Oh Strange Striped Boy, Where Do You Call Home? ─ Adventures Of Rebirth; A Visit From Tsahik (Chapter

Oh Strange Striped Boy, Where Do You Call Home? ─ Adventures of Rebirth; A visit from Tsahik (Chapter 1)

archiveofourown.org

Adventures of Rebirth - Chapter 1 - CrisisCache - Avatar (Cameron Movies) [Archive of Our Own]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

After six years of growing and patience, Spider can finally fit into an exopack, and, for the first time in his life, he will step out into Pandora, into Eywa.

Spider's entry into Eywa is like a rebirth, and a rebirth is cause for celebration, so Mo'at comes to spruce him up for the day and bring him some gifts.

Set six years after Spider's birth/"The Birth of a Strange Boy". Spider is being somewhat communally raised between Max, Norm, and Mo'at. Mo'at is the one who's nearly adopted him, but Max and Norm take care of him while he's at Hellsgate.

It took five long years of waiting, six, in the long run, for Spider to take his first steps out onto Pandora. Days and days of pouting at the airlock, begging to be let out. Far too many sleepless nights spent staring out windows at the stars and asking when when when? He wanted out. He wanted to be free. He wanted to dig his toes into Eywa’s earth and feel Her winds in his curls.

He wanted to feel the sun on his skin, and not through a window. Norm had told him it burned, that it was different than just feeling it through the windows. He wanted to know what that felt like. Wanted to feel warm after being stuck in the cold metal of Hellsgate for so so so, very very, super duper long.

Norm also told him he was dramatic. He didn't agree. Had huffed and puffed about it. Many, many times.

But today was the day. He was going outside. He had practiced and practiced and practiced putting on his exopack and changing the canisters and the battery and they made sure it fit snugly. So he was going to be let outside. Tsahik had even come to see him just after Eclipse fully broke and the sky lost its golden tinge, shifting to soft blue, her smile old and wise as soon as she entered the airlock, despite her distaste for Hellsgate, and she scooped him up and placed him on her hip when he came running to greet her, feet padding against the hollow sounding metal tiles.

“I see you, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she smiled, dropping a satchel off of her shoulder, letting it fall to the floor carefully, so her now free hand, one nearly as large as his torso, could tuck his wild golden curls back, her thumb tracing his forehead stripes affectionately.

She still remembers the day she had first set eyes on him all those years ago, having heard whispers of him from Jake after the war’s end. She insisted on seeing the infant immediately. She could not believe a human born in this prison could have been so deeply altered by Eywa, but the tales had been true. She remembers how tiny he had been, at least compared to her, many told her he was good-sized for a human baby. Sometimes she still can’t believe it though, not until she traces the stripes of the flat curve of his nose or sees those telltale fangs in his smiles.

He never hid his blessings, far from it instead he reveled in them. Besides his numerous accessories, he only wore a loincloth, which normally matched with the two boys he considered brothers, Neteyam and Lo’ak, her grandsons, and occasionally a simple top he would either steal from Kiri, her granddaughter, when she outgrew them or ones he made with her when someone had gathered the supplies for them, which put his stripes on full display. And he wore his braid proudly, always playing with it or rebraiding it. Even with his eyes and his fangs, he was always wide-eyed and excited, smiling for all to see, as if to cast their bright light on the world.

She was happy to know Spider was not alone in this world, he had siblings, even if they were not bound by blood or parentage, but by spirit. Especially considering those children were her own grandchildren. It felt right. She trusted Eywa’s intentions.

“Hi Tsahik,” the child giggled back, ears perked up, rosy with the blush blossoming from his fanged smile, his baby teeth still somewhat blunt, before touching his fingers to his forehead, and fanning them back towards her, “I see you too,” he imitated, wiggling a little in the elder’s arms.

Mo’at, as usual, was beyond amused by his excitement. He was such a cheerful child considering he had been locked in this box for years and years, even if for his own safety, she marveled at his bright spirit. She doubts many could burn so brightly after years of being smothered in this cold, unliving, person. But he still was. He was bright and golden and warm and full of life.

“You will meet your Mother today, are you ready, ma’evang?” She looked at him with a serious but soft look on her face. She was far from worried for him, she trusted him to hold his own and had no fear, just as she trusted Eywa to protect the boy, but she knew she should ask. It would be proper with any other child.

He just nodded, “want out,” he whined, throwing himself against her, sagging into her hold, quite dramatically, continuing to whine, “I’m soooooooo bored,” and squirming for a few moments, before settling, “Can you braid my hair first? Don’t want it to be messy… wanna look nice,” he got quiet, looking away, as if he felt foolish.

“Of course child,” she hushed, moving to sit by the window, not wishing to be far from Eywa and her land, kneeling on the floor while she sat Spider on the windowsill. “Why else would I meet you here, other than to pretty you up, hmmm?” her fingers started to run through his curls, taking out the tangles, huffing a laugh as his ears twitched as his hair tickled them. “I brought you something I think you will like, but they are a surprise, you have to be patient while I braid.”

The boy just giggled out a little “ok”, wiggling a little, but staying still enough for her to work on his hair. It had gotten quite long; his curls went well past his shoulders, while the thick black hair that sprouted from the large black birthmark on the nape of his neck, had grown to touch his hips.

She worked his curls till she could part his hair level with his temples, separating the top layer from the thicker bottom layer, with the strands just beside his ears included so they didn’t hang over them. She then halved that section down the middle, and French braided either side till about halfway down, before bringing the loose ends together and tying them tight with a leather cord. The boy liked his hair free but not unruly and in his eyes, the volume of curls suited him.

She worked carefully and meticulously. It was hard with her large hands, but after years of doing this, she had gotten quite good. She rarely pulled or snagged, and each intricate style or technique became easier with time. Now, it was truly no problem; she could do it with her eyes closed, but she was careful nonetheless.

They chattered all the while. Spider told her about his past few days since her last visit, about the lessons he had to sit through with Max and Norm, about Jake bringing her grandbabies to visit and the antics they got up to—

“‘Teyam forgot that we aren’t supposed to run into the lab when people are in there, so I jumped super duper far and tagged him right on his tail before he could get in trouble, so he turned around and chased me,” he boasted cheerfully, “and then to make him feel better, cause he’s a little bit of a sore loser, I let him tag me back, but told him to stay away from the lab so Norm doesn’t come and scold us.”

“That’s very kind of you, little one, I’m sure Norm and Neteyam were very appreciative,” she smiled.

The boy shrugged a little, “maybe,” he replied, pausing for a moment, “I can’t wait to play tag with him outside, it’s going to be great. We can run wherever we want, as long as we stay in the village, and he told me there’s this creek we can go to, and we can go fishing!”

