You are my destiny.
PAIRINGS: dark!lovesick dick grayson x gn!reader | WC: 7.5K
SUMMARY: dick and you were perfect until you weren’t. he loved you with every fiber of his being, but that didn’t quite change the massive difference in your lifestyles and goals. hard comes hard and you both grow apart, while you get over it, dick doesn’t - and during this, he comes across a thing he’s long forgotten existed; the one-wish willow.
WARNINGS: angst, emotional abuse, lowk only semi-canon, mindwish / mind manipulation?? , unhealthy relationship, love sickness, non-con, mentions of sexual intimacy.
A/N: i saw the obsession movie and then i saw @envy-of-the-apple post (also all credits to you and thank you for giving me the idea)!! and just had to write this for dick grayson while writing scream pt3 on the other hand lol. it will get updated but i just need to stimulate my brain for my other ideas. also, scream will update soon!! i just finished my period, was brainrotted with this and had to also manage my nurse internship so i was kinda busy..
everyone in blüdhaven knew dick grayson.
either as the charismatic, eldest son ‘richard ‘dick’ wayne’ (although more commonly referred to as his old name which is richard ‘dick’ grayson) of playboy bruce wayne, or the heroic, good hearted vigilante of blüdhaven - nightwing - and the first robin to stand beside batman.
either way, he was the absolute dream man. he had the kind of perfect looks and easy charm that made people stop and stare in the street. he was the golden boy who volunteered and helped seniors cross the street safely - smiled at everyone, and made every single person feel like they were the only one in the room. people had either wanted him or wanted to be him. he could have had anyone he wanted in the entire city, but then he walked into the wayne enterprises building that was located downtown in blüdhaven.
you were working the front desk in the main lobby, fingers flying across a keyboard, completely ignoring the corporate crowd that had formed. dick came in for a meeting, but he froze the second he saw you. he walked straight up to your desk, leaning his forearms on the smooth marble counter with that famous, easy charm.
"hey," he said, his voice smooth and warm. "i think i'm totally lost. can you help me find where i'm supposed to go?"
he totally wasn’t lost - he knew the building like he knew the very own back of his hand, it was just an excuse to go ahead and talk to you if anything.
you were beautiful at first sight, yes, but something like that would have never been enough to make dick as enamored with you as he got.
you didn't even look up at first. you just pointed toward the elevators without breaking your rhythm. "floor forty-two, executive suites. there is a sign right next to the button for extra help.”
dick blinked, totally caught off guard how focused you seemed to be on your work.
usually, people turned to jelly when he smiled at them, but you didn't even blink. corny as it may be… it felt nice for a change. it was different.
he let out a short, genuine laugh that made you finally look up. when your eyes met, his smile changed from his usual public charm to something much softer, much more real. he stayed at your desk for another five minutes, completely ignoring his watch, just trying to make you laugh. he asked about your day, made a stupid joke and watched the way your lips twitched into a small smile. by the time he finally walked toward the elevators, he was interested in you.
after that, he would come to you every few times he stopped by wayne enterprises and before he knew it, he made it his mission to see you. he started dropping by the lobby every single day at the exact same time. he pursued you gently but completely. he brought you coffee from the good place down the street and wild flowers that he picked himself because, lets be for real, the store ones are either too much or look too fake.
he even listened to your loud laughs and your quiet dreams about leaving blüdhaven to start over somewhere better.
and he didn't- doesn’t mean it in that corny way some people do. you were a shade of something beautiful. a spark of rebellion interlaced with magic. just your existence gives him even more hope that goodness still exists. you were addictive. right from your smile down to your laugh, something about you kept pulling him closer. making him want to do things he long gave up on or thought that as a vigilante he wouldn’t have a chance with.
before he knew it, he was in love with you.
he knew that much was true. love was the swelling, hopeful feeling in his chest every time he saw you.
love was the way he could forget about everything when you were with him. love was the catch in his breath when you looked at him in your intense way. love was the gasp you could draw out of him with the simplest of touches. love was the way he could... he could be himself around you, know that he didn't need to be perfect or worry about what you were thinking, because you accepted him.
he fell so hard for how stubborn and independent you were. he really believed you were his future.
he still remembers the first time you two came together and kissed so vividly.
it was quite late at night in the middle of winter, dick had just brought you home after finishing a fancy dinner date he had picked out for you both.
it was the picture-perfect romance scene - snow surrounding you everywhere while you both stood underneath a street lamp, everything so bright you could see nothing but the other.
dick looked at you then, drawing near with his face flushing - but this time not from the cold.
