You remembered Annalisa’s bitter expression back at the palace a few days prior. She had clearly been boiling with envy. You couldn’t exactly blame her. She’d probably been convinced that she would secure this position for herself, and to suddenly have it torn out of her grasp must have come as a shock. You also didn’t want to jump to any baseless accusations, but it seemed like a fairly reasonable guess to assume that she was probably the one who’d started spreading the rumors.

If she really is, then that only makes me respect her even less.

Xeno had described her as “filthy”, but he hadn’t really explained what he hated about her so much. You were sure he must have had his reasons, though. Especially if she was willing to resort to petty propaganda like this.

“My goodness,” your mother sighed, wiping her brow off with a handkerchief. “It’s been terribly busy. I think we’re going to have to hold off on any more visitors for a while. There’s just been far too many of them.”

“I’ve gotten quite sick of them as well,” you muttered.

“Is something the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing too serious. Based on what some of the nobles have been saying, it’s sounds like someone’s been spreading some rumors about me seeing another man.”

She went silent for a few moments, then pursed her lips in contemplation. “Well, that’s to be expected. Many families are bound to be jealous. They were probably hoping to marry their own daughter off to the Prince. Don’t let these rumors get the best of you. We know it isn’t the truth, and without any proof of the matter, you’re untouchable.”

“Yes, I agree. I suppose I’m just a little annoyed.”

“Why don’t you pay a visit to the Temple?” she suggested. “Go pray, take your mind off things. It would be good to have a priest bless your engagement.”

“Hm. Maybe I will.”

It had been a while since you’d gone down to the Temple. Besides the monarchy, which was the main governing factor of the kingdom, the Holy Temple and the High Council were also consulted when it came to making large scale decisions. Ultimately, the crown still got the final word, but a great deal of power was entrusted to these other two organizations. All nobles were required by law to be approved by the Temple before being allowed to serve under the King. You couldn’t say that you were a very religious person by nature, but every now and then, it did feel nice to have a quiet, safe space where you could focus on your thoughts.

You were escorted just outside the Temple by a handful of servants, since you were apparently a “big” deal now, but they didn’t try to overstep and follow you inside. As always, you could feel the entire atmosphere shift the second you stepped into the building. Light still filtered in through the stained glass windows, but the Temple was always softly lit, even with the smattering of candles laid out all around. Being inside here always gave you a chill. There was some sort of strange energy that filled the walls, and it brought you an inexplicable sense of peace.

There were hardly any people at this time of day. Most came in to do their prayers first thing in the morning. Regardless, you weren’t playing on staying for long. Just a few minutes sitting in silence and clearing your head would be good enough.

You made your way around the pews, headed to the frontmost-facing row. Just as you were about to sit down, one of the doors by the altar swung open and a man stepped out.

“Oh. Lady [Name]?”

It was one of the priests, Mihael Veron. He was the youngest member of the clergy, and he was beloved by the people for his gentle smile and kind mannerisms. Even as far as practicing religious men went, he was practically a saint. He was distractingly handsome too, which you berated yourself for thinking every time you laid eyes on him. He’d been working as a priest for just about three years now, and needless to say, you’d developed a bit of a crush on him.

“Hello,” you smiled back, cheeks slightly warm. “It’s very nice to see you, Father Mihael. I feel like it’s been quite a while.”

He shook his head, feigning disappointment. “My, isn’t that because you’re constantly skipping out on your weekly sermons?”

“I-I’m sorry,” you mumbled guiltily.

“Ha-ha. I’m only kidding. Religion is a highly personal thing. Everyone has their own unique connection to God. You should only come to Temple whenever you feel comfortable doing so.”

“Yes, but still… I’ll try to be better about it.”

“Don’t trouble yourself, Lady [Name]. I was hoping to see you soon, though, in order to congratulate you on your engagement.” He smiled warmly. “I’m sure you and your family must be very happy with this arrangement. Though I admit, I was a bit taken aback to hear about the announcement so last-minute.”

You fidgeted in place. “It’s, uh… a little difficult to explain. I don’t really understand it either, but it seems like the King and Queen must be really excited for their son to get married.”

“Well, of course they would be, when it’s with someone as lovely as you.”

It was getting harder and harder to ignore the burning sensation on your cheeks. His clear blue eyes were so piercing, yet calm and reassuring at the same time.

Maybe going to Temple more often wouldn’t be the worst idea.

“Lady [Name]?”

“Y-Yes?!” you squeaked, absolutely mortified by the thoughts currently running through your mind.

