#jericho; head canons

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Pilot | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 4833

A/N: This is gonna be the slowest of burns. Every Saturday, these will publish at 3:00 PM CDT! I hope you all enjoy. Taglist/Requests are open!!

Series Rewrite Masterlist

A trail of men disappearing spanning decades had brought you to Jericho, California. It seemed it would be a pretty standard hunt. From the moment you arrived, though, you knew this would be different.

You’d run into other hunters on jobs before, but none as strange and belligerent as John. John was all you knew him by. He was rough around the edges, and in all honesty, a complete dick. You had unintentionally gotten into an unspoken race with him to see who could finish the hunt first. Both of you refused to back off and go find another job; you just out of spite and him… you had no idea why a guy old enough to be your father was being so petty and territorial about this hunt. And perhaps that’s what fueled your fire to finish this hunt before John could. You thought maybe he knew something you didn’t about the hunt, and you were desperate to find out. But then… he disappeared. 

About a week into the “competition” you were having with John, he disappeared. You didn’t see him around Joseph Welch’s house, the Breckenridge Road home, or the Centennial Highway Bridge. It was completely puzzling. He didn’t seem like the type to up and leave in the middle of a job, but you brushed the unsettled feeling you had aside to keep pushing through your hunt. 

You had torched the body of Constance Welch the same night you guessed John left. You were just about to leave town, and then, Troy Squire ended up dead by what you assumed were Constance’s hands. 

You pulled up to the Centennial Highway Bridge in yet another stolen car. 

‘One of these days I won’t keep putting a neon sign on my back by stealing cars and actually find a way to buy one,’ you thought.

Almost as if on cue, another car pulled up next to yours. Except this car— a black 1967 Chevy Impala— was way nicer than the shitty sedan you’d copped for the time being. 

Two young men in the most layers you’ve ever seen anyone wear in the California sun stepped out on either side of the car. You pushed aside the thought of how attractive the shorter of the pair was and kept walking toward the taped-off part of the bridge where a few officers were milling around a crashed car. 

“Is that Troy’s? Oh, my God,” you shook your head, making sure the officers could hear you. 

“Ma’am, you are not supposed to be here,” an officer told you, trying to keep you from walking any closer to the car.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry, I just—” you sniffed, “—I’m his cousin. We were really close growing up, and I, uh, just had to see this for myself, um, do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

“We were wondering the same thing,” a deep voice called from behind you, making you wheel around.

‘Fuck. The Impala dudes.’

“And who are you?” the officer you’d been speaking to asked.

“Federal marshals,” one said, flashing a badge.

‘Goddammit, more hunters.’ You held back an eye roll, doing your best to stay in character.

“You two are a little young for marshals, aren't you?”

The one you’d found attractive initially flashed a smile. “Thanks, that's awfully kind of you. You just had another one just like this, correct?”

The officer you’d been speaking to didn’t seem too convinced by their story, but replied anyway. “Yeah, that's right. About a mile up the road. There've been others before that.”

“Any connection between the victims, besides that they're all men?”

“No. Not so far as we can tell.”

“So, what's the theory?” the taller guy asked. 

“Honestly, we don't know. Serial murder? Kidnapping ring?” The officer seemed to remember you were standing there as he spoke. “Ma’am, I really do need you to go.”

“I was just about to—” you started, before the shorter guy cut you off. 

“What kinda crack police work are you doing; talking about sensitive information in front of townies?” He was cut off with a grunt; apparently the other guy had stepped on his foot. 

“Thank you for your time,” you told the officer, suddenly feeling very awkward. You turned on your heel, hurrying away. 

***

After the bizarre incident with the other two hunters on the bridge, you went down to a local diner to get something to eat. You were puzzled as to why Constance was still around after you torched her bones. You flipped through a few pages of your journal when you saw the two hunters from the bridge walking in with two goth chicks. 

‘What the fuck. First John, and now this.’

The shorter one of the pair caught the glare you threw their way over your shoulder. He had a smug look on his face you couldn’t quite read as he sat down in a booth with the girls and his partner. You did your best to listen in on their conversation as you sipped your drink. 

“I was on the phone with Troy. He was driving home. He said he would call me right back, and...he never did,” you heard one of the girls lament. 

You recognized the voice of the taller one. “He didn't say anything strange, or out of the ordinary?”

“No. Nothing I can remember.”

“I like your necklace.”

“Troy gave it to me. Mostly to scare my parents—” the girl laughed, “—with all that devil stuff.”

“Actually, it means just the opposite. A pentagram is protection against evil. Really powerful. I mean, if you believe in that kind of thing.”

“Okay. Thank you, Unsolved Mysteries,” the other guy’s voice broke in. 

You held back a small laugh. You hated to admit it, but he was pretty funny. 

“Here's the deal, ladies,” the pretty one said, “The way Troy disappeared, something's not right. So if you've heard anything… What is it?”

Your eyebrows drew together, your back still turned to the group.

“Well, it's just... I mean, with all these guys going missing, people talk,” a new voice chimed in. 

“What do they talk about?” the two boys said in unison.

It got a little harder to hear as one of the girls quieted her voice. “It's kind of this local legend. This one girl? She got murdered out on Centennial, like decades ago. Well, supposedly she's still out there. She hitchhikes, and whoever picks her up? Well, they disappear forever.”

‘Yeah, yeah, I already know that. They are way far behind me in the process.’

“Well, thank you for your time, ladies,” the voice of the taller one spoke amidst some rustling. You figured they were getting up to leave. 

You dropped a twenty on the table, let the door shut behind the group, and stood to follow the boys out. You hung back a little while you watched them head to their car. 

“I know you’re back there, sweetheart,” the pretty one called without turning around.

“I know you do. I was just testing you,” you said, walking closer. “Look, I’ve already got this one covered. You guys should find something else.”

“Not a chance,” the pretty boy replied. 

“Look, man—” you started. 

“We’re just looking for our dad,” the taller one cut you off. “We think he’s working this same job.”

“Wait, is your dad’s name John?” you asked, surprised. 

Both of them started toward you, their shock and confusion evident. “How do you—”

“Whoa, easy,” you giggled. “He was here a few days ago and then he just, pfft,” you imitated a puff of smoke, “disappeared.”

The pretty boy ran his hand through his hair, looking frustrated, while the taller guy continued talking to you. “Was he working with you?”

“Hardly,” you scoffed, “we were kind of in an unspoken competition to see who could smoke this bitch first when he disappeared. And then, Troy ended up dead a day later. I thought maybe he was connected to Troy’s death some kind of way.”

“I don’t think so,” the taller one answered. “I’m Sam, by the way. This is my brother, Dean.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m (Y/N),” you shook Sam’s hand. When you reached for Dean’s, though, he rolled his eyes at you without taking it. 

“Oh-kay,” you muttered. 

“Sorry about him,” Sam told you. “He’s—”

“A bit touchy?” you smirked.

“Yeah,” Sam laughed. 

“I can hear you two, y’know,” Dean snarked. 

“I know,” you quipped. “So, what’s your theory on your dad?”

“We have no idea,” Sam said. “We were hoping you might know.”

“I have nothing for you,” you shook your head. 

“Well, do you know anything about the case?” 

“A lot, actually. Chick’s name is Constance Welch. She’s a woman in white. She lives at the end of Breckenridge Road. I talked to her husband, and he definitely cheated on her. He buried her in a plot behind her house. I went there and torched her. I was just about to leave town when your dad disappeared, Troy wound up dead, and you two showed up.”

“Then, there’s gotta be something else keeping her here,” Sam told you.

“Okay, then what?”

***

“So this is where Constance took the swan dive,” Dean said. The three of you looked over the railing of the Centennial Highway Bridge. Sam had been nice enough to force his brother to let you tag along. 

“Okay, so now what?” Sam asked.

“Now we keep digging until we find Dad. Might take a while,” Dean responded.

“Dean, I told you, I've gotta get back by Monday—”

“What’s Monday?” you asked. 

“I’ve got an interview with law school.”