“you know what?" his breath was warm against your cheek with how close he leaned in, holding your waist gently and whispering in your ear. "there are a lot of stupid things to do, but i really want to do the stupidest thing possible."
your eyes widened a bit before you smiled at him. "kiss me, then." you whispered.
"are you sure?" he murmured, his mouth curved into a teasing smile. "because once i do, i might not be able to-"
you grabbed the back of his head and yanked him down and that was his first kiss with you.
but then the late nights started ruining everything.
dick was never around when the sun went down. he missed your dinner dates entirely or showed up three hours late with some cheap excuse about a flat tire you most certainly didn’t buy.
the worst part was the injuries.
you started noticing deep cuts on his jaw and heavy purple bruises along his ribs when he came over to your apartment at dawn.
you thought he was seeing another person behind your back. you figured a guy who looked like him just couldn't stay faithful to someone who worked at the front desk of his fathers company. the constant lying made you miserable, and one night you finally stood in his entryway with tears in your eyes and told him you were done. dick panicked - which is rare because he was trained by the bat, one of his first lessons was to never panic.
his heart dropped straight into his stomach because the thought of losing you was too much to bear. he didn't want to lie anymore. he pulled off his mask right there in front of you and admitted he was nightwing.
but unfortunately, the big secret didn't fix your relationship.
it just traded one nightmare for another. you weren't angry about a fake affair anymore, but now you were completely paralyzed by fear. you spent every single night wide awake in your bed, staring up at the dark ceiling and wondering if he was bleeding out alone in some wet alleyway while wearing that damned suit - if he was going to return to you.
dick became a mess on patrol too. he rushed through dangerous fights and made sloppy mistakes because his mind was spinning, desperate to just survive and get back to your apartment.
you worked early morning shifts at the office while he ran across rooftops until dawn. you were both exhausted all the time and dick didn't have the heart to ask you to just quit and let him provide for you (although he had wanted to so badly. he knew you would say no, and he didn’t want to scare you off). the easy warmth between you just dried up completely, and you slowly started to drift apart.
and just like that, you were gone. you didn't even say goodbye, you sent him a message over text and just packed your life into brown cardboard boxes and left were planning to leave the city behind for something cleaner, something far away from the grime of blüdhaven. but for dick, he really thought that was it. he truly believed you were his end game, the one good thing he got to keep after a lifetime of jumping without a net. and now it was just over?
dick didn’t understand anything at all anymore. how could you not be here with him? he was so infinitely used to having you around that he felt completely lost and empty. without you, his soul was just gone. you used to turn his life into something so light and amazing, putting a tiny glint of happiness on absolutely everything. you were always different, always changing. sometimes you were smoky-pink and soft, sometimes you were dark and winged, and he honestly didn't know when he loved your eyes more - when they were open or when they were shut.
it was eleven p.m. - dick sat there in the dark of his empty apartment, trying with all the force of his soul to see you through the space between you both. his thoughts were begging for a heavenly visa just to fly across the state lines to where you were. his sweet excitement.
oftentimes where the nights he couldn't think about anything except how much he longed for you. he was gloomy and so, so fearful. silly thoughts swarmed around in his head, making him paranoid. he kept worrying that you would stumble as you jumped out of a subway car, or that some stranger would bump into you too hard on the street - and don’t get him started on the darker side of thoughts. he didn't know how he was going to survive the week.
his tenderness, his happiness, what words was he even supposed to think to make the ache stop? it was so strange because his whole life's work was about action and control, yet he had no idea how to deal with how he loved, how he desired you. it was such a frantic agitation, but at the same time, it was a divine peace. you made him feel like melting clouds immersed in sunshine - just mounds of pure happiness. and he was floating right there with you, inside of you, aflame and melting away. a whole lifetime with you would be like the movement of clouds, their airy, quiet falls, their lightness and smoothness, and the heavenly variety of their colors. his inexplicable love. he could not even express these floating, heavy sensations.
he stared at the blank walls, the gray misery pooling low in his gut. his limbs felt like lead. everyone around him noticed the change - tim would linger a little too long by the batcomputer, watching him with quiet, squinted eyes, and babs would let her voice go all soft and careful on the comms, but dick refused to talk about it.
