and mysterious too. Because apparently this place ran on some kind of computer instead of regular light switches, and Tim neglected to tell you how to work the controls. But it was fine, you could see well enough with the city lights coming in from the big floor-to-ceiling windows that made up the wall that faced the outside.

 The furniture was all covered in sheets, giving the illusion that the house was haunted by, well, the ghost of a lamp, and other such dead upholstery. You were kind of curious to see what was underneath it, yet having the thought in the back of your mind that maybe you should just keep it like that so you can’t get anything too messy.

Nevertheless, you began pulling the sheets down, revealing incredibly chintzy interior design. Interesting, there was no way this was his style. Moving the sheets clouded the air with dust, however, so you opened the door to the balcony, letting the wind blow through.

Now curious, you walked out, taking in your surroundings. The sound of all the people shuffling about down below you was kind of soothing in a way. And a little unnerving as luxury cars passed by and electric billboards gleamed.

You placed your hands on the cool, and slightly damp, cement of the balcony fence. Leaning forward, you looked down at everything directly below you, marveling at just how high up you were.

A sudden pair of hands on your hips almost startled you into yeeting yourself off that balcony ledge.

“WOAH okay, sorry,” Tim laughed as he grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Didn’t mean to scare you,”

With him beaming that smile at you, you got the feeling he was very much lying.

“Well you did,” was all you could get out as you came down from your heart attack.

“I got all the boxes up, come show me where you want to put all your stuff,” he said as he went back into the house.

You took one last look at the cityscape before following.

Your kitchenware was pretty easy to put away. One pan, one pot, a few plain-looking cups and plates and bowls. Kind of sad, but it’s not like you ever had anyone but yourself to cook for, and it’s not like you’re going to start anytime soon.

You had a meek little coffeemaker that only made a couple of mug’s worth, but Tim said you should toss it, telling you he was going to teach you how to use a French press. It’s not that you couldn’t figure out how before, just deemed it too much work for one cup of coffee, but whatever makes the birdboy happy. You’ll pay your respects to comrade Mr. Coffee when the time comes, but for now, he gets to look completely out of place on a luxury marble countertop with a copper tiled backsplash. Which you thought was an insane choice of materials for a kitchen, but you guess that’s what makes it fancy. This place was never meant to be used like a real home.

There were quite a few doors in the hallway. You’ll probably open them all and see what’s inside once Tim leaves. The one he led you to was not the master bedroom, but it still had an en suite, and a personal balcony that you’re sure he’ll probably abuse. Apparently, he had decorated it himself. And contrary to the rest of what you’ve seen, it was not the chintz of the rest of the place. So, he did know good design after all. Made sense, you did remember this apartment as being more a front than anything. But your room was so catered. Like he knew exactly what you would have liked. Like he was paying attention.

Looking to the glow coming from the balcony, you tried to picture yourself not only surviving but thriving in this space, your brain desperately trying to cope with it all. Yeah, maybe this was just what you needed. A nice penthouse, a cool city space, just to find your way. Maybe find your person along that way too. The coolest atmosphere to match a beating heart on the lookout for something meaningful.

Tim had curated everything. Not a speck of dust or an object out of place. Perfect spaces left for all your things. Not even creepy at this point, just to be expected… Which raised some alarm bells to some. other. factors at play here.

The bed looked so cozy to you after all you’ve been through. With nice comfy bedding, like he picked it straight from your mind. Softness and style, all for you. You just knew it would feel so good wrapped around you on a cold Gotham morning. Maybe if you’re lucky, a nice warm body wrapped around you as well…

Placing a small box on the bed, you slowly began unpacking. Shelving the few books you had, you discovered that Tim had filled out the rest of the shelf space with books that were similar in genre. Further confirming the theory that he had been snooping in your apartment whenever you were out. If it wasn’t already obvious.

You glanced at Tim in the corner of your eye, all proud about how you liked the ‘nest’ he built you. It’s kinda giving werewolf porn behavior. And, well, Tim was a guy, at the end of the day. He does have a set of organs putting horny juice in his bloodstream 24/7. And he was eyeing you like a piece of meat this morning…

“So…” you let hang in the air while Tim also started cracking into a box next to you, not paying you much mind, “Am I like. A sugar baby now? Is that what’s happening here?”

Tim froze.

“…What?” he blinked.