“Oh, shit, no way!” you smiled. 

Sam smiled back at you before Dean cut in. “Yeah, I forgot. You're really serious about this, aren't you? You think you're just going to become some lawyer? Marry your girl?”

“Maybe. Why not?” Sam cut back.

“Does Jessica know the truth about you? I mean, does she know about the things you've done?”

“No, and she's not ever going to know.”

“Well, that's healthy. You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you're going to have to face up to who you really are.” Dean kept walking down the bridge. 

“And who's that?”

“You're one of us,” Dean said. 

Sam hurried around him. “No. I'm not like you. This is not going to be my life.”

You felt really awkward doing what felt like intruding on a private moment. Your eyes began to scan the railing of the bridge opposite you.

“You have a responsibility to—”

Sam cut his brother off. “To Dad? And his crusade? If it weren't for pictures I wouldn't even know what Mom looks like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom's gone. And she isn't coming back.”

You were doing your best not to listen in on their conversation when Dean grabbed his brother by the collar and shoved him against the bridge railing.

“Uh, guys—” you started, your eye caught by what looked like Constance standing on the railing of the bridge.

“Don't talk about her like that,” Dean grumbled at his brother; ignoring you.

“Guys!” 

“What?!” Dean turned to face you, stopping when he caught sight of Constance. Constance then stepped off the railing. 

The three of you broke off in a sprint toward the spot she’d leapt off. You searched the water below. “Where'd she go?”

“No idea,” Dean answered. 

Your visual search was interrupted by a bright light coming on in the corner of your eye. Dean’s Impala’s headlights. 

“What the fuck—” Dean trailed off.

“Who's driving your car?” you asked him. 

He responded by pulling the keys out of his pocket and jingling them. 

“Oh.”

The car jerked to life, heading straight for you and the boys. You broke into a sprint yet again, doing your best to outrun the car; a task that proved impossible. 

“Jump!” you screamed, and the three of you threw yourselves over the side of the bridge. You thankfully caught a bit of the bridge that jutted out over the water and pulled yourself back up, groaning.

‘My arm’s gonna be sore as a bitch in the morning.’

“Dean?” Sam yelled down to the water below. “Dean!”

“What?” came his aggravated response. 

You looked down to see a mud-covered Dean crawling out of the water. You couldn’t hold back a laugh upon seeing him.

“Not funny, sweetheart,” he called up to you.

“My name’s (Y/N),” you answered. “Don’t call me sweetheart. It weirds me out.”

“Sure thing, sweetheart.”

“Guys, you can argue later. You okay?” Sam called down to Dean.

“I’m super,” his brother responded.

You and Sam climbed back over the railing of the bridge while Dean made his way up to you. The car had stopped only a few inches from where the three of you dove over. Dean busied himself inspecting the engine while you sat with your back leaned against the passenger’s side door. 

“Your car okay?” Sam asked. 

“Yeah, whatever she did to it, seems all right now.” Dean shut the hood. “That Constance chick, what a bitch!”

You chuckled to yourself at his antics. “Alright, well, I don’t think the bridge is what’s tying her here. What now?”

Dean raised his hands in frustration, flicking mud off his hands in the process. 

Sam caught a whiff of his brother. “You smell like a toilet.”

***

Your next stop was a motel. When you went to check in, the clerk informed Dean that another man under the last name on Dean’s card had bought out a room for the whole month. And so, you and the boys went poking around John’s room. 

Every surface was covered in newspaper clippings, magazine articles, photos, hastily scribbled notes, and bits of red tape tying some of them together. 

“I knew John was weird, but this is a whole new level,” you commented, slightly in awe of the frantic scribblings covering the wall. 

‘'Don’t talk about him like that,” Dean grumbled. “I'm gonna get cleaned up.” He started toward the shower. 

“Hey, Dean?” Sam stopped him.

His brother turned around. 

“What I said earlier, about Mom and Dad, I'm sorry—”

Dean held up a hand, cutting him off. “No chick-flick moments.”

Sam laughed. “Alright, jerk.”

“Bitch.”

“You guys are strange.”

Dean rolled his eyes at you before disappearing into the bathroom. 

You started looking around John’s room. A closer look at the walls of information revealed pages on demons, witches, possession, and other bits of newspaper referring to mysterious deaths unlike anything you’d heard before. One was an obituary clipping from 1983; taking you aback. The picture was of a gorgeous blonde woman named Mary Winchester who died in a house fire. Her picture was surrounded by other house fire deaths and linked by red thread to multiple of the demon and witch articles. You walked over to his dresser where there was a picture of a much younger John holding two boys who you assumed were Sam and Dean. 

“You guys were cute kids,” you told Sam, showing him the picture.

He smiled sadly at it. 

After a brief melancholy pause, you spoke up. “So, what’s your deal? College? Law school? Part-time hunter? That doesn’t add up.”

“My, uh, my dad raised us as hunters after my mom passed,” he explained. 

“I’m sorry,” you told him, sitting on the bed next to him. “Was her death the reason your dad became a hunter?”

“Yeah. I’m not exactly sure what happened; I wasn’t even a year old yet. Dean remembers way more than I do, but he said our dad was never the same. Anyway, two years ago, dad and I got into a fight. I wanted to go to school, and he wanted me to stay and hunt. So I left.”

“Dean said you got a girl now? Was that the voicemail you were listening to a few minutes ago?”

“Yeah, actually. Jess. She’s— she’s amazing. I’m excited to get back to her.” You could see how much he loved her just in how his face lit up talking about her.

“I’m sure you are,” you smiled. 

“So, what about you? What’s your story?” he nudged your shoulder with his. 

“Meh, not much to tell.”

“Aw, come on—” Sam rebutted. 

“I’m serious!” you laughed. “I’ve just always hunted. Never knew anything different.”

“I know that’s difficult.” His tone became serious again. 

“Nah, it’s not so bad. I enjoy it. Brings me a little peace, y’know?” you shrugged.

“You sound like Dean.”

“Speaking of which, he’s taking forever and a day in the shower,” you joked. You bounced over to the bathroom door, leaning your ear on it about to knock. “Hey, princess—” 

You were cut off by the door opening and stumbled into Dean’s chest. 

He caught you by the shoulders. “You were saying?” 

You shoved off him, annoyed by his smug smile and quirked eyebrow. “Sorry.”

“Anyway,” Dean began, “I'm starving, I'm gonna grab a little something to eat in that diner down the street. You want anything?”

“No,” Sam said.

“A burger would be great,” you told him. 

“Wasn’t asking you,” Dean said. 

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Aframian’s buying, anyway, so what difference is it to you?”

“Nothing, it’s just fun to rile you up.” He winked and smiled at you, amused at your aggravated expression before closing the door behind him. 

You shook your head. “Dick.”

Sam laughed. “You get used to him.” He went back to his phone, relistening to his girlfriend’s voicemail. He furrowed his brows before pressing it to his ear. “What?” He stands up, catching your attention. “What about you?” He huffed when he hung up the phone, rushing over to the closed curtains to peek out. 

“What, what is it?” You crossed your arms.

“Police got Dean. We need to leave.”

“Shit.”

Sam quickly pulled away from the window which you understood meant you had company. You hid under the bed, anxiously waiting to see the officer’s boots make their way into the bathroom. You began scooching yourself out from under the bed frame, and when he’d slammed the door to the bathroom open, you and Sam snuck out of the room. Thankfully, Sam had Dean’s keys, and the two of you sped away from the motel in Dean’s Impala.

“Well, shit,” you breathed, your heart still beating quickly.

Sam huffed out a laugh, still recovering from the adrenaline.

***

You and Sam were headed to Breckenridge Road to hopefully figure out how to stop Constance. Since you had torched the body, then maybe something in her house was keeping her alive. 

After Dean’s arrest, the two of you were intent on getting Dean and getting the hell out of Jericho before anyone else had a run-in with the cops. 

