#but of course there's a better plan and letting will die is like killing a puppy it's like taking a sledgehammer to the foundation of

[laniidae-passerine]

I’m probably deeply biased because he is played by Rahul Kohli but I’m on the 4th episode of The Fall of the House of Usher and I’m finding Leo Usher significantly more sympathetic than his siblings

[bylertruther]

thinking about how lonnie only ever cared about will when he died and that was just to profit off of his death + will giving a girl he doesn't know his toy truck just because she's crying and he thinks she needs it more even if he knows joyce can't buy him another one + one of the very first things will did upon waking up in the hospital was ask if jonathan was okay + will telling them to close the gate in season two even though he's part of the hivemind and that would've killed him, too + will breaking his own heart by confessing his feelings and giving mike the painting he's spent so long on but saying that all of it came from el thus sacrificing his own wants and self to again help others + how that same selflessness and self-sacrificing nature of his is going to undoubtedly rear its head in season five again because he's at the center of it all and it all goes back to him and vecna is a creature that feeds off of n fans the flames of pain and guilt... feelin very scared n anxious in this chili's tonight over this actually 😳

[a-little-ray-of-fantasy]

An analysis on how Sir Pentious' character design represents his personality and development perfectly (beware of Hazbin Hotel spoilers)

Let's get this out of the way: Sir Pentious is a snake, an animal mostly known for generally believed negative traits such as poison, deceit and betrayal. We don't know WHY he's in Hell, maybe he was a "snake oil salesman" considering he comes from the Victorian times and he's into hyping up what he does, or maybe he was into war. Thing is, he's a Sinner whose design just scream "Evil".

(BTW, a snake could also represent "fertility": looking at you, Egg Boiz!)

He always had eyes all around him not just because of a stylistic choice.

Sir Pentious always felt like he was watched, and had to watch out for any danger.

"Everyone here is too nice: obviously it must be a lie! I can sense they are planning to kill me, but when?! HOW?! I must be PREPARED!"

Sadly, he's been constantly berated by other demons, far more effective in destruction, status, cruelty and charisma. Alastor won't ever bother to remember him, Cherri always ones up him, and the Vs, the ones he admires to most, won't care less about him.

To the point that Vox sent him as a spy without the intention to save him if things were going to fail. Heck, he even openly tells him to die while calling him a failure.

So of course he's got reasons to have trust issues, or taking everything so seriously, being constantly reminded of what he can't accomplish. So he puts an air of grandure that may be very flamboyant, but is VERY frail.

But, if we have to be frank here, his biggest source of insecurities... is himself.

He has eyes on his tail (his softer, more vulnerable side, which is ironically made even MORE lieable to getting hurt because of how sensitive those organs are), and inside his hood, so he could look out better for danger when on alert mode.

Heck, even the mark on his hood kinda resembles one eye.

Problem is, when you see his hood folded, when he's at ease, neutral or sad, those are not looking at outside sources.

They're looking at him, at his back. A constant stare that happens everytime he lets his guard down and shows how vulnerable he is. A gaze that can sense all of his weakness, his struggles, his insecurities.

And it's all him.

Pentious constantly believes that his inferiority complex will fade away once he'll accomplish something grand that will make others accept him. But he is his biggest critic, his worst enemy: HE is the one who believes he's a failure, that he'll never gain approval from others.

This show takes place in Hell, but this is Sir Pentious' personal Hell: insecurity born out of self hatred. Doomed to feel everyone's gaze upon him, including his own. Believing the danger to his self esteem is from others, when it's really from him.

But then he's accepted at the Hazbin Hotel: Charlie forgives him, he bonds with Angel, Husk and Niffty who don't care a bit about what he's accomplished or not, or what he's done in the past.

He feels more comfortable in showing his vulnerable side, and no one judges him for how easy it is for him to get emotional.

Of course he's still very insecure, considering how he struggles to confess to Cherri, but notice how he stops building machines or planning to attack others as soon as he starts bonding with the others: he doesn't have a reason to destroy or attack, now that he knows he's loved.

And his final design, when he goes to Heaven, shows how much he's changed, yet stayed the same. He may have died a hero, but he's still the same awkward snake we've come to love.

Speaking of love, let's talk about that!

No more eyes on his tail, now it's just on his chest (showing he's opened his heart), his glasses are now heart shaped, and even the markings inside his hood resemble kiss marks more than anything else.

And look: the mark on his hood is now heart shaped!

Why all these hearts? Why did all the eyes disappeared from his body? Even his eyes that were looking at his back?

Simple: love. Love defeated his insecurities and self hatred. He died for love.

He died protecting his friends, his new family, his new home.

He confessed and kissed Cherri knowing full well he wouldn't have made it, and yet he went anyway.

The usually cowardly and timid Pentious actually faced a great danger with courage and determination: he acted selflessly by putting himself in harm's way, he didn't steal (naturally) and by going against Adam he did indeed "stick it to the man"!

He used his weaponry knowhow and battle experience not to conquer, but to save his loved ones.

His only thought up until his demise was: "I'll go down protecting them".

And he's been rewarded not only by becoming an angel, but also being spawned directly in front of Emily and Sera, two Seraphim, the highest rank for an angel to have, who have also been depicted as snakes of fire throughout history! Sir Pentious, the lowly demon considered a failure by everyone, actually has been noticed by the Seraphim! He's come so far!

He's now come to represent the REAL symbolism of a snake: the duality of death and rebirth, transformation and immortality (ironically a reference to the fact he's been around since 1888 without ever dying from any Extermination or blessed weapons).

And isn't so poetic that a snake, the "source of the original evil", was the first sinner to ascend to Heaven? Or that this episode was released on February 1st, or National Serpent Day?

And of course, as the Bible itself says:

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends."

(John 15:13)

And knowing him, I'm confident in saying he'll keep helping his friends even in his new position, like the soft hearted noodle he's always been, but was to afraid to show it up until now.

[sunderwight]

SV AU where, while Luo Binghe is supposed to be in the Abyss, Shen Qingqiu comes across a hellhound puppy.

Now, there is an arc in PIDW where Luo Binghe became a hellhound. But it happened like at least a century out from where they are in the timeline, after Binghe had come into his full demonic power, and involved him turning into a slavering beast that eventually become a slavering man-beast (werewolf, basically) who could only be cured by having a lot of very questionable sex with his wives. Shen Yuan wrote a rant about how yet another potentially interesting transformation arc was instead reduced to porn tropes, but it was one of several dozen such rants across many similar story arcs. Airplane barely even remembers writing it because he was having a pretty shit week and just wanted to get the chapters out.

So it doesn't really occur to either him or Shang Qinghua that finding a hellhound puppy might be suspicious. Unexpected, sure, but demons are turning up all over the place all the time, really. And it's years before Luo Binghe is even supposed to be out of the Abyss, like a century before his hellhound transformation story, and when Binghe did turn into a hellhound his two forms consisted of a fully-grown beast and a fully-grown man-beast. Not a puppy.

Of course: that hellhound puppy is definitely Luo Binghe.

He unwittingly triggered this subplot early, and because he's still a young adult, he gets stuck in a juvenile puppy form because hellhounds don't reach fully maturity until they're like fifty.

Anyway, this creates something of a pickle for Luo Binghe, because he's legitimately stuck in this form and can't figure out how to change back. This is not part of his plans. He's fleeing from Huan Hua Palace cultivators who are trying to kill him, which they might succeed at because his Heavenly Demon powers don't seem to be working.

He runs right into Shizun, who is on one of his "investigate stuff to forget the depression" field trips with Liu Qingge.

Luo Binghe is fully expecting his righteous Shizun to kill the demonic beast, and has a moment to think that at least that's better than being killed by Huan Hua, before Shizun rescues him instead.

Shen Qingqiu, meanwhile, is actually kind of excited. There was a lot of lore in PIDW about how hellhounds can actually make loyal companions if they're trained up from young enough of an age, but finding hellhound puppies would be difficult for anyone who wasn't a demonic nobleman, and most of the "trained" hellhounds just disappeared into the harem as gifts to various demon wives and were never seen or heard from again. No additional information, like the full extent of their abilities or what kind of companions they made beyond "loyal" or anything! A species of demon that could even potentially be domesticated by humans, and it was just left at that?!

Needless to say, Shen Qingqiu's not letting Huan Hua Palace kill this one. This is a rare chance for him to get a cool monster companion!

Although... such a creature might die when Luo Binghe comes to take his revenge.

Well, he'll deal with that when he has a chance. Maybe Shang Qinghua can take it to Mobei Jun or Shen Qingqiu can find another place for it before then. In the meanwhile, at least going back to Qing Jing Peak with him is better than being killed on the spot. He talks Liu Qingge into going along with it (Liu Qingge thinks he's insane but also folds like wet tissue paper), under stipulation that the hellhound's demonic energies are sealed and it gets muzzled before they bring it back with them.

Shen Qingqiu rides with it in a carriage, and feels so bad for the poor doggo looking miserable without his demon powers or even his mouth free that he secretly takes the muzzle back off while Liu Qingge isn't looking.

Luo Binghe is overwhelmed with the mixed sentiments of confusion (doesn't his shizun hate demons? is a Heavenly Demon really so especially repulsive to him?), happiness (he's going home! Shizun found him and is taking him home!), worry (Shizun please do not un-muzzle random demonic beasts just because they look sad!), and some rather embarrassing personal revelations about the appeal of being Shizun's pet. The latter situation worsens exponentially after the first time he gets good boy'd and petted for the first time.

Regardless, Shen Qingqiu does take him back to Qing Jing Peak and settles in to train and observe his new puppy. No one thinks this is precisely a good project but it is a project, and is not for instance "staring blankly into the distance while kneeling in front of a sword mound", so on balance everyone decides they'll just keep an eye on things and make sure the hellhound doesn't maul the peak lord. Lots of "just dropping in for a visits" by a rotating cast of peak lords (they have a schedule).

But the hellhound puppy is a fabulous pet! Actually, Shen Qingqiu thinks it's really remarkable how smart and readily tamed he is? Barely a few days in and he's obediently following Shizun's commands, except for "stay", which he seems to struggle with. He doesn't maul or threaten any of the disciples, only growls at Shang Qinghua sometimes and makes a few aggressive displays at Liu Qingge. The former case is just good taste, and as to the latter, well, clearly the hellhound is sensitive and intelligent, and has a more-than-rudamentary understanding of words spoken to him. He probably remembers that Liu Qingge wanted to kill him when they first met. Shen Qingqiu takes his time soothing his puppy and assuring him that he won't come to any harm, he's perfectly safe on Qing Jing Peak with Shen Qingqiu.

At least, for now.

Although actually, the more Shen Qingqiu thinks about it, the more convinced he becomes that Hellhound (sue him, he's not the best with names) would be a perfect companion for Luo Binghe once he gets out of the Abyss. The only difficulty would be in how to convince Binghe to accept him, and also how to keep his now-loyal hound from trying to defend his master when justice comes due. Shen Qingqiu figures he'll cross that bridge when he comes to it, and in the meanwhile takes some time to explain to Hellhound about his disciple, Luo Binghe, who is enduring a terrible trial in the Abyss, but who will return one day having become Emperor of the Demon Realms and could probably use a steadfast and intelligent companion who is interested in more than just his incredible amounts of power or irresistible good looks.

Luo Binghe Himself: ?!?!?!

[lanadelnegan]

Ghost - Part 3

Negan x Glenn'sSister!Reader

Part 2 here // Part 4 here

Warnings: 18+, negan masturbating, negan being all sweet and protective

A/n: I thought this would be the last part, but it was so long I had to break it up. Part 4 will be posted soon!

Negan’s POV: 

I waited all night for her but she never came. Hopping back on my bike, I drove back to the sanctuary the next morning. I spent the next few days drinking in my room and missing her. Trying to give her space was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. 

Two of my wives came to check on me, and I rudely dismissed them. And told them to kick rocks, for good. I wouldn’t even be able to get my dick up with anyone else but her. This girl has me wrapped around her goddamn finger and I don’t even know her name. 

I sat on the couch, closed my eyes and imagined her face. Our night together. How I fucked her through her little shorts. I imagined her lips between mine and the little sounds she made as she scratched my back. Fuck. 

I rubbed myself through my pants, imagining myself between her legs before I got impatient and pulled my cock out. I spit in my hand and began stroking it, focusing extra on the tip. My head pressed against the couch and I groaned, jerking my dick faster. Fuck, fuck fuuuuck. 

"Boss, we've got a problem." Fucking Simon. 

Tucking myself back in my pants, I walked over and flung the door open, clearly annoyed with an extreme case of blue balls. We walked towards the back exit quickly while Simon filled me in on the situation. 

“Rick and the rest of them are outside." Simon explained. "He said he only wants you.” 

“Of course he does.” I chuckled before walking out onto the balcony. “Well, what a nice surprise. This better be good Rick. I was right in the middle of something.”  

Her silky black hair caught my attention almost instantly and I couldn't take my eyes off her. She stood beside Rick and my heart sank for two reasons. I couldn't let her get hurt in the middle of all this. And what the hell was she doing? She couldn't seriously want this.

I leaned next to Simon's ear and whispered. “Make sure everyone knows that one is off limits." I nodded towards my girl. "If anyone harms a hair on her pretty head, it'll be the last thing they ever do."

Your POV, earlier that day: 

“We go in quick, and we don’t leave until Negan is dead. Understood?” Rick’s voice sounded far away and I realized my mind had been wandering the entire time, not able to concentrate.. Or accept Rick’s plan for Alexandria to go after the Saviors. I couldn't lose someone I...

Care about… again. 

“Y/n?” Rick asked, tilting his head at me. 

“Yes, understood.” 

The ride over took ages it seemed like. My head rested against the window of the truck while I watched the sun slowly start to disappear. I should be thrilled. This is what I’ve wanted for so long - to get revenge. 

So why did I want to save him?

“I dunno if I can do this.” Daryl’s focus remained on the road as I spoke. “I know you don’t understand it, but there’s good in him. I’ve seen it.”

Daryl scoffed. “Unbelievable.”

“I just don’t wanna see anyone else die, Daryl.” I wiped a tear from my cheek.

“Some people deserve it.”

“And we don’t? Think about all the ones we’ve killed.”

“Not the same.” Daryl mumbled. 

“But it is. That’s the world we live in now. We do what we have to to survive. We’re all… psycho murderers, really.”  

“Listen to yourself. What do you think Glenn would think about you defending the man who killed him?” 

I sat quietly for a few moments, focusing my attention back on the clouds. “I think he’d be proud of me.” The gravel suddenly rumbling beneath the truck let us know we were getting close to the sanctuary and Daryl pulled over, parking near the others. 

“You’re either with us, or ya aint. But you need to hurry and decide.” Daryl warned before he quietly exited the truck and met up with the others ahead. 

I owe them for everything they’ve done for me. Everything they did for Glenn. I closed my eyes before hopping out of the car and quickly caught up with the rest of the group. Daryl gave me a nod and the rest of the tread was quiet. I tried focusing my mind on anything but Negan, disassociating to the best of my ability - a skill I’ve perfected over the past few months. 

“Negan needs to surrender. This has to happen now. This is the only way.” Rick’s voice rang through my ears as I stood near him, shielding myself with the metal that stood between us and the Saviors. Peeking out, I watched Negan appear behind the railing, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips.

“You’re gonna make me count?!" Rick shouted. "Okay, okay. I’m counting. 10….”

Negan eyes traveled to mine and his gaze softened. I stared at him, silently begging him to surrender while Rick counted. He studied me as if he wondered if I wanted this. 

Of course not. Surrender, goddammit. 

I watched him lean over and whisper something to Simon while his eyes were still on me. Simon nodded and took out his radio, signaling something to the others that I couldn't hear. 

The sound of Rick's gun cocking distracted me, and without thinking, I jumped in front of him, pulling the gun with with me. A bullet went straight through my foot, but I barely felt it.

I heard Negan cursing in the background amongst all the other chaos transpiring. Walkers were filing in now and everyone eventually scattered. I limped as quickly as I could, trying to escape before my feet lifted off the ground. I quickly realized it was Negan and he rushed us to an empty trailer nearby, shutting the door behind him when we made it inside.

“Oww.” I groaned, limping over to the wall and sliding down it. I pulled off my bloody sock and shoe and cringed at the bullet hole in my foot. The pain was starting to set in now.

“Shit.” Negan grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet above and kneeled down, wrapping my foot. “The hell were you thinkin' darlin'?.”

He looked up at me, slightly grinning and I rolled my eyes. He finished wrapping it up, kissed my forehead, and sat next to me on the floor, leaning his back against the wall. His hand rested on my thigh protectively and I wanted to reach for it and hold his hand but I couldn’t. We both sat in silence for a few moments before he finally spoke.  

“You never came. I waited on you all night.” 

My heart ached at the thought of him there alone. “I told you, Negan. I don’t want to see you anymore.” 

“Yet.. you just took a bullet for me.” I could hear the cocky smile through his voice. 

“Why did you want to meet?” I asked.

“I guess I thought maybe if we went back to our place, you’d see me differently. The way you did that night, and I’d actually have a chance to win you over.”

When I looked over at him, I saw the man he was that night. Before I knew his name and all the horrible things he had done. I replayed everything in my head - the steam from his shower, our deep talks about our old high school days, his wife Lucille and how her death broke his heart, and how he read to me. And then I remembered him in between my legs, but stopping before it got too far because we were both tipsy.

How could the same man who bashed someone's skull in be the same one the had enough decency not to take advantage of a woman? I wanted so desperately to believe in the man he was that night - for that to be the only version of him. 

“Listen baby, I don’t want to hurt you anymore than I already have." His voice was lower than usual when he spoke. "I get that you don’t wanna see me anymore and I’ve gotta learn to be okay with that. I don’t want to be a constant reminder of your brother’s death.” He leaned his head against the wall. “Fuckin' stupid of me to think this could ever work, huh?” 

With every word he spoke, my heart broke into smaller pieces. If Negan would have died today, I’d hate myself for the rest of my life for not going back to the cabin and meeting him that night. As difficult as our life would be together - for so many reasons, I can’t live without him. 

“Negan..” 

“Yeah?” His hazel eyes met mine and he looked like a sad puppy that I desperately wanted to comfort.

“I don’t think I can ever forgive you.”

He nodded, clearly hurt and I watched his eyes fill with tears before he looked down. 

I sighed, hoping I wouldn’t regret what I was about to say. “But I love you. And I want to find a way to make this work.”

His eyes darted back and forth between mine before his hand cupped my face and he kissed me all in one motion. I've missed his lips so much. His mouth was gentle, like he was scared to break me, but I wanted him to, so I pulled him closer and opened my mouth slightly. His tongue slipped in and collided with mine, making me see stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, breathing heavily and resting his forehead against mine. 

“I love you so fuckin’ much, sweetheart. I’ll never disappoint you again.”

“I know.” And I did. I believed him. Gunfire in the distance quickly snapped us back to reality but we held each other, neither of us willing to let go first.

"Negan, I've gotta go back with them."

"No. Stay with me at the sanctuary until we figure out a plan? I'll take care of you and-"

"We can't. You can't stay here, Negan. It's not safe, they'll come back for you. Rick won't stop until you're dead."

"Then I'll kill him first, doll. Simple."

"No. You're not killing anyone else - none of my people. I can't lose anyone else. The only way everyone survives this is if you surrender."

Negan scoffed. "And then what? Be a goddamn prisoner and Rick's little bitch for the rest of my life? Not gonna happen, darlin'."

I sighed. This was going to be a lot harder than I thought.

"Hey, you're not giving up on me already are you?" Negan's hand rested again my cheek as he urged me to look at him.

"No.. no, I just, I dunno what to do."

"We've got all night to figure it out, doll. We don't have many options. There's no way you're going back to Alexandria on that foot. Come on." Negan stood, holding his hand out to me and I took it. "Stay close behind me, baby."

I nodded, gripping the back of Negan's shirt as he kicked the door open, flinging a few walkers in the process. I helped as much as I could, stabbing a few with my knife as Negan worked our way through the crowd.

Luckily the sanctuary itself seemed untouched. The walkers were only outside in the yard while a couple of guards secured the entry to the sanctuary doors. They opened them quickly as Negan and I tumbled in. His hand wrapped around my waist, helping me walk with my hurt foot.

We could hear Simon and the others around the corner. Turning the corner, Negan whistled his favorite tune and I watched in awe as the rest of the saviors bowed before us.

"I bet you all thought I was dead, huh?" Negan chuckled. "Here's a little refresher on who the hell I am. I wear a leather jacket, I have -“ He paused, leaning into you. "Hell’s your name darlin’? You never told me.” You whispered your name in his ear and giggled. He turned back to the saviors, finishing his speech. "I have y/n, and my nut sack? Is made of steel. I am not dyin' until I am damn good and ready."

What a dork. My dork. I thought, looking up at him as he spoke.

"Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a honeymoon to get to. No one knocks on my door. Simon, you're in charge. Don't make me regret it."

Simon nodded and Negan lead us down the hall to a large door at the end. He held the door open for me as I walked through. A bachelor pad of the apocalypse. Exactly what I imagined. I smiled at him and he returned the gesture, flashing his white smile before he walked towards me and immediately wrapped me in his arms. My head rested against his chest and I felt his heart beat. For once, I felt safe.

Part 4 here. If you’ve read this far, thank you. 🥹💗

tag list: @loganlostitall @chaospossum @negansbabydoll66 @redqueenphoenix @n3g5nx @crustyweirdo @youngpersonaathletebear @sadgirlzluvdilfs @ilovebill-and-gustav @neganscumbucket @manipulatorpoem @im-a-goddamn-cat @raininhell @mahogany-cherry-wine @daryldixmedown @munsonslovergirl @sanctuaryforthelost @thelauraborealis @carlgrimesbbg @c3linesworld @blueheisenbergtragedy @startwinklekitty @darlingmadelinee @oceandeepthirst @jschlattsqtip @lavenderchai @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @neganswoman @n7crophiliac @cats-writing @alldevilsarehere90 @natykacenka @queermilfs @stasiaangelsinner @lupa-03 @sadgirlzluvdilfs @pamago-bb @javier-penas-wifexx420 @motelprincess444 @thatonefroggirl @myhappyplaceofstuff @darlingmadelinee @used2beee @easystreet07 @princess-23-xoxo @twdxtrevor @dilfsandmartinis @sarahhxx03 @minaxcarter @kukka-roo @rinsdesires @6kaja9 @sasiiik9174

[scoobydoodean]

would love to hear more about the “chuck was the one who brainwashed cas and kelly actually” theory, thank you :)

Okay so I'm going to sound like I'm not addressing your question at all at first but just bear with me.