“I mean, it’s fine. Most sugars have to suck 70-year-old dick so really, I’m being dealt a good hand here, and—“

“I— Where— Why would you think that?” Tim backed away from you, looking like you’d grown a second head, gesturing wildly, “Do I look like the kind of scumbag who would do that to you?”

“I don’t know!” you got defensive, “You’re acting weird! Like all day.”

“No. No. I told you,” he motioned to the room around you while stepping back into your personal space, “this, is for your safety. I wouldn’t take advantage of someone vulnerable under my protection like that,” he put his hand over his heart, like he was hurt that you would ever imply ill intention from him.

Tim moved the hand to your shoulder, forcing you into making intense eye contact with him as he implored, “You know that right?”

“I- yeah. I just.” You swept a piece of hair out of your face, trying to avert yourself from his piercing gaze, “this is a lot to take in. I’m sorry…”

“I just want to keep you safe, Y/n. There’s all sorts of things out here,” his voice dripped honey, and near condescension, “I don’t know where you’re from, but this is Gotham. Gotham is incredibly dangerous for people like you,”

“People like me?” Like you didn’t fucking know Gotham was dangerous—

“Weak and desperate.”

“Well.” you snapped, “Okay then, asshole. Let’s get this shit put away so you can set up whatever booby traps you want before you get the fuck out of here,”

You broke away from him to pull the lid off the next cardboard box. Turning your back on him, you began placing the items in a drawer.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Y/n,” Tim followed behind you, pleading, “We’re gonna work on it, remember? You wanted me to train you?”

You huffed, “Yeah. Yeah, I remember…”

“You’re kind of an investment now,”

“An investment.”

“Okay, that sounded bad—“

“No no, keep talking Businessman. That is totally not something a scumbag would say,”

“Look.”

And you did, glare wilting.

He put his hands up in surrender, “Let’s go back to your safety, okay? Someone with a target on their head isn’t in any position to complain. Be mad at the way I said it all you want; I’m still doing this for you.”

You looked back at him, eyes searching. This wasn’t that out of pocket for him, but it still hurt that he was directing this behavior at you. Everyone wants to believe their favorite characters would never treat them badly, far in the back of their hearts. But you have to remember that you aren’t special. Not in a world like this…

Tim evaluated your still-less-than-pleased expression, and decided to continue, “I’m sorry. I’ll try not to put my foot in my mouth again, okay? I’m just trying to take care of my own, here.”

He once again grabbed you by the shoulder, “How about, you think of this relocation as the Witness Protection Program?”

You were more uncomfortable than annoyed at this point. You decided to re-fold a sweater before putting it away, giving you something to do with your hands. You tried your best to start ignoring him, and give in, but that agitated part of you, the part that makes you look down every alley, is never going to be able to leave it alone.

“… what did I witness, Tim?” you said quietly, uneasily, “you still haven’t told me anything about that,”

He chuckled, giving your shoulder a few strokes with his thumb. You tried not to grimace as he leaned in closer to breathe a whisper to you.

“You don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it, okay?” Tim’s bright white teeth were blinding, “I’m taking care of it. Just trust me. Everything will be fine,”

All you could do was nod, and hope that what he was saying was true. You were inclined to believe him and his icy blue eyes. But Tim’s confidence didn’t help you shake the feeling that something was very wrong…

You just hope it has nothing to do with like, the Joker. If you’re gonna go out like that, you at least wanted it to be by,, literally anyone else’s hand. You’d take Condiment King over the fucking Joker any day. Even if that would be the dumbest way to die.

“I’m sorry,” you felt inclined to say.

“It’s fine. I know the situation is less than ideal for you,” he gave you a more sympathetic smile, “but I hope we’ll be good friends soon,”

You let it hang in the air a beat. Friends, huh?

“…I would like that.”

That seemed to embolden Tim. He grabbed your hand as he began to lead you back off into the hallway of a dozen doors. You kept up, but it still surprised. It broke your train of thought entirely.

“C’mon, I’ll show you how to work the house’s computer system, and then we can go get takeout and eat it on the floor,”

It seemed to momentarily distract you from the previous conversation topic, and the amused confusion on your face was really cute, he thought. A win-win.

“What? Why? We have a table and chairs. A very fancy formal dining room,”

“That’s just how people do it in the movies, on the floor,” is what he said instead of ‘that’s what couples do in the movies when moving into their first home together’.

You giggled, catching the innuendo but not mentioning it, “Okay,”

“It’ll make it ceremonial, like christening a boat,”

“We’re getting food from my favorite place, then. If I’m gonna eat off the floor, then it’s gonna be good.”