Sam’s phone rang, and he answered quickly. “Hello?” He tossed a look your way. “Actually, it was (Y/N)’s idea.” You had no doubt he was referring to the fake shooting you’d called in to the police department so Dean had an opportunity to escape. You motioned for him to give you the phone.

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you told him once you had the phone to your ear. 

“Yeah, whatever, sweetheart,” Dean’s gruff voice responded.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And I’ve made it pretty clear I’m not going to listen. Hey, give the phone back to Sam. I gotta talk to him.”

“And why can’t you tell me? Don’t you trust me? I’m offended, babe,” you quipped. 

“Don’t objectify me.”

“Hey, you started it with the whole ‘sweetheart’ thing.”

“C’mon, (Y/N), give him the—”

“Shit!” you screamed, dropping the phone as the car came to a screeching halt. “What the hell, Sam?”

“Constance,” he replied coolly. He kept a level head despite the tense situation. 

You looked up at the rearview mirror to see her in the backseat. “Fuck.” 

Constance’s hauntingly beautiful voice melodically flowed from the backseat. “Take me home.”

“No,” Sam answered. 

You saw her glare as the doors started to lock themselves. You whipped around to start trying to reopen them. The car began jerking forward. 

“What the hell, Sam? Stop!” you told him. 

“It’s not me.”

You looked over to see him holding his hands up. The steering wheel was moving itself. You turned back to the door, struggling to get the lock open. Eventually, you wound up at Constance’s abandoned Breckenridge Road house. The car’s rumble quieted and the headlights turned off. 

“Don't do this,” Sam pleaded, still holding his hands up. 

The ghost flickered, sounding sad. “I can never go home.”

‘That’s it.’

“You're scared to go home,” you realized. When you turned around to look at her, she had disappeared. Before you could even turn back around, you felt the bench seat reclining forcefully. 

“Sam!” 

Constance sat atop him, begging him to hold her. 

“You can't kill me. I'm not unfaithful. I've never been!”

“You will be,” she hummed. “Just hold me.”

You fumbled for your gun hidden under your top. Before you could fully aim at her, you felt your back make brief contact with the Impala’s door before flying through the air. You barely registered Sam yelling your name as you groaned in pain on the dead grass beneath you. 

You rolled around, trying to regain your wits and recover when you heard the sound of multiple gunshots. 

“Sam!”

“It’s me, (Y/N), stay down!” Dean yelled. 

Suddenly, Dean’s car burst through the front of the abandoned house. You pushed yourself up off the ground; your joints and back aching in protest. 

“Sam! Sam! You okay?” Dean called after the car. 

‘I’m fine, Dean, thanks for asking,’ you thought. 

The two of you climbed over the rubble to the passenger’s side window. 

“I think,” Sam responded weakly. 

“Can you move?” you asked.

“Yeah. Help me?” He reached out to his brother. 

Dean pulled Sam through the window of the car. “There you go.”

You turned to see Constance looking sadly at a picture she was holding before slamming it to the floor. She glared at the three of you harshly, forcing a bureau across the floor to pin you to Dean’s car. 

You groaned in pain once again as Dean struggled to push the furniture off. You stopped your struggle at the lights flickering and the sound of water rushing down the stairs. 

“You've come home to us, Mommy,” the echoey voices of Constance’s children sang. They appeared behind her, hugging her as she screamed. In a surge of energy, Constance and her children began melting to the floor. Constance’s resounding scream seemed to get louder and louder with each passing moment, the flickering of the lights becoming more and more intense. You squeezed your eyes shut until the screaming subsided, suddenly feeling the pressure on your stomach relieved. All that was left of Constance and her children was a puddle of murky water on the floor. 

“So this is where she drowned her kids,” Dean said while you rubbed your stomach, recovering from the pressure of the bureau. 

Sam nodded. “That's why she could never go home. She was too scared to face them.”

“You found her weak spot. Nice work, Sammy.” Dean slapped his brother on the chest where he’d been injured by Constance.

Sam laughed despite the pain. “Yeah, I wish I could say the same for you. What were you thinking shooting Casper in the face, you freak?”

“Hey. Saved your ass,” Dean commented, starting to look over his beloved Impala. “I'll tell you another thing. If you screwed up my car? I'll kill you.” 

You giggled at Sam and Dean’s banter. Sam and Dean started to get back into the car, and you idled awkwardly. 

“Whatcha doin’? Let’s go.” Sam looked at you expectantly. 

“Go where?” you asked, feeling stupid. 

“I think we make a pretty solid team. You should tag along.”

“What?” Dean asked while you started shaking your head. 

“No, no, I shouldn’t—” 

“You should. I’m going back to school, and I know Dean’s gonna be lost without me trying to find my dad.”

A slow smile crossed your face. “Thank you. That’d be nice, actually.”

Dean rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything to the contrary. And with that, the three of you set off to drop Sam back off at college. 

***

The thing Dean so desperately wanted to tell Sam that he couldn’t tell you earlier was that his dad had left coordinates to a place called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado in the journal he’d left behind in Jericho. John was getting weirder and weirder by the minute. 

“AC/DC. I like it,” you said from the backseat. 

“Thanks.” Dean cracked what seemed like a genuine, lopsided smile at you for the first time in the rearview mirror. “Sam thinks it’s mullet rock.”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than Kiss and Poison.”

“True that.” Despite the fact that he was agreeing with you about something as mundane as music, his tone was still guarded.

“How far is Blackwater Ridge?” you asked Sam, who was looking over a map. 

“About 600 miles,” he answered.

“Hey, if we shag ass we could make it by morning,” Dean cut in. 

Sam suddenly looked uncomfortable. “Dean, I, um…”

The older brother deflated. “You're not going.”

“The interview's in like, ten hours. I gotta be there,” Sam tried to reason.

Dean nodded, disappointed, and returned his attention to the road. “Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll take you home.”

The mood in the car had turned tense, awkward, and sour, and remained that way for the rest of the drive back to Sam’s college.

“Dude, you go to Stanford?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he nodded, sheepishly.

“Alright, smartass, look at you.” You nudged his shoulder with your balled fist. 

Dean rolled to a stop in front of Sam’s apartment complex. 

You and Sam got out of the car. You gave him a quick hug goodbye before climbing down into the front seat. 

Sam leaned into your rolled-down window. “Call me if you find him?”

Dean nodded. 

“And maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?”

Despite Sam’s chipper tone, Dean’s disappointment was clear. “Yeah, all right.”

Sam patted the car door twice before turning away. 

“Sam?” Dean called before his brother could get too far. “You know, we made a hell of a team back there.” 

You felt a pang in your heart at Dean’s indirect attempt to try to convince Sam to stay. 

Sam nodded with a half-hearted smile. “Yeah.” 

Dean then began to drive off. 

The two of you didn’t get any more than five minutes down the road before you felt something was off. You could no longer hear the steady ticking of Dean’s watch breaking through the almost awkward silence. Sure enough, when you looked over at the wrist he had perched atop the steering wheel, the watch was stopped. 

“Dean,” you said. You tapped his watch’s face with your fingernail. 

He matched your worried glance, immediately turning the car around.

The car had barely stopped before you and Dean were leaping into action. You let Dean take the lead in rushing up to Sam’s apartment. 

Dean kicked the door to the apartment open, calling out to his brother in the process. You gasped when you caught sight of flames licking at the ceiling coming out from what you assumed was Sam’s bedroom. 

You heard Sam’s voice weakly calling his girlfriend’s name as you rushed to get him out of the smoldering room. You just barely caught sight of a body bleeding from the stomach burning on the ceiling before you and Dean dragged a screaming Sam out of his bedroom and away from the fire. You fought him every step of the way out of his apartment complex. 

It didn’t take long for the fire department to show up and the police to start asking questions. A small crowd had gathered to gawk at Sam’s smoldering apartment. Your face was steely as you watched the firefighters carry Jess out in a body bag. You and Dean took the brunt of the questions the police had, allowing Sam as much space as he needed. 

You and Dean soon headed over to the Impala where Sam was packing up the weapons cavity of the trunk. Both of you seemed too scared to ask Sam what was running through his head, and neither of you had any idea what to say. 