“Yes you will, ma’yawntutsyìp, you will, very soon.”

—and he asked questions, ones he had asked dozens of times before, about the forest and the village, and she gladly answered just as thoroughly as she had the first, second, and hundredth times. She told him about the trail from Hellsgate to the village. She talked about all the animals they might see. She told him about all the important people he might meet. She told him anything she could think of.

As she worked, she placed an assortment of beads and feathers from a case in her satchel in front of the boy, allowing him to hand them back to her when he pleased, and added them in. He had some he kept in more permanently, but she thought this was enough of an occasion to spruce it up. And in the end, his hair was full of orange and red beads, and plenty of feathers of similar colors.

“Red is my favorite color, just like yours right?,” he asked, playing with the crimons beads of her shawl while she braided his overgrown baby hairs into little loopy braids and tied them up into his larger braids, using red feathers to hide the twine.

“That it is, ma’evang, that it is,” she smiled, “I’ve always liked it, it’s very bright and and mighty, like you, tsamsiyutsyìp.”

The boy giggled, hiding his face in his hands, “thank you Tsahik.”

She had long stopped trying to get him to call her by her name or some other less formal term. It seemed like ‘Tsahik’ felt like a term of affection in his young mind, and it is what he preferred to call her, and she wouldn’t force him to stop. And it was, quite frankly, adorable, anyway, so she was even less insistent on that front.

When she finished with his curls, she braided his ‘kuru’, gathering the thick black hair in her fingers and smoothing it so it looked nice and sleek, just like how Spider liked it. He didn’t have a true queue, but on instinct, she was immensely gentle, as if there was something to snag there outside of hair.

“Not too tight?” she asks periodically. He always says no, because she was careful. But she checks in again and again every time anyway. And with that, a final piece of cord, his hair was finished, and she was quite pleased with her work. “I think you look quite stylish, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she murmurs, “very proper for your big day.”

Spider jumped up at that, springing to crouch close to the window on all fours, something that looked both odd and overly natural on his tall, lithe, lanky frame. He crouched like a Na’vi would, but at first glance, he looked ever so slightly too human for that to look right. It still caught Mo’at off guard despite all her time with him.

She watched as he inspected his hazy reflection with a pleased look. “Perfect!” he cheered after a few moments, jumping off the sill and wrapping around her legs, “thank you,” he murmured against her.

She patted his head gently, careful of the beads, not wanting them to hurt his scalp, “you are very welcome my child, now, are you ready for your gifts?” she smirked, watching as he popped up and down excitedly.

“Yes yes yes yes!” he cheered, his golden hair bouncing, the feathers fluttering and beads clicking.

“Ok ok, ma’yawntutsyìp, ok,” she steadied him, a hand on his shoulder, “sit, and I will bring it to you,” she spoke softly but firmly, waiting for Spider to obey, still wiggling, something that seemed like a permanent state of being for the rowdy six-year-old, before reaching for the satchel she had left by the airlock doors. “I believed you needed some simple things before you ran out into Eywa’evang,” she said softly, kneeling beside him once more.

She opened the sachet and pulled out a few items; a folded fabric bundle, a small knife, a smaller bag, and a small bow accompanied by a small quiver of wooden arrows.

Spider watched on with curious awe, his head bobbing and weaving to try and see everything up close, but he was patient, hands kept in his lap, fiddling with the little songchord on his belt to keep from touching the other items before he had permission.

“You will train with this bow, it’s simple, and you are allowed to make mistakes with it, so you can learn how it can become damaged, so you don’t make the same mistakes with your proper bow, and when you are ready, you will carve your own from the remains of our Hometree, and make your own arrows,” she explained, handing the bow to him. It was small, made of common wood and string, a head shorter than Spider. A good introduction to the tool.

But Spider looked at it as if it was made of pure gold from Eywa herself. He marveled at it, even though there was truly nothing to look at. It was plain, not even painted or mounted with a grip. His fingers traced the wood, over smooth edges and hard knots, over the lacing, and down the taught edge of the string.

“Pretty,” he whispered.

“Very,” she agreed, even if she did not see the same beauty he did, “when we get to the village, you can practice with Neteyam, he got his bow a few days ago, and maybe you two could convince Kiri to help you gather some supplies to decorate them, yes?”

The boy nodded, “I can’t wait, it’s going to the best, ‘m gonna get to spend all day with them, and we’re gonna go on so many adventures. And I’ll get really good with my bow, so I can keep them safe. Better than ‘teyam even! Cause he’s my baby brother, and I have to be better so he’s safe,” he rambled, hugging the bow tight, “but he can be second best, I just need to be this much better,” he pinched his fingers tight, holding them close to his eye to show just how much better he needed to be, “not a lot, just a little.”

“I’m sure you will, child,” she nearly cooed, heart swelling at the sight of his determination, “and what about Kiri or Lo’ak, when they get their own?”

“That’s up to ‘teyam how much better he thinks he needs to be, but maybe this much” he shrugged and held his fingers just a little apart like it was obvious. Children were so sweetly simple. Especially this one. It endeared her to no end.

“I think that is a good amount,” she agreed, smoothing his cheek with a soft huff of laughter, before turning back to the items she had set out, picking up the tiny little hooked knife– the blade made of an opaque amber, intricate red lacing holding the red-dyed hide and bright tan and black braided sinew grip to the handle, a little orange feather hanging off the end –placing it in his tiny little palm, “this is very sharp, you can use it to forage and hunt, but also to protect yourself, as long as you use it very carefully, ok?”

“Ok Tsahik,” he nodded, inspecting it carefully, pressing his finger to the edge of the blade, careful not to cut himself, but rather feel the blade’s edge, to feel its strength and thinness, before feeling over the rest of the blade, at the little curves and edges made from carving.

“And you will need somewhere to carry it,” Mo’at murmurs, opening the bundle of cloth, “I had Norm give me this strap,” she presented an exopack strap, it was mostly plain, outside of a leather hilt fixed to the chest half of the strap, “it needs more work, but this is a start, so you can wear your blade at all times.”

“cool, thank you Tsahik” he murmured, his attention having moved from inspecting the knife to inspecting the strap and hilt, placing the blade in it and then taking it out several times, little fingers feeling every detail, before he began thinking, “it needs beads, and stain, this color is icky,” he commented to himself, “Norm said I could paint my exopack if I’m careful around the filters,” he looks to her, “can you show me how to make them?” he asked with a smile, scooting closer.

“Of course, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she replied, patting his back “What colors should it be?”