“Anything you want,” he agreed as he started showing you the buttons of the controls on the wall.

You’ll give him this small taste of domesticity. A step towards that friendship he mentioned. As weird as it is, this is more than you would’ve ever thought you’d have with someone like him just a few days ago…

The things he’s said and done may not always be the most pure and angelic, but you know you’ll never find it in yourself to hold anything against him.

This is all your fault, after all.

[thenightwinggf]

lost and found

word count 1.8k

pairing : roy harper x f!reader

summary

Roy has allegedly found a puppy--his girlfriend is scared of dogs and doesn't take 'I didn't think you'd be scared of a puppy' as an excuse.

If there was one thing that she hated—it was being woken up. Or maybe it was the ways that she was woken up, like today: Roy’s cold hands finding their way up her shirt, the soft trail of goosebumps that they left as they make their path along her torso. She whined, not fully awake but not able to fall back asleep. 

“Good morning,” He murmured, warm breath contrasting with the cold of his hands, his forearms “I’m home.” He was pressing himself closer to her, burrowing his face into her neck, inhaling the smell of her caramel scented lotion. 

“You don’t live here.” There was no fight in her voice,  it was soft with sleep and her argument had no force behind it. Roy pressed a soft kiss to her jaw, before holding his face to her own—it was freezing and she shivered from the contact. “You’re still mad?” He situated his large hands across her chest, lacing together and forcing her closer until she was covered by him, enveloped into his cold. His breaths came were heavy, just slightly as if he had been working out prior to breaking into her home to harass her. 

“You’re freezing cold.”

“Warm me up, baby.” 

She was floating between sleep, wanting to untangle herself from him but unable to—that was why he was here, counting on her being too sleepy to push him off, relying on that liminal space between sleep where she wasn’t still mad at him, where she was vulnerable with him like she could never be when he was awake.

This was the side of her she hated—the version of her that held onto her anger. Roy understood that part of her, so innately that no matter how angry she had been prior, she would always wake up to him. Roy Harper always found his way back to her. “It’s just one little dog.” Roy’s low voice rumbled against her neck. 

“You know I’m scared of dogs.” Her anger was dissipating already, she struggled to stay mad at him. Roy was too earnest. “It hates me already.” 

“You scared her.” 

“It scared me!” She countered, knowing she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after this, solidified in her assumption when Roy laughed “you’re scared of each other.” 

“That dog better not be in my living room.” 

Roy didn’t reply, which was her second red flag. The third was the way that Roy’s intertwined fingers tightened over her chest and he used that leverage to flip her over, ignoring her vague protestations as he did. Roy’s eyes had a mischievous glint, all too familiar confidence that he was doing something that she didn’t like, but wouldn’t get mad too mad at him for, pushing the limits. 

His hands pulled apart, slow and gradual slide down her torso and almost out from under her shirt, stopping just at her hipbones. She was glaring at him, his grin was wide, boyish and unbearably charming. She was daring him to try it.

Roy knew her too well, knew that she was all bluffing and bravado and pulled her onto his bare chest, slightly wet from sweat, she was glaring down at him and noticed how some his hair stuck to his forehead, smeared across, unruly, stuck to his neck, fanning across the pillow—everywhere.  “You ought to shower after working out.” How her own hair had been swept up with him.

“I know you love it, let me just—” His large hand cupped the back of her head, pushing her head towards his armpit and she shrieked, “no, no, no!” if he had wanted to, he would’ve, but he allowed for her to roll out off him and caught her when she almost rolled off the bed, not having realized how close Roy had been to the edge until there was nothing under her.

Roy pulled her right back, laughing as he did so and she was right back where she started, laying on his chest, frowning down at him. Then, with barely any time to orientate herself he had her flipped over and had positioned himself on top of her “Oof!” collapsing onto her chest, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face into the crook of her neck, right above her collarbone.

“You’re so heavy, you oaf!” 

Roy pulled back, touching his nose to hers “Say you’ll give her a try.” 

She sighed, feeling her legs fall asleep under Roy’s weight, knowing she couldn’t go back to sleep after this and desperately needing to shower after Roy had dripped sweat all over her, “And if I don’t end up liking her?” Roy’s eyes were alight with childish delight. He furiously shook his head “I’m not worried.” 

***

She was halfway under her jacked up car when Roy pulled up at the end of her driveway. She didn't need to look to know it was him, she could tell just from the sound of his truck, the purr of his engine that never sounded quite right.