Sam threw a shotgun into the weapons box before muttering, “We got work to do,” and slamming the trunk shut.

You threw a look at Dean, who shook his head in response. Biting the inside of your cheek, you followed the boys into the car. As the three of you left Sam’s apartment in the rearview mirror, you realized the course of your formerly relatively boring life was changing very quickly. 

‘Damn you, John. Wherever you are.’

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts!

Hooboy, the big episode! First off, I think everyone knows by now that you probably shouldn't read these if you haven't read the latest episode, but I ESPECIALLY mean that this week! Talking about some way bigger than usual spoilers.

Phew, this was a big one, both from a writing and drawing perspective. I actually spent a full day on that last panel alone, but writing it took way longer than usual too. Going back and forth between Bell's speech and Jericho's backstory played perfectly like a movie in my head, but it was really hard to portray it as a comic and it was one of the few times I was struggling with the limitations of the format. I think I pulled it off though, since everyone seemed to follow along fine! So while it was probably just a neat scene to everyone else, I'm rather proud of that haha.

As for the actual contents of the episode, I'm also glad everything hit w/ the majority of the audience for the most part. I know a handful were confused about if that was Bell or Jericho who did that, but to those people, I remind you it's been loooong established Jericho can control his extensions (Bell, Charlie, and Claude. Remember, they all took injections of Jericho's blank space?). Also on that note, Bell does not have her own scion... Only Rex and Jericho do. Bell, Charlie and Claude all took injections of Jericho's blank space, thus get to borrow some of his power. I recommend re-reading ep 80 if you need a refresher.

I do consider this ep kind of a big reveal of Jericho's true colors. I mean, you guys have known he's the main villain for ages now, but this is the ep that reveals his "better world for blanks" act is kind of a façade and what he's really seeking is a worse world for humans. The fall of humans benefitting blanks is just kind of a bonus. I'm glad a few people caught onto this with the fact that one of the worst horrors he experienced was having his autonomy taken away from him, then he proceeds to do just that to Bell.

And speaking of Jericho's horrors- Before this season launched, I dropped a bunch of hints about upcoming things. One of them was that the most disturbing scene (in my opinion) was coming up. I was actually referring to what happened to Kallie. I'm not sure if it was as disturbing to everyone else (I totally get like if Claude's leg thing fucked people up more), but being evaporated into nothingness but not dying was an existential dread that really fucks me up haha. If it fucked even a couple of other people up, then I did my job.

I don't have too much else to say about the contents of the episode. It was so hard to bite my tongue for weeks as everyone predicted pretty much every character but Desmond was gonna get it. I'm sorry I don't have too much else to say about him right now given what happened, but I definitely will in the upcoming weeks.

I guess the only other note I have is I might as well address something that bugs me slightly- It's definitely a minority but there's a handful of people who seem done with the series because "too many things go wrong." To which... I'm not sure what to tell ya. I'm fine with critique and criticism to be clear, but honestly, this is one thing I'm actually really confident I'm good at balancing. I'm not sure where people are coming from with "nothing good ever happens in this series" when this season alone has had probably the cutest and fluffiest scenes. Rex has a canon girlfriend, he had his first kiss with her, Desmond was reunited with his sister and learned to accept himself, Lyss learned to move past her trauma and accept blanks, Rex was reunited with Shnee, Rex's scion turns out to be a puppy dog w/ a crush. I'm aware a lot of these got kind of crushed with this latest ep...but that's.. kind of. the. point??? That's how you write tragedy and impactful scenes??

I dunno, maybe this is personal to me because it's ALWAYS bugged me when someone tells me they think a show is bad because it's "too dark." Like no... It's not *bad* because it's too dark, you just don't like dark themes, and that's okay. I TOTALLY get if CoB has gotten too dark for some people- it's definitely hit some hard themes and subjects, but I don't like to accept that as a critique. It just means it's not for you and that's okay. There's a ton of other great comics that are more light-hearted! I think the TLDR of this is it will always annoy me when people say something is bad just because it's not their taste.

Now. That said... everyone is completely valid in their hate of Jericho. I, however, still love him.

[tikvin]

Durge girlies infodump ✨

Eshra

Bard+vengeance paladin (I call it "got her powers out of sheer hate". Also dialogs of those classes are most fitting for her. She's also not classic Bard tho, doesn't have instrument either)

Is one of the most uncanny looking durges, but you only notice if you look at her for more than a moment and think about it more than a minute. The more you look at her the more strange things you start to notice. The streaks on corners of her mouth with time will reveal to be a wide mouth, unhinging jaw. Hair color and eyes that are not natural for drow. Slightly longer limbs, all that.

However she's a very charismatic person and averts the attention from the details easily enough. She's cunning, knows when to observe silently and when to speak. She's not a prying type, but very perceptive of emotions of others.

Eshra is in romance w/ Astarion, and Eshra detected his lies very soon, but kept quiet about it, playing along and waiting to see where it goes.

Eshra doesn't have anything against killing, however the real joy she gets is from killing those who think they are the shit. Bringing down prideful and strong chars to pathetic death (favourably in most dishonouroful way) is quite the delight of her life. She tries to avert her urges from the unreasonable (to anyone sane) targets to someone strong. She's also smart enough to dig for reasons to kill, Kahga being the best example. Eshra had an urge to just watch the little girl die.Fotr the fist time such urge concerned her, the itch of the urge would not stop if she just ignores it, so she redirects it to someone "bad" in the room, that being Kahga. She digs for reasons to kill and does so, without even trying to make Kahga change her mind.

Eshra also at first "saved" Lae'zel only to wait and dig for a reason to kill her. Eshra attacks Minthara almost instantly, because Minthara is smart and quickly notices something isn't right with her, and Eshra feels thretened by Minthara's prying. She would prefer her to stay silent, silent for eternity.

Jericho

Wild magic sorcerer

I headcanon her to be a very masterful before the amnesia and losing the control after, requiring help of Gale to try and control it (and that's how they get married lmao). She actually might have turned a bit dumber after amnesia.

Jericho is the most determined to stop the urges and most disgusted by her deeds among my durges. She's also a bit cowardly when it comes to her past, so she doesn't pry too much into it, afraid of what she might find. She also the one to believe Emperor. She's a bit wary, but doesn't see Orpheus helping them (the mountain pass was skipped on account of lore reasons, absence of Lae'zel, cuz after reading the discs of Orpheus there's just no reason keep Emperor alive. I will be playing again with Lae'Zel present, so Jericho would free Orpheus, cuz she'd trust Lae'Zel. Which one is canon I will decide after)

After the game events she recognizes her cowardice, and now feeling much more secure in loving and peaceful environment, she does her best to research bhaalspawn and everything about it to help prevent tragedies. Also the only girlie who is a bit bummed that she must avoid having biological children, but she's dutiful enough to recognize that responsibility.

Also the softest among durges, maybe because she got hit in the head the hardest lol, the one who truly starts a completely new and different life after the incident.

Oh, and she's 100% sure Tara doesn't like her, if not hate her

Thalissa

Assasin rogue+fighter.

Very much not a real githyanki and avoids actual githyanki, while simultaneously pretending to be one when it's convenient. With her I'm planning multiple play throughs btw, current one is without Lae'Zel, other will be with her and another with her being Tav.

She's also not concerned much with her urges, or her memories ("eh, I'm a rogue, I doubt I had much to care about anyway"). Obnoxiously smart mouthed, nonchalant, sometimes unintentionally rude. "Heh, yea, I'm a swamp elf". She hides her face usually, pretending to be whatever other race people might mistake her for.

Much like Eshra, Thalissa enjoys killing those who are oh so full of themselves

But she also actually enjoys being around "goodie two shoes" characters, because she likes to poke fun and make them just a bit annoyed, also secretly hoping their "goodiness" will rub off on her a bit, to quiet down the bloodlust.

Thalissa as a Tav is still the "chill and easy going gith". A githyanki who escaped strict military life and lives in material plane, because she enjoys it way more, even if often faced with prejudice.