“Mmmmm….. Blue!” he shouted after a moment of thinking, “I can make it all stripey, like you and Kiri and ‘teyam and Lo’ak!” he giggled, cutting off his ramble of what might be the name of every Na’vi he knew.

“Blue is a very nice color,” she agreed, shaking her head at the boy's antics fondly.

“Mhm mhm,” he hummed, eyes tracking towards the rest of the cloth bundle.

She smirked, placing it in his lap to look through. He pulled out a new loincloth, one made of a finer deep brown, almost black, hide than his other loincloths, this one as much less meant for play and roughhousing, though it would likely see it anyway, but for formality, celebration. The main belt, made from the same hide, just braided into a thick band, wrapped around his waist, while thinner belts held back and front flaps together lower down his hips, and dripped in beads of amber and turquoise, and little feathers of yellow and blue. Long braided fibers that were more tufted near the end lined the sides of either flap, the fibers ranging from red to orange to a light tan color, more saturated at the top, and duller near the bottom.

His eyes went wide, his voice a soft whisper, like there were no words on his mind, just pure glee. He leaned close, piling into her lap as a ‘thank you’, hugging her arm for a moment, not even reacting when her tail came to wrap around him instinctually, eyes still fixed on the intricate item, before he broke into thank yous, jittering with excitement, “thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you Tsahik!!!” he bellowed, “did you make this?” he asked, looking up at her.

“Of course I did, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she smiled, patting his cheek, “who else could make such art?”

He shrugged, “you and Mrs. Sully are both really good,” he replied, before focusing back on the loincloth, “It’s so cool and fancy, I love it.”

She smiled at the fond comment he made towards her and her daughter. The boy held love for her Neytiri, even when she struggled to hold much fondness for him. She would come around one day, she was trying to anyway, and Spider was so good about it, even though he was young. He loved her despite the distance between them.

“Good. now keep looking, there’s more,” she prompted.

Spider nodded, keeping to his spot in her lap, eyes hesitantly leaving the loincloth he still held in his lap, before picking up a matching top. It was simple, and much more decorative than functional. It was a simple braided choker with beaded strands that hung down to armbands for either arm, both lined with little teeth and claws she had collected over the years, fitting for the little boy full of spunk. He showed it the same level of awe and care as the previous article of clothing.

“Kiri helped me with this one,” Mo’at informs, showing him the bicep cuffs, “she braided in beads left over from those friendship bracelets you all made together, see,” she pointed to the multicolored beads; Kiri had chosen soft green beads, Neteyam had pick jagged stormy blue ones, and Lo’ak had chosen rough black ones, while Spider had chosen shiny brown and orange beads that glowed when the light shifted over them.

“I like it,” he smiled, “they look pretty together.”

“She knew you would,” she assured, “was quite insistent she add her own touch.”

Then there was a braided shawl, a thick piece of hide was where his shoulders would be, while the rest was made of a thin but sturdy twine in a net-like fashion, and the edges were lined with little beads and feathers as well. Mo’at had gone all out for him, this was a big day, nearly the same as if it was his birth, which she had missed by many months. This was a rebirth. An entry into Eywa’s world. She had to spoil him rotten, she couldn’t help it.

“This is to protect your shoulders, the sun will be very harsh on your young skin,” she murmured softly, pulling a braided case made from old shell pods, opening it to expose a thick white cream, “make sure you apply this, all over, but mostly on your face and shoulders, every day, at every meal you spend outside, to protect your skin, yes?”

“Yes Tsahik,” he grumbled, already unhappy with it, because, for some odd reason Mo’at doubts she will ever find the reason for, children loathe suncream, even those who only need it sparingly.

“And wear your shawl when the sun is high, you will regret it if you burn down to the bone,” she warned.

“Yes Tsahik” he continued to grumble even more dramatically.

“Now, last thing,” she pulled a small bead from the bag, it was bright blue and intricately carved with braided patterns, “for your songschord, for your first journey into Eywa.” That got her an ‘oooooooh’ as he felt the pattern. “I want you to find something else to attach with this, and place it in this pouch, along with anything else you may want or need,” she handed him a simple pouch to tie onto his belt, “and when you find it, when you know it’s the one, I will help you tie them on.”

He nodded still transfixed, spinning the bead in between his fingers, leaning back against her chest, swallowed up into her arms, her beaded shawl hanging over him, and her braid hanging in her lap, close to his own.

“Now, go get changed, call if you need help, though I have no doubt that you are smart enough to figure it out. Be quick, Jake is bringing your siblings, they will meet us soon, they’re quite excited.”

He smiled at that, “I can’t wait, they have to show me everything!” he shouts, popping out of her lap, taking the clothing and the pouch with him, tucking the bead safely inside of the latter, “I’ll be right back,” he called out to her, running towards his room.

She could only smile, the boy was something else, so wild and free and loud, but in a way that was more charming than all else. Hellsgate could not hope to contain him much longer. The elder knew that well enough.

Spider was quick, he’d gotten very good with the workings of a loincloth, this one just had extra steps, and the top went on easily enough. He unfastened his songchord off of his now piled-on-the-floor loincloth, and tied it to the belt of the one he was currently wearing, before dumping out all his little trinket jewelry his siblings had made for and with him from his keepsakes box, tying on layers of bracelets and anklets, made from anything they could get their little hands on, even a few necklaces that hung just beneath the choker. Lastly, he put on his mama’s dog tags–

He used to feel ashamed of wearing them, but Mo’at said it was good to remember her, even if she wasn’t a good guy. She was always gonna be his mama, and she just wanted the best for him. He was allowed to love her. So he did

–before stuffing some trinkets and other little supplies in his pouch, grabbing his mask, the one he had decorated with beads and feathers to hang down from the straps, and bringing it back to his Tsahik.

She smiled at the sight of him, the pieces she– and Kiri, she couldn’t dismiss her efforts –made suited him well. He jingled slightly as he ran, sliding through the halls expertly, no doubt having done it dozens upon dozens of times a day just to keep entertained. She had gotten the proportions just right, and he looked like a true little warrior. A stylish one at that. She was proud. Of him and her work.

The tans and browns in the pieces brought out his stripes, and the yellows complimented his eyes. He was sliding the exopack over his face, which pulled his hair even further from his ears, making their fluttering to get comfortable within the straps of the mask obvious. The added feathers framed his features nicely.

“I say you look quite ready to go exploring, hmmm?” she asked, standing, groaning slightly as her wearing joints protested the move, and he was by her side before she could realize it. He was too tiny to help her up but tried anyway. Because that’s the type of boy he was. “Thank you, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she murmured, “I’m ok, it just takes a moment.”