From a distance, he saw the puppy curled up at her feet, looking up curiously at his truck, but not leaving her spot. Roy couldn’t help his grin as he pulled his e-brake up before hoping out of the older truck. 

“How’s that ‘try’ goin’?” Roy called, the puppy recognized him at that point, finally jumping up and running to Roy, jumping at his feet and barking. He knelt down, one hand between her ears and the other keeping him steady and keeping her away from licking his face.

He watched her wrench, catching the bolt in her hand and immediately pulling away as oil began to rapidly pour out. She moved her pan with the flow of the oil, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” the puppy had Roy’s hand in her mouth now, sharp puppy teeth digging in but not drawing blood. “Don’t rile her up!” She called, looking away from the oil just in time to see Roy pull his hand away, the puppy jumping after it. 

The oil began to slow to a dribble and she no longer had to move the pan in tandem with the flow. She watched it slow to almost nothing before placing the bolt back on and tightening, which allowed her to slide out from underneath the car and sitting up to watch Roy and the puppy jumping around.

Her hands were slick with grease, dusty and slightly covered in oil but she would wash them later, maybe after rubbing them allll over Roy when he inevitably said how right he was to bring her the puppy, something she became certain would come soon after watching the pair play together.

She wasn’t entirely sure she believed he had found her, that sensation had always been there--a gnawing, needling in the back of her head but it was growing more insistent.

No one had tried to claim her yet, it had been almost two weeks since Roy had brought her, 12 days since she had seen him last. With just a brief glance, he was unharmed, not limping, or covered in his own blood.

She would look more later, once they went into the garage and she had washed off the accumulated grime from both her irritating spark plugs and oil.

Roy was ignoring her, continuing to rile up the puppy and almost tripping over his feet running from her. “So this is where they get the name, Maligator?” She called, watching as the puppy had managed to bypass Roy’s hand, latching onto the side his sleeveless sweatshirt. 

“I think so!” Roy replied, trying to free his sweatshirt by picking the puppy up and holding her in the air, which just allowed her to better adjust her bite.

She crossed her ankles, whistling and immediately catching the puppy’s attention, who let go of Roy and wiggled out of his grasp, almost falling flat on her face with the speed she leapt away from Roy, who jogged right after the puppy, coming to a stop at her feet; looking too similar to each other. 

Roy dropped to a crouch, hand resting between the puppy’s floppy ears, boyish grin blinding her “She learns quick.” 

“No one has replied to my fliers.” She tried to sound disappointed, Roy leaned closer. Too close, she placed a palm on his forehead to push him backwards. Roy didn’t need to know that the puppy had grown on her, after the second day she had come to the conclusion that Roy had been right; they really had just scared each other. 

Roy had a flare for the dramatics, acting as if her gentle push had been a shove with the way he fell back and onto his ass, gravel digging into his palms.

She was laughing at the dark, slightly smudged print that she had left on his forehead.

“So, what are we naming her?” Roy ran a hand through his hair, pushing the strands back to avoid getting them covered in the grime she had covered his forehead with.

The puppy getting distracted by his dramatics and biting at his pant leg, she raised a brow “I didn’t say I’m keeping her—if no one claims her, then I’ll take her to the pound.” With that, she pushed herself up and tore the box that contained her new oil filter, setting the box to the right of her, where the cap that led to her windshield wiper fluid reservoir was. 

Roy was laughing now, “You’d take this cute little face to the pound?” She didn’t have to look to know that they were back to playing tug-o-war, judging from her playful puppy growls. She felt his hand brush against her calf.

She was twisting her old old filter off, setting it inside the box and dropping down to the new oil jug she had opened earlier, dipping her finger in and dragging it along the interior before wetting the new filter and twisting it back in before opening the cap to her oil reservoir “Don’t spill, don’t spill.” Came Roy’s taunting voice, her eye twitched and she leaned over, grabbing her funnel to pour. 

“I could’ve changed that for you.” The puppy was barking now, the sound of fabric tearing from behind her, “I needed to change my spark plugs, anyway.”

“I could’ve done that too.” Roy huffed and she could picture his childish pout, “What would I do then?” 

“Sit and look pretty, play with the puppy.” 

“Like what you’re doing right now?” She stopped before the jug was empty, pulling the oil stick out and wiping it clean before dipping the stick back in and testing the oil level, the deciding to add a splash more.