Thana

Monk

Very temperamental, openly rude, but not in an elegant way like drows are usually, more barbarian like actually. She might have a bit of a anger issues and it's relatively easy to set her off.

Not the smartest one, not book wise at least.

Not very concerned for cultural things either. "Blah blah blah, balance, rules, boooring, are we fighting or what?"

She is also the one who gets concerned only when her urges start targeting children, but brush them off to kid being annoying and the urge being an intrusive thought. She genuinely tries to be "the friendly drow", but the moment she hears something rude with "you're a drow" reasoning she just can't keep her tongue back, which then doesn't help her making her case lol. You get approximately 3 sentences to make her like you, cus that how long it takes for her to decide (however, in certain cases she might get mad that you don't like her and make it her mission to make you her friend)

She's also not too concerned about memory loss, she undermines her "condition" until it takes grave turn, then she's scared, but too prideful to admit it, until, yet again, it gets in dangerous area (act 2)

That would be it for now, just a bit of general info about the girlies. If you have your favorite, feel free to ask about them, I'd love to answer, I've been keeping the lore for a long time

[fandom-geek17]

Why I actively think Tyler will be redeemed and Wyler will be endgame based on actual clues and my knowledge about movie-making (and not just because I am a raging Tyler apologist)

This is a long one so strap yourselves in, hahaha

First of all, Hunter Doohan confirmed that Tyler’s feelings for Wednesday were real because he didn’t know who she was or her significance to Laurel’s plan when they first met at the Weathervane. But I’d go even further and claim that he didn’t know her significance during the entire first episode. If he knew, why would he ever offer her a ride out of Jericho and offer her the police file that inadvertently led to her cracking the case and bringing Laurel down (but the argument could also be made that that’s why he gave her that file, to bring his abuser down).

Wednesday makes it abundantly clear over the entire season that she has no interest in Xavier whatsoever and is constantly turned off/annoyed by his presence and antics. And this might just be me personally, but Xavier reminds me a lot of an ex of mine who was extremely entitled, selfish, immature and giving major incel vibes. I feel like Xavier is the type of guy who is nice to a girl only when he is interested and/or wants something. And the way he treated Bianca at the Rave’N (immediate no-no) and immediately goes into pity party-mode whenever someone rejects him just irks me. But again, that might just be me.

Now compare that with Wednesday’s reaction to Tyler’s antics. Wednesday is not someone who wants closeness in the beginning, in any shape or form. She is honest, direct and blunt, with no interest in pretending she enjoys something to be polite. Yet she doesn’t object when Tyler manhandles her in ep 2 (in the forest), she never denies her interest in him in ep 4, her first reaction to attending the Rave’N with Xavier is ‘a bullet to the head’ whilst her reaction to attending with Tyler is to immediately start looking for a dress in her closet. She often seeks out his company when she doesn’t really have a reason to, like when she went through the trouble of going all the way to the Weathervane to ask Tyler about the meetinghouse instead just asking anyone else working at Pilgrim World. These small details are to me the ‘signals’ Tyler was referring to. And I think he also just felt the energy between them, or maybe when you’re a 16 year old boy, most things can be interpreted as ‘signals’ if there’s an interest on his part. Or it was just straight up manipulation, as Hunter stated on his instragram. Either way, we can’t deny that Wednesday seems to enjoy Tyler’s presence more than Xavier’s.

Speaking of Wednesday, this is WEDNESDAY ADDAMS. People claim Xavier is the “healthier choice”, which might be true for any other character. But I feel like it’s very OOC for Wednesday to choose one above the other for being “healthier”, not that I believe Xavier would be much healthier. Wednesday went as far as canonically confirming that Tyler is her type BECAUSE he’s a serial killing monster.

The Addams’ Family have a long history of embracing all things weird and unconventional. Fester would be over the moon hearing that a Hyde of all outcasts (his young crush) has captured Wednesday’s heart. Gomez and Morticia would be more than happy to give Tyler all the love and security he never got from his own family. Morticia smiles fondly when Pugsley mentions missing being waterboarded by Wednesday, I don’t think she would have any trouble embracing a traumatized outcast submitted to abuse and torture and then forced to do someone else’s bidding against their will. She mama-bear instincts would kick up.

Hunter Doohan also said that one of the things he looks forward to exploring in season 2 (now confirmed, yay!) is Tyler’s relationship with the Hyde, pulling each side. Who is the real Tyler and who is the Hyde? Does he have active control over the Hyde’s actions or are they all controlled by his master? Remember, we technically have no idea what Tyler did of his own free will and what he was forced to say and do (including that last fight in ep 8). I imagine the Hyde being more of a split personality rather just than man vs monster. The question is if only the Hyde-personality had access to his monster form.

We see that Tyler rebelled against Laurel when he could, when he wasn’t actively forced to do something. For example when he slipped Wednesday the police file (if we believe that theory) and when he chose to keep Eugene alive (Laurel said “take care of it”, clearly meaning “kill him” but since she never used the word ‘kill’, I believe he saw his chance). He also keeps pointing Wednesday in the right direction, even when he probably wasn’t supposed to according to his master, like when he helped her find the meeting house, helped her break into Laurel’s home, chased her and Enid into the basement where they could find more clues.

Grooming, abuse, torture, manipulation, and mind control!!! Need I say more? Tyler is a true victim of his circumstances and society. We must admit that it was pretty easy for Laurel to sink her claws into him. Lonely, traumatized boy with one dead parent and one to emotionally constipated to raise him through his trauma, and here comes Laurel and offers him the truth about his mother in exchange for mommy kink sexual advances until she kidnaps him to torture as she pleases in a cave. She basically presented herself as the sexual version of his mother that Freud loved to say young boys were so vulnerable to. Of course this lonely boy would fall for her act. Laurel even described herself as a plant metaphor in episode 4: some carnivorous varieties use sexual trickery or deception. She then made him think this entire nefarious plan was about him getting revenge on the way outcasts treated his mother.

We see Tyler screaming out for help, subtly and literally, when he tells Wednesday that he wants to “get out of this hellhole town” and later when he’s screaming in the bathtub in ep 3.

The writers keep mentioning Wyler’s “primal attraction” and how Wednesday is drawn to Tyler’s dark side even from the start when she didn’t know what he was. And I truly believe he feels the same way, he is so smitten when she states she would dump piranhas in the swimming pool again. They are both attracted to the darker aspects of their personalities, whereas I feel like Xavier has this romanticized view of Wednesday in his head and when she disproves that by being her morbid, honest self, his first instinct is to whine and feel sorry for himself. He doesn’t embrace every part of her character.

Netflix makes Wyler a large part of their promotion of the show, going as far as pinning Wyler-positive comments on Instagram and making Wyler at the dance their thumbnail for the show on Netflix and hyping Hunter Doohan in general.

If you compare Wyler and Wavier scenes, they tend to play very soft music and use soft/warm lighting during the Wyler scenes. Wavier scenes, sometimes have this too, but never as prominent as with Wyler. From what I’ve seen with other media, that is usually foreshadowing of the producers’ larger plan.

I have a Filler Couple Theory! And that is that the couple that becomes canon in the middle of a show’s entire runtime is almost never canon by the time the show ends. There are exceptions, of course. But generally, shows tend to follow a similar format: couple 1 is introduced as an idea in season 1, they may or may not become canon but the tension is there, for whatever reason couple 2 becomes canon in season 2/3 to create drama and more tension before couple one becomes endgame in season 3/3 (example Stancy in ST, Benvi in NHIE). An exception to this rule is if couple one is a blowburn over several seasons without a love triangle (example: Peraltiago in B99). The writers of Wednesday have planned 4 seasons. They end season 1 with Wyler broken up, hint that Wavier might take more precedence in season 2, and yet still keeps hyping Wyler as much as they do. I think Wavier will be a distraction/filler for Wednesday as Tyler regains her trust and they build so much sexual tension.