“I know…” he admitted glumly, “just wanna help anyway.”

She patted his hair at that, before moving to scoop him up, “of course you do, with that heart of gold of yours,” she wiggled a finger at his chest, tickling him slightly, “isn’t that right?”

That wiped the glum look off of his face and he looked smitten once more, “I just like being helpful!” he argued, as if there were anything to defend.

“And there is nothing wrong with that, child, not ever, it is a good thing,” she assures, watching out the window as a gaggle of small blue figures start to appear from the forest line, “now, I believe your siblings are nearly here, see,” she points out the window, “why don’t you gather your things, we will be off shortly.”

The boy hesitated at first, still clinging close, his head rested on her collar, legs curled around her waist. Spider got…. anxious…. when those in his life gave him any inkling that they would leave. Whether it be her age, or when Norm or Jake left the lab for too long, or even when Neytiri went unmentioned for too long. It worried him. It was understandable, considering how much he had lost so young, but broke her heart nonetheless.

“I am not going anywhere, ma’evang, I promise,” she soothed, rubbing his back, “my bones are just stiff, do not fret.”

“... Promise?”

“I promise,” she moves to put him down, “now go, fetch your bow, and bring that cream over here, I will not have you cooked your first day out,” she has a cheeky smile on her face, knowing that being mad about suncream will distract him from his anxieties more than anything else.

And she is right, he scurries away from her grumbling “Noooooooooooo!”, hiding the bowl behind his back the second he gets his hands on it, a smile on his face, daring her to try and get it back from him.

She stalks him like a nantang would stalk a yerik, getting low, arms around ready to grab him. He’s pressed into a corner, waiting for the right chance to run. It takes a minute before he decides to try and make a break for it, sliding between her legs, but she catches him, picking up the wiggling child with ease.

“You aren’t quite fast enough yet, child, do not underestimate me just because I am an elder, my reflexes are still sharp,” she scolds playfully, holding out in front of her till his limbs sag and he gives up.

“Don’t want it, it feels yucky,” he pouts, the shell pod still in his little hand.

“You will live, I assure you,” she says finally, before sitting him on the sill, taking the pod from him, and scooping some of the off-white paste onto her fingers. The boy sniffs it, his almost feline-like nose twitching before he turns it away.

“Gross.”

“You are gross, ma’yawntutsyìp,” she refutes, “I have seen you take mud baths in the greenhouse.”

“That’s different!”

“Sure it is, that was mud, this is suncream. One of them has a benefit, and one was a mess that took hours to clean.”

The boy crosses his arms and huffs. She smeared her fingers down his shoulders and arms, and then over his ears, which he was trying to fold back so she could not reach them, but it was no yes.

“You have to take your mask off, it will not protect you from the sun.”

“I just got it on right,” he whined, leaning back against the window as if that was out of reach for her long arms.

“And you knew you needed to put this on first, I told you that, now come on, off with it, or your siblings will come in here and watch you be a baby about suncream,” she knows that’ll get his attention, “you want to be a brave boy for them, yes?”

He stares at her for a moment, then out the window at his approaching siblings, and then pulls off the mask. “Fine,” he relents, sitting up so she can easily reach his face, and she smears her palm down his face, rubbing the cream down his face gently enough to not hurt but harshly enough to make him splutter a bit.

“All done, see how easy that was?” she asks pointedly, watching the boy recover.

“Yucky,” was all he said, blowing a raspberry.

The elder shakes her head and stands, “get your stuff and put your mask back on, I doubt your siblings will have any patience to keep them from dragging you straight out that door.”

He complies with general ease, pulling his bow and quiver strap over his shoulder, gingerly easing them to hang across his chest and onto his back, and double-checks that his knife is in his hilt and his pouch is secured to his belt correctly, before scrambling across the room for the exopack component that was currently charging.

She watched as he, near expertly from all his practice, putting the different pieces together, clicking battery packs and canisters and tubes into their place, checking them over, ensuring all was well, before fixing the mask back onto his face, and strapping that too over his chest, the hilt level to his heart.

“All done!” he declared, standing proud.

She inspects him. He was clothed and his hair was tamed. He had his new bow and knife. His exopack was, seemingly, in order, though she would have Jake check it before he even stepped towards the airlock. He did seem quite ready to go.

“You have been fed today, correct?” she enquires.

The boy nods. “Max made pancakes! I even got to use real syrup, not the icky stuff we normally use.”

She only vaguely knew what he was talking about, but she nodded anyway. He had eaten, that was all that mattered, and it even seemed like he was happy with his meal this morning, instead of grumbling about mush or the like.

After a few more moments of Spider continuing to ramble on about his morning and breakfast, he stopped. His ears perked up, and he heard the outer door opening, the airlock hissing, and the giggles of his siblings.

He waited right at the door, bouncing on the pads of his toes. Sometimes Mo’at finds herself imagining what it would be like if Eywa had managed to give him a tail. She believes it would manage to become a weapon when he was this excited. It brings a laugh to her lips.

And before she thinks he can fidget out of his own skin, hands finding his songchord once more, running over the beads, a habit of his, the inner door opens, and he is all but tackled to the floor by three little blue bodies, their tails high, and voices even louder.

Her eyes meet Jake's as they share an exasperated smile and a deep breath as they prepare for what's to come.

Switched At Birth (Part Seven)

A/N: What, I couldn't think of a new gif idea. Don't judge me. Anyway, my laptop has been acting weird so I might not be updating as frequently. I'll try to keep it consistent though. Also, confession time, I don't particularly like Damian but I hope I was at least faithful to his character.

Taglist (I'll add you if you ask):@luludeluluramblings, @von-jour, @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @kenyummy, @bunniotomia, @ch1cky-093, @toxicthotsyndrome68, @cynniee, @icefox8155, @eyeless-kun, @c4xcocoa, @ed15fashionista, @yourtypicalhuman09, @fightmebissh. @tsuniio, @fantasyhopperhea, @type-ink, @dirtydiavolo, @colorfulgardenerduck, @seemeee3, @ironsaladwitch, @yumeravenclaw

Yandere!Batfam X Switched! Fem! Reader X Yandere!Wayne!OC

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Damian sat stiffly in the back seat, the city’s lights flickering across the window like a metronome. Alfred hummed quietly from the driver’s seat, an old jazz record playing low beneath the rumble of Gotham's streets. He wasn’t really listening. His eyes were fixed on the sidewalk they passed—the boarded-up storefronts, cracked concrete, and faint trails of ivy creeping where they didn’t belong.

Then something caught his eye.