he clamped his jaw shut and kept it all inside. he tried his absolute hardest to keep up that reliable nightwing attitude, playing the smiling, perfect hero who always had everything under control. it made him go even crazier. his chest ached with the effort of it because he desired nothing more than to just let it all fall apart, to drop the mask and the name and just rest between your arms again. you were everything he wanted, and now it was over?
but then… there was the warehouse.
the comms cracked with a mission to track down an illegal occult club of college kids operating out of an abandoned tenement on the docks - stealings things they believed to be magical artifacts, even when, dick could clearly see, that most of them weren’t and the kids just seemed to believe too much in fairytales.
he was supposed to be bagging the evidence for babs to catalog, but as his gloved fingers moved over the mismatched junk on the ritual altar, he froze.
among the cheap candles and stolen books was a piece of dark, twisted wood.
dick stared at it, the flurried beat of wings starting up behind his ears. he half-mindedly remembered this bark. he knew it from a long time ago, a half-forgotten ghost story from a circus trailer. he picked it up, turning it over in his hands.
how the hell did it get here?
he must have accidentally left the box behind during one of his rushed moves between blüdhaven safehouses years ago, and then from then on this occult club must have gotten their hands on it somehow for whatever reason.
the rough bark was dry beneath his leather gloves. dick stared down at the twisted wood, his thumb tracing the edge where it had once been severed from the tree - it looked so small resting on the ritual altar. so ordinary. like a stray piece of kindling left behind by kids playing at being witches.
but right next to it lay the small box and inside it the original packaging where one could still clearly read ‘one wish willow’ - while the package had been from years of neglect - the sight of it made his chest tighten.
the memory was sudden like a camera bulb going off in a pitch-black room. but dick remembers being ten years old, the air inside the circus trailer smelling of rain and the sweet, burnt scent of his mother’s vanity powder that dick so greatly misses.
his mother had sat him down on the edge of the cot, her long fingers holding that exact same packaging.
she had pulled this piece of wood out, holding it between them like it was a piece of the moon.
“this is a branch from the one-wish willow, dickie,”
her voice echoed in his head, sounding too bright, too far away.
“your father used it for me when i wanted to go back to the old country. if you find the right person and they try to leave, you use this. it ensures everything goes exactly how you want. it makes love perfect.”
back then, he had just laughed. he had kissed his mother's cheek and played it off as a fairytale, some old family myth spun from campfire stories and superstition. circus folk were full of things like that. he hadn't thought about it in twenty years.
dick looked around the dark warehouse. the college kids were groaning on the floor, the police sirens were still a distant whine over the harbor waves, and the comms in his ear were silent, waiting for his report. he was supposed to bag it - he was supposed to log it into the batcomputer as a Class-IV occult artifact and let it rot in a steel vault beneath the manor.
but… it was his. it belonged to his mother, to his father. it was a piece of the grayson name, an inheritance he had carelessly left behind in a closet during a midnight move through the blüdhaven.
and it was a piece of his childhood. he didn't know if the magic was real - he didn't know if his mother had been telling the truth or if the wood was just old, useless kindling - but as he looked at the branch, your face flashed in his mind - the way you looked when you packed your things, the total absence of him in your future. he was desperate. he was so tired of being the good guy who let things go.
what harm was there in keeping a childhood fairytale? he’d be disappointed either way, whether he keeps it or not.
with a quick, jerky motion, dick reached out and grabbed the faded blue packaging. he gently placed the twisted branch back inside its original packaging and then closed the lid over it. he didn't reach for the evidence plastic he put all the other stolen stuff in. instead, he slid the box deep into the heavy lining of his tactical belt, hiding it safe against his hip.
he would keep it… just to have a piece of home back. there’s no harm in that, right?
with that, he clicked his comms back on to report the bust clear.
few days crawled by like molasses. dick spent every hour feeling like an outsider in his own skin, but he made sure to keep tabs on you. he had stayed on good terms with your friends after the breakup - playing the sweet, understanding ex-boyfriend, the reliable guy who just wanted to make sure you were okay. and it was true! he did want to make sure you were okay! he loves you. he could never wish harm upon you. it was totally harmless...