Mihael just let out a soft chuckle, looking more amused than anything else. “My apologies. You looked deep in thought, so you must not have heard me. I was just saying, if you’d like, you can light a candle and I’ll read a few passages aloud for you. It won’t be a full sermon, just a little something to bless your union and lead the both of you forth in good health.”  

“Oh, that would be perfect, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Here, follow me.”

He picked a fresh candle out of a basket and handed it to you, then gestured for you to light it and place it along with the other lit candles. You did so, and once you’d set it where it belonged, you slowly closed your eyes and allowed the sound of Mihael’s gentle voice to fill the room.

It was a peaceful feeling, perhaps even more so because Mihael was the one reading the passages. There was a reason he was so loved. Initially, the other clergymen had thought less of him because he was so young and inexperienced, but with time, they too had come to cherish his presence. He was the Temple’s pride and joy.

After some time, Mihael’s voice eventually came to a stop. He waited for you to open your eyes and smiled again. “How was that?”

“It was lovely,” you beamed. “Thank you. I’m not all too familiar with most of the passages, but even if I couldn’t completely make sense of all the words, it still filled me with warmth. There were some worries on my mind earlier as well, so I feel a lot better now.”

“I’m very happy to hear that. This is a safe place. If you ever feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you are always to come here.”

“Yes. Thank you so much.”

Mihael leaned forward, his hand coming to rest just atop your head. You flushed, a bit confused, but certainly didn’t complain when he started gently stroking your hair.

“I am overjoyed for you, Lady [Name]. I will pray each day that you and the Prince have a long, happy marriage.”

He was so earnest, so genuine in his enthusiasm on your behalf, that you didn’t quite have the heart to tell him how you truly felt about Xeno. You just stood there, relishing in the warmth of this gentle, selfless man.

His hand eventually dropped, and he almost looked disappointed as it did.

“I should be going now,” you said. “My servants are waiting outside for me, and there’s a lot I still have to attend to now that word’s gotten out about my engagement. You know how nobles can be.”

“Yes, of course. I wish you the best of luck with all your endeavors.”

You thanked him again, and waved back at him up until you’d reached the entrance. You then turned and pushed the door open.

If you’d waited just a second longer before turning away, you would’ve seen his smile drop.

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dick's excuse would always be "sorry, baby bird! but i promised to spar with damian today. ah, but you can watch from the sidelines!" or he would be too busy saving bludhaven to even acknowledge your presence. sure, he smiles at you with those shiny teeth of his, but despite him looking at you, he never notices you for more than a second, right after he would skidadle his way to another sibling's room, bothering them to spend more time with him, never you though. it occurs to you that he has only entered your bedroom once, and that occurrence was years ago. even then, he didn't last a minute inside there before running away once more.

family matters more than anything to dick. hell, he was enraged at the announcement of jason's death and even beat joker to a bloody pulp when he realized tim fell into his hands. he's ready to defend damian, barbara, steph, cass, and duke with his life. it's his duty and obligation as the family's eldest brother, of course. but were you considered family to him? were you considered a sibling in his eyes, or were you just the resident roommate of the mansion? you question that endlessly because everyone, family and friends, seem to be smitted with dick, but you eventually gave up trying to vye for his attention. it's fine, really, if you were just another civilian to him, because he was just another person to you too. just like in a circus, you would always be the intermission rather than the main event. and with that, you take your leave.

jason was the most forgivable to you, second to tim. he was never there, and he would've probably put effort into spending time with you if not for the fact he despises bruce and the mansion and wouldn't and couldn't last a second stepping into it. he never met you when he was robin, it was only right after his death did he discover were you taken in and that added fact alongside tim being his replacement turned him bitter with resentment. though his hatred for you receded over time, he wouldn't really be caught taking a minute with you because he always sneaks inside the mansion and crime in gotham never seems to lessen. because of that, and your unwillingness to become a vigilante to kick ass with him and the others, he wouldn't be able to fully take an hour with you.

casual talks are unavoidable, though, when at the dead of the night he would be caught sneaking in to eat some leftovers and you were conveniently awake at the same time as him. he'll recommend you some classic literature he read or 'cafes/restaurants that criminals visit the least' lists, but before it would turn into a full conversation, jason would already be wearing his signature mask again, and with a pat on your head and a "talk to you soon, can't guarantee it'll be tomorrow again though, only here for alfred's meals of course," and he'll be gone. you shouldn't have let your hopes high, you wished you didn't because, duh! he wasn't there to talk to you, specifically. you were just there to bide his time! wiping tears away from your eyes, and with a heavy heart, you book an apartment away from the wayne manor with your own atm card; hope irreversibly dead and unable to revive a sliver of faith, even if it was dipped in the lazarus pit would it never come back as the same.