She listened to the sound of fabric shifting behind her, felt the heat of Roy’s chest before she felt himself press against her back, hand touching against her stomach , leaning down to whisper “Dibs on fixing your head gaskets when they blow up, again.” She elbowed him in the stomach and felt the rumble of his laugh against her back—completely unbothered by the force she had tried to put into the blow. “Dibs on fixing your third gear slip and—” She elbowed Roy again, setting down her jug of oil to dip out away from Roy. 

“I don’t wanna hear anything from you, Mr. Found On Road Dead.” She hissed, avoiding the puppy that had gone from weaving around Roy’s feet, to hers.

Roy Harper, insufferable man that he was had the audacity to not even look pained.

[thenightwinggf]

gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss

Adrian chase x f!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary:

Everything should be perfect. P is back, there is no more threats to the world and they can go back to being P and V, except, Adrian now has an arch-nemesis. Someone who is just as good as retro video games and dance dance as he is.

The best way to describe you was chaotic. Adventurous? Maybe? No, definitely more chaotic. Adventurous went with chaotic. 

And you are so bad at keeping secrets. 

You don’t mean to be. You are so just so excited to be trusted, to know something, to be in the loop, rather than awkwardly outside of it and trying to keep that big grin up. When someone asks you about a secret you know, your hands get clammy. You avert your gaze, you start to feel sick. You shift your weight, the more people look at you expectantly, the more you itch. 

You want to be liked, so desperately you feel that gossip is the only way. 

Gossip that gets you in reprimanded. Gossip gets you fired, you don’t understand, not really—if it’s true, then why is it gossip? What is truth? If they tell you, if they tell a group of people and you happen to be included, then why is it wrong if you tell someone else? Your offhanded comments, you don’t mean to get people in trouble. You don’t understand why some things are more serious than any other. 

You tell yourself, tomorrow will be better. You’ll stop, you’ll be nice, you won’t feel like crying when people say you can’t keep a secret, even when you know it’s true. You need to be involved, desperately. It’s this toxic combination that leads you to pack up everything you own and move across the country.

It isn’t other people, though it was offhandedly saying your assistant store manager was fucking a cashier that was what got you fired. It wasn’t just that, you knew. It was laughing while telling said assistant manager another coworker had been bitching at your store manager, sayin’ another guy only got the promotion because they were ‘butt buddies’ with him. 

You didn’t even really understand what that meant, that it was serious—everyone used that word to describe literally anyone at your job! It was joking with the coworker you had accidentally snitched on, it was going too far when you thought he was joking with you and watching him stomp to said store managers office. 

It was not understanding boundaries, it was playfully wrestling with a coworker when you should’ve been working, it was thinking that your shoe being hid was a joke until it wasn’t and breaking a stack of DVDs said coworker had hid to eventually purchase in retribution. You never took anything seriously, you didn’t know how. You would be presented with a moment to pivot from your humor, to be taken seriously. You never took it. 

It was rejecting the wrong guy. It was adamantly refusing you would ever be interested him—it was inappropriate, it was rude, but it was fucking true. He was a creep! He smelled bad! He was rude and misogynistic and fucking so weird! it was habit to be rude to him, he wanted to flirt with you more because of it, but you couldn’t just.. let it slide.  You were girl bossing!

You hated that part of yourself, that didn’t understand that just because something was true, doesn’t mean you should say it. That just because it’s true, doesn’t mean other people will believe you. You like to think that you are known to be truthful, but you mess around, you joke, you play pranks. You are a joke.

 The assistant manager and cashier were fucking—the cashier had shown you the text threads, the other assistant manager was selling mushrooms to your coworkers and had consistently attempted to get you to buy them. 

Sometimes, you thought it was the validation you got from being praised for a helpful truth that made you so horrible at keeping secrets—answering something that someone else wanted to know so, so bad. Being praised for being truthful. You wanted to carve that part of yourself out, you wanted to be stoic, someone who was maybe even slightly mysterious, or cool but you were a loser. 

You liked lame things, you liked video games and stupid music, you liked reading and comics and info dumping about comics and you engaged in most media passively, not enough to talk a lot like some people could. You went through intermittent phases of playing ten hours of video games a day. You had almost failed out of college because of how much your hyper fixation had consumed you.