(lie. of course, it was just a way to keep his fingers on your pulse, a way to know exactly where you were. not that dick could ever admit to such a filthy impulse - the golden boy didn't have dirty hands. he didn't stalk. he just... cared. too much, maybe. but caring wasn't a crime.)
but the trap snapped shut anyway.
he was grabbing a quick coffee with one of your girls from the office, smiling his perfect public smile while his chest hollowed itself out, when she casually dropped the news.
you had handed in your notice.
you were leaving blüdhaven for good, your train ticket already booked for the end of the week. you were going to be completely gone in the next few days.
dick didn't remember the walk back to his apartment. he just found himself standing in his own living room, the cold, crushing devastation hitting his knees so hard he nearly stumbled.
he threw himself onto the couch, the gray afternoon light cutting across the floor, highlighting the empty spaces where your things used to be. his head dropped into his hands. his throat felt tight, burning with an old, childish grease.
you were leaving. you were actually leaving him behind in this rotting city, and there was nothing his hands could do to stop it.
dick grayson, the hero who saved everyone, couldn't save his own life from falling into a black hole.
how could you just give up on you both? didn’t you know you two belonged together?
resting on the glass coffee table, right next to his car keys, was the faded box. he had forgotten he left it there after the warehouse bust. the silk ribbon was still frayed, looking pathetic and small under the dust motes dancing in the air.
dick stared at it. his heart did a strange, violent flip against his ribs. he didn't… fully believe in it.
he couldn't. he was a man of science, trained by the world's greatest detective to look for logic, to dismiss fairy tales and old circus superstitions - and even though he knows they are real, he knows not everything people claim to be magical is actually so.
his mother's words were just a comfort story from a dead woman, a soft myth told to a little boy in a rainy trailer because she loved his father too much to think about the dark parts. it couldn't be real. a piece of wood couldn't fix a broken heart.
but desperation is a sickening thing… isn’t it? it strips away your sense, leaves you raw and clawing at the dirt for anything to hold onto.
dick reached out, his fingers trembling slightly as he pulled the blue box closer. he flipped the lid open and took the branch out of the one-wish willow package.
the dark, twisted branch of the one-wish willow lay snug against the lining, looking cold and dead. he took it out, is knuckles turning white as he gripped the two ends.
he didn't expect a miracle. he felt stupid, pathetic even - a grown man hiding in the dark with a piece of kindling. but the thought of your train pulling out of the station made his mind go entirely black. if it didn't work, he was no worse off than before. but if it did... if it could just make you remember how good you used to be...
with a sharp, desperate jerk of his wrists, dick snapped the branch right in half. the wood gave way with a loud, echoing crack that seemed to swallow all the air in the silent room.
“i wish she would love me,” he whispered into the empty space, his voice cracking, raw and ugly with a lifetime of loneliness. “more than anyone or anything else in the world.”
the next morning came, and surprisingly, dick didn’t think anything of the willow branch.
he woke up with the same oily misery coating the back of his throat, the crack of the wood from the night before feeling like nothing more than a pathetic, embarrassing hallucination he had in desperation. a grown man playing with sticks in the dark, how stupid is that?
he dragged himself through his morning routine, put on his civilian clothes, and prepared to spend another day pretending he wasn't hollowed out from the inside.
it wasn't a normal knock because dick wouldn’t have reacted the way he had then - it was a frantic, heavy rattling against the wood of his front door, so violent that dick’s instinct had him reaching for a hidden blade before his mind could even register who it might be. he pulled the door open, his jaw tense.
you were standing on his welcome mat, but something was immediately, deeply wrong. dick froze, his hand tightening on the edge of the doorframe.
your face was paler than usual - lost of color, your hair slightly damp from the morning mist, but it was your eyes that made his stomach drop into a cold, dark well. they were wide - wide and completely unblinking, glassy with a terrifying, frantic intensity that looked nothing like the soft, calm gaze he had spent months falling in love with. your fingers were trembling, twitching against the straps of your bag, and your chest was heaving like you had just run a marathon across the city lines just to reach his threshold.