tim drake is always tired. just like bruce, his days are filled with investigation, crime fighting, and worst of all; high school. that's of course that least of his worries the moment he drops out. tim was never the guy to talk much. he only does when he needs to make an impression for others, or when he needs to manipulate people for potential information. his life revolved around fighting, from when he solved the case of bruce wayne and dick grayson being batman and robin respectively, up to his current identity as red robin and occasionally robin. he'll often be found in the batcave working with babs on a case or working alone in his room.

it's no mistake that you were the most distant to him, never once knowing about his interests or even hobbies and vice versa. it was a given that at the very moment you pass a glance at him, you knew it was a 'mind your business' type of relationship with him. if you were a mere ghost to dick, then you were just a spec of dust to tim. it was unfair to assume he would never care for you, he does! only in a way where you were another person to save if you ever were endangered, but would that be enough to stalk you to the point he gains every insight about you? not really. you weren't one of his friends, like kon who he would spend weekly video game challenges with; and you probably don't exist as his sibling in his own little world filled with coffee and computers. yeah, your feelings about leaving him weren't as bitter as the caffeine he drowns in his system, but you were still hurt either way.

damian wayne, from his birth, was taught and raised to prioritize his mission as an al ghul, to be the one continuing the legacy and to shed blood on anyone who opposes. when he was given over to bruce, it took a hell lot of effort to turn a new page and become the next robin. it was, with no doubt, that despite his 'redemption', he would be a tad bit crueler to you than the others. unlike tim, who he persistently bothers, you were untalented, worthless, and a stain on the reputation of the wayne's. even jason, his father's greatest mistake, had more value than you.

maybe it was fine-tuned jealousy, maybe he was mirroring his father and dick's actions towards you with his own sick twist of violence. either way, you would rather avoid the boy, lest you face the wrath of his sword. it wouldn't be wrong if you came to hate him, actually you do, but despite your endless game of cat and mouse with you as the unwilling victim of the chase, your poor heart couldn't fathom the thought of not excusing his actions as that of a child's. you tell yourself everyday, 'just ignore it, he was raised like as to be a menace after all' but you can't deny the bitterness and the clenching of your teeth whenever you stumble upon a room and see your father and your younger brother watching a movie together. the resentment eventually builds up until you blow up and just, give up. within your final moments in the manor, you figured to leave some belongings that you collected overtime that were supposedly memorabilias that you wish to show off to your family. like his pieces of art, you could only explain your life in the family as black and white and as bleak as the streaks of charcoal that rubs against the pages.

when dick was jogging through the desolate halls of the manor, he noticed the place seemed to be more... empty of some sort. and he knows pushing that feeling into the back of his head would only result in more questions than answers. so he decides to enter the spare rooms one by one until he comes across your room (he doesn't know it was yours, though), turning the knob without knocking.

that was when his eyes seem to dilate. his nose catched a faint whiff of bleach (was the room deep-cleaned?), vision seemingly closing in on the few furniture left alongside a diary and other boxes left neatly on your bed, with other smaller trinkets left untouched on your bedside table. he didn't remember you mentioning anything about leaving, hell, he doesn't want to admit his lack of memories about you but—

wait...

didn't he promise to take you out for dinner months ago...?

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: this is one of my favorite pieces of writing i have ever done and i like it a lot so i hope whoever reads this likes it too. if you all want to read more of this, then please leave a comment or reblog because i heavily appreciate it and it motivates me further to write this type of content! the reason i have come to a long hiatus is because, as stated, the lack of interaction with content. like i said, i will still write for genshin but i am open to expanding my fandom list. (p.s. i hope you like the way i had to connect their interests or a part of their past to the reader.)

heavily inspired by @klemen-tine's work: Glass Bones and Paper Skin, @gotham-daydreams' work: Not [], and @onmyyan's work: Ain't No Sunshine.

The Hero's voice rings loud and clear over the sound system. He assures everyone not to fear, instructing everyone to evacuate the premises immediately. He says he does not want any blood shed unnecessarily. The Villain is his only target.

Really, you should run too. You should turn on your heel and never look back. You had enough money to fake your death, live under a new identity, basking in wealth and luxury for the rest of your days. You'd only be arrested as the villain's accomplice if you stayed. Really, you should run.

But… do you want to?

You groan, cursing yourself for your idiocy as you make a mad dash toward the Villain's office. You know you can get there before the Hero does.