You felt a visceral sickness at staying, at moving around a town you knew so well and knowing, everyone knew what a fucking loser you were. How stupid, how immature, you had panic attacks going within five miles of your job, every part of the landscape familiar, bringing back a moment you had looked at the field on your way to work, had stopped at the gas station, looking at the pole and remembering your coworker sitting on it. 

You decide the only solution is to pack everything you own and move across the country. That was how you ended up in Evergreen, Washington. It was a decision made by scrolling down towns across the United States and picking whatever one your thumb froze on. You were terrified, crying hunched over and sitting in a sea of cardboard and thinking about how you couldn’t find a stupid remote job where you didn’t need to interact with people and wouldn’t risk your lack of self control. It was forcing yourself to outside to find an actual job, because you couldn’t live off savings forever.

That was how you accidentally ended up working at a retro video game arcade. Key word being accident, because you had applied to the adjacent store that called itself a bookstore, but was mostly comics but they shared the same owner, and he liked you—that was the thing about you, despite your lack of self control—that came later, after you were already embedded in the work culture because you were fucking good, hardworking, a quick learn, but most importantly, friendly. You disarmed people with how cheery you were, how nice you were at first glance. 

The owner needed someone to work at the arcade and you desperately needed a job. You mostly organized the warehouse, priced items, helped record media check outs in the bookstore. You hadn’t expected it, but blissfully worked mostly separate from your team, who mingled more with customers and hated most of the warehouse work.

Which was great, until it wasn’t. It was this freaking guy that you overheard your coworkers dogging on, constantly, whenever he came in and spent hours hogging Frogger and playing excessive amounts of Dance Dance, Pac-Man, Simpsons. 

He was your nemesis, but not for any of the reasons your coworkers went on about: he was insanely good at all those games, and so were you. You two, inadvertently, were constantly battling for the top spot. He’d push you out, you’d push him out until the scoreboards were only filled with you two: TOS, VIG, VIG, TOS, VIG, TOS, VIG, TOS, VIG, TOS. 

The assortment of letters that apparently, ‘haunted him in his sleep and disrupted his crimefighting with his BFF’, whatever that meant. 

You would hover by the warehouse doors, close enough to listen to him complain that you had once again, knocked his high score down. It was so fun to hear him whine. To hear his shocked squeak when he saw it, to hear him sweat and pant while trying to set a new one, how long it took for him. You peaked out sometimes, a gentle step between the warehouse doors and watched him: lightbrown curls, wire-framed glasses, hunched over and tongue in the corner of his mouth with a look of utter concentration on his face. The man was a monster in Dance, Dance. You wanted to go against him so, so bad. 

You wanted to ask if you could play, pretend to be bad, then wipe the floor with him. 

It was all innocuous fun, all games, all silly stupid thought until you wiped his name off of every score board. 

TOS, TOS, TOS, TOS, TOS, TOS TOS, TOS, TOS, TOS on Dance Dance, Pac-man, Simpsons, Frogger, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Mortal Kombat II, Atari Centipede. Every game that even had VIG on the lower ends of the board. 

Then had three days off. 

When you came in on day four, your coworker looks haggard. Even more so than usual, her name.. Sonia? “He is so, so upset you wiped him off the board.” 

You furrowed your brows, momentarily confused before you heard a “FUCK!” echo through the empty arcade—it was 11am, after all. “VIG.” You stated. “Adrian Chase.” Sonia corrected, you furrowed your brows. It didn’t sound right, Adrian Chase, he was VIG—a name you thought stemmed from not being able to spell VAG until you tested and could, in fact, put your scoreboard name as VAG. 

“VIG.” you said again, still not fully understanding the Adrian Chase of it all. Sonia looked on the verge of tears, “W-w-whatever that freaks name is. He won’t leave, he’s scaring everyone and y-you need to deal with him.” She looked genuinely shaken up, as if someone had tried to mug her. “W..what am I gonna do?” You asked, wide eyed, gaze darting from her, to the source of the cursing just out of your eyesight, then to the safety of the warehouse doors. 

Sonia threw her hands up, “I don’t know! Something! Please!” She lunged for you, causing you to jolt back as she held tightly onto your arms, hunched slightly and looking up to you with glassy eyes. “Jeez, fine, fine!” You stumbled out of her grasp, uncomfortable, looking at the ground. 

That was how you ended up standing behind VIG, who was sweating profusely as he played Dance Dance. The sweat had turned his curls a dark brown, it was literally dripping off of him, sweat puddles on the floors as he became increasingly unable to beat even his own high scores with the imminent risk of falling so prevalent. 