"hey," dick started, his voice small, caught completely off guard. "what are you-"
"i woke up and my chest felt tight," you interrupted, the words spilling out of your mouth in a sharp, breathless rush. your voice climbed into a high, frantic register. "i couldn't breathe, dick. i couldn't breathe until i saw you. why didn't you call me?"
dick blinked, his hand dropping from the doorframe. "i... i thought you didn't want me to. you're leaving, remember? you bought the ticket-“
"no, no, no," you rattled out, shaking your head so hard your hair whipped across your face. you took a desperate step forward into his entryway, closing the distance between you. "you have to tell me you love me. please tell me you love me right now."
he stayed silent for a second, before narrowing his eyes. "sweetheart, of course i do," he murmured, his brain struggling to process the sudden, violent shift. he reached out to touch your shoulder, but the second his fingers brushed your skin, you went entirely rigid.
"i love you more than anyone else in the world," you gasped, your voice cracking as your hands clawed desperately at the fabric of his jacket, pulling him down toward you with a strength that felt completely unnatural. "i love you so much it hurts. i can't think about anything else. i can't do anything else. tell me you love me. say it."
you were shaking, your teeth literally chattering together as you pressed your face into his neck, sobbing out the words over and over again.
dick stood completely rigid for a split second, his arms hanging limp at his sides. his mind was screaming, because how the hell could it not? this wasn’t normal and he knows this. never in a million years would you act like this. the logical side of his brain telling him that this was sickness, that this was some weird magic overriding your entire personality.
it was a horror movie playing out on his own rug.
and yet… "i love you," dick whispered into your hair, his voice suddenly thick. "i love you so much."
"say it again," you begged against his skin, your fingers digging so deep into his back it bruised. "don't stop saying it. please don't let me go."
the selfish rot in his chest won.
he didn't care that your eyes were hollow or that your breathing was frantic, you were here. you weren't leaving. his bright, handsome golden-boy smile broke across his face, wide and blind, as his arms finally wrapped around your waist, pulling your twitching, frantic body entirely into his space and locking the door behind you.
he could enjoy this just for a bit, right? he can find a way to fix this later… you’re safer with him than you'd be with anyone else in this state.
the next few days blurred together.
dick kept telling himself that he was going to look into it - as he had said he would from the very start - that he would find a way to reverse whatever the hell had happened. he was a hero, right? he was supposed to fix things like this.
but… every single time he sat down to actually think about a solution, he found himself pushing it back. tomorrow. he’d figure it out tomorrow.
because really, how could anyone blame him? you were just so completely adorable. this was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had spent months begging the universe for while staring at his empty ceiling. you weren't going to work anymore. you had completely forgotten about the office, forgotten about your train ticket, forgotten about leaving him behind. when dick wasn't out on patrol, he had you entirely to himself. he even found himself, much to his shame (not really) acting into your behavior.
the good parts of it were like a fever dream. you acted like his spouse, like you two had been married for years and had already promised your entire lives to each other.
"look at you," you whispered one morning, your fingers smooth and warm as they fussed over the collar of his shirt, straightening the fabric with small, careful movements. you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his jaw, your eyes wide and shining. "my handsome future husband. you look so perfect today, dick. i made your favorite breakfast. we have all morning together, right? just you and me."
dick let out a soft, breathless laugh, his hands coming down to rest on your waist. "yeah, baby. just you and me. you don't have to worry about anything else anymore."
"i don't," you murmured, pressing your face into his chest, humming a sweet little song while you held onto him like he was the only solid thing left in the world. "i only worry about loving you."
you showered him with so much raw, unadulterated affection that his chest felt like it was going to burst from the sheer pressure of it.
but.. of course, then there was the bad part. the terrifying, suffocating reality of the spell.
leaving the apartment for a night patrol became a psychological war - quite literally. the second dick even leaned toward his closet to grab his gear, your entire demeanor would shatter. you threw yourself onto your knees, wrapping your arms around his ankles and digging your fingernails into the fabric of his jeans.
"no, no, please don't go," you wept, your ribs shaking with a frantic, gasping sort of panic. your eyes were huge, glassy, and completely desperate as you looked up at him from the hardwood floor. "if you go out there i won't be able to breathe, dick. please. it hurts. my chest hurts when you move away from me. what if you don't come back? what if you leave me here?"
"hey, hey, look at me," dick whispered, his heart thumping hard against his ribs as he dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around your trembling shoulders. he rocked you back and forth on the rug, pressing frantic kisses into your damp hair. "i always come back to you. i'm just going to clear the sector. i'll be back before dawn, i promise. you're my whole world, sweetheart. you know that."