One of the primary reasons that the baby brainwashing incident fascinates me is that Cas's actions are a betrayal of his and Dean's bond on a foundational level. I'm not talking about The Colt or the mixtape (though they're related).

Dean and Cas's relationship as handler and charge was shed and a real, genuine bond bloomed in 4.22, after this exchange:

DEAN Destiny? Don't give me that "holy" crap. Destiny, God's plan... It's all a bunch of lies, you poor, stupid son of a bitch! It's just a way for your bosses to keep me and keep you in line! You know what's real? People, families -- that's real. And you're gonna watch them all burn? CASTIEL What is so worth saving? I see nothing but pain here. I see inside you. I see your guilt, your anger, confusion. In paradise, all is forgiven. You'll be at peace. Even with Sam. DEAN You can take your peace... and shove it up your lily-white ass. 'Cause I'll take the pain and the guilt. I'll even take Sam as is. It's a lot better than being some Stepford bitch in paradise. 

These are the words that convince Cas to rebel. These are the words that dissolve Cas's doubts in doubt, and convince him to follow his convictions instead of act on blind faith. Shortly after this conversation, Cas flies Dean to Chuck, who tells them what they're up to isn't supposed to happen. This becomes a theme of Dean and Cas's relationship.

Together, Dean and Cas do things that aren't supposed to happen—that aren't part of God's plan. They do something Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.18. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 4.22. They do something that Chuck explicitly says isn't supposed to happen in 5.22.

Dean and Cas's relationship, at its very core, is built upon the rejection of two things: 1) Destiny and 2) Paradise—and by the end of "The Future", Cas explicitly (in the production draft) embraces destiny and paradise... and that screams Chuck.

This is what Cas says to Kelly right after the devil baby brainwashing at the very end of "The Future". The "Paradise" part doesn't make it to the final cut—just the "future" part... but the Paradise part is implied by the "future" part anyway.

What else happens in "The Future"? Kelly says the line.

It's not supposed to happen this way.

She says the line that Chuck said every time Dean and Cas defied the writing during the first apocalypse by doing something Chuck couldn't or didn't anticipate. Kelly says this after Sam and Dean catch up to Castiel—after Sam and Dean convince Cas to just talk through all of this with them and not jump to the nuclear option of murdering Kelly—to consider an alternative plan where Kelly and Jack's lives are both preserved because Jack is born a regular baby. The moment Cas begins to agree to talk, Kelly says "It's not supposed to happen this way."

Now let's talk about Kelly. Her behavior this entire episode is insane. She begins the episode despairing because giving birth to Jack will kill her. She then tries to kill herself, but Jack won't let her die—and this throws Kelly into a sort of religious fervor—convincing her that Jack is actually good and could revolutionize the world. Her belief in this is so powerful that when Sam and Dean arrive, she immediately rejects the plan they've come up with that will spare her and Jack's lives:

Sam: No, Kelly, if you go with Cass, you die. Your baby dies. Kelly: I go with you, you take away the thing that makes him special.

She sounds nuts. Like. Imagine saying you'd rather you and your baby DIE than have a "normal" baby. Your baby HAS to be a special baby or you'd rather be dead? Uh... ew—and to a point that screams supernatural brainwashing.

Of course—Kelly's actions aren't quite as irrational as they seem because right before Sam and Dean arrived, Kelly was shown something by "Jack". She got Cas to lay his palm on her belly, and "Jack" showed her a vision of the future. After she takes off with Cas in the impala, she says,

When you put your hand on my stomach, I heard him. He spoke to me. He told me that even if it seems scary, if I just went to the gate, if I just followed your plan, that you would make sure he was born.

So even as she's driving herself straight into Cas's plan to kill her and her baby, Kelly believes everything will be fine—because "Jack" showed her the future... and the thing is? She's... not wrong. "Jack" did show her the future. "Jack" showed her a tiny moment that actually does happen at the end of the episode—Cas standing between her and Dagon and saying "You stay away from her".

Why do I keep putting "Jack" in quotes here? Because Jack never displays the ability to see the future after his birth, and yet "Jack" did have this power from the womb... only? Yeah... I'm not so sure. I'm wondering if it was someone else—someone who showed Kelly what they had already written.

I'll also note in 13.01, that Jack doesn't seem to remember... any of this happening—at least not in the same way. In fact, he recalls very little leading up to his birth. The way he describes it, his sole knowledge of the world prior to his birth came from Kelly speaking to him while he was in the womb... but also... not? Because he says he was Kelly?

SAM: How do you speak English? JACK: My mother taught me. SAM: So you talked to her. JACK: I was her. JACK: My mother, she said Castiel, he would keep me safe. She said the world was a dangerous place. That's -- that's why I couldn't be a baby or a child. I... That's why I had to grow up fast. That's why I chose him to be my father. Where is he?

It's all pretty confusing, but something blinks at me here: Jack says Kelly told him Castiel would keep him safe and indicates that he chose Castiel as his father based on Kelly's assessment. However, Kelly told us Jack showed her the future which told her that Castiel would keep Jack safe back in 12.19. These are two contradictory stories. What if a third party sowed both?

Two other little bits:

First:

Kelly: Maybe – maybe everything that I've been through, everything that I still have to go through, is happening for a reason. Maybe it's part of some plan. Castiel: No, it isn't. I used to believe in a plan. I used to believe that I had some mission. But I have been through enough now to know that everyone is just winging it. 

Castiel does a 180 on this by the end of the episode and it screams Chuck Chuck Chuck Chuck.

Second:

If you go to the 12.19 production draft (graciously provided to the fandom through @/spnscripthunt) on page 45, you'll see something that never made it to screen—Cas's vision of paradise.

Only—these visions don't seem to come to fruition unlike Kelly's vision of Cas protecting her. The bits with Dean and Castiel's wings don't feel like the future anyway—they... just feel like what Cas wants most desperately at that time—to be a protector and provider who can handle everything on his own—who needs a "win". This is another theme of the episode. Cas stole The Colt in a misguided attempt to protect his family from having to be directly involved in the ruthless murder Cas had determined would be necessary. He didn't believe there was any other choice, and he wanted to spare Sam and Dean the pain of being involved in the dirty work.

Sam: Then – Then why didn't you call us? Cas, we could've helped you. Castiel: I know. I wanted to keep you out of this. I-I was trying to keep you safe. Dean: You're not our babysitter, Cas, okay? That is not your job. And when in our whole lives have we ever been safe?

This probably stings for Cas because he knows they aren't, and he wants them to be—he wants his family to be safe... all without having to discard his conscience by killing Kelly. He wants her to be safe too! The stuff he sees gives him what he wants--Sam and Dean and Kelly happy and safe—Dean thanking him—Cas once more a fully powered angel who doesn't need anybody's help.

But all of this stuff he sees? It's a lie. It's a lie because it never happens, but it's also a lie because destiny is always a lie. Paradise is always a lie. God's plan is just a way to keep them all in line... and Cas is trying to secure paradise for someone who said they'd take the pain and the guilt over someone else's vision of their paradise.

[lilacgyuvin]

out of my league — k. gyuvin

pairing: nerd!gyuvin x popular!gn!reader

synopsis: it’s valentine’s day! what better way to confess to your longtime crush (and the highschool’s most popular student) than with a letter shoved through their locker. just don’t let jiwoong find out.

wrd count: 6.3k (DAMN OKAY BITCH!!!)

warnings: highschool!au, slight hurt/lots of comfort, bully!jiwoong (srry someone had to do it), bullying, one km s joke, reader isn’t a bully, eunseok of riize sneak, jiwoong is really mean 😭 a little crack, funeral talk, not to be taken seriously this is fiction!!

a/n: yk i had to write smth with valentine’s day coming up!! i lobe gyuvin gyuvin pls be my valentine pls plsplspls

“I put a note in their locker.”

It probably wasn’t the best sentence starter, which Gyuvin realizes only after Taerae starts to choke on his strawberry soda mid-chug. Despite his eyes practically bulging out of his head paired with a boisterous gasp amidst hearing Gyuvin’s doings, Eunseok reaches a lending hand out to his suffocating friend’s back.

“You what?!” Eunseok screams in a hushed tone, despite being the only three occupants of the classroom. If Gyuvin didn’t think it was a stupid idea then, well, he certainly does now. He honestly wasn’t going to tell anyone at first; the embarrassment mixed with the fear of rejection almost made him drop the whole plan as a whole. However, binging 3 romance dramas back to back gave him the confidence he’d never thought he’d have otherwise if it weren’t for the male leads and their suave ways, which is what leads him to where he stands today: sending a confession letter to his longtime crush which also ended up being the cause of his friend’s premature death. Thanks, Choi Woong!

Taerae unfortunately survives his cough attack and uses his regained ability to breath properly to discourage Gyuvin’s efforts even more. “Jiwoong’s gonna kill you man.”

Yes, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear right now. He decides against answering with sarcasm and opts out to rolling his eyes as hard as he can at the mention of he-who-shall-not-be-named.

“He didn’t see me put it in,” He certainly didn’t, and Gyuvin knows this because he showed up an hour earlier than normal to slip the note in, partly to avoid Jiwoong and to also beat his inevitable numerous contenders. “Plus, they’re not even dating. They don’t like him.”

Eunseok and Taerae share a glance. They look back at Gyuvin. “Did they tell you that.”

Gyuvin’s starting to get tired of rolling his eyes. Of course they didn’t tell him that, they’re nowhere near close. While they’ve coexisted in the same space for the past four years, their friend groups are on complete opposite sides of the spectrum. They’re admired by everyone, in numerous clubs, and is practically known by the whole school. The only club Gyuvin’s a part of is the Epic Gamers Club™ held at Eunseok’s house every other day. And as far as being admired goes…

“Yo. Gyuvin.”

Oh fuck, it’s so over. Gyuvin is going to die. What’s-his-face is here and Gyuvin is going to die, all because he couldn’t confess to his crush like a normal person. How did Jiwoong even see him? It’s not like he handed the letter to them in plain sight, and there’s no way in hell Jiwoong showed up to school an hour early.

Well, none of that matters anymore. Jiwoong is now walking into the once peaceful confines of the classroom, his goons right behind him, and Gyuvin’s about to meet his end.

All he asks is that Y/n is at his funeral.

Despite coming into the classroom for Gyuvin, Jiwoong is kind enough to make time to mess around with his friends first. Wedging himself in between the three desks facing each other, Jiwoong snatches Taerae’s glasses off his face and tosses them to the floor, and at the same time shoves Eunseok’s tuna mayo kimbap out of his hands. So much for escaping the lunch room.

After watching his friends scramble for their discarded items, Jiwoong turns his back to them in favor of facing Gyuvin, his signature smirk plastered on his face.

Kim Jiwoong: The entire school’s boy crush and simultaneously Gyuvin’s worst nightmare. Going into high school, Gyuvin didn’t think he’d have problems with anyone, his plan was simple: make a decent amount of friends, stay in the honors program so he can get into his dream university, and best his all-time score in Super Smash Bros Ultimate. Oh, and get into his first relationship (since the girl he ‘dated’ in the second grade didn’t count, according to Taerae).

He guesses he strived too hard at the second thing though, as in their freshman year Jiwoong was left at second place in their classes overall academic ranking, and Jiwoong was never second.

Ever since then, Jiwoong has tried everything to sabotage Gyuvin’s grades, which ended in failure each time. So, he just stuck to messing with him. Now Gyuvin wouldn’t really mind if he had got reprimanded for his actions, but he gets away with it— every time. Sneaking slaps upside his head when passing him through the halls, pushing and tripping him during gym, and ‘accidentally’ spilling his drink onto his uniform (which is what initiated classroom lunches amongst him and his friends in the first place): he got away with it all, for four damn years. All because of that facade he puts up in front of everyone. With his perfect grades combined with his charm, he’s adored by students and faculty alike— all but the few who were unfortunate enough to be victims of his ridiculing, Gyuvin included.

The devil himself opens his mouth once again. “I haven’t seen you in a while, you hiding from me?” His smirk forms into a smile, yet it doesn’t reach his eyes, and it holds the same sinister tone as his previous expression did.

Gyuvin looks up at him, disdain hidden behind the neutral shield he’s learned to master in favor of avoiding a swift blow to the face (not that it ever stopped Jiwoong from landing one, anyway). “No.”

At that, Jiwoong’s smile drops, his eyebrows furrow in fake confusion and he starts to look around the empty room. “But… you’re having lunch. In an empty classroom. When there’s a perfectly good cafeteria waiting for you downstairs.” Jiwoong’s friends snicker by the door as he leans down to be eye level with Gyuvin. “Don’t you find that rude, Gyuvin? The staff make sure the cafe is cleaned spotless for scum like you to eat, and you’re eating in the classroom?”

Literally what the fuck is he even talking about. It isn’t uncommon for students to eat in the classrooms, and he knows this because Jiwoong’s literally done it before. It’s in that moment that he realizes Jiwoong just came in here to mess with him, which means he doesn’t know about the letter which means that he won’t die today. Looks like he’ll live to see another day after all!

His newfound happiness isn’t long lived, as in the span of one second, Gyuvin blinks and his food is nothing but a pile of solids and liquids on the classroom’s floor.

Jiwoong gives him a mean snare, despite the fact that all of Gyuvin’s attention is to his now germ-infested food. “And now look, you made a mess.”

Gyuvin can barely hear him and his friends laughing with the way his ears are ringing— no, practically blaring throughout his head. His bulgogi over rice is on the floor. His fucking bulgogi over rice, the last of its kind (as his mom let him have the last of the leftovers), is now nothing but a concoction of soggy meat and rice sautaed with his strawberry milk.

Usually, Gyuvin would be the bigger person and walk away; he’d shut his mouth, clean up the mess, and go about his day. But for some reason, he doesn’t feel like being the mature one today. Maybe it’s the never ending grating laughter coming from his friends, maybe it’s because he’s tired of Jiwoong pushing him around, or maybe it’s just because his mom’s bulgogi is the best bulgogi, and now he can’t have any, all because Kim Jiwoong was bored.

Without a second thought, Gyuvin rises from his chair, lifting his arms to push at the chest of an unexpecting Jiwoong, who stumbles onto the desks of Gyuvin’s friends behind him (he’ll apologize to them for that later). Jiwoong unfortunately finds his footing rather quickly, and doesn’t waste a second as he roughly grabs Gyuvin by the collar, dragging him to the nearest wall and slams him against it. “You fucking crazy? Huh?!”

Those dramas must be really getting to me, Gyuvin thinks. It becomes obvious when he doesn’t shut his mouth after Jiwoong’s question. “Fuck you, Jiwoong.”

He doesn’t even mean to spit in his face, but it happens when he speaks, and he can feel his past self crying tears of joy. He’s been wanting to do this for four years. Maybe the bulgogi sacrificed itself for this very moment. Thanks, Bulgogi. I’ll never forget you.

Jiwoong dryly laughs, lolling his head to the side like the psycho he is. “Yeah, you’ve clearly lost your mind. I’m gonna fucking kill you.”

Okay, remember when Gyuvin thought he was free from begging murdered and would live to see another day? He’s starting to think he spoke too soon.

It’s like things are moving in slow motion; Jiwoong releasing a hand on his collar in favor of making a fist angled straight at Gyuvin’s nose, his friends standing from their seats in dreadful anticipation, and the swift breeze that comes from the door being swung open.

“Leave him alone, Jiwoong.”

Ah, his guardian angel.

In less than a millisecond, Jiwoong’s vice grip on Gyuvin’s collar is released, and the fist ready to knock him out is lowered to his side. A deep sigh escapes his throat before he turns to the agitated student. “Go back downstairs, Y/n. This is nothing.”

Gyuvin almost laughs wholeheartedly at Jiwoong’s weak attempt to redirect them. As if he could get them to do anything he said.

Y/n cooks their head to the side, which in Gyuvin’s book is a telltale sign that they’re about to read the fuck out of Jiwoong. “Yeah, it was nothing, until you decided to come in here and bother them for literally no reason. Do you seriously have nothing else better to do?”

Gyuvin can feel an amused smile crawling onto his face as he watches Jiwoong scramble to find an excuse. Seeing Jiwoong try his hardest not to physically deflate in front of his friends would never get old.

And neither would his good-boy facade, apparently! Despite being caught in the act by Y/n for the millionth time, Jiwoong still attempts to save face by pulling out the puppy eyes plucked from the deepest pits of Hell, paired with the fakest apologetic look Gyuvin’s ever witnessed, and turns to be face to face with Y/n, caressing their arm in what he thinks is a comforting gesture. “Come on, don’t be like that. What, you want me to apologize?”

“Yes.”

Like he’s just heard he’s due to get castrated tomorrow morning, his hand’s cease the petting motion and Jiwoong does a double take. “You serious?” He looks into their eyes for any signs of humor behind them (which is stupid for issuing an apology, Gyuvin thinks), and when he doesn’t find any, he drops the act faster than Gyuvin can say ‘COD sucks’ and pinches the bridge of his nose, letting out the loudest groan known to man. “Oh my- fine.” Jiwoong looks to his right, locking eyes with him, “Sorry for knocking over your piece of shit lunch, Gyuvin.”

Piece of— his mom’s bulgogi?! Of course Jiwoong wouldn’t know the significance the lunch held for Gyuvin, but he wouldn’t care anyway, so Gyuvin breaks eye contact and rolls his eyes as far into his head as humanly possible.

Gyuvin, now making his way to his book bag to retrieve napkins for his late lunch on the floor, can’t see the look of disbelief on Jiwoong’s face, but he sure can hear it. “What, you’re not gonna accept my apology?”

Gyuvin doesn’t stop fetching for the tissues even when he hears Jiwoong’s footsteps approaching him, and neither does he stop when they come to a halt. “He doesn’t have to do anything,” When he finally retrieves the napkins, Y/n is at his side on the floor, grabbing the empty plastic bag on his desk. “Now if you aren’t going to help clean up, then leave.”

Jiwoong furrows his eyebrows. “You don’t need to help them, Y/n.”

“I also don’t have to meet with you at the cafe after school.”

Oh, Gyuvin knows that one hurt. Everyone knows Jiwoong’s been dying to ask Y/n out for a while now (mostly because he’d never shut up about it), and boy was Gyuvin right. He stumbles over his words as he raises his arms before dropping them. “Come on, Y/n. It’s Valentine’s Day.”

Despite the obvious hurt in his voice, they don’t even spare him a glance, focusing on the mess in front of them. “..So? We’re not dating, take Minjeong or something.”

A beat of silence passes, and he thinks Jiwoong died of embarrassment until a scoff erupts from his throat. Okay, there was no way Gyuvin would miss out on seeing Jiwoong’s face after getting rejected before he could even confess, so he raises his head and fully suspects Jiwoong to be sulking or something. He was so wrong. When Gyuvin looks up, Jiwoong is staring right at him, his eyes holding nothing but disdain and revulsion. Wow, Gyuvin thinks, if this is how he reacts to them just simply helping me, what’s he gonna do when they accept (which they hopefully will) my confession? He’d rather not think about that right now actually, and he doesn’t have to any longer, as Jiwoong turns on his heels and makes his way out of the classroom, his goons behind him, but not before mumbling a parting gift for Gyuvin. “Fuckin’ freak.”

So original. Anyway, Gyuvin’s just glad he doesn’t have to deal with him for the rest of the lunch period. His friend’s are quick to his side, and he reassures them that he’s fine. “I’ll go get more napkins.” Eunseok nods and rises from the floor, and is halfway through the door before he stops when he realizes Taerae isn’t behind him.

He cranes his head to the side, and from the corner of his eye he can see Taerae still at Gyuvin’s side. Unbelievable. “Um, Taerae.” He raises his head to his friend standing, and doesn’t get the hint until Eunseok is nudging his head towards the hallway in a ‘get-the-fuck-out’ sorta way.

He looks between Gyuvin and Y/n before his whole body straightens, finally getting up from his crouching position. “Oh! Um, yeah. I’m going to get napkins too.” While Taerae walks towards his other friend, Gyuvin raises his head, and Eunseok gives him a thumbs up in support. It’s in that moment that Gyuvin decides pizza’s gonna be on him at tonight’s Epic Gamers Club™ meeting.

A beat of silence passes, only the sounds of his poor lunch being scooped up into the bag are heard, until Gyuvin musters the courage to start the conversation.

“Thanks for helping me.” He doesn’t have to stop his task to know that they’re smiling. “Of course, I’m sorry about him.” They say in a remorseful tone.

Gyuvin hates the way they apologize on Jiwoong’s behalf, but at the same time he can’t help the way their kindness makes him feel all warm and gooey inside— They're just too good for this world. “You don’t have to apologize for him. You’re not his babysitter.”

His last comment seems to make Y/n laugh. ‘Huh, I’m just funny like that, I guess’ (It’s what he’s thinking, but his friends would agree to disagree.) “It sometimes feels that way.”

Gyuvin hesitates to ask his next question; they’re not exactly close, but he’s been feeling all sorts of confident recently, so he does anyway. “Why do you hang out with him? With them?” ‘Them’ being the rest of Jiwoong’s posee who think they’re hot shit; being all types of mean to other students just because of their looks or their parents’ social statuses. Gyuvin doesn’t think he hates anything more than a snobby rich asshole, which is what induced Gyuvin’s question in the first place, because Y/n isn’t a snobby rich asshole, yet they hang out with a group of them. It’s a question he’s been dying to ask for years now, and all it took was for Jiwoong to fuck up his lunch. Gyuvin almost mentally thanks him, but he barfs in his mouth a bit just thinking about it.

A few seconds pass, and it seems like they’re trying to find an answer to the question themselves. A nervous sigh passes through their lips as they wipe at the strawberry milk staining the floor. “Well, I guess I just fell into it? The friend group, I mean. When I first transferred, I thought they were really nice. At least they treated me that way. I don’t know why.”