Two figures, ducking through the narrow breach of a long-forgotten building. The glass dome above gave it away.

A conservatory.

His brows knit as he craned slightly, watching Melissa Wayne disappear through the broken wall. She was laughing—a soft, theatrical sound. And beside her—

There. That other one.

An unfamiliar student. Damian could only see their profile, but they were smiling too.

His frown deepened.

“—Are you listening, Master Damian?” Alfred asked gently.

“I saw something,” Damian muttered, still watching. “They shouldn’t be in there.”

Alfred didn’t respond. But Damian wasn’t looking for permission.

He didn’t trust Melissa. He never had.

But it wasn’t her that held his attention.

Melissa Wayne was far from exceptional. In his mind, at least.

She didn’t possess any athletic prowess, wit, or intelligence. The only thing distinct about her was her simpering visage—a perpetual mask of demureness, carefully arranged, right down to the slight tilt of her head and the way she blinked just a second too slow. She was practiced. Performed. Vaguely, she reminded him of the socialites who clung to his father during charity galas—smiles and silk gloves, hiding emptiness underneath.

She walked like someone who could only follow. Spoke like every word was a test.

She had a knack for drifting just close enough to be noticed, then fading into the periphery when it suited her. Never too loud. Never too quiet. Just... there. And hollow.

Damian had seen it before. In court. In League spies. In orphans trained to survive by becoming whatever someone else needed.

But Melissa?

She didn’t even do it well.

It was all mimicry. Secondhand charm and borrowed elegance. And yet, somehow, Father still looked at her with a kind of weary obligation, as if trying to fit her into a frame she didn’t belong in.

She bore the Wayne name, but not its weight. A bastard from a dalliance with some drug-addled harlot.

And Damian had never been more certain of that than now, watching her disappear into the ruins of the conservatory like a ghost playing house.

What interested him was the one who followed her.

The one beside her. The girl who walked into the darkened building with such a warm smile.

“Pennyworth, I’m leaving,” Damian announced, already opening the door. “Tell Father I’ll return.”

It was child’s play to slip into the shadows after them, though it would’ve drawn too much attention to follow them directly. Instead, he slunk into the green gloom surrounding a slumping side exit, swallowed by the ever-encroaching vegetation.

The conservatory loomed above him—rusted beams swallowed by ivy, glass warped and cracked like old bone. Damian narrowed his eyes at the structure. Sentiment. That’s what drew people to ruins—the desperate need to assign beauty to something that had long since rotted. He didn’t understand it.

He crouched low near a collapsed trellis, silent as mist, and tracked movement through the gaps in the stained glass. The figures inside cast shadows—one tall and poised, the other more inward. Melissa’s laugh chimed again, muffled by the thick, damp air. He could see the way she tilted her head, leaned in just so. He’d seen that posture before—a pathetic display of submissiveness from her bowed head to her large, watery eyes.

But the other girl didn’t mirror it, from what he could see. The dusk darkened his view, but still—she stood slightly apart, watching and listening. When she laughed, it was real. Not the kind you staged.

Damian studied her longer than he meant to.

She moved with ease. Not trained—nothing polished—but she wasn’t wary of the space. Or of Melissa. That was... rare.

He adjusted his footing on the soft soil, the hem of his uniform brushing against the weeds as he continued his quiet surveillance. Something about the scene gnawed at him. There was too much softness in it. Too much calm.

And calm, in Gotham, never lasted.

He tapped his comm and muted it. No reason to alert the Cave—yet. This was inconsequential. If it escalated, he’d act.

For now, he stayed in the green-dark, watching the two girls in the crumbling greenhouse. One, hollow and scheming. The other... confusing.

He didn’t know her name.

But she didn’t belong with Melissa Wayne.

She belonged somewhere better.

And Damian intended to find out where.

When the setting sun was finally extinguished, he watched as the two of you exited, trailing shadows nipping at your heels. He followed—certain he had not been detected. How could he be? He was the heir of the Demon’s Head, and you were civilians.

That’s what he thought—until you turned and looked over your shoulder. It could’ve been mistaken for you calling back to Melissa, if you hadn’t caught his eye.

An accident, he assured himself.

But you smiled. A cheeky, knowing smile.

Had you known he was there the entire time?

He froze beneath the greenery as Melissa remained clueless to his presence. As the two of you mounted the bike, he heard you laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Melissa asked, smiling but clearly confused.

“Thought I saw a rat.”

A rat? he thought, and Melissa echoed it.

“Yeah, small one. Ugly, though.” You chuckled, pushing off and pedaling away.

It was embarrassing how long it took to process your words. But when they registered, he flushed an indignant red.

That insolent little—

@gothamu_streets just saw a girl on a beat-up bike pedaling through Midtown with Melissa Wayne riding shotgun??? is this performance art or did I hallucinate that 📍Midtown, Gotham | 🕒 6:42 PM

@g0thamg1rl whoever that was biking Melissa Wayne down Crime Alley is braver than any marine. literally thought that was a jumpscare. 📍Lower Park Row (edge of Crime Alley) | 🕒 7:06 PM

@nvmfrankie wait—isn’t that the same girl she was with at that thrift shop on Canal St? she had the cutest cat socks @watchdogtruths yup. same height, same backpack. girl’s got rizz, tbh @bratbutgoth the thrift store girl??? oh, she’s deep in the Wayne drama now lmaoo

@vigilantytea mel wayne riding on the back of someone’s bike?? no bodyguards? no limo?? did she get disowned or is this the start of her villain arc 💀 📍Gotham U District | 🕒 6:57 PM

@waynewatchdog 🚨SPOTTED: Melissa Wayne seen cozy with a mystery student—caught riding two-up on a rusty bicycle in the East End. Is Gotham’s quietest Wayne heir finally rebelling? Or is this her way of going “normal girl”? Developing story. 👀 📍East End, Gotham | 🕒 7:12 PM

@sunlesssundays she’s not a mystery, I literally saw them together in Old Gotham like weeks ago @bootlegoracle same girl from that viral pic outside ThriftHaus on 9th. band sweatshirt, cat socks, huge bi energy. I remember things @bluelightgotham maybe she’s just a friend??? maybe mel wayne has friends like the rest of us and they thrift together. calm down, internet @n0tjackryder nahhhh no one thrifts in tandem unless it’s serious

@notbatmanirl bike kid got mel wayne smiling? either this girl’s a genius or Gotham’s about to burn down again. 📍St. Aubyn’s Overpass | 🕒 6:55 PM