"promise me," you begged, your fingers scratching at the floorboards, your face lost of its comor and streaked with hot tears. "promise you won't leave me alone. say it. say you're mine."
"i'm yours," he murmured over and over, soothing the frantic puppet he had made of you until your breathing finally slowed, until you frantically agreed to let him go. and the second he stepped through the window, he knew you were just standing by the door, waiting in the dark.
it didn't take a genius like tim or bruce or barbara to connect the dots.
dick knew exactly what had happened - it was the one-wish willow. the old circus tale wasn't a fairytale at all; it was legit, a terrifyingly real piece of ancient rot that had twisted your mind.
sitting on the edge of a rainy roof during a quiet patrol, dick thought about his parents.
‘your father used it for me.’ his whole life, he had thought his parents had this beautiful, flawless romance - but it was a lie. his father had broken her soul first.
dick shrugged the thought off into the cold wind. he didn't want to think about the ethics of it. he didn't want to analyze the horror.
in a way, he completely understood why his father did it. if his father had loved his mother even half as much as dick loved you, then of course he snapped the wood. how could you let something that precious walk away? you couldn't. you had to keep it, even if you had to break it first to make it stay.
more time passed and you had even called your friends from the office and told them you were staying in blüdhaven. you told them you were moving back in with dick, that the train ticket had been a mistake, that the dream of starting over somewhere cleaner was gone, that dick was your dream. they were happy for you, of course.
they didn't know anything.
they just thought it was a classic, messy reconciliation between two people who couldn't let go.
any lingering shred of shame dick had about the willow branch vanished completely. the golden boy didn't feel guilty anymore - he was entirely lost within his own bliss, floating in the warm bath of your forced affection.
but sometimes, in the quiet spaces between your frantic kisses, he felt himself missing you. the real you.
you still acted a bit like you did before - you used the same nicknames, you wore the same clothes - and you joked just the same. but outside of him, you did absolutely nothing. you didn't pursue your passions, you didn't read those books you used to love anymore - only barely when you weren’t giving all your attention or dick or crying about him leaving your side.
all those fierce, independent passions he had fallen so hard for were just... gone, wiped clean by the magic.
but dick told himself it was fine. if it meant you and him could be this perfectly inlove forever, he could live with the trade-off. who cared about hobbies when you had devotion?
"look what i bought you," dick said one afternoon, setting a new box of expensive watercolors on the kitchen table, desperately trying to spark something behind your wide eyes. "i remember you saying you wanted to finish that canvas by the window."
you didn't even look at the box. your gaze stayed glued to his jaw, a tight, frantic smile stretching your cheeks. "i don't need to paint, dickie. i just want to sit here and watch you. can i hold your hand? please let me hold your hand while you read the reports."
"yeah," dick murmured, a tiny, hollow ache opening up in his stomach before he squeezed it shut. "yeah, baby. of course."
but the magic wasn't seamless.
glimpses of the real you, or thats what he thinks it is, trapped and rotting underneath the spell, started poking through the cracks.
it happened first at night.
dick finished a brutal patrol, shedding his tactical gear in the living room before sliding into the dark bedroom. he expected to find you asleep, curled up on your side of the mattress waiting for his warmth.
instead, he heard it. a wet guttural sound.
he flipped his small penlight on, the beam cutting through the shadows, and froze. you weren't in bed. you were shoved into the far corner of the room, sitting flat on the hardwood floor with your knees pulled tightly against your chest. you were hysterically crying, but it wasn't the loud, dramatic weeping from the daytime. it was silent, your shoulders heaving violently, your breath hitching in dry, miserable gasps.
in the unnatural glare of the flashlight, you looked incredibly creepy. the shadows under your eyes were so deep they looked like bruises, your skin pale and drawn, looking old and withered under the intense, suffocating pressure of the spell.
"sweetheart?" dick whispered, his footsteps resounding softly against the floor as he approached the corner. "what are you doing down there? come on, get into bed."
you didn't move. you slowly lifted your head, your wide, unblinking eyes locking onto his face. the expression there wasn't the hollow adoration he was used to. it was pure, unadulterated terror. your lips twitched, stretching into a grotesque, forced smile that didn't reach your weeping eyes.