‘Because you’re smart and all types of talented and you’re fucking gorgeous’ and a thousand other things is what Gyuvin wants to say, but he keeps his thoughts to himself and lets them continue. “But yeah, they’d always push me to hang out with them, and I guess by the time I realized who they truly were, everyone had already established their friends groups.” At this point is where they ran out of napkins and there was still a bit of the mess left over, so the two sit across from each other, leaning on the legs of the desks behind them. Despite loving the alone time they’re getting, Gyuvin hopes Eunseok and Taerae come back with more tissue soon, or else he’d have to explain the mess to his teacher, thus taking the fall for Jiwoong once again. His sulking that came from just thinking about the possibility is interrupted when Y/n speaks again, in a more hushed tone this time. “I guess I’m just scared of being alone.”

Woah, Gyuvin’s never thought of it that way. Having no friends was a valid fear, hell, Gyuvin felt that way before he met his. He can’t imagine how it would affect Y/n. The school’s most popular student: a loner— they’d never hear the end of it.

He hates that they feel like they need to hang out with pieces of shit to avoid being lonely, when that isn’t the truth at all. As delusional as it may sound, Gyuvin is right here. Who cares if they don’t have similar interests? They can introduce each other to all their different hyper fixations and special interests. And so what if they’re from seemingly different worlds? Gyuvin would swim across all the oceans and walk over thousands of miles if it meant getting to be with Y/n. Every time they’re paired to work on an assignment together, whenever they congratulate him on yet another academic achievement, when Y/n spots him in the hallway and stops to talk to Gyuvin and only Gyuvin. It never gets old, his heart beating a million times over with how kind and effortlessly funny and drop dead gorgeous they are. Fuck, he thinks, I don’t know if I’ll be able to go on if they reject me.

Gyuvin never wants them to feel alone, he needs to let them know that such a thing can never happen. He can tell his silence goes on longer than expected with the way they start to nervously fiddle with the edges of their uniform sleeves. He says it before he can think about it for another second. “You don’t have to be alone. I-I know we’re not close, but you can talk to me.”

With the speed in which their head lifts from their fixed view on the ground, Gyuvin doesn’t know if he’s successfully swooned them or if he effectively fucked up his chances at being anything to them. He needs to save face, so he raises his hands in defense, his eyes widening in pure fear. “O-only if you want to! Like. Just in case you felt like it or whatever.” Yeah, it totally wouldn’t put me into anaphylactic shock if you were to seek me out in any way shape or form!

Gyuvin lowers his hands, leans back on the legs of the desk, and watches as Y/n’s expression transforms from one of shock, to pure adoration. Their eyes soften in a way Gyuvin’s never seen before, and if he were to look a little closer, he swears there are tears swimming at the brim of them, threatening to fall.

‘FuckifImadeY/ncryI’mgonnaenditall’ is the one thought running through Gyuvin’s head as he waits for a response. He isn’t joking either— he’s sorry to his loved ones and all that, and he supposes the Epic Gamer Club™ would have to go on an indefinite hiatus with the emotional trauma it’d leave on his friends. He wonders if his dog would be brought to his funeral?

Turns out he won’t have to plan out his funeral arrangements after all, that becomes clear when a warm smile meets their eyes, and the tears dwindle to a glassy thin layer over their eyes. “I’d love to. Thank you, Gyuvin.”

Oh Gyuvin thinks his heart just exploded, but like, in a good way. A love explosion, if you will. He doesn’t waste a beat before he’s sporting a smile of his own, sitting straighter than before. “Anytime.”

His friends aren’t back, the period isn’t over yet, and he doesn’t want to stop the conversation there. So, he talks about the thing that’s been plaguing his mind for the past week. “I saw your locker. You got a lot of letters.”

Y/n laughs bashfully at the mention of the hundreds- no, thousands of letters they received today. When they arrived at school, they opened their locker and was bombarded with a sea of pink and red cards that practically drowned them, and by the time second period rolled around, their desk was stuffed to the brim with even more advances in the form of candies and cute plushies. “Yeah, I haven’t even gotten to a single one yet! I’ll do it before school ends, though. I’m glad people like me enough to get me things.”

They’ve got to be kidding. The spring semester of freshman year was absolutely rocked by the wave that was Y/n’s arrival. Despite coming from a normal, middle class family, they were quick to rise in popularity. At first, it had just been their beauty that seemed to draw everyone in, but as soon as they were able to showcase their physical and academic skill, along with their endless heaps of kindness, they became more than just a pretty face, and the whole student body can testify to that. Unfortunately, by the 4th day into the new semester Jiwoong and his loser-ass friends had already sunk their claws into Y/n and scooped them up before any other group could. But yeah, anyone who doesn’t love Y/n is crazy and is probably most definitely going to hell.

‘I hope you read mine.’ It’s at the tip of his tongue, he’s straightening his posture to sit taller and ask them with his whole chest, and—

“More napkins!” is the opener Taerae decides to go with as he and Eunseok barge into the confines of the classroom. “Uhh sorry we took so long, we were arguing about…” he turns to Eunseok who just shrugs his shoulders before turning back to the two. “.. who the strongest avenger is.”

Gyuvin wants to roll his eyes, partly because they couldn’t have come up with a lamer excuse even if they tried, they unknowingly sabotaged his unplanned confession, and cause the strongest avenger is obviously Scarlet Witch.

He decides against it, rather locking eyes with Y/n who he finds is already staring at him, and they exchange equally bashful smiles. Gyuvin isn’t mad at his friends, not when they invade his and Y/n’s space to help clean the last of the mess, and not when they use the rest of the lunch period to bombard them with questions like, ‘have you read kimetsu no yaiba?’ and ‘where would you go if a zombie apocalypse broke out?’ (they answered with staying in Seoul, which prompted Taerae to blatantly tell them they’re going to die, which in turn earned himself a slap from Gyuvin).

He isn’t mad because he still has a chance: today, at 3:00 in room 124 after school like his letter specified. He hopes, some way, that through the piles of letters and candies and plushies and whatever the hell else, they somehow recognize Gyuvin’s from the crowd, and pick him.

It’s time.

It’s time, and Gyuvin’s got it all figured out: Although school’s ended 45 minutes ago, he knows Y/n is part of the cooking club, so he isn’t keeping them behind or anything. He used that time to run to the flower shop a few minutes away and get them their favorites along with a stuffed animal. The classroom he initiated the meeting place in was one that was barely used by students, let alone teachers, so they wouldn’t be disturbed. Oh! And it’s on the first floor, so if Jiwoong happened to find out about his advances and decided to sabotage him with his friends, then he could jump out the window without sustaining any injuries.

Gyuvin’s got it all figured out, so why’s he practically shitting bricks right now?

There are a lot of reasons really— the main one being the fear of rejection which he’s afraid he’ll never be able to live down which will lead to him maybe most certainly doing something drastic.

But it’s 2:58, two minutes before Gyuvin’s letter says for them to meet, and he has to pull himself together. He decides pacing around the room a billion times isn’t gonna do the trick, so he opts out to sitting on the teacher’s desk instead, setting the flowers and plushie behind him. He pulls out his phone and at the same time receives a text from Eunseok.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: let us know how it goes 🫡 also please don’t die today

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)>: taerae brought danganronpa and you know how he likes to voice the lines aloud. you’re nagito we need you

Along with Taerae���s ridiculous gaming antics, Gyuvin finds it amusing how Eunseok also thought about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, and it makes him laugh, somewhat calming his nerves down. It’s comforting to know that if this confession doesn’t end up going well, he’ll at least have his friends to fall back on.

“What’s so funny?”

The sudden voice echoes through the empty classroom and Gyuvin almost lauches his phone through the ceiling with the way he jumps.

His heart drops a million times over and he nearly passes out, but he doesn’t, as an angel was sent before him. The angel, if you will.

Standing by the now closed door was Y/n, the sun cascading over their skin to only amplify the seemingly everlasting glow on their face. The same tender smile that they gave Gyuvin a few hours earlier was back, and he looks down and—

They’re holding his letter.

Out of the swarm of all the pinks and reds, through the heart-shaped candies and the softest plushies, none of them are in sight but Gyuvin’s. Gyuvin’s, with the stupid Evangelion washi tape on the side preventing the envelope from falling open after he accidentally ripped it, the one with animal crossing stickers plastered every which way because Y/n mentioned the game once, the one with emoticons drawn on by Gyuvin himself in hopes of standing out in the sea of letters: it was in the grasp of Y/n’s hands, fiddling with the edges as they approach Gyuvin in what to him feels like slow motion.

He honestly feels like he could cry. Oh shit, is he crying? Gyuvin sets his phone down to raise a hand to his cheek, which is thankfully dry, but the action brings him back to reality and he realizes that he’s been staring for longer than normal, so he manages to use the little breath he has left to muster what he can.

“You came.” It’s not much, but it’s the best he can do, and way better than just staring at them in pure silence.

“Of course I did.” They say it like it’s the most obvious thing ever, which only serves to throw Gyuvin off even more.

“But- what about everyone else?” What he really wants to say is ‘why me?’ Throughout the day he’d pass by their locker, their desks, even Y/n themselves; everyone seeking them out were more than worthy candidates. Whether it were their looks, their popularity, or the fact that they were confident enough to confess straight to their face— all of them were more worthy than Gyuvin could ever be. So why were they here, at 3:00 pm in room 124 like the letter read?

They shrug, a knowing smile plastered on their face. “You said you wanted to talk?”

“Oh! Right. Yeah.” He opens his mouth, breathing in a handful of air before speaking again, “...I forgot what I was gonna say.”

It wasn’t a total lie! He was caught completely off guard, it was kinda expected to forget the speech he’s been practicing for weeks now. It doesn’t seem to phase Y/n though, for they simply shrug again, and begin to remove the letter from the envelope in their hand. “That’s okay. Maybe if we read your letter it’ll jog your memory.”

‘Dear Y/n,

I know we aren’t close, but you’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before. Please meet me in room 124 @ 3:00pm today, so that I can express my feelings in full.

— Kim Gyuvin’

It sounded like poetry when Gyuvin read it in his head, aloud in his room, and then to his mom for a second voice of opinion (she said he was better than Shakespeare, which went straight to his head). But now Gyuvin isn’t too sure how that made the final cut, he cringes a million times over when they read it out loud.

He scratches the back of his head and tries to hide his mortification as much as possible. “Sorry, I know that’s pretty vague..”

“It’s okay! You can say whatever’s on your mind, I’m all ears.”

Holy shit, this was really happening. He doesn’t know why, but he wasn’t expecting to get this far. Maybe he thought Y/n was too good for him, and he really did think about the possibility of Jiwoong finding him out, but none of that matters anymore— not when his dream come true is standing right in front of him, when they could be doing anything else right now and they decided to be with him. The fact that they’re even giving him the time of day is enough to fuel him with more confidence than those romance dramas ever could.

He stands up from the desk, and takes a deep breath. “I really like you Y/n, I have for a while now. You’re smart and funny and really pretty, and you’re always nice to me. I know we don’t like all of the same things, but that doesn’t bother me. I want to learn more about you, I want to learn everything about you. I hope you feel the same way, and if not, I understand. I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if we graduated without letting you know how I feel.” Without turning around, he reaches for the flowers and stuffed animal, trying his best to steady the nervous look creeping onto his face as he holds the items out between the two of them. “Please be my valentine! And then something more. If you wanted to.”

Gyuvin’s rant has finally come to an end, and he doesn’t realize they’re tearing up until he’s holding the items up for them to take.

Oh my God he’s seriously made Y/n cry, he’s got to end it now. It’s what he’s thinking until his personal space is being invaded by the warmth of the bone crushing hug Y/n has them in before Gyuvin can even apologize.

Despite their face being shoved into his chest, tears wetting his uniform vest, they still manage to muster a coherent response. “I’m glad you told me before graduation. Of course I’ll be your valentine.”

Wait, what? Gyuvin stiffens in their hold when he both realizes that he hadn’t returned their hug and that they said yes?! “Oh my God really? Wait. I’m sorry, I know this is what I like, wanted, but can I ask why?” their hold on Gyuvin releases a bit as he continues, “Is this just you being nice? Cause if so—”

In the span of two seconds, their warmth is gone, and Gyuvin can’t even sulk the lost feeling before he’s being punched in the arm. “Ow!”

Their tear stained face holds a look of offense, like Gyuvin just wronged their entire lineage. “You think I’m crying just to be nice?” Oh, he thinks, thats a good point. “I like you too, dummy. You’re really smart, and you never stoop to people like Jiwoong’s level whenever they bother you. Also, you get really cute when talking about your dog or those games you like.”

They actually listened to his stupid rants? How could he not blush at that? It spreads from his cheeks, all the way to the tips of his ears, and fails to go unnoticed by Y/n. “And when you blush. You’re just a big cutie.”

Oh Gyuvin’s having one of those love explosions again, but like, a million times worse. This can’t possibly be good for his health. In a poor attempt to hide his bashfulness, Gyuvin brings his hands up to cover his face, his words muffled by the makeshift shield. “Oh my God. I can’t believe this is happening.”

And apparently Gyuvin’s suffering is funny? Because now they’re laughing, coming closer and raising their own hands to grab at Gyuvin’s wrists, successfully pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be shy now! You’ve come so far.”

They’re right, he has come so far. So why cower away now? He’s quite literally got them in the palm of his hands (or vise versa, he should say), and he’ll be damned if he lets them slip away now. With their hands now holding his wrists at their sides, Gyuvin doesn’t have half the mind to think before he’s leaning in, landing a feather-light peck to their lips. ‘Oh fuck, am I doing this right?’ It isn’t until now that Gyuvin remembers he’s never actually kissed anyone before, and panic follows quickly as he pulls away, their faces still mere inches away. “I-I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m—”

Their lips are suddenly on each other again, but it’s Y/n who initiates the kiss, and it's beyond better than Gyuvin’s. It’s light and refreshing, like how Gyuvin feels whenever they’re around. Their lips are as soft as their hands in his grip, and he can feel them smiling against his as they continue. He never wants to let go of this moment.

He ends up not minding when it does end though, for when they both pull away, Y/n finally lets his wrists go in favor of holding his face in their hands, which has Gyuvin practically melting into their touch. “If you apologize one more time, I’m going to punch you again.” They smile, despite having just threatened him.

Gyuvin doesn’t mind, though. They could hit him with the force of a hundred meteors, and he’d still forgive them. So he just smiles, basking in the warmth of their hands. “So, what’d you wanna do now?”

Y/n ponders for a moment, and perks up not long after. “Wanna go grab food?”

Oh, Gyuvin could cry. Y/n came straight from the cooking club, where they make full course meals that they get to eat at the end, so there was no reason for Y/n to be hungry. Yet Gyuvin’s lunch was ruined by what’s-his-face, and there was no way he wasn’t starving by now, and they remembered that.

He doesn’t wanna ruin the mood with his crocodile tears, so he sucks up his tears as much as he can, and smiles fondly instead. “Sounds perfect.”

Gyuvin’s still in a minor state of shock when they walk out of the school's doors. The person who he’s been pining over for the past four years likes him back, and they’re going on a date. Is this a date? He doesn’t want to ask, rather basking in the sun from both the sky and the one right next to him. He’s kind of worried that Jiwoong is gonna find out, but he can’t find it in himself to care all that much when his valentine is holding his hand as they make their way to the train station.

He takes note of their warning from earlier, but he has to ask. “Are you okay? Sorry for making you cry.”

Gyuvin’s ready to take a punch, but he’s lightly shoved instead, making the both of them lose their footing a bit before walking in tandem again. “It’s okay. And yeah, you’re just really sweet.” They turn to him and smile, squeezing his hand lightly. “Okay, let’s learn more about each other starting now. What kind of ramen do you like?”

“Wanna check out the new spot downtown and find out?”

Gojo’s boy toys (◕ε◕*)

3:40 pm

You: bros.

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : bro??

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : was that a good bros or a bad bros

You: we kissed

You: we’re going out for ramen now

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : ?$/;&/??@

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : BROOOOOO

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : omg i’m crying

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : gyuvin im crying

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : he is crying gyuvin

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : we’re so happy for you bro.

You: thanks guys 😄

i’ll still be home in time to play so

just sit tight

taetae ˶^•ﻌ•^˵ : tell y/n i say sorry for saying they have zero survival instinct!!!

eunseokie <(˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶)> : AND FUCK YOU JIWOONG

a/n: in no way am i implying that doing things like reading manga or playing smash bros is weird, i just took things that’ve gotten me called a nerd 😭😭 also being a nerd isn’t bad i love my nerds 🫡 stream beautiful monster stan p1h get get get get a guitar bai

[gremlingottoosilly]

[If you need to be mean] chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Your date with a new guy isn't good for you. Konig is inclined to show you that. TW: Konig being a huge pervert, Canon-Typical violence, Dub-Con, Innocence kink, Age difference(Konig in his yearly 40, Reader in young 20)

Pairing: Konig x fem!Reader Tags: Fluff, Power Imbalance, Hurt/Comfort, Size Kink, Possessive Konig, Yandere Konig, Creepy scary stalker Konig, written mostly from Konig's perspective TW for this chapter: Drug use, Attempted date rape. Please, proceed with caution.

He can kill a person in under 10 seconds. 

Time cuts in half if he is allowed to use weapons – but it would go up to ten minutes if the victim is particularly bitchy, he has an ax to grind, and he wants to take his time with a knife to gut the person’s insides out of their body. 

All time in the world wouldn’t be enough to torture this unforgivable, terrible, disgusting son of a bitch who decided that he can just come out and take what rightfully belong to him. A man whose desires are literally printed on that stupid grin plastered on his face. He transfers it in the movement of his hand when he holds your waist too tight, when he smiles and laughs at your – adorable, funny, perfect – jokes and. 

König prides in always being the silent one, the calm, collected guy who is capable of holding his emotions inside of him until they would eventually die down and leave him without any big, terrible feelings. He uses battlefield as a way to reveal his emotions, to unveil it in a more healthy way – and sometimes he visits his therapist, explains all of the horrible stuff he sometimes wants to do to people around him, or someone from his past, and then waits for a new portion of sedatives that he won’t use because he is stronger than this, who they think he is? 

König takes pride in never talking if something isn’t right – he would simply change the situation, make it better, always the type to do stuff and not talk about doing stuff – but then he looks at the bastard who took you on something that can’t be anything but a date, and he is fuming. They aren’t supposed to kill civilians, of course, soldiers are here to protect them, to hunt for terrorists who prey upon innocent victims, just like your fragile self – but for god's sake, if he never had to restrict himself more than right now. He has to do something about it, he can’t just let his girl, his perfect future wifey to just…whore herself around to other people!

Yes, you are not yet aware of his plans, but he knows that you are faithful – just, perhaps, a bit dumb and not realizing yet who you belong to. It’s fine, he can’t just let you have agency over something that is just beyond control of your silly, fragile mind. He is fine with you being a bit too naive – he doesn’t need you to be smart or capable, or even independent, he would take care of everything as long as you are pliant and docile for him. As long as he is willing to do whatever it takes to keep you safe, of course. 

He can disassemble a body in under 5 minutes. Bones are usually the toughest part, especially if he doesn’t have a proper bone saw in his arsenal, but he can always dispose of it by using the strength of his enormously big body – he is working out for a reason, and he has done lots of unforgivable things to conceal the truth behind some of the crimes he committed in service. He isn’t proud of this, but if his skills would help him dispose of the body of this guy, he would do it in a blind of an eye. 

His size isn’t allowing him to follow you two properly – and, unfortunately, he only saw you in the end of this supposed date, walking down the street with your body already shaking from alcohol intake. This is completely unsafe, he thinks – you are so soft, so fragile right now, you shouldn’t even be walking on the street like this. You can get hurt, someone can take advantage of you, you are still wearing the dress that is too fucking short to be walking out in the street at this hour, and your makeup is adorable and nice, but he doesn’t even want to think about all that unwanted attention your wasted body can attract right now. 

If you were with him, he would call a taxi already, make sure that you are at home safely – or go with you, take you to his place and prepare some water and hangover medicine. He wouldn’t just parade you like that, allowing you to giggle drunkenly and cling on his body. He would…okay, maybe he would take your body in his hands at first, but then he would find you a nice and comfy place to sleep, so he could gently touch your hair the whole night and watch as you would sleep softly, only sometimes waking up so he could hold your hair while you are puking your insides out. 

If you were with him…but you aren’t. You’re on a date with some douchebag, smiling and clinging on his hand, allowing him to hold your waist and let his hand slip to your butt. König almost wants to laugh – he forgot how dumb civilians might be, how naive, how weak. He should feel betrayed that you, a perfect little lady of his dreams, is out with someone else – and he would be, he ought to punish you for this later, but he knows that he can’t really blame you. You are weak, docile, your pretty head has no thoughts besides sunshines and maybe rainbows – just like a normal civilian. You can’t really be blamed for not understanding yet what relationships you two have, and why you can’t break it to be with another man. 

*** You are not having fun. 

It wasn’t as clear at first, when the guy – Tomas, of course, you studied his nametag for a week at least before he finally asked you out, even though you really thought it would just be a friendly gesture. He asked you for a few drinks, said something about your colleagues also being here – a little friendly gathering with your coworkers, a nice way to relax from all the terrorist threats and that shitty manager you have. It was supposed to be a fun thing, nothing serious, and you really like that guy – maybe even in a romantic sense. He is handsome, kinda cool, your age and works with you – a recipe for nice little fling, yes? 

Then no one came and you were messaging all your colleagues who were close to you – and no one knew anything about a friendly gathering at the local pub. 

Then he proposed to pay for your drinks and you agreed – a nice way to save some money, you would repay him later, maybe in the next pub after this one, so it won’t drain both of your paychecks. 

Then the drinks started to feel too heavy. You never got drunk so fast before, only one cocktail already made your head buzz with alcohol, and you almost want to change your order to a virgin mojito, but then you would probably seem like a buzzkill. You don’t want to be a buzzkill, poor guy is sad enough that no one comes to his makeshift party. Besides, if one drink is kicking you off so hard, it can also save you money – so it really is just a win-win situation and even if his hand slights a bit too deep in your thighs, and the pub seems too sleazy and empty for a friendly date, you are already too wasted to tell. 