You don't bother with formalities, stumbling into the room unceremoniously.

The Villain is lounging on his chair, swivelling it around to face you the moment you enter. His devilish grin drops, replaced with a frown. He hadn't expected it to be you. “Why are you still here?”

“You're my boss. Why wouldn't I be here?” You answer easily. The answer comes to you more naturally than you had expected it to. Smirking, you add in playfully, “Who's gonna pay me if you get arrested?”

He barks out an incredulous laugh, and you can't help but laugh along with him.

All jokes aside, the Hero would be arriving any second now. Back to business. “Sir, there isn't any time left. You have to go now.”

He doesn't look at all worried. Standing, he beckons you toward him.

“Since you're already here, you'll be my hostage.”

Multiple things happen at once. The Hero barges into the office. The Villain pulls you into his arms, pushing a dagger against your neck. You scream.

“One step closer, and they die,” the Villain threatens.

The Hero hesitates as the Villain backs away, inching toward the secret passageway. It is then you notice it is the blunt side of the blade that he holds toward your neck. Playing along, you let out a soft cry, grasping at the Villain's arms.

“Let them go.”

The Villain hums, tilting his head to the side. “And why would I do that?”

“You —”

The passageway opens then, and he slips the both of you inside. You hear the Hero shout, but the opening seals shut, leaving you trapped in the tunnel with the Villain.

There's something odd about the look in the Villain's eyes. Confrontations like these have always happened one way or another, with the Hero, well, being a hero, and the Villain being the villain. This is the first time you've directly been involved, though. All you’ve done so far is give him reports and manage his schedule, like how any regular personal assistant does.

Despite being friendly and easygoing, he's always been rather distant. One could get along with him just fine, but growing close to him is a whole other story. Not to mention, when he gets mad, he’s utterly terrifying.

Though perhaps you've never been as terrified of him as you are now. You have your back against the wall as he looms over you, hands clutching your shoulders tightly. You can feel his breath as it fans across your face, and his nails that dig into your skin. The look in his eyes is almost manic.

“You… stayed.”

You nod. Should you not have…? God, why did you have to be the only one that stayed? Perhaps you really should've run just now.

“You didn't leave.”

“I didn't,” you agree.

He lets out a shaky breath. “You stayed. You… Huh. That's new.”

You freeze up. How the hell are you supposed to react?

Minutes pass. Slowly, the Villain releases you from his grasp. He laughs softly, turning on his heel and striding down the tunnel, toward the exit. You follow him hastily, just grateful to finally be free of that weird situation.

It is only later you realise his hands had been trembling.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The Villain changes after that incident.

He had gotten off just fine. No one could prove the company's charming CEO was the villain anyway, and the Hero had his own secret identity to protect. You returned to work the very next day.

But… he keeps staring at you.

He's not even trying to hide it, giving you an innocent little grin whenever you catch him. He stares at you like a puzzle he can't quite solve. It's weirding you out.

He keeps saying odd things too. He never used to be this chatty, especially not with you. He asks about you, your hobbies, your favourite things. You wonder if he's gone insane.

“Do you need me to call a doctor?” you ask him, biting away the exasperation from your tone.

He looks up at you curiously. “No, why?”

“You're acting odd.” You point out.

“Really?” he says, chuckling. “Don't worry. I'm not sick. You've merely piqued my interest.”

Why? The question must show on your face. He only shrugs in reply, casually laying back against his seat. There's something positively feline in his smile. “You wouldn't like the answer.”

In hindsight, you really should've ran that day.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The Villain gets hurt one day.

It is after a fierce battle with the Hero. You rush from the office to the Villain's estate immediately. He had summoned you over the phone, and he hadn't sounded all that well. You've already called the private doctor over, but it seems as if you would have to administer the first aid.

You rap on the Villain's bedroom door once before entering, medical kit clutched in your hand.

It's a gruesome sight. He's collapsed at the foot of the bed, back against the mattress. There's blood everywhere. On the floor, on the sheets, on his clothes and on his skin. His outer clothing has been strewn across the floor, leaving him in a simple shirt and pants. Bruises are already forming on his body, blood oozing from multiple gashes along his chest and arms.

His eyes follow you as you enter, and he grits out your name. At least he's still lucid. That's good.

“Forgive me,” you murmur to him.

You throw his arm around your shoulder, hauling him up onto the bed. He groans. You apologise again softly.

Using a pair of scissors, you cut away his shirt to inspect the entirety of the damage. You wince. With wounds like these, you hope the Villain gave as good as he got.