"i'm so happy," you whispered, your voice hoarse, sounding like it was being dragged through gravel. the words were frantic, but the tone was dead. "i love you so much, dick. i'm so happy. please don't let me leave. i love you. i love you. i love you."
a cold chill ran down dick's spine, the sheer creepiness of the sight fazing him for only a split second…
choosing not to give this further thought, he turned off the penlight, letting the comforting darkness swallow the sight of your haggard, weeping face.
he walked over to the mattress, peeling back the blankets and laying himself down.
"come to bed," dick called out into the quiet room, his voice steady, coddling, and completely unbothered. "join me on my side, my love. it's cold out there."
there was a frantic scramble in the dark - the sound of your limbs rushing across the floorboards like a frightened animal. within seconds, your shivering, damp body threw itself onto the mattress, your arms wrapping around his neck with that familiar, choking grip. dick closed his eyes, his large hands coming up to stroke your hair as you both drifted off to sleep, perfectly content to ignore the monster hiding in the dark.
another time was when dick decided it was time to take you out.
he wanted to show you off - he wanted to be that normal, happy couple walking down the sidewalk under the streetlights, the way he always dreamed they would be when you were drifting apart.
he took you to a nice, dimly lit restaurant downtown. dick looked incredible, wearing a black jacket that made his shoulders look broad, his hair pushed back just right. he was smiling at the hostess, pulling out your chair with that effortless grace that made everyone in the room look over like they would always do.
but across the table, the illusion was already starting to split down the middle.
you were dressed up, your fingers twining tightly together over the white tablecloth. your wide, glassy eyes never left his face - hell, you didn't look at the menu. you didn't look at the beautiful candles or the people around you. you just stared at his jaw, your breath coming in tiny, shallow hitches.
"you look so beautiful tonight, baby," dick said, his voice smooth and warm as he reached across the table to cover your hands with his large palm. he was trying so hard to keep his voice steady, to ignore the slight tremor in your skin. "isn't this nice, hm? just getting out of the apartment for a little bit."
you didn't answer. your tight, frantic smile just stretched a little wider, your unblinking eyes drinking him in like you were starving.
dick cleared his throat, his tone dropping into something casual, a subtle test to see how far the boundaries could stretch. "i was thinking... maybe after we finish up here, i should head out for patrol for a bit. and maybe you could spend the night at your friend's place? she missed you at the office, and it would be good for you to get out."
the words hadn't even fully left his mouth before your entire face went completely blank. your fingers froze against his knuckles.
"no, no, no, no," you started, your voice suddenly climbing into a high, frantic register that cut right through the quiet clinking of silverware in the dining room. you pulled your hands back, shaking your head so hard your hair whipped across your face. "don’t do this, i thought we were having a nice date."
"sweetheart, we are," dick whispered quickly, his heart doing a sudden, violent flip against his ribs. he leaned forward, trying to catch your eye, trying to project that calm, reliable hero persona. "we are having a nice date. look at me."
"no, you're trying to send me away," you gasped out, your voice getting louder, making a couple at the next table turn around to stare. a tight, frantic smile was still stretched across your face, but tears were already spilling over your eyelids, tracking thick and hot down your cheeks. "you're telling me to go. i thought we were having a nice date, dick! why are you doing this to me? why are you making my chest feel tight?"
"i'm right here, baby, i'm not sending you anywhere," dick murmured, his thumbs trying to soothe over your knuckles, but you were shaking so hard your fork clattered against the porcelain plate.
"tell me you love me," you begged, your fingers suddenly clawing into his jacket sleeves across the table, digging your nails deep into the fabric right there in front of everyone. your chest was heaving under your nice clothes. "say it right now. say it so i can breathe. i love you so much it hurts, i love you more than anything in the world, why can't we just have a nice date?"
you were weeping now, a hysterical sound, even though your lips were still forced into that terrifying, ecstatic grin.
dick stared at you through the candlelight - an outsider would have looked at your weeping, grinning face and seen a total horror story. they would have seen a person completely losing their mind, a scene being caused in a public place.
but dick didn't care about the people staring. his mind instead twisted the terror into pure, unadulterated devotion.
you loved him so much you couldn't even handle the thought of a single night apart… your friends didn't matter. patrol didn't matter. you were entirely, perfectly his.