Then you drink, and drink, and he doesn’t seem so weird anymore – besides, you did like him a lot. Besides, he paid for your drinks and it’s really nice, he even proposed to watch over your glass while you are out to the bathroom. You would try to splash water over your face to feel a bit more sober, but that would ruin your makeup – so you just cool your hand in some cold stream while hoping that this is just a moment of weakness and you would be okay after a few minutes. 

Then you aren’t okay and you really, really don’t want to be a buzzkill, but you quietly ask him to just go home – and he is walking you to his place, so you won’t have to suffer through hangover alone. It’s really nice of him, he supports your weight and you would just call an uber, but no one wants to work so closely to the curfew, and you can’t really break it again – unless you want that creepy scary terrifying handsomely weird colonel to catch you again, but in even more guilty state. Your state of mind isn’t clear, but Tomas helps you walk and he gently rubs your waist and you don’t even listen to him, just giggle from his compliments. He asks if you want him to stay – and you laugh because you don’t really feel good, you feel out of control mostly, and your body feels too light and too heavy at the same time, but he holds your hair and asks again and you almost begin to panic but hey, there really isn’t much to panic about, he is  good guy, right, and then…

You are not sure if you want him to be this close to you, but every time you try to make a small distance between your bodies, he clings on even more, and you aren’t sure how long you can keep doing this. He is a good guy, and you don’t want to be rude, he is probably just worried about you – you are so dizzy, you can just fall any second and this will be your fault completely. He pushes you deeper in the alley and you feel nauseous – he is too much, too close, he holds you too tight and you feel like you are going to puke. Tomas holds you close and you almost panic – but you shouldn’t, it should be fine, he is just worried about you, but it feels so weird, sick, you don't want to be here suddenly. Don’t want to feel so weak in his grasp. 

— W…wait, Tom. I don’t feel so good, I…sorry, I shouldn’t be drinking so much. 

You are in front of his house – he cuts the way through the alley, basically dragging you over to the place, and you don’t like it anymore. You want to be at your home, puking in that shitty bathroom of yours – all alone, at least, drink some emergency medicine and hope that you could still go to work tomorrow. 

— Hey, are you alright? 

He is attentive and nice and you feel bad for being such a bitch about everything, you totally ruined his evening by being such a lightweight – there is something dark in his eyes, and you are scared that this is contempt of you. That he hates being around you so, so fucking much because you are nothing but a buzzkill to him. 

— I’m…sorry, I think I should just call a ride home. 

— Come on. You really think this is what’s best now? 

— I don’t feel so good, sorry, I…

—A guy deserves something for being nice, no? I paid for your drinks after all. 

You want to say that he only paid for one drink that got you drunk too fast. You want to say that this doesn't feel right, that you shouldn’t be so wasted out of one cocktail, that you feel wrong, weird, that you really, really don’t want to be with him right now. He holds you too close and you try to ge tout of his grasp, but you feel too fucking heavy. 

Something is wrong. 

Suddenly, he doesn’t seem like such a good guy as before. 

— Sorry, I don’t…I think I need to go to the hospital, I…

His grasp on wrists became bruising. You don’t want to be here anymore, you want to yell for someone to help you get the fuck out of here – but your mouth feels like its full of water and dry at the same time, you don’t want to yell because what if you are just overthinking, and he is genuinely a nice guy. What if you will only disturb people around here – his neighbors probably need to sleep already, you don’t want to be a nuisance. 

— Well, sorry I’m not that fancy army guy. 

— It’s not like this, I don’t even…

— You just love behaving like you’re too good for this place, yeah? Sorry for disturbing you with our poor vibes, princess. 

He is angry now, and you are not even sure why – you can’t even master a normal sentence when your head is spinning and your throat can’t even master a tiny breath anymore, you are barely even able to talk. 

— I…

— I’m getting really sick of waiting for your majesty to pay attention. Think I deserve something nice for my patience. 

He grabs your hands even tighter and drags you to his apartment – your body feels heavy, you don’t want to be here with him, he is talking nonsense and blaming you for someone that you don’t even know – you barely remember him by now. He is speaking, talking about something – until he isn’t. 

Then you hear something crack and this is what the curtain call for your tired, exhausted mind to shut off finally. 

*** König can kill a person in under 10 seconds – even less if he has a weapon. 

Fucking asshole who tried to force himself on you doesn’t even deserve his sadistic streak – he don’t want to waste time on killing him, precous minutes that he can spend tending to your needs. If it was under different circumstances – if your limp body weren’t lying on the ground right now, gently pushed down by his reaction when you first started to fall down – he would think about torturing this guy a bit more. 

Firstly, he would break his fingers – one by one. It’s not as effective a way of torturing someone as pulling their nails off, for example, since a person can die much easier from that kind of pain – but he would do it anyway, just so he can get the kick out of destroying the hands that were touching you. 

Secondly, he would do something with his face – maybe burn the fuck out of his filthy mouth, that dared to speak to you in such rude manner. He would pull his tongue off, slowly break each of his teeth – right until pulling them also, enjoying the sight of blood dripping from his broken lips. you would be terrified probably – so he won’t make you watch it, would just ask you nicely to sit somewhere and smile until he is doing all the dirty work. He would love doing this for you – and you could just lick the blood from his hands later. 

Guy would probably be unconscious by this point – a good way to toss him like a piece of garbage he is, leaving him to slowly bleed out somewhere secure, where no one would ever find him. Then, König could return to you – and your innocent little smile, your trembling hands and cold body in need for warming up. 

But he doesn't have much time right now – he just snapped the bastard’s head while not even caring if someone is watching. If there is someone who saw the scene and didn’t help you – he would go for them too. Protector of his country can have a bit of collateral damage, as a treat. You are his biggest priority and right now you are laying on the ground, barely moving – he only sees your chest moving up and down, the only thing that helps him not to panic from thinking that you are dead. He gently holds your body upright, making sure to support your head – like a small baby, even though he was never holding one. 

He has quite a few experiences in taking care of his drunk comrades – he would usually just toss them out of the bar and into whatever taxi was available. If he is feeling generous – and they are out of car service available in the area – he would even drag them on his shoulder, given that even with men in full gear and a wall of muscles, he is still larger and stronger. 

But he can’t just toss you around like a bag of potatoes, you are fragile! And helpless, and adorable, and he wants to kill that bastard a second time because you are clearly intoxicated and he doesn't even want to think about what could have happened if he wasn’t here to save you. You look perfect, placed in his arms like a good and obedient girl. He is almost caught in fantasies again, but the weight of your body in his hands is bringing him back to reality. 

You smell like alcohol and something sweet, a nice fragrance that you used for this day – jealousy is eating him from the inside, because his adorable little lady didn’t put perfume for him. For that asshole instead, but at least he is dead now – neck twisted and head snapped, quick and silent job. He just tossed his body in the nearest trash can, knowing that even if police did try to find him as a convict, they would be forced to look away if they don’t want to have problems with the local military. 

König remembers the path to your house like he came here every day. He wants this to be true, but this rathole isn’t safe for you. He needs to get you out of here, to place you in the safety of his lap, where he could hug you and cherish you and worship the paradise you are keeping between your legs, waiting for him to come and ripen you. No one is out in the streets at this hour, and he moves fast enough that he covers the ground fairly fast. 

You stir slightly in his grasp and he moves his hands a little, hugging the curve of your ass a bit more. Your thighs are soft and he pushes his fingers deeper in the plumpness of your flesh, enjoying the sensation – you are wearing some skimpy dress and a short jacket, once again not being dressed up to the weather. He almost wants to give you a good spanking, bend you over his knee and beat the flesh of your ass until you learn his lesson. The image of your adorable crying face, begging him to stop and meowling about being a good girl for him makes his pants tighter – and he drags you closer to him, heating your body with his. 

You are addictingly small in his hands, he has to use all what’s left of his self control to not grab your body in inappropriate places. He pushes you closer to the door of your apartment once he is trying to search for the keys in your pocket – it’s hard when you are still unconscious but still moves in his hands, trying to resist even if he is not doing anything. He wants you to cry under him, to get crazy from stimulation as he slams his hips in yours, breeding you like a good little puppy you are – but he wants you to beg him to do this, to allow him to. He almost manages with his anxiety over the years, but the deeply rooted fear of rejection makes him self-conscious. 

— W…wait, don’t ‘ouch me…

König almost freezes in place. Your voice is small, broken, he can sense the tears in your tone as he gently rocks you in his hands. Your place is even worse on the inside, and he absolutely can’t have you staying here for long – but he also doesn’t want to drag an intoxicated and probably drugged girl to the base, leaving his reputation to become even more monstrous. He can invite you to his quarters later, when you both would have time for a very harsh conversation about safety – and why you are a dumb little civilian who shouldn’t ever be thinking for herself if she knows what’s good for her. He can be there for you, and deliver the well-deserved punishment on your body. 

— Quiet, mein Schatz. It’s alright now. 

— No, wait, I…wait…

You are still half-asleep when he gently moves your limp body to the couch, touching your hair even so gently. You are so pliant right now, so docile – afraid of him, of course, it breaks his heart, but it also makes his pants tighter. König enjoyed having you so weak in his arms, just like a good sweetheart should be – not making him feel anxious with the possibility of rejection, not making him angry for not listening to his demands. 

He can have you now – not like you would be able to resist. 

His large hands moving your head to the pillow, softly placing your face to the side so if you would feel sick, you won’t choke on your own vomit – he has too many experiences of very good soldiers almost dying from such mundane reasons, and he can’t have his little bunny suffering from such disgusting fate. He can’t help but touch your hair constantly, enjoying the feeling of it under his fingers – he tangles up with the strands of it, massaging your scalp only to make you let go of a small groan and frown in your sleep, unaware of the stimulation. 

Your apartment is tiny, even more so – for him. The ceilings are dangerously low above his head and if he wasn't hunching down constantly, trying to make himself smaller, safer for you, he would already bump into your ceiling lamp a few times. He smiles under his mask, happy that even if you were awake, his expression is concealed – he has a wide, scary grin on his face and it only grows larger every time you shift slightly in your sleep, but ultimately allows him to touch your body as he seems fit. 

He can lose control - so easily. You are helpless, limp on the couch even as your eyes are fluttering awake and you take in your surroundings. Your dress is dangerously short, and he can’t help but stare at your curves – your legs are making him go crazy with desire, fantasies about spreading them and burying his face in the sweetness of your cunt are flooding his mind. It would be so easy, just make sure you wouldn’t be able to resist and…

— Wh…what happened? 

You are so fucking fragile – like a fine porcelain doll that his mother liked to collect. All wrapped up in your own weakness, face flushed and eyes filled with tears as you realize that you are laying on the couch in your home, and he – the man who scared you more than any terrorist or war ever can – is softly touching your hair, playing with any loose strands. 

You want to panic – but he softly pushes a finger against your lips. König doesn’t care what your neighbors would think if you cried or screamed, but the walls here are thin, and he doesn’t want to deal with the police and showing off his military badge to any corrupt scum that lives in this country. Your eyes darted to him, terrified – and he doesn’t want this, no, he can’t have you afraid of him. A little bit of fear is okay, it’s normal, he can train that out of you – but he would prefer his wifey to be madly in love, not madly terrified. 

— It’s okay. I took care of that Arschloch for you. 

Your mind is still dizzy, your throat is dry as you try to master at least some meaningful words. Drug is still not out of your system completely – you understand that it was a drug now, you couldn’t be so drunk from just one cocktail, no matter the alcohol content. Tomas tried to do something to you – but you blacked out before he even got you to his apartment, and now you are home, at your favorite shitty couch, with a monster of a man holding you close. 

You want to cry, but his hands are oddly warm and you lean closer to his touch. 

You want to panic, but he pushes his fingers against your lips and you slightly calm down. 

— Tomas? Is he…

— Ja, meine Liebe. He’s dead. 

You are feeling sick. The knot in your stomach, anxiety mixed with alcohol and drugs is making you nauseous, you are scrambling on your feet as you try to get out of the couch – your place might not be the best choice out here, but you pride yourself in at least keeping it clean. He helps you get on your feet, supporting your limp head as you desperately try not to puke on the carpet. 

He killed him? How did he die? Did he do something to you while you were asleep? Did he…

— Let me help you, ja? 

— I picked up a shift in the morning…

— You are not working here anymore. 

— But…

— Don’t fight me, lamm.

He drags you to the toilet and holds your hair as you empty your anxieties away, and the scene is disgusting – but he can’t help but to relish in how adorable you look. All helpless, your body is barely holding together when he tries his best to be gentle, rubs circles in your back and pats your head softly. 

König has a lot of experience in dealing with stuff like this – mostly for himself, when his nerves got the best of him and he couldn’t shit them off. He used to be drunk – one of the reasons why he isn’t taking his meds is just so he could drink enormous amounts of alcohol, enough for his body to finally get drunk. He knows how terrible the intoxication feels when you’re alone – so he wants to take care of you, brings you a glass of water as you hug the corner of your bathtub and tries your best to calm down. 

He looks at your trembling form and fights the desire to kiss you. He knows that he can, you won’t be able to do anything against it – but he wants you to like him, wants you to be as into him as he is. If he wants his proposal to be perfect, you have to like him – so he gently rocks your body from side to side, allowing you to cry on his shoulder. 

You feel terrible – dirty even, weak, afraid of what else might happen with you while you can barely control yourself. Thoughts of what might happen if Tomas had his way flooded your brain – but the gentle hands on your back supported you, warming you up. Your head is still dizzy when you drink water that he bringed, cold liquid helps you a little. You feel his hands on your body, as he takes off your dress – you try to panic, to cling onto your clothes, but he is too strong, too large, too…

He moves you to your couch, placing you on the sheets softly. 

He is tucking your blanket over your body and opens the window for better ventilation. 

He roams through your medkit and places Ibuprofen and a glass of water on your bed stand. 

He moves his body slightly so he can kiss your lips – not even caring that you are not exactly in the best condition for kisses. 

You fall asleep right when he moves you to the side again and closes the door behind him. 

König can only thank your intoxicated state that you didn’t even notice how he took your underwear when he undressed you – a small prize for his help, no? Perhaps, the only thing that can keep his hands off your adorable, precious body. 

He should start looking for rings already.  (Comments and asks are appreciated. Tell me what you liked about this work!!) ---------------------------------TAG LIST--------------------------------- @shigbby @honeeybeezzz @herefornanami-s-cake @pendalikespasta @lucylou302 @yxllowtxpe @sunbathed-sweetgrass @sarah-ardini @teenagegever2k22 @lastwordsofadyingstar @lavenderskye29 @karrotsforyou @inlovewithcodmen @onegami @keithehe @lilahbunny @ameneminimo @beepyboopbop @ms-munchkin @dinonacho @undeadgod @dizeesstuff @mingkiiii @midwesternwitchery @yxllowtxpe @flammenwerferpanzerkampfhund @keithehe @iytatsworld @r02eg0ld @cumikering @ysljoon @m1ndbrand @captain-heebie-jeebie @bluenredndeath

[schrijverr]

Jason’s Shitty Day

Jason gets arrested by Superman and Wonder Woman, while undercover as Red Hood in a criminal organization. Problem is that they don’t know he knows Batman and trying to get free only poses more problems. Especially when it’s Dick, not Bruce that comes to break him free.

This work is inspired by Undercover by InvalidStuff on AO3.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: none

~~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jason curses under his breath as he runs for his life through the streets of Metropolis. He can’t believe that this is how he’s going to die for the second time in his life; by the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol.

Okay, maybe he’s being a dramatic, like Bruce they try not to kill their villains, but unlike Bruce they don’t have a strict no killing policy backed up by trauma, so there is a gray area and Jason knows he’s made himself a prime target, being at the top of the Justice League wanted list and all.

Right now it seems ridiculous how he lorded that over the little demon spawn last time they all ate dinner together. The shrimp might not be an assassin anymore, but he still envies Jason’s notoriety all the same.

It’s one of the reasons he told B not to remove him, something he’s regretting now as he rounds a corner, nearly slamming into the building in his haste.

A part of him knows that running is useless, both Superman and Wonder Woman stumbled upon him in an attempt to dismantle the same organization he’s been involving himself in. They assumed him to be the ring leader, because of course they are one of the few members of the Justice League that are actually up to date on their wanted list.

Fucking fuck!

If this were Gotham, he would have had the upper hand, since he knows the terrain and both would be more cautious taking anyone down when Batman forbids metas in his city. However, here in Metropolis he’s more easily confused and the bright city doesn’t allow for him to slip out from under the sight of two of the most powerful people on earth.

So, he isn’t that surprised when Superman’s shadow falls over him, right as he rounds another corner where he comes face to face with Wonder Woman.

He skids to a halt and curses his luck again. His admiration of Wonder Woman never wore off and he’ll likely never live down the mortification of meeting her like this. Right now, he really hates that Bruce is a paranoid fucker, who never let any of his kids near the Justice League. He totally would have made a better impression as the starry-eyed fucker he used to be back as Robin.

However, instead he’s stuck between her and Superman and the only thing he can do is attempt to fight them. Great. B is going to owe him for this.

Jason lets out a roar and charges towards Wonder Woman, whose lasso makes him trip. It forces him to hit the deck and within seconds, Superman is on him, wrestling him to the ground. Of course Jason puts up a fight, never stopping his movements as he kicks and bites, even though that hurts him more.

He knows that Superman is stronger than him, but he also knows that he is stronger than an eel, yet the bastards are hard to catch. So he tries his hardest to impersonate an eel.

A part of him hopes that there are no cameras nearby, because if Barbara or Tim get wind of this, they will get that footage and it will haunt him for the rest of his fucking life. The great Red Hood, wiggling on the ground, being mortified in front of stupid Superman and amazing Wonder Woman and over crimes he didn’t even commit. It’s shameful.

But nothing to be done about that now.

Still, he tries to maintain a little of his reputation, by threateningly growling: “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” when Superman reaches out to take off his helmet.

Superman’s hand stills and he cautiously asks: “Why not?”

“Because the explosives will blow and you can say bye bye to my head,” Jason answers, hoping that now that they’ve apprehended him, they’re not planning on killing him.

“What?” Superman chokes, as Wonder Woman demands: “Why would you do such a thing?”

“Pays to be cautious,” Jason shrugs as well as he can while being bound on the floor. And it is being cautious, nothing more. He’s not paranoid like B is, no matter what Dickhead says. When you’re a dead man walking, it’s better for people not to know.

Superman likely uses his X-ray vision, because he’s quiet for a second, before he gasps, his hands twitching. However, Jason has to give him very, very minor credits for swiftly moving on with his interrogation after learning that – though perhaps that’s because he isn’t likely to get blown up alongside Jason, should the bomb go off.

“Your helmet is led lined,” Superman comments, actually sounding a bit miffed about it.

Jason has to swallow a snort and just shrugs again, this time with a bit more little shit thrown in, as he repeats: “Pays to be cautious.”

Wonder Woman apparently has had enough, because she tightens the lasso around his feet, making it glow as she asks: “What are you doing here?”

“Working,” Jason spits out, having trained with Bruce about being able to answer with truths without giving anything away. He is glad for that training now, but he still can’t believe that he is interacting with Wonder Woman and it’s like this.

“What kind of working?”

“Worming my way to the top.”

“You’re not the leader?” Superman asks, sounding surprised. Jason already guessed that they assumed that, but rolls his eyes anyway. Who goes in without doing any research? Do they not know the importance of intelligence?

“No, does this look like Crime Alley to you?” he shoots back.

“So what are you doing here outside Gotham then?” Wonder Woman asks.

It’s a valid question. And a question Jason can use. He’s obliged to tell the truth, but that doesn’t mean the whole truth, so he answers: “Worrying Batman.”

That makes the two heroes pause as they look at each other then back at him, suddenly a little less certain.

Under the mask, Jason grins. He and B still aren’t on perfect terms, but he doesn’t see green anymore whenever they’re face to face and they’ve actually been working on their relationship, hence Jason being at family dinners and out here doing this infiltration mission for the old man.

However, that answer can also be interpreted as him creating chaos that Batman is worrying about, which would make it an issue they’d call him about.

They already might have anyway, since he’s a Gotham rogue and they know Batman likes to deal with those himself, even if they can fall under another hero’s jurisdiction by not being in Gotham. But they also might not have. So, by doing this, he’s implying that whatever he’s doing is linked back to Gotham, which makes it so they’ll have to call B.

Usually, Jason doesn’t want Bruce’s help. Ever. Not when it comes to professional things. He is his own vigilante now, he’s independent and has his own plans. Batman should ask before interfering and Jason is too old and their relationship too tattered for a father figure to help. So, he’d be spitting and screaming whenever the old man even tries.

This time isn’t the same, though. This time he’s in bigger trouble than he’s ever been before and he can’t get out of it by himself. Well, he might, but only if they drop him off at a local police station, which isn’t likely to happen with how high-profile he is.

He can get out of prisons, of being kidnapped, being thrown into a space war, of being discovered as a mole, of nearly all torture. But the Justice League? He knows B grumbles about them being unprofessional, but they still hold a lot of power. He is screwed without B right now.

Still, Bruce has always stressed the importance of not letting anyone know they’re connected. To the League, Robin was never anything more than a rumor and Batman works alone. It’s to protect all of them and despite their past, Jason doesn’t want to endanger them… doesn’t want to disappoint Bruce either. Which is stupid and he’s ignoring it as hard as he can.

Besides, even if he tells them, they aren’t likely to believe him. And Jason doesn’t want the knowledge that he’s a good guy, playing a bad guy out on the streets. He admires Wonder Woman a lot, but her and Superman aren’t great liars. They’d tip people off and he can’t have that.

So, he has to convince Superman and Wonder Woman that they have to call Batman and maybe B can convince them to let him go.

The silence after his comment has dragged on for a bit. To take advantage of it, he chuckles: “Oh, big bad heroes didn’t see that coming? What? Did you think he scared me and I moved out? Tsk, don’t make me laugh. My haunt is still my haunt, all I do leads back home.”

Then he starts struggling again. They haven’t even bound his arms. It would have been better to try when they were still distracted, but they’ll likely capture him again and he has broken his bones enough times already, thank you very much. Better to play at being a flight risk so they’ll move him to a more comfortable place than the dirty street.