You waited until his current round was over before speaking, “Could.. I play a round?” VIG whipped around towards you, absolutely furious with the audacity you had to even think of asking when his entire world was falling apart because of that stupid guy. TOS! TOS could kiss his ASS! It was ILLEGAL to be that good at EVERY VIDEO GAME ADRIAN LIKED! 

“Fuck no! Get lost!” 

You tensed. immediately deciding that being good cop wasn’t for you. “You’re the one who lost, actually.” 

“HUH?” VIG panted, wiping the sweat off his brow, but only succeeding in smearing it. His glasses were crooked, fogged up from exertion. You straightened, he pissed you off. “You heard me. I’m TOS.” He visibly jumped back, barely catchin’ himself from slipping in a puddle of his own sweat and raising a shaking hand to point, “You’re Thoracic Outlet Syndrome?!” 

“What? What the hell is that? No, it means T-” he was shaking his head, furious, pacing. “You’re my arch nemesis? I could eviserate you in an arm wrestling. I bet your grip strength is puny and that you litter which is ILLEGAL!” 

Oh, he did not just accuse you of littering. You closed the distance between you, hardly a foot away from him with your hands clenched to your side. “I do NOT litter! I drive a SUBARU! With a COEXIST magnet. I clean up litter everywhere I go because I keep trash bags and a vest and a grabber in my car, you SECOND RATE VIDEO GAME CHUD!” 

 VIG was aghast, “Second rate video game chud?!”

“I didn’t stutter! maybe if you spent less time accusing people of serious crimes you wouldn’t be so bad at video games!” 

“I am NOT bad at video games!” His glasses were so foggy, you couldn’t see any semblance of his eyes behind them. “Oh yeah, then why isn’t your name on any of the scoreboards? HUH?” You crossed your arms, leaning back with a cocky grin plastered on your face as you watched him short circuit in front of you. 

“You cheated! That’s why! That’s also illegal!” 

“Come watch me then! I’ll beat every single high score of mine and yours!” His forehead was almost touching yours, the air between you smelt like a baja blast flavored pez dispenser, which was weird, but you were more focused on how you were gonna make this fucking nerd cry. 

- 

Adrian threw open the door of the communal kitchen, visibly and comically stomping inside to the fridge where he then thew open the fridge door, causing all of the sporadic condiments to shake in the door. 

“What’s his problem?” Chris asked, slouched at the communal table wearing sunglasses to stop the light from worsening his hangover. “TOS wiped every scoreboard and then beat him in real life.”

“Terms of Service? Scoreboard?” Chris got too much pussy to understand what that shit meant, he could already feel his headache worsening, just on proximity to Adrian’s stomping and slamming literally everything he touched down. “It’s this guy’s video game tag. They had this rivalry going on at the arcade.” Economos was opening a fresh bag of corn chips. “Beat him physically?” Ads asked, looking over to where Adrian was now aggressively glaring at the tap as water filled the Brita. 

“No, dude made Adrian watch him top every leaderboard.” 

“That’s cold.” 

- 

Adrian knew you did at least one thing that was illegal and enough justification to kill you, he just needed to figure out what that one thing was. That  was why Vigilante was currently on the roof of your apartment complex, salivating at the idea of being the one who brought you to justice. 

Your complex was in a bad part of Evergreen, one half condemned and one unit boarded up with scorch marks leaking out from behind the boards nailed in place. 

He walked along the shingles, til he reached the part of the roof just above your window, laying flat on his stomach to peer over the side into your kitchen, which provided a great view of your entire one bedroom apartment. From his upside down vantage point, he watched you meticulously recycle, always break down your boxes, turn off lights in rooms you didn’t use and then, sit on your couch. You didn’t own a TV and you were surrounded by cardboard boxes. 

That was all you did, sit on the couch, read a book, go to bed at 11pm. Sometimes he watched you dig through a box or play switch and hated how much he wanted to knock on the door and ask to play with you. He shouldn’t feel like that, you were his nemesis. You were so skillful at hiding your illegal activities that you almost convinced him there were none, which wasn’t possible. 

He started bringing his switch to his stakeouts, tucked in the back pocket of his suit for when you played on yours, he would play on his. A way to potentially lower your guard, you must’ve known he was watching—even if he was super good at being sneaky. 

That was just how much of an evil genius you were, you could sense him nearby and played it cool.