"you’re right," dick whispered, his expression softening into a look of absolute, unwavering focus as he watched you. the realization that you were so completely centered on him seemed to settle his own internal restlessness.
he stood up, placing enough currency on the table to cover the bill and more, his attention never wavering from yours. he reached out, firmly taking your hand to steady your trembling. "we don't need to go anywhere else. let’s just go back home. we can stay there as long as you need, and nothing will come between us."
weeks turned into months and dick now barely went on patrol anymore, leaving the city rooftops for the other vigilantes to keep safe.
he had looked into it, though. the one wish willow thing.
one night, while you were asleep with your fingers tightly locked around his wrist, his old detective habits had kicked in. he had dug through old databases, tracking down the ancient lore of the one-wish willow. it took him a while, especially doing so behind your back, but he found the answer. he found the exact sequence required to break the spell, to shatter the curse and set your mind free.
but dick knew what would happen if he did it. the second the magic lifted, the terrifying, hollow adoration would vanish. you would look at him with your real eyes, and you would remember the packing boxes, the train ticket, and the drifting apart. you would realize what he had done to your mind, and you would hate him. you would leave him behind in the dark, and this little bliss he had come to love would disappear forever. he couldn't do it. he just couldn't let you go.
it was a quiet night. after hours of shared love between you on dick on his bed - the kind where you gripped his shoulders so hard your fingernails left bloody crescents in his skin - the air in the bedroom grew completely still. you were lying on your side, the sheets tangled around your legs, your body heavy and exhausted.
dick was holding you tight against his chest, his large hand smoothing down the bare skin of your back, listening to the hum of your breathing.
but then, your eyes didn't snap open with that bright, frantic daytime stare. they stayed closed, but your lips began to move. your voice came out meek, quiet, and rough - not at all like how you usually were.
"dick?" your voice whispered out in the night.he peeked over to where you were on the bed, your face pale against the white pillowcase. still asleep, eyes closed.
"it’s nice you aren't freaking out anymore," he comments softly, his fingers pausing on your shoulder.
"be quiet," you urge in that strained, cracking whisper. "don’t wake the other one up."
he moves closer to the bed, pulling himself up onto his elbow so he can look down at your face. seeing you like this is so domestic. cozy, in a way.
"kill me, richard," you beg, your sleeping voice raspy and desperate, not using his nickname. "please kill me."
his eyes go slightly dark at the usage of his actual name. but then he laughs, light and coddling, brushing a stray hair away from your forehead.
"this again?" dick smiles, his tone completely unbothered. "don’t be like that, my love. look at us. look at how happy we are."
"i’m not happy," your voice is hoarse, sounding like you hadn't used it in a lifetime, like it was being dragged from the bottom of a deep, dark well. "i’m trapped in my own body, watching some demon wear my skin and-"
"we could be happy!" he interrupts, drifting closer, his warm hand caressing the side of your face, his thumb rubbing against your cheekbone. "there’s a way to undo this, y'know? you think i want an imitation? i've always wanted the real thing, baby. if you just give up and accept it, the magic blends. we could be together. just us. what do you say?"
you remain silent. the trapped soul inside you refuses to give in, remaining completely stubborn in the dark.
he clicks his tongue against his teeth. he never likes how stubborn you get sometimes.
"guess i'll have to settle for the imitation for now," dick sighs, the heavy weight of his obsession settling over him like a thick blanket. "the offer's always open, though."
craving for a little more sweetness to wash away the cold chill in his bones, he shakes your shoulder gently and calls out your name.
your eyes snap open instantly. the hollow, desperate love floods back into your face, wiping away the terror. you squeal, throwing your bare arms around his neck.
"dick!" you cry out, your voice bright and ecstatic. "you’re back. welcome home."
you kiss him fiercely, your lips desperate and warm, and dick kisses you back, completely drowning himself in the fake warmth of the spell.
after you fell back into a deep, spell-bound sleep, your breathing leveling out against his neck, dick stared down at your peaceful face in the shadows. his heart was pounding hard against his ribs.
he saw the terror he had caused - he knew your soul was trapped in a living nightmare because of his selfishness.
but as he looked at your quiet, sleeping face, his mind twisted the truth just further, just like his father’s mind had done all those years ago to his own mother. he ran a gentle hand through your hair and leaned down to kiss your forehead.
"i can't let you go," dick whispered back into the dark shadows of the bedroom, his voice cold, desperate, and final. "is it really so terrible to be mine?"