Indeed, Superman is played like a fiddle and hauls him upright, saying: “We’ll take you back to base for interrogation.”

Wonder Woman takes the lasso off his legs and instead binds his arms. Smart move on her part, though Jason can’t believe that neither of them question whether bringing a very dangerous criminal back to their base is a smart idea. Didn’t B train them better than this? Have some sort of secondary location for questioning people if you must, don’t bring them home!

However, he doesn’t mention it and lets them take him to a Zeta-Beam, so they can get to the Watchtower. It’s a step closer to B, thus a step closer to freedom, he isn’t going to argue with that. Let Batman rip into them when he finds out.

In the Watchtower, he’s sure to look around. Bruce has never let anyone in here, not even Barbara or Tim, who have to explain how to install the security updates at the Watchtower. God, they’re all going to be so pissed that he got there first.

To make up for that betrayal, he makes sure to look around as much as he can. They’ve of course all stalked the Watchtower on Babs’s monitors, but none of them have actually been, so he’ll have to be able replicate the vibes later.

The vibes are kind of sad.

A bit rude, maybe, but it’s true! It’s all metal and not even that toasty, nor cool, just that gross in between where a sweater is too hot, but you also feel kind of cold. It’s clear B has had input here, because he loves his professionalism.

Jason can still remember the Batcave in its infancy, how much he, Dick and Barbara had to influence before it became what it is now.

All the others don’t remember – except maybe for Tim, who had to pick Bruce out of his self hate spiral – but the Batcave didn’t used to be a little warm for recovering muscle soreness or the cold from outside, there didn’t used to be comfy couches, a fridge with snacks and drinks, or messy piles of works in progress.

He’s going to have a serious word with B when he gets out of here about why he hasn’t implemented anything like that here, when he knows that B naps on those couches and appreciates all the warmth the kids (ugh) brought into the Batcave.

… Well, maybe if he gets out of here, not when. The holding cell they’re pushing him into seems pretty secure and after a second, Jason recognizes it as a Superman containment unit that’s part of B’s contingencies. That makes it also pretty much anyone else proof too.

The shackles he’s locked into are meta proof, however, also Batman’s design, which means that Jason has made it his business to know how to get out of them, because he lives to spite the man most of the time.

Neither Superman nor Wonder Woman have spoken since they started hauling him off to his new little prison and Jason wonders if that is going to change or if they’re going to leave him again.

He also wonders if he should start spouting some sort of monologue to cement himself as a proper villain, but decides against it. It might interfere with a cover story to get him out of here. Anything you say can and will be used against you and all that shit. So, he stays quiet.

There is a chair in the chamber that he’s pushed on and Wonder Woman, starts to wrap her lasso around him again as she states: “We need to know more about this organization of yours. You fought us well and I commend your bravery, however, you posses information we need and you do not seem willing to part with it. But the lasso will make you speak the truth.”

Alarm bells start ringing in Jason’s head, despite feeling thrilled that Wonder Woman just complimented him, so he immediately says: “Hey, hey, hey, can you even do that? Isn’t that unconstitutional or some shit? I mean, I think you need a permit or something to question me like that, I know good old Bats is always up his own ass about right channels and court permissions, shouldn’t you read me my rights? I’ve been arrested enough times to know that’s part of it.”

Red Hood has absolutely not been arrested ever, Jason Todd has, but that’s irrelevant right now. He knows he can’t keep up half truths forever and the actual truth can’t come spilling out. Right now he needs to ensure that Wonder Woman keeps that lasso away from him and remind them that he’s a rogue of Batman, so that they’ll contact him.

Wonder Woman pauses for a second and looks at Superman, who is more versed than her in the world of men.

“He has a point, if this goes deeper than a surface drug deal, then we’ll need to ensure all of them go away for life,” Superman says.

At that Jason would let out a breath of relief, if he hadn’t been trained better than that. He does, however, let his eyes roll, because Supes over there can’t see it and he is allowed to be annoyed that they think it is just some drug bust when Jason has been working for two months to get this neck deep into very fucking shady shit.

“Batman must have some protocol about it,” Wonder Woman says. “I shall look it up, so that we may proceed.”

“You’re not going to call him?” Jason asks, a little surprised, because surely that would be easier than going through the thousands of pages of protocol that B wrote.

Superman squints. “You seem eager to get Batman up here,” he comments. “That’s unusual, most want nothing to do with him. Why?”

Fuck.

He’s used to Gotham villains, who regularly kidnap Batman and want him to pay attention to them, not this fear that he has outside of Gotham. It’s easy to forget too, because B is one of the least scary people Jason knows. Hell, even Dick ranks above him in scariness.

Still, he doesn’t let that show, instead leaning back in his chair as casual as he can, smirking: “I guess, I just appreciate the devil I know is all. You two seem a little boring, no offense.”

“Well, that’s new,” Superman comments and Jason wants to throttle him, because he’s horrible at not letting any information slip past the cracks – and yes, personal relations and reputations are definitely information – he’ll have to remember to mention that to Bruce too.

In the end, Wonder Woman goes to contact Batman and look over their protocol, while Superman stays to watch Jason. It’s the first sensible thing they’ve done, not leaving him alone that is. A part of Jason wants to be annoyed, because now he can’t switch on the com with Babs, since Superman will hear, but he’s just relieved that they have a sense of knowing what to do.

So, they sit in silence.

Superman tries to chat a few times, but Jason knows better than that. You don’t talk, not even small talk. Anything is prying when you’re being interrogated, even if they just want to know your opinion on the weather. Which is making the atmosphere quite awkward.

Luckily, they’re freed from the silence five minutes later when Wonder Woman returns. She says: “Batman says he’ll be here in ten minutes and to not touch or question Red Hood until he gets here.”

Jason is too relieved by the news to judge her for saying that in front of him. Soon B will be here and then he will talk Jason out of here and he’ll be home before he knows it. After today, he can probably convince Alfred to bake cookies with him too. Score.

For the next ten minutes, the atmosphere doesn’t get much better. Jason feels a little more inclined to talk to Wonder Woman, but she is taking Batman’s instructions seriously and with Jason in the room, none of the conversations between Superman and Wonder Woman really take off.

Then the door opens to reveal Batman. For a second Jason can feel a weight be lifted off of him, but then he looks again. The figure is not Bruce, it’s Dick.

What the fuck.

If he weren’t wearing the helmet, he could make a face to demand an explanation, but for now his shoulders will have to do. However, Dick has always been bad at reading Jason’s shoulders when he’s chained up and Jason has a harder time with Dick’s face when he’s playing Batman. So whatever information flow there might have been gets lost in translation.

Dick is one of the few that know Jason did theater in High School, so he’s probably counting on Jason’s yes-and-bullshitting. Which is the only thing that prepares Jason for whatever nonsense he is about to pull out of his ass.

He can’t believe they’re going to lie to Superman and Wonder Woman. What a day this is shaping up to be.

“Hi Batsy,” he grins, hoping that him recognizing Dick will strengthen the cover.

“Red Hood,” Dick greets back. “I knew I’d run into you at some point with this. I’m disappointed, you were doing so well last time. What happened?”

“You know me, I never keep my nose clean,” Jason shoots back, because he’s a crime lord and he doesn’t plan on changing that. His family knows that.

Dick fakes a sigh and sternly says: “You were at least staying in Gotham.” Then he turns to the others and asks: “Where did you find him?” like he didn’t know already.

“Batman, I am glad you came,” Wonder Woman greets. “We have apprehended Red Hood in a drug bust in Metropolis, but we need more information from him. He claims his organization goes back to Gotham, if this goes deeper, we need to know.”

Tsk, what ‘his organization’? Jason had nothing to do with this. Terrible reporting. She could have used ‘the organization’, way more accurate and- oh god, now he’s judging Wonder Woman!

Dick as Batman grunts in acknowledgment and Wonder Woman continues: “We found him in the middle of the warehouse district. The others got away.”

Jason notes that Superman hasn’t said anything yet and shoots him a covert glance. He is frowning at Dick. Jason curses. Dick can do a good Batman when he wants to, but when he does that, he is usually not in good lighting with people who work with the actual Batman regularly.

So, he keeps an eye on the man as Dick gruffly says: “Thank you. I have been tracking his organization these past weeks, if I had known he would branch out, I would have contacted you. I’ll take him back to Gotham for proper interrogation and loop you back in once I know more.”

At that both Superman and Wonder Woman start to look more suspicious and Jason just knows that Dick is going to rip into B later, because why the hell are they surprised at him saying thanks?

Superman finally speaks up: “Why have you been tracking his organization, when he claimed he wasn’t the ringleader when we caught him?”

Damn those investigative reporter instincts, Jason thinks. He needs to distract them from Dick, so they won’t ask any more question. So, he calls out: “I mean, I practically was. Gotham branch is all mine.”

Eyes are back on him, great. Or, well, not truly great, because he hasn’t thought much further than that, but great as in, there is a distraction.

“Red Hood,” Dick admonishes, though Jason can see the relief in his shoulders.

So, he shrugs: “What? I like getting proper credit.”

“Well, you can tell the GCPD all about the things you deserve credit for,” Dick says, leaning in close as he growls.

Fuck, Jason is so making fun of him for that later. After he busted him out of here. Because right now, he has an act to play if he wants to see freedom again. And if he’s honest, he really likes his freedom.

However, before Dick can haul him out of his seat and break him out of here, they’re stopped by Superman: “We caught him in Metropolis, I’d like to question him here first.”

“And he’s my rogue, messing in my city,” Dick snipes back. “He’s got his fingers in all types of pies and I’d like to get him behind bars for it as quick as possible. My way. Because that way works.”

Jason studies Superman and Wonder Woman closely. Dick used the pie expressions, B never is one for expressions, much less pie related ones. And it seems the League figured that out too, because there is a tenseness in their shoulders that wasn’t there before.

Dick must have noticed too, but he’s awaiting their response so he can play into it. However, both know for sure that they’re screwed when Wonder Woman says: “I know you have your way, but you have rarely denied the use of my lasso, especially if it would help your city.”

“Yeah, and you would never just take him without getting more information from us first,” Superman adds. “Who are you?”

“I’m Batman,” Dick repeats, though that’s clearly not going to cut it with the way the two heroes start to close in on him. Jason is starting to feel he’s gonna be on his own here again real soon.

“You’re not. Your heartbeat is wrong,” Superman says.

“Rude, my heart could just have been having an off day,” Dick retorts, obviously giving up on the facade as he darts out of the way and ducks under their attacks and out of the door.

Wonder Woman sets off after him, Superman closely behind. It’s reminiscent of earlier today but then with Dick in Jason’s position. Jason takes a moment to be smug that Dick is definitely getting caught on camera, before taking off through the door himself.

It’s another mental note to bring up to B later and he is starting to wonder if he even trained these people, because that’s truly an amateur’s mistake. Though, perhaps they can be forgiven with the shock of someone managing to break in to the Watchtower without detection while pretending to be one of their own.

His arms are still in the shackles, but there is no time to pick them. Jason also has Zeta-Beam access, if he can just reach the terminal, he’ll be out of here. He’s sure Dick can either talk himself out or that he can come up with a better rescue plan than that.

Where the hell even is the actual Batman? You know, Bruce Wayne?

No time to think about that now, he tells himself, putting the thought out of his mind. He is quickly following the route they’d taken when he got here, but in the opposite direction. He grins when the terminal comes into view.

Skidding to a halt, he quickly starts to put in coordinates. Any coordinates at this point. He’s not used to it, never really traveling via Zeta-Beam much. He hopes he remembers the coordinates of the Batcave after B’s insistence they all learn them and he won’t end up in the middle of the ocean or some shit.

However, before he can beam away, Dick crashes into him when he comes flying into the entrance hall, obviously having thought the same thing as Jason. Only he has two heroes on his trail.

“Fucking fight, Dick,” Jason screams, not even caring that he used the real name, because with Dick you can get away with that. As he attempts to type even faster to get them both away.

Alas, it’s not meant to be, because while Dick is a worthy opponent, he’s fighting two of the most powerful people on their home turf and he doesn’t have anything to fight them with, except for B’s gear that he is less familiar with than his own.

So, while he gets a few good punches in, soon he and Jason are dragged away from the terminal and wrestled to the ground. Now Dick in shackles too.

“Way to go, asshat,” Jason bitches as he lies on the ground for the second time today.

“Oh, like you could have done better. I make a great Batman,” Dick bitches back.

Right at the moment, Flash comes running in, confusedly asking: “What the hell’s happening? I saw it on the monitors, but I didn’t know who to go after first and- Wait, why is Batman in chains? Is he brainwashed?”

“See,” Dick exclaims delightedly. “Flash thinks I make a good Batman.”

“What?” Flash asks confused.

Superman says: “It’s not Batman.”

“He’s not?” Flash says, sounding surprised as he leans over to take a better look.

“Ha!” Dick crows as Jason hisses: “Shut your mouth, dumbass.”

“Who are you and what have you done to Batman?” Wonder Woman exclaims, digging her knee into Dick’s back and making him grunt. Jason has no pity after that stupid stunt.

“I’m Nightwing,” Dick answers and Jason tries to send him a ‘wtf’-look, but is ignored. “I’m a vigilante. I work in Blüdhaven. It’s Gotham’s sister city. Batman’s tied up at the moment, asked me to go in his stead. He didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Lies,” Wonder Woman says.

“Batman would contact us ourselves, not trick us. He’s our ally and we know him,” Superman states confidently.

“No, you misunderstand. He’s quite literally tied up,” Dick says and it dawns on Jason that Bruce Wayne must have been kidnapped when the call came through. In enough of a bind that a miraculous escape would put their identities at stake. Just great. Fucking great.

“He’s taken? We must save him,” Wonder Woman says.

“That’s not necessary,” Dick backtracks, realizing his mistake. “We already have someone on it, don’t worry.”

“Who?” Jason asks.

“The day shift,” Dick answers and Jason mentally translates that to Duke. Good for him. It’s very useful to have someone out there during the day for situations like this.

“Wait, is he claiming to know Batman?” Flash asks. “I mean, I know he’s dressed like Batman, but being captured and all, I thought he was kind of impersonating him and hatching some nefarious scheme, not, like, covering his shift.”

“He is impersonating Batman,” Superman says. “And we can’t trust his claims. He’s here to rescue Red Hood and he is one of Batman’s villains.”

“Oh, so they know him from fighting him,” Flash says, getting what Superman is implying.

“Where have you taken Batman!” Wonder Woman demands.

“I haven’t taken him! Batman isn’t taken,” Dick yelps. “His civvie ID is and he is getting rescued.”

“You know his secret identity? We don’t even know his identity,” Flash exclaims, actually pouting.

“Yes, I know his ID,” Dick says, almost desperate, Jason would feel bad, but he’s kind of given up and is just laying there. “You can check the Zeta-Beam logs, I’m Nightwing, I have access. I work in Gotham’s sister city, we team up sometimes. I know Batman, I promise. I’m just helping him out.”

“Helping him out by getting Red Hood out?” Superman asks, obviously not believing it.

Dick knows how it sounds and lets out a frustrated scream. “Yes!” he insists again. “How did you contact him to come here? How could I have known to come?”

That makes them pause for a second, before Superman shakes his head: “You could have intercepted the message.”

“I didn’t, you know how paranoid B is, his shit is unhackable,” Dick says.

“B?” Flash repeats to himself and Jason mentally face palms. It’s sweet that Dick tried to rescue him, but he feels like he only made it worse.

“We don’t know, maybe you could,” Superman says.

“Oh, he could be a shape-shifter, who took on Batman’s identity and hid the real Batman somewhere else to masquerade as him and help his fellow villains in some sort of plot,” Flash spins a theory.

Now Jason groans out loud and thunks his head on the floor, the impact dampened by his helmet, which is luckily still on. “Why the fuck would he then not take the exact form of Batman?” he asks, exasperated.

“Exactly, just check the logs, I’m Nightwing,” Dick backs him up, almost begging at this point.

“You could have faked that, if you intercepted the message,” Wonder Woman says, not letting Dick up for a second.

“It would make sense,” Flash nods.

“It would?” Superman asks and Jason curses. They should have pushed, the boy scout might have believed them, but the moment’s gone now.

“Yeah, if we bought it, then he could pretend to be Batman for forever and we wouldn’t be suspicious if he acted out of character, because he was a different person, but in our perception still a good guy. It’s smart,” Flash shrugs.

Jason really hates his life, because the Flash is making kind of sense and it appears that there not going anywhere anytime soon.

“I’ll contact Oracle again, Batman’s AI won’t be compromised where his phone might,” Wonder Woman says and Jason has to do a double take. They think Barbara is an AI?

He and Dick share a confused look, however when they hear Barbara pick up, Dick takes the moment to scream: “Tell B to get his ass over here.”

Jason immediately joins in: “O, I’ll owe you if you get me out of here in the next 30 minutes.”

Now all of the heroes present are giving the two of them a confused look as Wonder Woman relays: “We have Red Hood here and an impostor claiming to be Batman. Where is Batman, Oracle? Is he safe?”

While he can’t make out what she’s saying from here, Jason can still hear the amusement in Barbara’s voice as she answers Wonder Woman.

However, whatever she said, must be enough, because when Wonder Woman hangs up, she says: “If our friend does not show up within the next twenty minutes, we are free to go search for him.”

That’s quite fast, Jason thinks. If he could have gotten here so fast, why send Dick first? Jason could have waited for actual Batman. Dick must think the same, because he makes a confused noise, which turns into a little yelp, when Wonder Woman drags him to his feet. Jason starts laughing at him, but gets cut off when he gets hauled to his feet too.

They don’t leave for the cells again though, apparently they’ve decided to hang around here while they wait for B to show up. Flash does leave however, having been on monitor duty before the whole drama went down.

While they wait, Wonder Woman reaches out to Dick, saying: “Let’s reveal your true identity, impostor.”

“No, wait!” Dick yells. “The code states that as a hero, I cannot be discowled or unmasked without my explicit approval. I state that I am Nightwing, a hero, unless you can prove that I am not who I claim I am, you are not allowed to do that.”

Wonder Woman stills again, then asks: “How do you know that?”

“Uhm, I work with B, you really think he doesn’t make me memorize those codes?” Dick shoots back. “And if you knew it wasn’t allowed, why would you do that?” Another thing for on the list.

“You’re clearly a villain, that code does not apply,” Wonder Woman states.

“No, you think I’m a villain. Innocent until proven guilty,” Dick corrects.

“You broke into the Watchtower, that’s not screaming innocent,” Superman points out, which is kind of valid, but Jason has sat in enough on court trails against his own men. He knows that shit wouldn’t necessarily hold up.

“I had a good reason,” Dick huffs and Jason ignores how touched he is that Dick thinks that freeing him is a good enough reason to risk getting destroyed by the Justice League over.

After that, they’re all silent. Wonder Woman and Superman do try to talk with them again, but Dick knows, just as Jason does, that it’s smarter to keep your mouth shut. So they wait quietly as the minutes tick by.

It takes a long time.

By the time they hit seventeen minutes, Jason is starting to get worried B won’t get here in time and then they’ll have to deal with Superman and Wonder Woman tearing into Gotham to try and find their Batman.

Whenever they civvie IDs get taken hostage, it’s usually a media circus after and that’s when rescue doesn’t take overtime. He doesn’t know how Bruce is going to duck out of it. Maybe he has already failed.

Fucking fuck, how badly can one day go? How badly can Jason screw up that he hasn’t just compromised himself and his relation to Batman, but also Dick’s connection to both of them and risked Gotham’s entire vigilante population being found out by two metas, who will go into the city without permission.

It’s clear that Wonder Woman and Superman are getting antsy too, continuously checking the time and looking at the Zeta-Beam, waiting for it to come to life.

Just as they hit the nineteen minute mark, the Zeta-Beam whirs and the crisp voice announces Batman’s arrival. The man himself appearing like some water in the desert, dressed in his previous suit, though his arm is in a cast.

“Batman!” Wonder Woman exclaims in relief, as Superman worries: “What happened to you?”

“A minor mishap,” B replies. And Jason curses, it’s going to be a bitch to keep him out of the field like that and it doesn’t help prove their innocence in the slightest.

“I thought you were going to be busy for way longer,” Dick accuses, probably having been as surprised as Jason was that he could get here this fast.

“Signal is getting better and the broken arm helped me avoid the whole media circus,” Bruce explains apologetically.

“You actually know these two, Batman?” Superman asks, sounding a little hurt, betrayed and confused all at the same time.

“Yes, I honestly thought you wouldn’t notice Nightwing running this errand for me while I was preoccupied,” Batman informs them. “If I had known how today would run, I would have waited and retrieved Red Hood myself.”

There is absolutely no apology in his voice and it’s now doubly confirmed that Dick’s thank you had been a dead give away. Why is he being a dick to his friends? They all would have gotten a sorry if B pulled this shit on them. Dick is so going to lecture him.

“I demand an explanation,” Wonder Woman frowns. “That one is a criminal and we have not heard of Nightwing before. Why does he have access here? Why are you helping Red Hood?”

Batman sighs as if he’d seen this coming, but was hoping it wouldn’t happen. Then he says: “I’m here because Red Hood was undercover for me, you blew his mission. I send Nightwing to get him, because I trust him.”

“And not us?” Superman asks, even more hurt than before. “Batman, you thought we wouldn’t notice you being an entirely different person. You tried to trick us and never even informed us Red Hood worked for you.”

“Hey! I don’t work for that asshole,” Jason snaps, already annoyed since B blew the cover he worked so hard to keep, even if he wasn’t likely to get out of this without giving something away. He knows it’s stupid too, especially in these circumstances, but it’s always been a sensitive topic for him.

Superman and Wonder Woman now look between him and B and B explains: “He’s an independent vigilante, but we team up. I asked his help, he did it as a favor. I never told you, because telling you would compromise him. If we can spin this, it might solidify his standing in the organization, if you had known, you might have let him go and they might not have believed you. It was better this way.”

“I’m really starting to feel like you trust them more than us and that you’ve been lying,” Superman frowns. “We have always respected your privacy and not pried. But you’re keeping things from us. Important things. Things related to our work. And that’s not okay.”

Batman is now between a rock and a hard place and Jason would be more sympathetic if it weren’t B.