This time, when he leaned over and peaked into your apartment, you were hunched over, face hidden from him and shaking. He immediately got excited—finally, you were going to do something illegal, this was the start of your evil villain laughter, your monologue he would burst through your window to interrupt, something he could kill you for. Except, you weren’t manically laughing, you were crying. Adrian thought he must’ve ate something bad, his stomach was twisting. 

Adrian told himself it was because he should’ve been the one to make you cry when he beat your high scores, but he had been too busy with saving the world and his stakeouts to beat more than just a few. 

He felt uncomfortable, suddenly he didn’t want to watch. Adrian told himself that you were crying because of how good he had been keeping an eye on you—with Vigilante on the prowl, you couldn’t put recycling in the trash or jaywalk, or speed and that must be really hard for you.

 He sat up, legs to his chest and stared up at the stars. 

He didn’t stake out your apartment the next night, or the next. He felt guilty, you could be committing heinous acts of evil because Vigilante’s watchful eye wasn’t on you. Adrian showed up the third night, a bagged burrito tucked firmly into his belt and slightly misshapen as he stared directly down at the ground, struggling to pull the bagged burrito from his utility belt from an upside down angle. 

Then Adrian didn’t know how he would alert you to it. He frowned, eyes catching the glint of a knife as everything snapped into place: a knife! 

He dropped the bagged burrito, waiting for it to fall juuuust right before throwing a knife, imbedding aforementioned knife into your door with the now crumpled bag suspended from it. Adrian was quick to stand, rushing to the other end of your unit, dropping to his stomach and peaking in through the kitchen window. 

He didn’t dare breathe as you stood at the door, hand shaking over the knob, “Hello?” You looked through the peep hole, nothing, you slowly opened the door and jumped at the sight of the bag, pinned to your front door with a knife, “What the freak?!” You leaned closer, reading the note, ‘pretzels with cheese queso and potstickers is not a balanced diet.’ 

[yanderexalicee]

Yandere Bruce Wayne x fem reader

Tw: stalking

Guys it's the first thing I write so if this doesn't flop I'm gonna make part 2

Ever since moving to Gotham, you had that uneasy feeling every time you went out. Even at home, the supposed privacy wasn't making you feel any better.

You recently got hired at Wayne entreprises, doing a boring 9-5 job. It wasn't that bad though, you had stability in your incomes, even if your salary wasn't as great as you thought it would be.

The building being over 100 floors high, you were working at the 27 floor doing some boring shits on your computer. At least you didn't need to socialize too much with your colleagues, you could just keep working quietly at your desk without being disturbed. Not talking with your colleagues means also that you never had to see the big boss, Bruce Wayne. Anyway, you don't think he would loose his time going to your floor.

Well, it's what you thought...

A month into your new job, you noticed the man doing little check ups near your workspace once in a while. "Weird" you thought. Until one day, he accidentally bumped into you, drink in a hand, spilling it all over the two of you. You instantly stared apologizing over and over again, looking at the white blouse of the CEO now ruined. You could see his face slightly twisting into a slight frustration. "My office, now", he said in a voice too calm to be able to see if he actually cared or not, though it was kind of scary.

The two of you took the elevator in a terrorizing silence, going all the way to the top floor. You caught some glazes of other employees looking at your stained clothes. When you got at the top of the building, in the office of the famous Bruce Wayne, he quietly closed the door and finally said something. " Don't worry L/N, you are not in trouble, well, not today at least.

"Im really sorry sir, but wait... how do you even know my name?" "Obviously I know your name, Y/N L/N. As for my ruined clothes, you can make it up to me, don't worry. "Well sir, my clothes are ruined too, so it's not really fair... "I never said I wouldn't make it up to you also." "Wait, I got something for you to change into, and then after you can go home for the day" he gives you a low cut soft pink blouse and lead you to the nearest bathroom. Weirdly enough, it's the exact right size to hug your curve beautifully.

You see him faintly looking at your midriff before you turn your heels and quickly get home. Just as you close the door, you notice that you forgot your purse. Then, you hear a knock on your door. You quickly open it only to see the CEO of Wayne entreprises, holding your purse like he had read your thoughts.

"Sir... what are you doing here, how did you even know my adress ?" He quietly set the purse down on your kitchen counter. "I know more things about you then you will ever know, my dear.

Humm... wait what sir? But before you said anything else he turned around and left your apartment.

[thehorniestaroace]

stupid ass freak i put him in a generic yandere visual novel and lo and behold he fits in perfectly