Well, on the bright side, he wouldn't die. Most of the damage is surface level. Once the doctor arrives and stitches them all up, he'd be fine as long as they didn't get infected. You use a sterile piece or gauze to wipe as much blood away as you can, then disinfect everything with antiseptic.

“Sir, are you hurt anywhere else? Any fractures? Dislocation?”

He huffs. “Check my ankle.”

He's already kicked his shoes and socks off for you. It's definitely a sprain, swollen by a considerable amount. Gingerly, you crack open an ice pack and dab on his ankle.

“You don't have to be so gentle. It's not as if my foot will snap off.”

You roll your eyes. “I just don't want it to hurt more than it already does.”

The look on his face is an odd one. Dark, and intense in a way you can't quite grasp. But you don't get to hear his response, for your earpiece chimes, and through the comm. system, the security guard tells you the doctor has arrived.

“I'll bring the doctor up,” you tell him, standing.

“No.” His answer comes sharp and immediate. “Stay. You have to. The doctor can come up by himself.”

You sigh, settling back down. Fine.

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The Villain stares at you silently, eyes stormy. The expression on his face is a particularly dangerous one. He tilts his head, his question coming out whisper soft. “You're going on a date?”

The guy at the company's front desk had asked you out for lunch that morning. He's cute, and he's always been sweet, so you agreed.

“Can't I?” you ask in confusion. It was your own lunch break after all.

He seems to catch himself there, expression turning kinder. “Of course you can.”

…

“How was your date?”

You huff. “He never showed up. Hasn't even read a single one of my texts. I asked the other girl at the front desk, but she said he disappeared right before lunch.”

“What a shame. You looked excited.”

You were. You've always been busy with work, so it's not everyday you go out on a date. Damn. He had been good looking too.

Whatever. Maybe he had a family emergency or something. He isn't even back at work. Perhaps you can ask him tomorrow. Maybe —

“Let's go on a date. To make up for the one you missed.” He grins, looking entirely too chirpy. “I promise it'll be worth your time.”

What?

The Villain pouts slightly. “I would've taken you out on a date if you told me you wanted one. You can just stay here with me. You don't need any other guy.”

You let out an awkward little laugh. You've known he's grown fond of you since that day, but this was absolutely crazy. Here he is, practically offering himself up as a rebound, making those eyes at you and smiling that smile.

“It's my treat. Please?” he presses.

Well, he is cute. Cuter than that receptionist guy. Plus, wouldn't do any good to piss your boss off anyway, especially not a villain. You sigh. “Alright.”

His response is positively radiant.

…

Later, as the Villain escorts you out of the restaurant, you find out that the guy who stood you up actually died. Cause of death was a heart attack, most likely from overwork. Still… You can't help but have your doubts.

The Villain’s grip on your shoulder tightens fractionally. You glance up at him in concern, and notice he's been peeking at the texts you received.

He frowns. “Is there anything wrong?”

“It’s just… Nevermind, it's nothing.”

You don't want to think about it. You don't want to ask, nor do you want to know. You already know what kind of person the Villain is anyway.

He smiles, self satisfied and pleased. Pulling you closer to his side, his arm drops to your waist.

“Don't worry. I made sure he didn't suffer too much.”

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

The two of you start dating officially.

The Villain is sweet, and charming, a good boyfriend to boot, and you like to pretend you don't see the mania in his eyes when he looks at you.

Still, dating your boss just feels weird. It probably broke a few terms in your employment contract too. Also, what if you broke up? That would just be plain awkward.

You suggest resigning from your position as his secretary. You have enough money to live a cushy lifestyle for the rest of your days anyway. You also have the credentials to find a job anywhere else.

You promise him you won't tell a soul about his secret identity. Anyway, who would believe you?

“What?” he asks incredulously. He laughs, amused and borderline desperate. “No. You can't. Absolutely not. I refuse. You're not allowed to quit.”

He practically leaps from his chair and into you, the force of it sending the both of you stumbling onto the ground. You land mostly on top of him, his body cushioning the impact for you.

You startle slightly at his reaction. You knew he'd resist, but you didn't expect it to be this vehement about it. “I won't. Okay, I won't.”

You push yourself so you're seated upright, and he does the same. He hugs you from the back, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“You have to stay. You must.”

“I'm staying,” you tell him firmly. “... Forget I said anything.”

It's an odd angle, but you manage to make do, tangling your hand in his hair. He sighs happily, melting against you further.

“Good. You're the only one in this goddamned world I need.”