So, this was long and kind of all over the place. But as Enid, I write in my voice. And I will admit that some of these points may be down to pure manipulation on Tyler’s part, especially the signals thing. But part of what I love about this show is the ambiguity, the moral grey areas, the way they make a point of embracing the dark side of humanity and loving the characters through it. Until the show canonically confirms that there is no hope for Tyler/Wyler, I will continue to ship it. And I want to add that my will to ship Wyler has nothing to do with who I would personally choose for myself. If given the choice, I would date Enid before my mind could form the phrase ‘toxic relationship’, and I’m very much one of those boring straight people. But as a romantic partner for a dark, morbid character like Wednesday Addams, I would choose Tyler any day.

Tagging: @therulerofallpotatos

[sweaterweatherever]

could you maybe do a Tyler request that's sort of similar to the This Thing of Ours but when Tyler turns on Wednesday the reader sides with him because they've had their own agenda the whole time? im so sorry if it's too broad i just thought it would b an idea for more Tyler ones!!

Master (Tyler Galpin x Reader)

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x AFAB Reader

Warnings: Reader’s mother gets killed. Cursing. Canon typical violence. Reader gets a gun. Dark reader, dark Tyler. Smut. Masturbation. Unprotected vaginal sex. Don’t try any of this at home. Aged up characters.

A/N: I always thought any kind of prank enjoyed by high schoolers was mean, so I stand by saying Tyler has a mean streak. After this we are taking a break from him. Also, wordy, and don’t throw guns on the floor, they might go off. Been getting bolder with the whole monster fucker thing.

Requested: Yep. What better agenda than revenge? Also, to the shadows + stalking anon.

You never liked the barista at the Wethervane. He was, much like every other normie in Jericho, an asshole. You had been in the town long enough to notice. Sure, now everyone was buying his good guy act, but you remembered. You would always remember.

You see, you two had met when you both were little. Your mom used to be around the Galpin’s a lot, since she worked as a secretary on the Sheriff’s department. Often, she had to drop papers for the Sheriff to sign off, and that made her meet Tyler’s mother. Francoise was a lovely woman, but there was a sadness to her, a loneliness, that wouldn’t go away. She desperately needed friends. In a tiny town like Jericho, being an outcast and a single mother wasn’t easy, so your mom wasn’t popular either. She tried not to advertise the fact, but it was evident that something was off about her, with the way you both seemed to suck the light of every room you stepped into.

Two lonely women, who saw each other frequently. The result was predictable: They bonded over their shared characteristics, started meeting for coffee. Both mothers, both outcasts, even if you didn’t know it at the time. Unfortunately for you, it’s a truth universally know that every pair of mothers who become friends try to set up a play date for their children.

At five years old, you had been a very different creature than what you were now. You had been quiet, shy even, and obsessed with dolls. You spent hours dressing them, brushing their hair, playing pretend. Normal child behavior, even if a bit of your mother’s isolation from the world showed in the fact you weren’t used to playing with others. Tyler, though, he was. Typical boy, rowdy, loud and not normal. There was something in the way he moved, his smile showing far too pointy canines for a six-year-old, that made your senses stand on edge. A bully, you thought, seeing him for the first time. He looked like the boys who pushed girls down the slide at the park just to scare them.

In his mother’s eyes, Tyler could do no wrong. To Francoise, his toothy grin was just excitement, his odd way of moving was simply a boy being a boy. She was overjoyed she had been able to carry him to term, Francoise explained to your mother, she had such weak health. She always woke up tired, these days, with unexplained bruises and leaves in her hair. Maybe she was going crazy, perhaps she was anemic, possibly a sleepwalker, the doctors said. And so, she didn’t notice the little monster she was raising.

You had been told to be nice, to be friendly. Your mother liked Francoise, and wouldn’t it be nice if you got a friend of your own? The idea certainly appealed to you, made you willing to try. Maybe Tyler wasn’t so bad, Miss Katherine at school always said you shouldn’t judge a book by his cover.

“Do you want to play?” You had asked, offering him one of your dolls. Tyler had shaken his head.

“Dolls are silly.” Tyler said to you, shocking you deeply. You loved your dolls, and your mom, who was very into the early stimulation trend for kids, had always encouraged you to play with them, making up scenarios. It was good for creativity, she said. You didn’t know what the word meant yet, but it sounded fancy and adult like. You guessed it was a good thing. “They are for little girls.”

You wanted him to think you were cool, you wanted him to like you. A friend, mom had said. A friend of your own, someone to play with, a kid who wouldn’t be weirded out by the way your mere presence made the shadows get bigger and the fact that you weren’t afraid of the dark. So, you asked:

“What can we play?”

“Hide and seek!” He smiled, showing a toothy grin. Tyler was missing his front left teeth, and it made him look softer, endearing. It also highlighted your slight age difference, to a kid, a year was a lifetime. Older was almost always synonymous with cool, too.

“Sure.” You answered, looking around his backyard. You had never played hide and seek before, but you had watched other kids do it. The backyard was small, with not really many places to hide.

“Come on!” Tyler had said, and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the path that lead to the forest. You didn’t protest, even knowing you would get in trouble if your mother found out. Even if the darkness did not scare you, even if shadows were your friends, she didn’t like you wandering around on your own. There were men with guns there, and bears. And not, like, Pooh. Mean bears. “I’ll count!”

Tyler seemed to know his way around the forest better than most kids your ages, but so did you. He started to lead you deeper into the trees, in twisting paths that made it hard to remember where were you.

“I’ll count to ten, and you have to hide, and not come out until I find you.” Tyler explained. “You can hide in a cave or something.” He added, a hint of maliciousness on his tone. Jericho’s forest was full of caves, unusually so.

“I…” Your expression probably told him you weren’t sure about it because he pounced on the perceived weakness.

“Don’t be a baby!” Tyler laughed. It sounded strange, mean even, in the quiet of the forest. Even in broad daylight, the only thing that could be heard was the chirping of some birds. “Or are you scared of the dark?”

“No. I’m not.” Tyler didn’t respond, instead choosing to start counting. You hurried to find a place to hide, deciding to stay behind a tree. The silent felt strange, the whole thing was weird. You were hyper alert to any sound, from the crunching of the leaves to the way the wind blew between leaves.

“Nine.” He waited a bit, his voice sounded excited. Maybe it was the way the sound carried here what made it sound so unusual, twisting around the trees and into the open, the city’s noise far away. “Ten! Here I come!” His sneakers crunched on the leaves, sounding closer than ever. Your heart raced in your chest, a ringing in your small ears. You had never seen the point of the game before, but you knew some people liked getting scared, that was what scary movies were for, your mom told you.

You ran away, ducking just in time behind another tree, pushing your hands against your mouth to avoid making noise. Tyler approached again, and so, it got started. There was something odd, something wrong with this. You didn’t feel like you were playing a game, you felt like if he caught up with you, something bad would happen. Like the scariest thing in the forest was him. Back then, you were too young to understand, but you felt hunted. Like he was a predator and you were nothing more than prey.

After a while, you found yourself in front of a cave. Just as you hesitated whether you should enter or not, someone pushed you in and frightened you terribly. You barely felt the tiny hands against your back. You fell, knees scraping against the stone. A little scream left your throat, and you tried to turn around to get out, lips trembling and eyes filling with tears. But just as you were about to exit the cave, a rock rolled in front of it, taking all the light with it. There was only one other person that could be responsible for this, and only one person that knew where you were. What if you never got out now?

Your first instinct was panic. Like any normal five-year-old, you didn’t like enclosed spaces, and much less being trapped. But instead of screaming, you remembered the reason all other kids hated you, why you were so alone: Because shadows were your friends. You took a deep breath and stayed very calm. Your eyes got used to the dark quickly, much like a cat would. With this, you realized two things. The cave was small, so much you could barely stand inside it. And the thing at the door? It wasn’t a rock. It was only cardboard. Feeling very silly once again, you pushed it away, and crawled out, into the expecting arms of Tyler.