“There’s a reason I’m keeping this particular thing,” Batman says without offering any further explanation.

“This is no way to treat your fellow warriors,” Wonder Woman exclaims.

“I’m with her,” Dick pipes up.

“Me too,” Jason adds, because like hell is he siding with Bruce over Wonder Woman.

“You and me both know that we right here, are old enough that you don’t have to do this,” Dick says, almost imploring and Jason holds his breath. He can’t believe Dick is asking Bruce to break their non-association vow here.

“What is he talking about?” Superman demands. “How do you know them?”

B is quiet, assessing the situation, then he utters words Jason never thought he’d hear in front of anyone associated with the League. “They are my sons. I raised them. That’s why I trust them and why I’m here to get them.”

It’s deathly silent for a second, then both Wonder Woman and Superman burst with outrage of never having been told, of being kept in the dark with information like this. How did Batman keep this from them? Why?

Letting them rage for a moment, B speaks up again once they’ve quieted down: “They weren’t always adults and I didn’t know you well enough. I wasn’t going to endanger them. What if you were mind controlled or turned against me? They couldn’t become a target.”

“So what about I work alone?” Superman huffs. “We put effort into pulling you into our group.”

“And that is appreciated and it does take effort to learn how to work together, even if you’re already familiar with teamwork,” B counters. “But yes, I did lie. Having a certain persona here helped keep my children safe. I don’t regret it.”

Despite wanting to be better than this, Jason’s still touched that B would go this far for them. It has always been an insecurity of his, so no matter how shitty it is to the League, he can’t help but feel happy that Bruce chose him over them. That he doesn’t regret it.

Dick, however, doesn’t have that as much and has a different reaction. He pulls free from Wonder Woman’s grip, slackened by circumstance, and says: “And your persona is asshole? Jesus Christ, B, the least you can do is apologize. They got suspicious of me saying thank you, Agent A raised you better than that.”

B at least has the decency to look a little sheepish at that, shocking the two heroes and then shocking them even more when he says: “I am sorry for the trouble.”

“Great,” Jason breaks the tension, stepping away from Superman, because he’s had a roller coaster of a day and he is done. “Glad we got that all settled then. Nice to meet you two, let’s not do it again. If your see me, you don’t know me. Now, let’s to get out of here.”

“Wait, we want more answers,” Wonder Woman stops them.

“Wonder Woman,” B says, finally sounding like himself, tired and a little gruff, but not unkind. “I broke my arm less than an hour ago, I’ve been patrolling all week with three separate Arkham escapes and my kids just got chased and locked up. I need a moment. Promise that I’ll explain better tomorrow. Make it a meeting if you must.”

She still looks reluctant, but Superman is already won over. His kindness is easy to exploit Jason notes out of habit.

“Alright, Batman, but I expect you not to duck out,” he says.

With Superman allowing them to leave, Wonder Woman agrees too: “Yes, answers can come tomorrow. But know that I will come into Gotham to find you, should you not arrive.”

Jason sees Dick suppressing a snort. He has to agree that. With the forewarning and all of them there, they could stop her should B not want to go tomorrow. They’re not going to, B can face his own consequences and Jason doesn’t actually want to fight Wonder Woman, but it speaks to both of their naivety about their city.

“Thank you,” B says, probably feeling he’ll worsen Dick’s lecture otherwise.

Then he punches in his code on the Zeta-Beam and they’re in the Batcave before they know it, Barbara and Alfred waiting for them.

Barbara smirks: “You have no intention of letting them know about the others, do you?” Jason guesses she had already been here with Dick as often happens whenever one of them is kidnapped as a civilian.

“No,” B grunts.

Jason rolls his eyes and finally removes his helmet, holding out his shackles for Bruce to undo without a word. He’s going to crash in his room upstairs, eat some of Alfred’s delicious cooking and then come up with some way to make this whole thing work for him. He’s already invested two months in this stupid op, he’s not letting one shitty day ruin it.

While B undoes his shackles, Dick bounces over to Babs to let her undo his, saying: “Do you know the Justice League thinks you’re an AI?”

“Of course, people tell secrets to computers, not people they’ve never met before,” Babs shrugs easily.

“Oh you’re evil,” Dick grins and Jason agrees with a nod.

Now free, he also makes his way over to her and says: “What do I have to do to get the footage of Dickiebird here getting wrecked by Superman and Wonder Woman?”

“Hey, you got destroyed too,” Dick pouts.

“Not in the Watchtower while dressed as B. I looked cool,” Jason counters, half of that a lie. Fuck, he really hopes Babs hasn’t already found footage of his own take down.

“Get me those snacks I like next time you’re abroad and I’ll throw them in the group chat,” she says.

“Deal,” he shakes her hand, before Dick can interfere.

“You two are so mean,” he pouts even more. “You got taken down too, bet you looked stupid.”

“I did not,” Jason protests immediately, his cheeks feeling hot.

“Camera footage says otherwise,” Babs grins evilly, because she’s an evil evil-doer, who is out to get Jason with her evil ways.

“DO not show him that!” he shrieks, jumping to get her hands away from the keyboards, before she can pull it up, while Dick tries to fight him off so she can.

A part of him still can’t believe that today he nearly died for the second time at the hands of the blue boy scout and his idol, nor that Dick broke in to the Watchtower dressed as Batman to come get him.

Later he’ll have to deal with B’s paranoia over the Justice League knowing about him and Dick, write a report about the weak points of the Justice League, then worry about his own mission and all of that will be a hassle. But right now he’s worrying about making sure his eel footage never sees the light of day and wrestling with his brother and Babs.

All in all, today could have been worse.

~~

A/N:

I don’t think the Justice League is incompetent btw, I think Jason (and the other bats) are just kind of intense with their own security and a little judgmental.

[yetanothergreyjedi]

Ghosts of Our Pasts

DP x DC crossover

Danny Fenton and Damian Wayne sibling AU

Parts 1 & 2. Part 4 Part 5

Part 3: Before

"You are not my brothers!" Their newest brother shouted. They were used to this by now. Once Damian had stopped actively trying to kill them for dominance or whatever, they'd taken to domesticating him like feral kitten. He was a lot more hiss than he was claw. And as long as they didn't push too far, he just got more comfortable with them. Except, of course, when they referred to him as family.

"Yes we are," Someone quipped back, and Damian's face grew stormy.

"You. Are. Not." Damian snarled. "I had a brother. You will not replace him!" They all froze with the revelation, and Damian took that time to throw down his Robin gear and storm out of the room.

He'd had a brother. The league had tucked away, not one, but two?!? And they had killed one, or gotten them killed or— it was no use to speculate, they didn't know what happened.

"I'll talk to him," Dick volunteered, before he started to spiral. No one responded, probably because they'd started a spiral of their own.

___

Damian wasn’t hiding. Well, from a civilian's perspective, he might be. He felt like hiding, but this was not an appropriate situation to hide from. Thus, he stayed in a place someone with League of Assassin training, and his b— his father’s other children would find completely obvious.

It was Grayson who found and silently sat down next to him. He didn't ask, and that was better because Damian didn't have to say anything, but it was worse because he needed to say something, and now he couldn’t hide behind a resistance to interrogation.

"He would've loved it here." Damian admitted.

Grayson leaned ever so slightly into him. "What was he like?"

___

Danyal laughed as he ran down the hall, enjoying the moment while he could before the inevitable he'll to pay. He'd been seen, but hadn't been caught, so his self imposed mission was successful.

It was a harmless prank, but an action suitably beneath an heir to the Demon. It should be enough. Damian wouldn't fail, but he feared he would; now, even if he drastically missed his mark he'd still have a reason for grandfather to keep him around.

If Dany had known he was setting the mark his brothers would be held to, he would've held back. He did now. He sprinted on the razors edge of acceptable performance and excellence. Hopefully, it would last long enough to put his plan into motion.

___

Damian told him about the older brother who loved the stars, played secret games, got into odd kinds of trouble, and was the best at everything. Dick got a sense of how young Damian must've been when he'd died. There was also something missing in the stories, but Dick didn't push. This was a rare bit of vulnerability, and he wasn’t going to risk it.

They missed patrol that night, and later shared those stories with the rest of their siblings. They morned the brother they'd never meet, and eventually Damian called them brothers too.

But one phrase from that night still haunted Dick;

"He would've gotten us here years ago... if it weren't for me..."

Dick never did ask, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the details.

___

Danyal layed there for an eternity. If he moved too soon, he'd risk Damian turning around, if he waited too long, he'd bleed out. Would Damian turn around? Would he apologize and help him up? Would he come back to finish him off? Had his brother intended a slow kill to make him suffer, or to let him escape? Maybe Damian hadn't accounted for the light armor beneath his clothes?

He waited a half an eternity longer, then forced himself to his feet. He managed a few steps before pain and dizziness toppled him again. Up. Step. Step. Down. Up. Step. Down. Crawling managed more distance, but left a more obvious trail. It wouldn’t get him out of here. He would die here. Unless...

___

Jazz wanted to be mad at the boy who was now her brother. Her parents had barely left the lab since he'd offered a glowing green vial in exchange for a home.

It was his fault they'd forgotten about her, but only this time. Last time is was the old woman convinced her husband was still in the house. The time before that it had been a beeping box that went off whenever it was pointed to close to an electrical line. It would only be proof until it wasn’t, and then she'd have her parents back until someone brought the next new toy. It was his fault this time. He stood in the living room in his borrowed clothes like furniture was a foreign concept. She sighed, grabbed a washcloth and ran it under warm water. It was hard to be mad at someone who'd shown up looking like they'd escaped a serial killer.

He didn't startle as she approached and she realized he'd been watching her. Well, no backing out now.

"Here," She held it out to him, "you have dried blood behind your ear."

"Oh," He ducked his head and started scrubbing. She waited for him to finish and showed him where to put the dirty laundry. She had a little brother now, and their parents had forgotten them both again.

_

_

_

💕

In this AU, Jazz is 13 when Danny arrives. She already thinks that psychology is interesting, but she only starts diving deep into it after Danny shows up.

If you guys have any comments or questions, I'd love to hear them. This was a one part thing until you asked questions and started thinking about the answers.

Tag list:

@spectralstardustandphantomnights @avelnfear @idfk-man10 @blackroserelina @candeartist422 @mur-ururu @luer-mirin @insufferablecrab @skulld3mort-1fan @alonedustspeck @voidbornposts @meira-3919 @marshmelloe @aethernorwood @mimilikey @undead-essence

Dears, I love you, but you really need to change your profile pic to anything that isn't the default because I thought you were bots. I legitimately almost blocked you on reflex because I'm getting so many right now.

@the-winds-of-kushala and @spectralstardustandphantomnights thank you both for your lovely title suggestions

💕

[jxsterr]

something crazy that’s just crossed my mind is the whole thing of does zelda miss link while she’s stuck in the past? i know the memories don’t do shit all justice to tell us ANYTHING about zelda’s feelings on this whole situation but it does make you wonder. i personally think she misses him like he’s dead

because imagine this. you’ve been trapped in stasis for literally a century. you’ve watched all of your friends and family die. then your knight, the one you watched die in your arms, finally comes back and frees you. you then move into a small house together, it’s not much but it’s honest living. you spruce it up with decorations until you can both stand back and say, “yeah, this feels like home.” you live the next year or so quaintly, travelling around hyrule to restore it to its former glory as best as you can, all within the company of someone you hold closer than a best friend. he’s still there, even though he doesn’t have to be, and follows you ever loyally. you wonder if he’ll ever go his own way, but his insistence on remaining by your side makes you think otherwise.

you believe in the strength of learning, that the children of hyrule need to be better educated in order to solidify a strong future for the kingdom, so you build a school. you hire teachers and organise the school’s curriculum, taking part so much that you become a teacher yourself. he greets you every evening when you come home and plates up dinner already piping hot so you don’t have to worry about it. life continues this way, simple and non exhaustive, living earnestly beside someone who would extinguish the sun if it meant you’d smile. you love him, realistically, and he loves you too.

something stirs under the castle and, like the good princess you are, you go trundling into the depths below with your loyal knight to solve the problem. it bears endless discoveries, things you know you’ll stay up all night studying; things that bring you so much joy that he holds your torch so you can enjoy it without interruption. instead of the torch, he’s soon holding a shattered blade in his bloody hand, arm eaten and burnt raw by something that smells so vile it’s all you can do not to vomit. you watch the world fall into peril once more, and as you do so, you feel yourself falling to the exact same fate. you see the way he throws away legend and jumps after you, knowing that he is also falling to his demise. you see the fear in his eyes, the way tears cling to the corners of them and feel the burn of your own.

his plan was always to die by your side, and he will do it by any means necessary.

you wake up and he’s gone, your world is gone, and you’re somewhere new. two strange people greet you and quickly take you under their wing, and while a new world means endless discoveries, you can’t help but wonder if link is dead. did he kill himself alongside you, only for you to somehow survive and let him fall alone? the thought makes the bile creep up your throat.

who’s to say that, during the period of time where link is unconscious, she isn’t wracked with guilt at the realisation that he may be dead? she’s thousands upon thousands of years in the past, and his body may be the only one laid cold at the bottom of that chasm. would people even remember him? yes, he was the hero of hyrule, but he’d always kept a low profile. humble to a fault, she’d tell him. and the fault may be that if he’s dead, perhaps only her name would grace the lips of hyrule. the survivor’s guilt would eat her whole knowing that he’s died for her twice now.

so you can imagine her relief when she feels the pull of him and his sword. the relief when she can make her vow to him. the relief in knowing that he’s okay, somehow, and that he’s alive above everything else. but now that she knows he’s okay, what’s there left to do? well, miss him, of course. they’re inseparable and very rarely do things without the company of the other, she’s going to miss him like her right arm.

in the day she’s surrounded by people—sonia, rauru, mineru and her army of constructs, plus the rest of the people of this era of hyrule—but come the night, she’s alone. her bed lacks the warmth it used to hold, doesn’t bear the imprint of where her love has slept beside her. she’s painfully, irrefutably alone. she’ll step out onto the balcony of the castle alone and wish he was by her side, wish that she could just speak to him again even for a little while. for as long as she walks this hyrule, there is an overwhelming, gaping hole in her chest. she finds comfort in the presence of sonia, rauru and mineru but there’s only so much they can do. she talks to sonia about him. she talks to rauru about him. she talks to mineru about him. anyone who will listen to her speak of her talented hero, she will talk to.

she rides a construct and thinks of him. a steward construct explains to her the biodiversity of the land and she thinks of him. she spends her nights at her desk, quill in hand and illuminated by candlelight, and writes in her diary as if she’s speaking to him. it cuts her open over and over with every day she has to wake up alone.

when she decides the only thing fate has left in store for her is to become a dragon to aid link in the future, she weeps for days on end. she knows that this is it, everything she’s ever known will be beyond her forever now. she lives on in the skies, but her soul dies here. all those years they spent together building a life together, growing, all for nothing. they were cursed from the very beginning. ever since they fell to the calamity the first time fate has had it out for them. and so her last thoughts while she can still think are of him. she prays for his safety, for his success, and for him to have a happy and long life without her. she weeps knowing she’ll never grow old with him or get to experience the revival of her kingdom. it tears her from the inside out, and she screams even as a dragon at the loss. it’s overwhelming, devastating beyond any weight words could hold. she’s lost everything, lost everyone, and lost herself. she was doomed from the beginning. she was never meant to be happy.

so yes, the ending of totk should’ve been a HELL of a lot more emotionally charged. seeing someone you thought was dead AND that you worried you’d never see again?? she’d be crying for hours in his arms

[helloalycia]

𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: Reaping Day is finally upon you and you know what you have to do, but there's only one problem: Lucy Gray wouldn't let you.

warning/s: again, the usual warnings that come with writing the Hunger Games stuff + potential suicidal themes.

author's note: this is the second and final part - i do hope you all like it. also i hope the person who requested it enjoys!!

one / masterlist / wattpad

Reaping Day was fast approaching, taking place next week, and I still wasn't sure what to do. I hadn't told Lucy Gray nor the Covey of Mayfair's plan, but it was killing me inside. After a lot of thought, I soon made a decision. The only thing I was certain about was that I couldn't allow Lucy Gray to have her life stolen away, not when mine was right there for the taking. So, I was going to take her place. As long as the Capitol had their tribute, they wouldn't care who it was.

But Lucy Gray would. She'd never allow it, never be so selfish as to let someone else volunteer to die for her. But I could never let her go up there to die, so with that in mind, I concocted the perfect plan to keep her alive.

The night before the reaping arrived, I'd managed to convince Lucy Gray to let me sleep over at hers, claiming I was worried and wanted to feel safe on an otherwise horrible evening. Of course, she fell for it instantly, only reminding me of how right I was to do this. She was too sweet for her own good, especially to me.

The rest of the Covey were in their rooms preparing for bed when I returned from the kitchen to Lucy Gray's room with two glasses of water.

"Here," I said, passing her the glass before taking a seat on my makeshift bed on the floor beside her actual bed.

"Thanks," she said, before taking a sip. She pulled a face and looked at her glass. "Does that taste weird to you?"

I sipped my own water and played dumb, shaking my head. "It's alright to me."

She furrowed her brows, "Huh," before downing the rest of it and putting it next to her bed.

I told myself that slipping some of my dad's crushed sleeping pills in her water was for her own good, that it needed to happen to keep her safe, but a small part of me still felt guilty for tricking her like this. I needed her to sleep in though, to miss the reaping, or at least miss the part where they call her name. After all, she couldn't stop me from volunteering if she wasn't there to witness it happen.

We both laid down in our beds, getting comfortable under our duvets. In the quiet of the evening, I could hear Tam Amber snoring from next door and smiled to myself at the familiarity. It would be the last I'd hear of it, ever.

"I don't have a good feelin' about tomorrow," Lucy Gray said quietly, earning my attention.

"Huh?"

She sounded cautious. "Something is tellin' me Mayfair has something' up her sleeve." I widened my eyes slightly, wondering if she knew what I did, but then she let out a deep, tired sigh and said, "I can't wait for it to be over."

I frowned to myself. "Me too."

She yawned, and I knew I didn't have long before she'd fall asleep, which meant I only had so much time left with her before I'd never speak to her again. That thought alone brought tears to my eyes.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm glad you've been my friend, Lucy Gray," I said honestly.

"Shut up," she said lightheartedly, an echo of a laugh present in her tired voice. "You're already sayin' goodbye and nothin' has happened."

"You never know," I said, glad that it was dark so she couldn't see me, because I wasn't sure I could say all this to her face. "Just listen, okay? I need you to know that I love you and I couldn't have asked for a better person in my life. Thank you for always being there for me. For caring."

"I love you, too," she said between a yawn, "more than you know, darlin'. And I'll tell you again tomorrow mornin', when we're still together. Idiot."

A smile formed on my lips at her teasing, but the tears slipped from my eyes because I was going to miss her so much, so much more than she would ever know.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, too, for bein' here right now," she said, though she was already slipping away, voice slowing down between each word.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Always."

She chuckled, or an attempt at a chuckle in her exhausted state. "I'll hold you to that," she said jokingly, before yawning again. "Mmm super tired. G'night..."

"Goodnight, Lucy Gray."

When I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes the next morning, I looked over at Lucy Gray and saw her fast asleep in bed. I tried to wake her, but she didn't budge, and I prayed that it would stay that away until the reaping was over.

Quickly getting ready, I could hear the others doing the same in the house. And then a succession of knocks was heard on Lucy Gray's door and Barb Azure poked her head in.

"Y/N, Lucy Gray, we've gotta–" she started, but stopped when she saw Lucy Gray still in bed. "For goodness sake, Lucy Gray, we're gonna be late! You've got–"

"I'll get her up and out of here, don't worry," I reassured Barb Azure with a nod and smile. "We'll meet you in the square."

Relieved, she nodded. "Okay, good. Good luck."

I smiled appreciatively before watching her leave, and then my smile faded and I focused on finishing getting ready. After pulling on my shoes and tying up my hair, I looked over at Lucy Gray who was still out like a light, unbothered by the noise or the daylight. She was lying on her side, duvet half covering her, and her curly hair sprawled across her pillow and in her eyes. I leaned down, moving the loose strand behind her ear, before taking in her appearance once more.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, not that it would have made a difference. "I love you, Lucy Gray, and I know you're gonna be angry and upset at first, but you'll get over it. You'll get over me. The Covey, they– they need you."

Swallowing hard and holding back my tears, sick of crying, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up and sucking up a deep breath. Pulling the duvet on her a little more, I forced myself to turn and leave, not wanting to linger any longer.

By the time I reached the square, everyone eligible for the reaping was already lined up in order of age. Just as I was about to join them, Barb Azure, who was nineteen and no longer to be considered, caught my gaze and sent me a questioning look.

'She's there', I mouthed, lying, and pointing to the lined up teens.

She didn't seem to understand, but it didn't matter because a Peacekeeper was already yelling orders at me, and then I was shoved into line and the mayor was telling everybody to quieten down. After his usual spiel about the importance of the Games, no doubt a script given to him from the Capitol, he began to dig his hand into a bag of slips with everyone's names on it. Yanking it out, he barely glanced at it before announcing what I feared.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird."

Murmurs flew around instantly, everyone looking around to find her, and I thanked my stars that she was safely asleep back home.

"Lucy Gray Baird," the mayor repeated, only intensifying the murmurs and leaving everyone confused. That was my chance.

Raising my hand, I said in the most confident voice I could muster, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Nobody knew what to do, but all eyes were on me, including the stupid cameras the Capitol brought with them, televising the whole thing. The mayor seemed surprised because it was absolute insanity that somebody would volunteer – why would you want to die?

The Peacekeepers took a moment to jump into action, eventually guiding me to the stage as they were supposed to. I passed Billy Taupe on the way, who was looking awfully guilty for someone who was once family to the Covey, and then I passed Mayfair, who was silently raging at the sight of her plans falling to pieces.

Once I stepped onstage and turned around, I caught sight of the Covey scattered in the crowd, between those that were potential tributes and those that were too old/young to take part. They seemed shocked, but I found Barb Azure's eyes and smiled a little, offering a reassuring nod. I hoped she would understand.