@stainedglassx not her being the same girl from the thrift store pics 😭😭 i knew she was gonna be important @voidcandy this girl better get hazard pay. I’d evaporate under that much Wayne-family attention @gotham4thegirls melissa wayne and her thrift-core goth gf giving romcom energy while unknowingly walking into danger?? sign me UP

@gothamtabloid Melissa Wayne ditches her driver for a late-night bike ride with a mystery companion. Young love… or something darker? 👀🖤🚲 📍Broadcasted from Gotham Heights Newsroom | 🕒 7:40 PM

@cheesyfriesonmain someone tell me why mel wayne looked like she was clinging to that girl on the bike like her life depended on it. was that a date or a hostage situation? 📍Corner of 5th and Monroe | 🕒 6:51 PM

@roguechronicles Y’all really sleeping on the fact that the girl biking Melissa Wayne through Gotham was smiling. Like ma’am, do you know what city you’re in?? 🧍‍♀️ 📍Old Gotham Strip (near the border of Crime Alley) | 🕒 7:01 PM

@whoisontheguestlist Okay but… who is the girl with Melissa Wayne? New intern at Wayne Enterprises? Daughter of a rival family? Or just a cute nobody doomed to get caught in a mess? 📍Posted from Gotham City Center | 🕒 7:35 PM

A/N: This kinda felt like a nothing burger. I didn't really continue the story. anyway, hope you liked Damian's pov.

595 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

1 month ago

Alright gang, here me out-

The What if: Mom never died Au, but she gets with one of the Gotham’s sirens or even better, Talia instead of giving Bruce a second chance?

Because I can and will make our mom a baddie cuz she’s girlboss.

Bruce standing in front of your mother’s door: Please, I know I messed up, but I need you and our child. We could raise them together with our other children, they need a mother and you need me.

(M/N): Do you mind? I’m trying to spend time with my girlfriend.

Bruce: Who-?

Ivy striding in from the bedroom, wrapping her arms around your mother: My beautiful queen bee~ what brings Bruce Wayne here~?

(M/N): Just here to give me some child support I suddenly realized I’ve never gotten for 16 years

OR

Damien: Mother!! What is this?! Why are you involved with this bland civilian?!

Talia trying to show Damien how much she lived your mother by openly being handsy: Don’t be that way, Damien. She’s my wife now and you’ll have to get along with your new sibling.

(M/N) trying to prevent Talia from traumatizing Damien from her friskiness: We don’t have to get along immediately, but I hope I’ll earn your respect as much as you earn mine.

You awkwardly stand there next to a very angry practically shaking Damien while your moms pulled each other away.

You: So… You like bees?

Damien: …yes…

OR

Bruce as Batman on a rooftop with Selina as Catwoman: I don’t know why she doesn’t accept one date! We had such chemistry when we met.

Selina on her phone: Uh huh

Bruce: I mean, sure I ran away like a coward, but I’m here now. And she shouldn’t hold that against me when she didn’t even inform me of (Name), I would’ve taken them in and cherished them both.

Selina: Uh huh

Bruce: Okay, you’re obviously not listening, what are you doing?

Selina: Texting (M/N) to remind her to better get ready for tonight. Alfred is watching over (Reader) so we wouldn’t have any interruptions if you know what I mean~?

Either way, it’ll drive Bruce CRAZY since he fumbled so hard that your mother decided men weren’t worth it. Not like Ivy, Selina, or Talia are any better, they’re still yanderes for your mother AND you.

Ivy: Why bother bonding with your human siblings when your true siblings are here~?

You stared at her while being surrounded by many sentient plants.

You: I mean… it’s better than nothing I guess.

Meanwhile Dick is banging on the glass window, crying and begging for you to spent time with you big brother, and the others are sneaking around to snatch you away.

Selina: I’ll teach you many skills, like how to fight in heels, steal from towering buildings, and seduce men and women~

You were attempting to try and do a sexy walk as she cried with tears of joy while taking photos to show your mother.

Alfred having a heart attack for even thinking about the possibility of you being sexualized for men and women: Absolutely not!!

(Selina ended up getting scolded while pouting by your mom and Alfred)

Talia: (Name), my dear. You are worth so much more than your neglectful family had given you credit for. I promise you I’ll find a way to make your mother pregnant with my babies and you’ll have better siblings.

You: Gross! Why do you keep telling me these things?!

Damien: I agree, mother! Shield their innocent ears from your escapades! And obviously you should only impregnate their mother with twins!

You: Stop talking about my mom like that!! And how do you both keep getting into my room?!

A/N: just something to feed yall until the actual chapter 6 comes out lmao

I swear I’ll post it soon 😭 glad to see many threats (not actual threats dw) on my downfall

Taglist: @pix-stuff @jellystar-star @moon0goddess @bad4amficideas @lettucel0ver @lithiumval @degenerates-posts @ryuushou @deathbynarcisstick @silverklaus @artistwithcreativeburnout @middevil465 @jsprien213 @1abi @oliviaewl @redkarmakai @nxdxsworld @the-dumber-scaramouche @sc3n3mo-t3to @tw-om-gi-hs-56387 @bunniotomia @welpthisisboring @rad4bean @ithoughtthinks @reeyy0-2 @ceramic-raven

420 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

8 months ago

Silly Comic I Made After Having A Heart Attack When I Woke Up With My Cat Staring At My Soul

Silly comic I made after having a heart attack when I woke up with my cat staring at my soul

923 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

1 year ago

Shit ok. You said out loud what I was thinking. Like I love Kate, Anthony and all the Bridgertons in their own right but DAMN, sometime it's obvious they have this "main character" shield. They do the most fucked up things that would usually get them in BIG trouble for that tims but there's no consequences.

Like I can understand the mistakes and wrong doings of Marina and Penelope for diverse reason because they got some kind of consequences for their action. But like can we talk about how Daphne SA Simon and acted like the victim aftrrward? And she got ehat she wanted at the end. Anthony and Kate didn't have the balls to be honest with themselves and Edwina and the only thing they got was like a week, maybe two, of bad reputation and avoidance from the ton. And then they got married when they ruined a marriage the QUEEN herself organize?!