“You aren’t crying.” He stated, looking at your ruined pair of jeans, bloody at the knees, and your tearless face. Tyler seemed angry, cheeks red, as if your lack of tears offended him. You hated him then.

“You are mean.” You said, with all the seriousness and insulting tone a five-year-old could have. “I don’t like you.”

“Oh, did baby got scared?” One of his hands went to tangle in your hair, tugging hard on your ponytail. “If you snitch, you get stitches.”

The sting brought tears to your eyes, but you stared him down anyway.

“Stay away from me! I’m telling my mom!”

“Baby is scared.” Tyler gave you a mocking, concerned look. You took a step back. There was something in his eyes that scared you, a darkness no six-year-old should have. ”If you tell, you will hurt.” And with one last push that made you stumble, he walked away.

You stayed in the forest, and only when he got far enough not to hear you anymore, you broke down and started sobbing. Safe to say, you never played with him again.

You feared Tyler for long afterward. Your fear of him only got better in middle school, when the year between you seemed less like an unbreachable distance. Tyler got sneakier at getting his way, then. He ran with the popular crowd, the one likely to bully and play nasty pranks on younger students and eventually, outcasts. Tyler was an asshole, but one that had gotten better at masking his intentions, behind the mask of a popular boy. Everyone was charmed by him, but you didn’t forget the way his eyes had made you feel, years ago.

Unknown to you, Tyler watched you, too. Your lack of fear and ability to keep a clear head when he had tried to scare you made you intriguing. He didn’t forget the defiance in your eyes when he had pulled your hair hard enough to make you shed tears. At first, it had been intrigue. No other kid had resisted him before, girl or boy. A tiny slip of a thing like you, managing to get out by herself? That had caught his attention. He had wanted to scare you so badly, but never acted on those impulses, even when he had plenty of opportunities. You sat alone at recess all the time, and never noticed him watching you. Then, adolescence started, and he got hormones. You had been brave as a five-year-old, and now you were brave and pretty, slowly blossoming into womanhood. His first crush was on you. But you never once looked at him.

Tyler’s mom died when you just got into high school. Your mother grieved her deeply, but never once shared the secret of what had killed her with you. Tyler got nastier. Alcohol, grief, and the usual power plays of high school added gasoline to his fire, he was everyone’s favorite bad boy. He went through girls like they were disposable, using and discarding them. His friends and he got drunk, pulled stupid pranks, targeting the outcasts from the nearby school more and more. His father made him untouchable, and you knew, you knew Sheriff Galpin regretted the path both had walked on. It was about that time you got into Nevermore, and started keeping a closer eye on him. If he did something terrible, were you responsible too? For not speaking up, despite knowing what he was capable of?

You never talked to him. But you knew he was keeping an eye on you. Out of all your friend group in Nevermore, you were the only one who never got targeted by his gang. It was so noticeable, people started to talk about it. You refused to comment, but you knew, you knew, it wasn’t out of friendship or some misplaced guilt. It was because he liked making you uncomfortable, liked the rumors going around, that you were his. Liked seeing you scared, trembling, every time a prank fell on one of your friends, and you ended up unscathed. He liked scaring you with the anticipation of what was to come.

Then, he went too far. Picture the scene. Outreach day, sunny skies, volunteers everywhere. Your post was at the Pilgrim World, serving tourists. A kid, a popular one at that, gets asked to paint a mural. He does, and does it well. So of course, Tyler has to go and ruin it. The charges are as follows: Destruction of private property, vandalism, assault. He is the son of the Sheriff, and Jericho’s high golden boy. A young man with a promising future, the star of the football team. His dad calls some favors, he is white and charming. The charges get dropped, no smear on his record, but off to bootcamp he goes.

For the first time in years, you breathe in relief. Finally, you don’t have to look over your shoulder all the time, answer pointed questions as to what exactly your relationship with him was. Because it’s good, too good to be true, someone has to go and ruin it.

Your mother’s funeral takes place in a sunny day, for Jericho’s standards. It feels almost mocking, to the woman she was, to the woman in which you are becoming. The kind of woman who sucks all light in a room. Your father’s new, normie, uncomplicated wife, stands next to you, two young pretty things in mourning. You hate her, oh, how you hate her.

“We want to avoid uprooting you, sweetheart. Nevermore is the best school in the country for people like you.” Your father explains, as he moves to your mother’s bedroom, as he puts his new wife on the bed. “But you can’t stay here alone, either… What happened to your mother… Jericho’s a dangerous place.”

It’s always like that. What happened to your mother, her tragic passing, she was taken from you too young. It’s never the cold, hard truth you desperately need. Some psycho killed your mother, injection of poison right at the neck. But no one says that. No one dares say your mother was murdered, no one dares speak without pretty euphemisms. You understand Tyler’s anger then.

You learn things, in the following months. First, that your reaction isn’t normal. Normal teenagers don’t obsess over revenge when their mothers are killed. Off to therapy you go. Then, that poison is a woman’s weapon. Easy, clean, no need for overpowering. Third, breaking in and stealing case files is ridiculously easy when the Sheriff has a soft spot for you, remembering how your mother used to be friends with his wife, her tragic passing and your uncanny resemblance. Fourth, that the psycho who killed your mother wasn’t satisfied with injecting her with a syringe filled with concentrated Nightshade, but that they also took her hand. As if killing her wasn’t enough, as if they needed to profane her body too.

The new herbology teacher shows up. Her special interest in your abilities, the plants she keeps in her greenhouse, the fact that is a she. It all drags you to a disgusting conclusion: You think she did it, but you can’t prove it. And if it wasn’t enough with danger lurking the halls of Nevermore, you cross paths once again with the monster in your nightmares.

You are coming out of Doctor Kinbott’s office, after a long and tiring talk about your relationship with your stepmother. You like the doctor. She always has a cup of hot chocolate for you, and cookies. She is nice, she smiles at you, uncaring that when you are uncomfortable the lights flicker and the room gets darker. You open up to her.

“Hi.” Tyler says your name, repeats it even, but you are too busy gawking at him to respond. His hair is shorter, and he has gotten taller and more muscled. Bootcamp did him good. If before he was handsome, now he is even prettier. You know half the town must be swooning for him. The darkness in his eyes, though, it is unchanged. Tyler tries to hide it behind a polite smile, but you can tell he is thrilled at your reaction.

The cup of hot chocolate slips through your hands, shattering against the floor, liquid staining the carpet. You drop to your knees, trying to clean it up, and he kneels next to you. “Careful.” Tyler says, grabbing your wrist, and you scramble back so hard and fast, you hand cuts with one of the porcelain pieces. Blood drips down your fingers and into his. “We don’t want you cutting yourself, but it is too late for that…” He finishes. His pupils dilate, nostrils flaring, almost if he can smell your fear, but you refuse to back away once again and give him the satisfaction. You freeze in his grasp. A bunny under headlights.

“Oh, dear!” Doctor Kinbott says, lured out of her office by all the ruckus. “It seems you have met each other in quite the way!” She laughs, high and airy. “Nine and half, meet ten and half!”

That brings you out of your daze, and you get up on unsteady legs. You mutter something polite. Tyler, ever the gentleman, helps you to your feet. You cradle your injured hand, shake his. Your blood stains his fingers. You look up at him and keep the eye contact: You both know what it means. I will be watching.

Doctor Kinbott is your safe place. You can tell her almost all that troubles you, almost all because you keep secret your nagging suspicions about Mrs. Thornhill. And so, you tell her about Tyler.

“I don’t like him.” You say to her, after your fourth run in with him in a week. Turns out, now he is the barista at the Weathervane, the only café in town. Can’t you just catch a break? “He… He scares me.”

“Why do you think that is?” She asks, eyes soft and never judging. “Is it because he saw you here or because he has shown interest in you?” Of course, she thinks you are afraid of everyone knowing you go to therapy or intimacy.

“No. You have to promise not to tell him, though…” You offer and she smiles at you brightly.

“Patient – Therapist confidentiality is a given here, even if the other person involved is also my patient. I would never discuss something you tell me with him. This is a safe space.” The doctor smiles kindly, and slides you another cookie. You don’t take it.