Lastly, my eyes found my father's, a struggle at first, considering he was tucked away at the back, forced to be present but not wanting to be. He seemed surprised at my volunteering and, for a split second, I thought he cared. But his actions remain still and I know it was probably just good riddance for him, nothing more.

I didn't expect anything less.

Only when I was on the train, being carted away to my death with the other twenty-three tributes, did I feel complete and utter relief for Lucy Gray. She was truly safe, free from the Games for another year at least, which was more than I could ask for. And maybe Mayfair would get over her vendetta by then, who knew?

Of course, now that the relief had settled in, it didn't take long for it to be replaced by concern because now I was in the Games. And I had no plan, no strategy, nothing.

After the Games...

I wasn't sure how I managed it, but I'd won. I'd really done the impossible, and barely a week later, I found myself on a train back to District Twelve with a little money and a broken arm, but otherwise alive.

Even though I'd expected to die, winning never really being an option, my survival instincts kept kicking in and I just kept getting lucky. And now here I was.

I could never forget what I'd witnessed during the Games, ever, and I wasn't sure if it was worth winning if it meant I would be haunted by all I'd experienced. But I couldn't argue with it because I was finally returning home and I didn't know what to think. It had only been a week, but I'd left a girl and was returning a murderer.

After the train pulled into the station, I was on my own and didn't even think about where my feet were taking me until I found myself walking through the Seam, back to my house. I was relieved to find my dad was at work, not in the mood to face him after all this time. I wasn't sure if anybody even knew I was alive, that I'd won, considering nobody here even had a working TV.

After all I'd endured in the Games, my father was the least of my worries. I refused to be pushed around by him anymore and knew I was going to leave as soon as I could. Even if it meant camping outside, living on the streets, I'd go. I'd figure something out, but for now, I was just lucky to be able to see my bedroom again.

As I sat on my lumpy bed and breathed a sigh of relief, I thought of the Covey, and then of Lucy Gray. Oh, how I'd missed her dearly. She was the only thought I'd had this past week, all of this being for her in the first place. I was just glad she hadn't had to endure everything I had. The guilt and shame of my actions to bring me where I was now was eating away at me, but I would have rather it been me than her.

I missed her, so so much. And I knew I couldn't wait any longer, so I immediately got up and headed straight for their house. It wasn't far from my own, though there's was much closer to the woods. When I approached, I saw Maude Ivory and Tam Amber sat outside, the former milking her goat and the latter planting some flowers. It was Maude Ivory who did a double take first, before she shouted my name and immediately ran up to me, startling me with an intense hug.

It had felt like forever since I'd had any human affection, and I couldn't help but return her hug with a relieved smile, missing her.

"I can't believe you're back!" she was saying, as the others soon began to join one by one, hugging me tightly.

"You really won!"

"We saw you on the TV one night, we were so scared."

"Thank you for volunteerin', you saved our Lucy Gray's life."

I could barely keep up with their compliments, unsure how to respond, but touched that they cared enough to be here.

And then I saw Lucy Gray, finally, as she walked out from the back door of the house, mouth agape when she noticed me. My eyebrows raised a little, hopeful, upon seeing her again. It hadn't been long, and yet it had felt like forever since I'd last seen her.

Barb Azure began to motion to the others to follow her back inside. "Let's give them some space, everyone."

They began to leave, doing just that, and without their presence, I suddenly felt exposed before Lucy Gray. I straightened up, trying to look a little more presentable, but acutely self conscious of my black eye, scarred lip and broken arm.

"Hey," I said, embarassed at how quiet it came out.

She stopped before me, watching me like I was a ghost. "You're really here."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't think I would be, but somehow, I won."

But it wasn't somehow, was it? I knew what I did to win.

She suddenly frowned, looking betrayed. "You drugged me."

Realising she was upset, I said, "It was only a sleeping pill."

Her stare hardened. "You knew. You knew it was going to be my name."

I cowered away slightly, saying, "I overheard–"

"You lied to me," she cut me off, "drugged me, volunteered like a fool and–"

"It couldn't be you," I told her sternly. "You're needed here. They need you and I couldn't let you be chosen because of some silly feud, not when I found out. It had to be me. Nobody would miss me and–"

"I would!" she shouted, and I realised her eyes were full of tears as she glared at me. "You asshole, I would! I did! I needed you! You don't get to trick me and make that choice for me and just leave!"

I felt horribly guilty as she spoke, but deep down, I didn't regret my actions.

"Lucy Gray, you would've gotten over me," I said calmly, looking between her eyes. "You would've."

She narrowed her eyes with a glare. "Fuck you."

"Lucy–"

"No, fuck you!" she yelled, shoving me backwards. "You don't get to say that! Like you know how I feel about you!"

I pressed my lips together, feeling my heart ache as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Fuck you," she murmured, before turning around and storming away, past the house and towards the meadow.

I frowned, watching her leave and feeling immense guilt pressing on my chest. I'd never seen her so upset, not in all the time I'd known her, and knowing I was the reason for it only made this whole thing worse.

Barb Azure left the house and approached me with an apologetic frown on her lips.

"I heard what happened," she said sympathetically. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"We're all grateful for what you did," she said. "She is, too. A small part. But mostly, she's upset because she grieved you. Tried to, at least. She thought you were dead."

"I was supposed to be, if it helps," I mumbled. "I didn't think I'd be coming back here, facing her like this."

It was supposed to be a faceless goodbye. She wasn't supposed to see me again, nor I her. Now, I'd only made things worse.

"She missed you so much," Barb Azure told me knowingly. "She's angry and stubborn, but she missed you, Y/N. Go to her."

I looked up, seeing the encouraging smile on her lips, and figured if anyone knew Lucy Gray more than she did, it was her family. So, with that slight positivity in mind, I followed in the direction of Lucy Gray with hope to fix this. It didn't take long for me to find her in the meadow, sat by her favourite tree and hunched over, crying into her hands.

I tried to approach quietly, but she noticed and suddenly stood up, turning around to glare at me through her tears.

"What do you want? Go away!" she ordered.

I ignored her, taking a step forward, and she only yelled at me more.

"I said go away! I don't wanna speak to you right now!"

Again, I ignored her and continued to approach her.

"Leave me alone, you asshole! I said leave!"

I hugged her before she could protest even more, my good arm tightening around her shoulders desperately, and then she finally stopped shouting and hugged me back just as tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill because I never thought I'd see her again, let alone hug her like my life depended on it.

"I'm sorry," I said into her shoulder. "I'm sorry a million times over, Lucy Gray. I never wanted to hurt you, but I don't regret what I did. I'd volunteer every single time."

She gripped my shirt in response, but didn't say anything. I swallowed hard before pulling away reluctantly, meeting her eyes with regret.

"I'm a fool, I know," I agreed with her words from before. "I'm sorry."

Her lip quivered as her eyes darted around my face, taking it in, fixating on the bruise and my scarred lip. She lifted her hand, touching my cheek tenderly, and my breath was caught in my throat at the attention.

"It weren't supposed to be you," she whispered with a broken voice.

"Nor you," I reminded her. "Mayfair cheated."

She shook her head, frowning and meeting my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't get involved, Y/N."

I exhaled through my nose, a sad smile on my lips. "I couldn't help it."

She didn't say anything, simply stared at me, and then she took a seat on the log next to the tree and I joined her, unsure what to do or say.

"I can't believe you're here," she admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her eyes flickered between mine thoughtfully, before lowering to my broken arm in a sling. "How did it happen?"

I looked down at it, hesitating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said quickly, regretfully, but I shook my head.

"No, it's–" I paused, frowning shamefully. "It's how I won."

She grabbed my hand suddenly, making me look up at her.

"You don't have to tell me," she reassured with a nod.

I looked down at her hand on mine, nerves creeping in. "You wanna know, but... you won't look at me the same. And I don't want to lose you."

"Whatever you did in that arena isn't a reflection of who you are," she said with such a determination that I almost believed her. "It was life or death. And if it meant you're here now, alive, then I don't care."

I closed my eyes, nodding. "You're right. I– you're right."

She was patient, to my relief, and it took a moment for me to find my words.

"I'd spent most of the Games hiding," I began to tell her, comforted by the warmth of her hand in mine. "I avoided confrontation where I could, but one kid, he– he cornered me and had a knife. Managed to cut my lip... I disarmed him and ran with it. Used it to defend myself, injuring whoever got in my way, but never killing. I couldn't– I couldn't do that..."

...I was running, one of the others having found me in the tunnels and chasing me out into the open where they could no doubt kill me with ease. My lungs were screaming for air, burning with each step I took, but I kept pushing myself until I was in the stands. The other tribute followed me though, carrying a spear and swinging it my way.

I avoided each swing, knife in hand but myself unable to do anything with it, not without getting in close. And then they swung again, making me dodge, and slammed the blunt end of their spear into my back, pushing me over the edge of the stands and to the ground below with a loud crack. I would have a screamed at the unbearable pain from my arm, but I'd slammed my head onto the ground, leaving me dazed.

My vision was spinning and my arm was throbbing and I didn't know what was what, but then I heard someone's feet land behind me and I knew I had to play dead, my last chance at surviving. Through one open eye, I could see footsteps approaching, but also the glint of my knife which had dropped beside me during the fall. I stayed still, practically holding my breath as the other tribute leaned down to check if I was alive. And before they could try to turn me over, I grabbed the knife and stabbed the first thing I could touch.

Only when I heard the sounds of gurgling did I look to see what I'd done. My knife was lodged into their neck, their pleading eyes begging mine as I scrambled back out of fear, watching them die a slow and painful death without meaning to. I was certain I could never un-hear those noises, or un-see their death...

Tears wet my face when I finished telling Lucy Gray the story, and I was trembling slightly as the memories flashed in my head.

"I didn't want to," I told her, shaking my head guiltily. "I didn't. But it was the only way. The only way to be done. I– I'm not a murderer. I'm not. I'm–"

She pulled me in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "It's okay. It's okay, Y/N."

I cried into her shoulder, but it didn't make me feel any better. I'd murdered someone, and now I'd live with the reminder forever.

"You did what you had to do," she tried to console me, but I knew it wasn't entirely true.

It wasn't over, not really. I'd see their faces everywhere, forever.

"I wish you didn't have to do that," she said after a moment, pulling away but holding my hand between hers. "And I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking my place, even though I didn't want you to. You saved my life. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of your own."

She kissed my cheek before hugging me again, sighing contently.

"By the way, if you ever try to tell me how I feel, I'll kill you myself," she muttered into my shoulder. "I'm not losing you, ever."

I stayed quiet, wrapping my arm around her instead. I knew I'd do this all again if it meant she was safe. But she wouldn't understand.

By the time word spread about my 'triumph' in the Games and return to District Twelve, I'd already moved out of my dad's place. He barely uttered a word to me, neither did he try stopping me. I wasn't sure if it was because he knew what I was capable of, or if he'd just been waiting for me to leave, but it was easier than I'd imagined.

My only choices were being homeless, moving into the community home full of kids with no parents or staying with the Covey. Naturally, it was easy to choose the latter, especially when Lucy Gray insisted I stayed with them.

It was easy at first, easier than I expected, to make myself at home and try to continue my life as it once was before the Games. I went back to work as soon as possible, even with one arm broken, did as many shifts as I could before the summer ended and I'd be back at school with less time to make money and afford food. I accompanied the Covey to the Hob, helping them prepare for their sets and encouraging people to donate money for their performances. It was almost normal.

But at night, that was when I couldn't seem to escape the true reality of what I'd been through. I'd fall asleep, no problem, and then my nightmares would feature different versions of the Games, bloody kills of the other tributes, the knot of fear in my chest expanding until I woke up in cold sweats and with wet eyes.

I couldn't tell anybody, especially not the Covey or Lucy Gray. I couldn't be a burden to them, not after all they'd done for me, but it was getting unbearable. The faces, they wouldn't stop haunting me. And the scar on my lip that wasn't fading only seemed to serve as a permanent reminder, frightening me because maybe I would never escape it. Maybe I'd suffer forever, a consequence of winning.

It happened again, tonight, and I woke with a start, eyes shooting open and mistaking the shadow on the ceiling for a predator in the dark. It took me a moment to remember where I was, what was real. Lucy Gray's bedroom. I was in the bed they'd set up for me, opposite hers, and the curtains were drawn, casting a ghastly blue glow around the room.

Wiping my eyes, I moved my legs over the side of the bed and glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was sound asleep. I was careful not to wake her as I slipped into some shoes and left the room, practicing the same caution as I left the house completely and sat outside on the garden furniture. The fresh air did much better to wake me up, reminding me where I was, and I simply sat there under the dark sky, trying to collect myself.

It was always the same. Some nights were worse than others, like tonight, where I'd be forced to step outside for some fresh. Other nights I could just brush it off and force myself to sleep. Would it ever get better?

I wasn't sure how long passed, but I heard the back door of the house opening and turned around, ready to apologise to whoever I'd woken. To my surprise, it was Lucy Gray.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," I said quickly, straightening up. "I can go back in. I–"

"Stop," she said softly, before taking a seat on the chair next to me, eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed thickly, unable to hold her stare.

"I've tried to give you space," she said, the fatigue laced in her voice. "Since you've been here. I've seen you leave in the middle of the night... I'm worried, Y/N. Talk to me. Please."

Embarrassed I'd been caught out, I tried to reassure her. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

She scoffed quietly. "Are we not close enough that you shouldn't lie to me?"

I glanced at her, sighing when I saw the worry looking back at me.

"It's the Games, isn't it?" she asked carefully. "You're dreamin' of them."

I didn't trust my voice, so I could only nod weakly. She tensed her jaw slightly before moving her chair closer to me and pulling me in for a side hug. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she squeezed comfortingly, and I melted under her touch.

"Wake me when it happens," she encouraged. "It's not nice bein' alone when you've just had a nightmare."

"I'm not doing that," I started, a million reasons on the tip of my tongue for why I wouldn't subject her to that, but she cut me off pleadingly.

"Please. It'll make me feel better, knowin' I can at least be with you. Knowin' you're not alone. That I can help."

I didn't reply, unsure I could agree when I knew I just couldn't do it.

"I'm gonna push the beds together if you don't," she added, lightheartedly but with a touch of concern still present.

Nonetheless, it brought a smile to my lips and I exhaled sharply through my nose, a sad attempt at a laugh. "Okay."

She squeezed my shoulder in response and then straightened up, offering me a tired smile. "Come on."

"What?"

"You're not goin' back to sleep, clearly, so let's go," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

"Go where?" I asked, though let her lead me out of the garden.

"The lake, duh."

I didn't fight it and let her tug me along, walking down to the lake. It was quiet out, especially between us, and the mindless task of walking through the woods with her hand in mine gave me something else to focus on other than my nightmares.

When we reached the lake, we took a seat at the edge of the dock again, just like last time.

"No midnight swims, please," I warned her playfully, and she laughed quietly.

"I promise," she muttered, before looking out at the water.

My eyes took in her profile for a moment, following the slope of her nose, the point of her cupid's bow, the curve of her lips... even in the dark, with only a minuscule of moonlight casting shadows across her face, she was stunning. I wondered if she knew the effect she could have on me just by being here.

"Thank you," I said, unable to keep my gratitude in for much longer. "For everything."

She rolled her eyes playfully, continuing to look ahead. "Oh, shut up."

I furrowed my brows. "Huh?"

She gave me a disapproving glance. "After all that's happened, you don't need to thank me."

"I do," I said simply, and she rolled her eyes again.

"Seriously, shut up before I make you."

Knowing I wouldn't win this one, I exhaled softly and looked away, eyes subconsciously tracing the shimmers of light in the still water.

"Why did you do it?" Lucy Gray suddenly asked, playfulness gone.

"What?"

She paused. I wasn't sure she'd continue, and then she said, "Volunteer." I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off, adding, "And don't say it's because nobody would miss you. You knew that I would have. So, why?"

I pressed my lips together firmly, suddenly feeling warm. It was such an easy question, with an even easier answer. But I couldn't bring myself to say it for the same reason I'd never told her. I was a coward. But didn't she deserve to know the truth? Didn't I deserve to finally come clean? To lift this weight from my shoulders?

My heart was thumping ever so loudly for the girl next to me. I'd faced life or death situations, surely I could do this.

"Y/N?" she prompted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips, gaze focused on the darkness ahead. "I'm in love with you."

The silence was deafening, unlike before when it was welcomed. Not even a gasp or a slight movement from beside me betrayed her reaction, her surprise. I was too paralysed with fear of rejection to look at her. Instead, I stayed put, certain I'd be stuck there in that moment forever, never hearing a response. But then finally:

"I thought that was it. I just had to hear you say it."

My jaw tensed as I digested her words, eyes still fixated on the water. She knew? This whole time, she knew?

"I love you too," she murmured, and in my peripheral, I could see her staring ahead also. "That's why I hated that you did it."

Unable to act cowardly any longer, I forced myself to look to her. She did the same, knocking the breath from me when her dark eyes met mine. It was horribly intimidating, even though she was doing nothing different. Except now she knew. She finally knew. And I knew that she knew. And that was different enough to terrify me.

"Never again," she muttered. "You have to promise me and actually keep it."

And just like that, I was reminded why I'd volunteered in the first place. Coward or not, it was only ever for her.

"I can't," I admitted.

She scrunched her face with hurt. "And why not?"

I grimaced. "I just told you why."

A frown appeared on her lips, jaw clenching in annoyance. Her eyes flickered between mine defiantly, and I knew I was upsetting her again.

"I'm sorry," I said, tilting my head.

"I hate you," she said lowly.

I shook my head, holding her intense gaze. "Not according to what you just said."

Her lips curled inwards, frustrated, and after one last glance, she leaned forward and kissed me hard. My eyes fluttered close as she caressed my cheek, holding me close. I slipped my uninjured arm around her waist, revelling in her warmth and the softness of her lips. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. The only kiss, yes, but one I'd never want to compete with.

When we pulled apart, her hand was still on my cheek, and mine still on her waist, and I worried that if I opened my eyes, something would go wrong. That this would all be a dream.

"You should've told me sooner," she murmured, lips ghosting mine.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, instantly submerged in hers. "Not everyone can speak their mind as confidently as you can, Lucy Gray."

She licked her lips, drawing my gaze to them yet again. "I can't always. Clearly."

I looked down, shaking my head slightly. "I couldn't."

Her thumb stroked my cheek tenderly. "Not even after? When you came home?"

It was hilarious, how easy she made it all sound. I raised an eyebrow at her, trying not to smile. "You don't know how you make me feel, do you?" Her expression softened, and I continued, "Imagine standing on the edge of a cliff. Then jumping off."

"Scared?" she asked, growing worried, but I shook my head.

"Free," I corrected, growing warm at my honesty, it coming way too easily for once. "And that in itself is scary, isn't it? But scary in a good way. I– I've never felt like that before."

She exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're not so bad at speaking your mind, it seems."

I breathed out through my nose, mirroring her smile. Her thumb outlined my lips lightly, tracing my scar, and then resting on my cheek again. She was thoughtful, eyes staring at my face, but distant.

"That feeling you described," she started, voice smooth and comforting, "it goes both ways."

I wondered how it could. I'd never imagined myself giving her a similar comfort, nor her feeling so strongly about me as I did with her. But then she kissed me again, and I didn't need to think about it anymore.

[celiciaa]

GILBERT VON OBSIDIAN EVENT STORY....

MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE, HIS SIDE STORY.

translations are not 100% accurate. expect mistakes.

trigger warning: suggestive, violence.

MINORS DNI.

Birthdays always come every year as long as I’m alive, even if I don't want to.

━━FLASHBACK━━

Albert: Happy birthday, Gil.

Mother: I'm glad you were able to age properly this year. I feel like I'm about to cry.

━━

Aristocrat: Happy birthday, Lord Gilbert.

Aristocrat: I hope you liked the surprise party I prepared for you.

(Stop….)

━━

Albert: Look, I got that academic book you wanted.

Albert: It's really amazing how you can understand such a difficult book, you're a genius. // You're really amazing to understand such a difficult book, you're a genius.

Mother: I made some new clothes.

Mother: I'm sure you'll grow out of it soon, so please let me make you a new outfit for your birthday.

━━

Aristocrat: Of course, we also have prepared many presents.

Aristocrat: All of us present here would like to offer our heartfelt blessings to His Highness——

(…Stop.)

━━

Albert: I'm sure Gil will grow up to be a good man every time he celebrates his birthday.

Mother: Hehe, look forward to it. But the most important thing is for you to live.

Mother: Happy birthday to you many, many times, Gil.

━━

Aristocrat for embezzlement: Congratulations.

Aristocrat for theft: Congratulations, Lord Gilbert.

Aristocrat for murder: My sincerest congratulations, Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: ——….Hehe, thank you. But I don't need that.

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Lord Gilbert?

Gilbert: I'm feeling sleepy today, so I'm heading back. Good night.

Gilbert: I'll see you on the execution site.

(Stop it…stop it, stop it.)

(I don't want those memories to be tarnished by the farce of those filthy aristocrats.)

━━

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Lord Gilbert, please forgive me!

Gilbert: Hm, what? You don't want to die in an instant?

Gilbert: If that's the case, I'll execute you myself. I'm not used to handling a sword yet….

Gilbert: I'm sure it will take a while, unlike the Emperor, but that's okay, right?

Aristocrat for the crime of human trafficking: Aa….aaAAAAAAHHH—!

Gilbert: Ahaha! What a shame. Everyone, take a good look.

Gilbert: This isn't someone else's business…yes?

(I don't need birthdays anymore.)

(It would be better for me to just disappear than be corrupted by those filthy aristocrats.)

(No one is allowed to celebrate my birthday.)

(Anyone who congratulates me will be killed without exception.)

(Roderich, Walter, all of them, without exception——)

━━FLASHBACK ENDS━━

Gilbert: Hey, hey, little rabbit. Do you know my birthday is almost close?

——One day when the snow started to fall, those words fell out of my mouth instinctively.

Emma: Huh, when is it!?

Gilbert: One week later.

Emma: Why didn't you tell me earlier!

Emma: What should I do…is it possible to prepare the ingredients for the cake now….

Gilbert: ….

(Why did I say that?)

(I thought I decided long ago not to let anyone celebrate my birthday.)

Emma: Is something wrong?

Gilbert: No, it's nothing.

(But I'm sure you….)