Why I will never ever take Bridgerton fandom or mainly any tv/film fandoms seriously especially the Bridgerton one because they genuinely like trash toxic disgusting characters like Eloise Anthony Kate Daphne but hate Marina Edwina Colin and Penelope and the only reason they like Kate is because she’s their self insert girl to be with the hot nasty white boy they fancy Anthony and the only reason they dislike Colin who’s perfect and the best man brother wnd Bridgerton in that whole show is because he’s Penelope friend and love interest it’s clear as day they whole fandom hatred for them is based on racism misogynior and fatphobia because you can’t tell me you genuinely like Daphne who’s a se*ual assaulte* (which btw people hate Alison in UA for as they should but they deem her as the devil worst most evil human ever that was kissing too but daphne does a whole SA rap*e but she don’t get the same energy Daphne don’t even get any energy about in fact she gets nothing is because what she did was towards a poc character so it don’t matter right and things only matter when poc/woc characters does anything or just breathes in the wrong direction or towards a yt character right they are

deemed satan sporn crucified fandom love to put woc/poc character on high standards then white characters who can just live life and do all mistakes without facing consequences or remotely anything even if it’s literally sexu*ul assaul* or crimes like plz be fr and don’t get me started on them like having understanding sympathing and making all the excuses in the world for daphne even tho she’s sexua* assaulte* but they hate Marina for doing what was best for her children and herself there’s absolutely no understanding no sympathy or empathy for her and the life she’s lived which was so sad and cruel in fact she’s lived the worst life but they have no understanding for her but can easily do for other characters who’s lived a spoiled happy privileged life like the Bridgertons but nothing for the poor sad heartbroken girl in that society being not just any girl but a woc and not a rich woc that is protected by love or money like say queen Charlotte duke was in that era

being great mother doing whatever for their kids which is another thing fandoms love Portia as they should bc she was doing what was best for her kids as a mother does and should always do (my queen except when she’s cruel to pen and her sister) when she said she was mother and her team was the 3 girls the fandom call her bad bitch best mom who loves her kids as they should bc it’s true and Georgia in G&G calling her girl boss bad bitch best mother and queen thingz for doing everything for her kids and herself but Marina doing the same in time in a society where people like her poor black woman with no high status or family meant nothing who’s opinion and life and gender was seen as less, for her it’s she’s the devil trapping Colin like he still didn’t want her afterwards saying it didn’t matter to him that she was pregnant with another man baby that he loved and would’ve helped her if he knew😂 she’s manipulative trapping him all the bla bla no she was doing what was right and best for her at that time and we shouldn’t applauded her for her mistakes for doing what was wrong to towards Colin or lying to him but understand her time and life and see she was very desperate have some sympathy for god sake she made a mistake she did something wrong we see it her it but so did everyone else there and y’all have understanding sympathy for them but can’t do the same for her why?

(at least she came clean and apologized and got her consequences more then I can say for any bridgerton character that’s not Colin because they all somehow never seem to get any consequences for their actions or the things they do and the people they hurt just disappear or are the ones getting hated on or they get their happy ending with a person they hurt) but when another white woman character does that same exact thing but it’s way worse it’s girl boss) and that’s why I can’t take any fandom but especially the Bridgerton fandom seriously and don’t even get me started on the unnecessary hate Penelope Colin and Edwina get all the time sure Penelope at least did something bad once or twice or thrice and I’m not excusing her but it’s not remotely close to anything those other characters or even Eloise did and Kate Anthony get nothing even tho they are literally the most evil characters in that show along with daphne, Eloise is horrible awful cruel human but she’s not a devil just mean whiny privileged spoiled narcissistic hypocritical bitc*h and anyone that likes these characters but hate on Penelope who tried everything to save herself and her friend can stfu and anyone who hates Edwina and Colin literally the best characters in the whole universe who’s never ever done anything wrong in their lives can fcvk off good too for all I care same can Penelope Polin and Marina haters!

you are not fooling anyone with your clear and obvious racism misogynior and fatphobia at all because if you genuinely was gonna hate on characters for being cruel or doing something manipulative nasty or just pure evil you would never eveeer hate or even think off hating on Colin and Edwina and you would be so understanding empathetic and feel for Penelope and Marina doing whatever they can in world where they are poor woman who aren’t rich spoiled privileged supported by their family nor Bridgerton girls and who the world don’t just open up for them with opportunity respect an kindness

And this is more then half the fandom all of them being the same one shade of nasty liking daphn kathony but hating Colin Edwina marina and Penelope be so fr real!

54 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

4 months ago

Atwow side of TikTok is VERY different from here. For example, they heavily loathe Spider. You cannot say a single good thing about him or defend him on there or you'll be torn to pieces in the comments by people who enjoy bullying a child, regardless of said child being fictional or not.

To those "fans" in particular: Do you honestly think what he did was bad? Sparing an unforgivable man's life? Plenty of heroes do that in media, and those are usually ADULTS.

You have to remember: Spider is not from Earth. He was born and raised on Pandora. He only knows balance, peace, and serenity. He's never once ever dealt with Reddit and the 10 Best Satisfying Revenge Stories that we have here on Earth. All he knows is Eywa and the balance of life.

From what I understand, Spider saw that Neteyam was dead and as a teenager, probably wanted this terrible night to be over. No more death. He saw Quaritch, still alive, and remembered this man protected him and saved him from literal TORTURE.

And besides that, Eywa is a protector of balance. I theorize that with Neteyam already dead, Quaritch needed to live to regain that balance. Eywa is not done yet with Quaritch, and I'm intrigued to see what she has in store for him. To be clear, I'm not defending Quaritch. I don't like Quaritch. He's unforgivable in my eyes.

But Spider? Fuck yes, I'm defending him because he is still a CHILD.

If I, someone born on Earth, were in Spider's place, I would've done A LOT worse, and it would've been intentional if I had been put through the same amount of pain and trauma he was put through. I would've been the quote below:

“A child who is not embraced by the village will burn it down to feel its warmth” - African Proverb

Spider is nothing like that. If he were born on Earth, maybe he would've been, but he was born on Pandora. He loves his friends, the Na'vi, and was very clearly distressed whenever the Na'vi, his friends, and their homes were under threat. He begged and pleaded for the Recoms to spare the Ta'unui Clan and their village once they started to kill their ilu and set fire to their homes.

If he were anything like the proverb, I wouldn't blame him for going after all the adults who wronged him. Clan leaders, Na'vi, humans, Hell, especially his foster family. Every single one of those adults failed him, and here's a link to another post that highlights that. So yeah, if he wanted to go after them, I'd probably cheer him on.

I can't fathom hating Spider and defending Neytiri all in the same breath. You're allowed to defend both because both characters went through traumatic stuff (it's not a competition), and both characters had their reasons when it came to their choices.

Another note: I better not hear that these same "fans" decided to go after Jack Champion for his portrayal of Spider or I will lose my fucking mind. It's ACTING.

137 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

1 year ago

Have this cute little idea I had for the spouses friend group

Phillip knows how to make perfume and does so using the plants he grew. He makes them when he (almost always) accidentally grows too many of his plants and sells them in his nursery as a side gig along with cologne, and pet friendly perfumes.