(….You wouldn't lie to me, would you?)

━━

Roderich: ——That was surprising.

On the way back to my room after my regular checkup, I found myself alone with Roderich and mumbled something.

Gilbert: Because I told her about my birthday?

Roderich: Yes. Me and the doctor are planning to celebrate….

Gilbert: No, I won't allow it.

Roderich: As expected.

Gilbert: Hehe, I thought I'd give the little rabbit a special chance.

Gilbert: I don't know how many more birthdays I will have. I thought it would be better not to have any regrets.

Roderich: It can be as many times as you want. Whether it's 10 years or 100 years.

Gilbert: I'm not immortal.

Gilbert: But, well, maybe I'm getting carried away this year. // But, maybe I'm just too excited this year.

Gilbert: ….I used to look forward to my birthday a lot, you know?

Gilbert: I wonder what kind of presents she will give me, and what kind of delicious food she’s preparing for me…..

Gilbert: When I'm with the little rabbit, I sometimes remember those feelings I had when I was a human.

Roderich: ….

Roderich, who was right beside me, had stopped walking.

When I approached him, his face which was hidden behind the hood remained downcast, and did not rise to look me in the eye.

Gilbert: Eh, I was just kidding. What are you crying about? That’s disgusting…..

Roderich: ….Even the doctor had teary eyes after your checkup.

Roderich: He said it’s been a while since he heard about your birthday at the obsidian castle….

Roderich: Lord Gilbert celebrated other people's birthdays, but was not happy to celebrate his own.

Gilbert: Ahaha, how honest, aren’t you? I don't know if the little rabbit will celebrate, after all the threats I’ve made.

Roderich: I wouldn't call that a threat.

Gilbert: Then what?

Roderich: It's just your way of saying that you’re looking forward to your birthday.

━━

(——I wonder if I'm that easy to understand.)

Until the day of my birthday, the little rabbit must have been in deep distress.

Her hands were shaking with nervousness as she baked the cake, and her expression was worrying.

Still, she ended up making a birthday cake for me.

It seems that even after hearing that someone was sent to the execution stand, her intentions did not change.

(I think she got the message that I was expecting her.)

Emma: ….This is just my speculation….

Emma: Lord Gilbert—— Gil, I don't think you want to celebrate your birthday.

Emma: You hate lies.

Emma: Because it was supposed to be a special and important day, you couldn't allow yourself to be defiled by corruption and deception.

Emma: …..That's what I thought.

Gilbert: Hehe…as expected of the little rabbit, who loves me so much.

(You’re spot on.)

(Honestly, I didn't think you could see through it that much, but I guess you can see into my heart.)

(…You are completely different from the rotten aristocrats.)

Gilbert: Are you really going to congratulate me?

Emma: Of course.

Gilbert: I've killed many people so far, and I might kill many more in the future.

Gilbert: I’ve sent someone to the execution stand after I celebrated my birthday before, and I'll do it again if anyone like that shows up in the future, you know?

Emma: …..

(…How cruel of me.)

I am by no means doubting Emma’s beautiful heart.

But after so many years of dealing with corruption and deceit, I am paranoid as a matter of habit.

It was also for self-defense, not wanting to be disappointed because I wanted a heartfelt celebration.

Emma: ….I see.

After a long silence, the little rabbit nodded.

Emma: Even if you have made the whole world your enemy, I will congratulate you.

Emma: I'm already a bad woman, so it's too late for that.

Emma: Please don't underestimate my love for you.

(….)

(…You're crying.)

Her eyes are slightly moist with determination, but she looks forward with dignity.

It was more beautiful than the memory of a birthday I once had, and it burned strongly in my mind.

Gilbert: ….Hehe, sorry. I was bullying you too much.

(I just want to be celebrated by you, but I don't feel safe unless I do this.)

(I'm so sorry, little rabbit.)

I stand in front of Emma and use my fingers to scoop up her tears that are about to fall.

(But I finally found someone to celebrate with.)

(I thought that once I fell into the beast, I would never be a part of it again….)

(…I feel like it's a kind of blessing that a great villain who killed a lot of people shouldn't enjoy…)

As I secretly close my aching heart, without warning, Emma puts her hand on my cheek and kisses me lightly.

Gilbert: What?

Emma: …I can't give you a cake right now, so here's an alternative gift for you.

(Really….I wonder how bare my heart is in front of you.)

Gilbert: That's a poor gift.

Emma: How about this?

The little rabbit puts her arms around my neck and takes a deeper kiss than before.

(…For a moment, I wondered if it was okay to be so happy despite being a big villain——)

(Well, if I’m the big villain, it's just enough for me to snatch away all the happiness that little rabbit gives me.)

(I never thought about it before…)

(Wouldn't it be nice to receive a little reward for living in a dirty world?)

My wavering heart hardened and I bit the little rabbit's lip.

When she froze in surprise, the first thing I did was pry her lips open with my fingers.

Making sure her tongue was out and I bit it to the extent that it didn't hurt, I placed my hand on Emma’s leg as she leaned on the table.

(Come to think of it, the little rabbit is wearing the outfit I made for her today.)

(…I'm sorry that you've been dyed by me.)

When I lifted the hem of her black dress and forced my fingers deep inside her, Emma’s face contorted in pain.

Emma: Gil…it hurts….

Gilbert: Yeah, on purpose.

Emma: Why….

Gilbert: Because you don't like pain, do you, little rabbit?

When I plunged her deep into the pit of her stomach with my fingers, her expression immediately turned lewd.

Gilbert: See, you looked like you were feeling good.

Gilbert: By the way, we’re in the kitchen. Are you going to stop me?

(I'm sure the little rabbit would resist more.)

The wet squelching sounds and her moans became more visible the moment I added two more fingers.

Emma: ….Just…for today….

Emma: No matter what Gil wants…if he wants to do it here, I’d take it all….

Gilbert: Because it's my birthday?

When I asked, the little rabbit brought my head close to her soft chest.

Emma: I do not…lie.

Emma: So...you can try it until you feel safe, Gil.

Emma: My celebration is from the bottom of my heart…my sincerest congratulations…

Emma: I will keep telling Gil, no matter how much it hurts, until he believes in me.

Gilbert: …..

Gilbert: Oh, no. I guess I've been found out.

(I feel like I can't hide anything in front of you.)

Emma: Gil is probably a lot easier to understand than I think.

Gilbert: I think those words can only be said because you are facing me head-on.

Gilbert: …It's really a pity that a troublesome man likes you so much.

(As long as you understand my intentions and wish me a happy birthday, I'll be fine.)

(I don't think I'll be betrayed by you.)

I stroked the little rabbit’s weak spot as a reward and to her response, she was trembling in pleasure.

(Birthdays are coming back again this year.)

(…Yeah. Maybe it’s not so bad.)

━━

Despite being bullied by the beast, the little rabbit somehow manages to finish the birthday cake and feed it to me.

The first birthday in a long time was filled with the warmth and tender feelings that had once been so natural to me.

Gilbert: Hehe…your heart is still beating, isn't it?

Emma: I can…hear your heartbeat too, Gil.

At the end of the celebration, we lie down on the bed, skin to skin, as if it were natural.

As I listened to the sound of the heartbeats coming from our chests,

The little rabbit placed her hand on my back and I felt a slight pain.

(Ah—…. I guess it's a scratch from when I held you earlier.)

The little rabbit’s face turned apologetic the moment she noticed my expression.

Emma: …I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.

Gilbert: I don’t mind. I like being hurt by you too.

Gilbert: You could have left bite marks as well as scratches.

When I run my fingers down her delicate arm, there are clear bite marks.

(Hehe, it must have hurt a lot. The little rabbit cried many times)

(You're crazy because you still love me.)

(….Well, I don't think any sane person could ever love me.)

Emma: It's hard to tell how much is too much or too little love Gil.

Gilbert: Then, let's learn it sometime soon. How about by next year's birthday?

Emma: I hope…you will let me celebrate again next year.

Gilbert: Who knows? It's up to you whether it’ll be your last or your first.

Gilbert: If you love me a lot, I might change my mind...okay?

Emma: ….

Gilbert: It’s just...my celebration this year wasn't unpleasant.

Gilbert: ….Thank you.

Emma: …..

(It's like I'm getting back one of my forgotten emotions.)

The more time I spend with the little rabbit, the more things I once let go of may gradually come back to me.

It is a frightening yet happy thing.

Emma: So…next time, how about we celebrate with Mr. Roderich and Mr. Walter?

Emma: I'm sure both of them really want to congratulate you, Lord Gilbert.

Gilbert: That’s not allowed.

(I'm sure those two want to celebrate my birthday….)

Gilbert: I don't need other people's congratulations. As long as I have yours, that's all that matters.

Gilbert: Because you're the only one I love.

When I said this clearly, the little rabbit looked embarrassed and shy.

(…You're so cute.)

Emma: Gil…I forgot to mention the most important thing.

Gilbert: Hm?

Emma: Happy birthday.

Emma: I'll give you lots of love…so please let me celebrate with you again next year.

(…So many reasons I can’t die like this.)

(I'm at a loss. But since it's a request from my beloved rabbit, I can't resist.)

Gilbert: Hehe, I understand. I'll let you celebrate as long as you are.

Gilbert: Keep loving the beast with your pure heart, just as you are…got it?

(So please. Don't you just disappear like those two.)

(As long as I'm alive, you have to make sure you celebrate my birthday every year…okay?)

[pookiebeary]

Go Little Spider

Spiderperson! Reader in Gotham

Gn!Reader x Batfam(?)

Heavily inspired by "Peter the Pizza Guy" and "Dark Matter" in AO3

ATSV spider-reader

Part 1 | Next

You're Spider-Kid, sidekick and protégé of the late amazing Spider-Man. It didn't take long before Miguel O'hara and his band of spiderpeople recruited you in their little elite force after you took the mantle of your late mentor.

It also didn't take long for you to realize how despite the so-called elite force consisting of all the other variants of your late mentor- they all seemed to fail at being the one thing they claimed to be. They all failed the one golden rule Spider-Man lived by. You couldn't believe your ears when you heard about the Arachno-Humanoid Poly-Multiverse and canon events. Allowing some people to die because that's their fate? That was some messed up shit. You couldn't sit by idly knowing their destiny was to die, so you did what your Spider-Man would've done; you broke the canon.

Well, more like tried to.

You had planned to save the Gwen Stacy of this universe (because you're not going to let another version of your mentor go through the pain he did), but of course you were caught before you could save her from the fall. A great force tackled you and broke your grip as you climbed the tower of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The sweet and tangy smell of iron fills your mouth when you're thrown from the tower and far off against the incoming metro. A pained groan escapes your lips upon impact and you feel an unbearable ache on your chest when you try to get up. You take your ripped mask off for a breather and spit out the blood from your chapped lips. You manage to sit up after gritting through the pain- you've been through worse, you mutter to yourself.

"Stop whatever you're trying to do, kid. You can't risk breaking the canon." You heard the familiar and condescending voice of Miguel warning you, but his words only further infuriated you.

A look of disbelief flashes over you and you feel your anger getting the better of you,"You're telling me… that I'm just supposed to let them die because that's their fate? How could you..?"

" HOW COULD ALL OF YOU?!" You bark at the other spiderpeople in the surrounding.

" And we're supposed to be the good guys?! Spider-Man would never let someone die just because that's their fate!!" You let out a faint sardonic laugh, "If this is what it means to be Spider-man, then I want out. "

The other Spider-people, the other versions of the Peter you know tenses at your words; you're going rogue. You narrow your eyes at them, they look like a younger version of Peter you know but they could never live up to yours.

"It's not like that, kiddo," You hear one of them tell you in a disappointed tone.

You couldn't believe that all of them gave in so easily as you gave them an even more menacing glare, "So all of you are fine with letting innocent people die because that's their fate? Because some fucking simulation said so?! You're all fine with that??"

They all shuffled and looked at each other as if they've only just started thinking that maybe- maybe they were wrong. If looks could kill, you'd be six feet under with the way Miguel looks at you but you could say the same for him. If looks could kill, he'd be six feet under too.

As the group of spiderpeople seemed to hesitate, you quickly take advantage of this opening to make a run for it before Miguel could bark out another order. You speed along the metro to put some distance between you and your pursuers, bearing through the pain on your legs and chest as you keep running.

"Fine." Miguel gruffly replies, his eyes glaring with a menacing red hue as he starts chasing after you like a feral animal.

Curiously, you took a quick peek behind you and the sight almost made you wet your pants. He looked like he was out for blood with the way he was running on all fours and snarling at you-

Well you weren't wrong. Miguel was out for blood and you found out the hard way when he managed to web you, pulling you backwards as you tumbled from the sudden force. He then grabbed your head and smashed you against the ground mercilessly, leaving a crater in its wake from the sheer force. Blood trickled down your head and nose as you start seeing black spots dance around your vision.

You hear the other Peter speak up to defend you on your behalf as you struggle to get up with ringing ears and a few bones you were sure are broken.

"Go home (Name)." He commands ever so sternly as if he hadn't just incapacitated you. He towers over you as he holds a tight grip on your wrist where your interdimensional watch rests. As he's about to take your watch away, you remember you've tampered with the watch before and set a contingency plan in case this rogue act of yours went wrong. Not that said contingency plan was complete yet but something's better than nothing.

Immediately, you pressed the special switch you've installed in your watch and Miguel's surprise is clear as you start glitching and fading away.

"Fuck you." You spat before kicking him away, taking advantage of his surprise and jumping to the ominously glitching dimensional rift that suddenly appeared behind you.

***

[follows-the-bees]

Let's talk about "doggy heaven" and "he was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying."

This is the moment that Izzy realizes that he doesn't know Ed the best. That Ed and Stede talked about everything, that Ed trusted Stede beyond Izzy's imagination. He always felt like he knew Ed the best. He fell in love with Blackbeard, with the persona of Blackbeard, with being first mate to Blackbeard. He was above the crew and always by Ed's side no matter what. Even when he calls Ed crazy and when he turns toxic. He fed Blackbeard.

But Izzy realized that Ed as the Kraken was too much. That his love for Ed was not returned the way he wanted, that the man he loved was no longer there. And the crew come to him, comfort him. And Izzy switches sides, he is now on the side of the crew. (And possibly first mate to Stede in the future.)

This moment when Izzy and Stede talk for the first time one-on-one is when the illusion drops again. And Con conveys it so well. The realization, the heartbreak, the bafflement.

Izzy tried to explain to Stede how far gone Ed was, but Stede replies with wisdom. "He was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying." And Izzy stops trying to explain, switches tones and tactics. He realizes that Stede (to a certain extent) does understand.

Then when Izzy finally tells him the partial truth of what happened, he doesn't get yelled at; instead Stede responds with "you sent him to doggy heaven."

To Stede, this is an innocent statement. It's him using what he thinks is a pirate term, but to Izzy. To Izzy, it's the fucking world crashing. And Con's performance is beautiful.

Because this can mean two things. One, Izzy realizing and semi dealing with what happened. That they supposedly put Ed down. But he knows he can't do that, says it aloud. Two, that Stede understands what and why it happened.

But it also is the moment Izzy realizes that Stede actually knows Ed. That Ed talked to Stede, trusted him, even more than he trusted Izzy. Stede knows the term, so he knows the plan to kill him.

There is the underlying story of the truth of the kraken, that Izzy doesn't know, but the audience does and makes that connection.

Izzy has to reassess everything that he's thought, that happened not only over the past months but years, decades.

And then in the jail cell, he still provokes Stede. Probably from his own guilt and this realization of how well Stede knew Ed & how he (Izzy) ultimately didn't know as much. Wasn't allowed to those recesses of Ed's mind and feelings.

But instead of anger, or Stede talking a lot, he gets silence, and a look of heartbreak. Izzy can't hold back tears.

Then Stede comes back, with a plan to save the crew. Unlike Ed, Stede is holding it together, he is putting the crew first. A thing that Izzy just learned to do in many ways. And Stede's plan works, the crew escapes, and that includes Izzy.

He sees the real Stede now, not the threat to his way of life, to the person he loves, but the Stede that Ed and the crew have defended, saved, trust. Stede changed all of them into better people. People that talked to Izzy, hugged him, comforted him, didn't kill him but kept him hidden and alive.

And Izzy tries to thank Stede (at the worst time of course) but season one Izzy would have never done that.

Izzy is part of the crew now with Stede as the captain.

He had to learn so much in such a short conversation.

Izzy couldn't save Ed, not alone, Izzy's love was based on a facade, and that fed toxicity.

But Stede will save Ed. Can save Ed. Because Stede was privy to the real Ed coming out from the Blackbeard facade. To sides of him Izzy could never see.

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Hiya Sugar,

You’re the newest goodey-goodey in town, aren’t ya? What am I sayin’, of course ya are! I already knew that! In fact I know a lot about’cha, you’d be real surprised.

At first, I didn’t think too much about there being another vigilante running amuck. To me it was the usual same ol’, same ol’ in Gotham. It wasn’t until we had our very first run in that had me wanting to take a real good look into ya. I had been with my former crappy Puddin’ at the time and we were planning to cause some havoc for B-man, but you showed up first. That didn’t stop us from causin’ you some trouble too but you were really somethin’. A good kinda somethin’! You surpassed both mine and my ex-Puddin’s expectations by a long shot, putting us in our place real quick before B-man even made an appearance. But when he did finally roll around, my shitty ex had the audacity to use me as a distraction so he could getaway, puttin’ me in peril.

I’ll be honest I was worried there for a bit. Sure I was all laughs about it until it set in that my Puddin wasn’t gonna save me then the panic came. I mean hanging off a 70 story building by the tippy tips of ya fingers will do that to ya, ya’know? (To be honest, I don’t even know if it really was 70 stories but it sure as hell felt like it.) But then the most marvelous thing happened! My grip gave way and I was startin’ to fall only for an arm to shoot out and catch me!

Now, I was fully expecting B-man or one of his little birdies being the one who got to me but imagine my surprise when I was met with a new face. A really nice lookin’ face too! (At least from what I could tell.) Your grip on me was real strong and firm but it felt gentle all the same. Ya pulled me up and looked me all over for any serious damage, askin’ if I was alright. You didn’t manhandle or be too rough with me whatsoever. In fact you were real gingerly in checking me over. You also weren’t yellin’ or shoutin’ at me either, instead you were speaking slow and soft to me. I remember your voice bein’ real nice to listen to too. In that moment I realized you truly were somethin’ different, a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the heroes coming out of the woodworks in Gotham.

You were just so nice to me, even though we tried to kill ya and cause some psychological damage along the way (sort bout that by the way😅), but you were still worried about little ol’ me. I don’t even think B-man has ever been really genuinely concerned about my well-being before, at least not like you were, when my Puddin’s used me like a meat shield. If it weren’t for his no killing hangup he probably would have let me die plenty of times before. But you actually cared! I don’t know what exactly it was but somethin’ about ya that night made me feel all tingly and warm inside and I liked it. Then the next thing I knew you were gone chasing after B-man and my ex-Puddin’ leavin’ me feelin’ cold and alone. Ever since then I’ve been keepin’ a close eye on ya. Hell, I even dumped my Puddin’ right after that incident. Ya should have seen his face, thinkin’ I wasn’t serious only for him to come mopin’ around wantin’ me back. But I stood my ground. Besides, I already had my eye on somethin’ better. Or rather someone better.

Like I said before, I’ve been keepin’ my eye on ya since then and I’m so glad I did. Sure some people would call it “stalking” but I prefer to call it “closely admiring from a reasonable and legal distance”. Except those few times I did let myself into your place and took a peek around. I didn’t take anything though, at least nothing you’d notice but that’s not what’s important. What is important though is how much you’ve opened my eyes to new horizons beyond just stupid ol’ Joker and everything that has to do with him. I still do the odd crime here and there but they’re no way near the same extremes like they used to be. I only really do somethin’ bad when I know you’re on patrol and will for sure be the one to stop my shenanigans. Honestly, I just want the chance to see and talk to ya again. Don’t even get me started about all the times when I have caused mischief only for B-man or one of his birdies to be the one to show up instead of you. I’ve never felt so disappointed and upset before. All that time and effort only for some other big baddie or even a small petty criminal to take up your attention away from me. It really gets under my skin. Would I say I’m jealous though? Not really. Okay maybe a little but can ya blame me? After all this time I finally have somethin’ good in my life that’s gettin’ me to change perspective only to have to share it with others who have no intention on changin’ for anybody! They’re a waste of your time but I get that you gotta stick to your goodey-goodey schtick, that’s who ya are after all. But still it gets me feelin’ some type of way, and not in a good way either.

I can’t help that you’ve become something so prominent to me in such a short amount of time, although I know ya don’t know just how much ya truly mean to me. I’ve even started focusing on doing more good than bad, little by little ya’ know? Baby steps. You’re a good part of why I started leaning more towards being good but it was also due to another incident I got in. I won’t go into it but let’s just say it involved a lower criminal who just wouldn’t stop runnin’ his mouth about ya and I wasn’t havin’ any of it. I admit I may have gone a little overboard with getting my a point across but he deserved it. He had no right talkin’ about ya like that! Sure, he’ll probably never wake up from his coma and is in a permanent vegetative state but you can’t say he isn’t technically still alive. So at least I didn’t kill him kill him, right? Hey, what can I say this goodey stuff is still pretty new to me. At least I’m tryin’ my best. There was also some other stuff involved besides him bad mouthin’ ya but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was but I’m sure it also was well deserving of an ass kickin’.

Oh goodness gracious, look at me ramblin’ away as usual! Ya got that kind of affect on me, ya’know? But anyhoo, I should really end this letter before I start spillin’ all my beans. I need to keep some secrets to myself after all. But maybe I’ll get around to tellin’ ya those ones too when we’re much more acquainted. But don’t worry ya little ol’ head though, sugar, everythin’ will come to fruition in due time and the two of us will be together! I just gotta get a few of my duckies in a row before we take the plunge but it’ll all be worth it in the end and you’ll finally be all mine!

See ya soon, sugar! Don’t miss me too much though~ Before ya know it we’ll be makin’ up for all our lost time and really gettin’ to know each other! But until then I’ll leave ya with this and a few gifts I left behind for ya too!

Lots of lovin’,

Harley<3<3<3

P.s

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