It started out as a bet between Michael and Phillip back when they were rooming together in university. Penelope had just become their roommate and Phillip as a welcoming gift grew her some of the roses that share her name. As always, Phillip accidentally grew too many.

"They smell really good," Penelope said as she picked up one of the roses. "Imagine it as a perfume!"

"Would they make a good perfume though?" Michael asked.

Phillip snapped his head towards Michael. "Watch yourself Stirling, those are fighting words talking about my babies!"

Penelope was taken aback; she had never seen Phillip that fired up. Michael grinned; he loved getting his friend this riled up.

"Oh, wanna bet?" Michael asked. "If you can make a perfume, a good one, out of your left-over plants than I will behave for a month."

Phillip raised an eyebrow. "A whole month? Even when you get bored?"

Michael nodded. Penelope's jaw dropped. One thing she quickly learned with living with these two is that getting Michael to behave when he's bored often required the wrath of his mother, and even then his head of the family cousin would often just give Michael a slap on the wrist, or Michael will sweet talk his way out of it. Now don't get her wrong Michael doesn't blow off responsibility when he needs to do it but there has been more than one rule made because of him.

It was a deal too sweet for Phillip not to take and the pride of his plants were on the line.

Phillip shook Michael's hand. "Deal."

After doing the research the boys agreed to giving Phillip six months to extract the oils from the plants, mix them together, and let the perfume age in an airtight bottle before trying it. Based on their living space and what materials he could get Phillip decided to use the enfleurage methods to extract the oils. On a sheet of glass he laid down a thin heated layer of coconut oil with a small amount of beeswax. Letting it cool Phillip proceeded to place the petals of the roses in it before setting it between a wood frame. He would then change out the petals once or twice a day until he got the desired fragrance.

Determined to win this bet Phillip even paid one of the art students to design a decorative bottle for him to put the perfume in. The glass was the same shade of creamy pink as the flower with small wires and jewels wrapped around it to form a butterfly.

"Done," Phillip said as set down the bottle in front of his friends.

Penelope picked up the bottle and sprayed a little on her wrist. "Oh, this smells delicious!'

Michael takes Penelope's wrist and sniffs. "Damn, now I have to behave for a month!"

69 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

1 year ago

So I know I haven't said much about the twins in the spouses friend group universe but that's mainly because I'm still on the fence whether or not I want them to be biologically Phillip's where he's coparenting with Marina or go down the show route where they are biologically George's and Phillip ends up taking them in. Or even just having Phillip be the fun uncle.

But like I'm imagining cute scenes where the friend group take the twins on little adventures with them. Like they used to get up to some shit before the twins were born and then after Phillip would strap them babies in a stretchy wrap and take them with him as his friends dragged all three out the door.

And Phillip trusts his kids with any of friends. They're all responsible and would not let anything happen to them. Uncle Michael shows them how to make cool (non alcoholic) drinks, Aunt Penelope tells the best stories, Uncle Simon gives the best presents. Aunt Sophie and Uncle Gareth gives them cool (completely temporary and child safe) tattoos, and lets them color in their tattoos. Aunt Kate and Aunt Lucy lets them see all kinds of animals at Kate's clinic, plus Newton can tire them out and they can tire out Newton.

I'm not sure. What do you guys think?

37 notes View Post

randomfandowthough

4 months ago

im laughing so hard because no matter what song you listen to

spiderman dances to the beat

no matter what song ive been testing it and lauing my ass off for an hour

2,073K notes View Post

randomfandowthough

1 year ago

Imagine: Peter (your boyfriend) part 3

Peter doesn’t reconize you, but the two of you went to high school together and he broke your heart, now it’s your turn to break his...

At first you didn’t have a plan. You wanted to test him, see how he would react...

Recently he would come to your work place and wait either at a table, watching you work...

Or outside hiding in a dark alley with his hoodie on. He thought he was being sneaky but you knew he was there...

The first thing you did was ignore him in public. He would raise his hand wave and you would walk past him or simply not aknowledge him

When he was at the dinner you woukd ask TK to take care of his order. You could see how much it pissed him off...

This little game kept on going until he snaped (a little) and grabed your arm when you were passing by

His eyes litteraly begged for your attention, his cheeks lightly pink,

you didn’t know if the tears that were creeping in the corner of his eyes were of anger, sadness or desperation...

But you allowed him a conversation, after all ignoring him was starting to get boring...

You exchange phone numbers and at some point, maybe in he let something slip in his text or you just noticed the weird van who was always parked in front of your window...

You noticed he was REALLY stalking you... in a weird way it made things more exiting for you

You had to find ways to make him pay without him noticing and he was ALWAYS looking at you...

Him... looking at you... you

A part of you hated the fact that it took him years for him to look at you. If he had noticed you back in high school you...

Well it’s not what happen, he didn’t notice you, in fact he despised you and he broke your heart... never forget that

The two of you would start to text each other, you allowed yourself to be more flity with him just to tease him a bit.

Then in person you would act all innocent and clueless

When you knew he was watching you at your appartment you would put some kind of show for him,

wearing lighter clothes, staying at your windows more often...anything to drive him crazy

Sometime when you were especially bored you would plan a date night with one of your friends and made sure he was watching

One time you "accidently" called him and let him hear as you flirted with them

A part of you knew it was a dangerous game. He was stalking you after all. This guy was clearly unstable...

But the grunts of frustration he would make when you talk to him about how much you loved your friends...

The desperation in his eyes when you were flirting with someone else in front of him...

His eyes...

On you...

To make sure he didn't do anything too violent you would spend a specific amount of time with him each time you emotionally tortured him

A five minutes conversation each time you flirted with a custoner at work in front of him...

A "date" each time you would have date night with your friends...

Just enough to keep him hooked.

You thought everything was under control... but underestimated how much he loved you.

You were going back home after one of your "date" with TK. Maybe it was mean to your friend, knowing he had a little crush on you but you were clear that you saw him as a friend and that all the flirting was purely platonic. You forgot to mention that it also was to drive your stalker crazy. Like before you manage to "accidently" call him and let him hear you spend time with TK. He was probably watching you... you, just you, only you~

You'll be lying if you said you didn't enjoy his attention. Deep down you wished things were different, that you could love him fully... but...

You pretended to noticed that you had called him and and cealled him back.

"Hi Peter. I accidently called you again, haha. How you doing?" You only heard heavy breathing as a responce. "Peter? Are you... are you there?" You asked. You heard a low chuckle before he hang up The next thing you heard was footsteps of someone running toward you. Before you knew it a cloth was covering yoir mouth and your vision slowly started to fade.

"Goodnight darling~"