“It is because we met before. And he made me feel like prey.” You clutch your hot chocolate closer, and start telling her the story of Tyler Galpin.

Kinbott thinks you should be away from Tyler. She doesn’t tell you what he has told her, but you know the story you told her has made the missing piece of the puzzle fit into place. She moves his appointment to Saturdays instead. Not only that, but she looks afraid. For your safety, maybe? She talks to your dad, and he starts escorting you in and out the building, and when the semester starts, that duty falls to principal Weems.

You start watching him, obsessively, then. The shadows have always been your friends, they don’t mind helping you. You sneak out of Nevermore, and sit long hours perched on the ledge of a nearby building, doing homework and stealing glances at him working behind the counter. It’s soothing, being the one watching for a chance. You feel safer, knowing exactly where he is at a given time, cloaked in your shadows. Doctor Kinbott remains unknowing of your new habit because you know she would want you to stop. She would be both concerned because it’s unhealthy and because she thinks Tyler will hurt you. She is right on both accounts.

One day, your normal routine is interrupted because a car pulls over at the Weathervane. Your heart accelerates, beating harder and harder when you realize who is driving. The redheaded, awful, bitch that murdered your mother. You consider warning Tyler, when you see him being friendly to her, but decide against it because you aren’t sure who out of the two of them is more dangerous.

After that, your stalking gets more intentional. They have to be planning something, it’s weird how much time they spend together. She… She seems to like him, she handles him in a way that makes you want to scream, or tell his father. There is something in the way Thornhill touches him that feels dirty, her hands like claws on his arm, his shoulders, anywhere she can reach. You shouldn’t worry about him, this terror of a boy, but you do. The thoughts get confusing, and so, you decide to drop your stalking habits.

The day is an unusually cold one, and so, your friends decide to make a stop at the Weathervane. You don’t have an excuse to wait outside, with the first drops of rain starting to fall. You burrow yourself more inside your coat and trail after Divina and Kent into the café.

“…I’m thinking of getting a caramel latte, and maybe a cinnamon roll?” Divina chatters on, excitedly. She is overjoyed, she has always loved rain. Any water is good water, that’s what sirens always say.

“Don’t you think is way too much sugar? Your teeth will rot.” Kent answers, pulling the door open for the both of you. “What do you think?” He asks you, and you try to form a coherent response that surpasses your fight or flight instinct.

“Yeah, yeah. Next thing you know, she gets diabetes.” You answer, but your attention is not in the conversation. Instead, it is in the boy behind the counter.

Tyler looks just about the same as always, brown polo shirt clinging to his shoulders, apron neatly tied back. But the bruises and the scratches on his arms, those are new. So is the look of pure panic he is sporting, trying to hide it behind a mask of normalcy you know too well. The same one you have worn every day since your mother was murdered. Something rumbles in your stomach, something both possessive and dark. He isn’t supposed to be scared, Tyler is the one to inspire terror in others, not the reverse. And if he is going to be scared, why should other people have the satisfaction? You deserve his fear, after spending twelve years of your life fucking terrified of him from his stunt in the woods. Besides you, no one should be able to scare him.

“We will have a caramel latte, a mocha with an extra shot of espresso and a chai tea. Also, two cinnamon rolls.” Divina says, without even saying good morning. It doesn’t sit right with you. Your policy with anyone working customer service is treating them like a person. Divina is not mean or rude, but she doesn’t think before she speaks most of the time. So, even if this is Tyler, alias your personal nightmare, Galpin, you feel the need to add:

“Good morning, and please.” And smile a little, too. Tyler smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He isn’t paying attention, not even to you. You try to make small chat, but he shifts and avoids any attempt at it. Maybe he thinks this is a power play, too.

When he extends his hand to pass Divina the change, you notice his wrist is purple and green, almost as if he were held too roughly. You wonder what could possibly leave bruises in a pattern so odd.

“Man, did you see his bruises?” Divina loudly whispers when you are walking back to the table. You say nothing. Next to you, Kent snickers.

“Yeah. Who knew Jericho’s golden boy was that kinky?”

“What are you talking about?” You really don’t understand what they are talking about, but their silly mood is contagious. You can’t help but smile.

“Oh, you sweet summer child…” Divina pats your hair. “The bruises on his wrists, those are from shackles.”

Kent laughs. Suddenly, you aren’t smiling anymore.

The first body is discovered only a few days later. The press comments on the attack, hinting at a possible serial killer because isn’t it odd the killer took a foot? This time, your choice of stalking victim is Mrs. Thornhill. But regardless of what you do, she always manages to slip away. And the times she does, a body turns up a few days later, random body part missing.

Your anxiousness must show. Doctor Kinbott comments on it, but you don’t dare tell her. You don’t have the proof. Your therapy rides with Principal Weems get crashed by a pig tailed girl with the name of Wednesday. Her arrival late in the semester puts the school upside down. It’s not hard, to find out she is trying to solve the mystery of the murders.

The next time Weems takes you both to therapy, you slip her your mother’s file.

“Here.” You say to her, trying not catch the attention of the Principal driving you. You pass her a folder, in sober blue. “The notes you asked for.”

“I didn’t ask you…”

“You did. After Rowan’s accident. You were murderous when it happened.” You hope she catches the hint, and Wednesday does not disappoint, grabbing the folder with eager hands.

“Oh, right. I must have forgotten. Thank you.”

In big black letters, just before the detailed autopsy report, you placed your warning: Different MO, same signature. Killer might be closer than you think.

You hope Wednesday can get the proof you need, but you don’t want to lead her on, so you don’t name your suspect.

Tyler shows up at the Rave’n on Wednesday’s arm. He looks better, less bruised and more confident. Your eyes lock across the room, in the middle of your dance with Kent. His lips part, almost as if he were about to mouth something and decides against it at the last minute. Kent pulls you towards his chest, chin hooked over your shoulder.

“What are you staring at?” He asks, following your gaze. For someone who negates the existence of romantic love, he is quite the gossip. “Doesn’t golden boy over there has his own, dark, date to ogle?”

“He has, yes.” You answer, still holding eye contact with Tyler. He has an odd expression on his face, almost as if he has been punched. He looks good tonight, you aren’t going to lie to yourself and say you don’t find him attractive because he is. Shame that you know exactly what lurks beneath the pretty face.

“Seems like our boy has a type. Likes them dark, menacing and tiny.” Kent pokes at your ribs, still with his head on your shoulder. It makes the whole thing awkward because your body arches trying to get away from his touch, but you don't want him falling down either. It looks funny, you know that because Tyler smiles slightly.

“Asshole.” You break eye contact with Tyler to push Kent away. “Not tiny.”

“I’ll stop calling you tiny if, when you fuck him, you share details.” He snorts.

“Gross.” But your response is a little delayed, and Kent definitely notices. He gives you a pitying look, and you wonder if he knows something about you that you don't know about yourself. Both Divina and him are your closest friends, but you know they share a bond that's different from what they have with you. Do they talk about you when you are not there? Do they talk about the way Tyler looks at you, the way that you look at him, half fear, half attraction?

“Babe, the boy has been pinning for you since, like, fourth grade.” The phrase rings in your ear, makes its way to your brain like an insidious worm. It's still there when blood starts to rain from the ceiling, when Tyler rushes out of the room. Maybe that's why you follow him. Oh, how you wish Kent had never spoken them.

You cloak yourself in your shadows, Kent in too much of a panic to notice you slipping away from him. Tyler's looking at his phone, distracted. He doesn't realize you are falling into step behind him, following into the twisted paths of the woods you both grew up into. The same as you did thirteen years ago, follow him inside the forest because you were young and stupid and desperately wanted to be liked.

The night is cold, wind drifting in and out between the trees and making eerie sounds. Your dress sticks to your skin, wet with fake blood. Tyler walks with intend, dodging branches and ducking between leaves. You try to keep up, but you are getting tired. Someone screams, the sound making you jump. A boy, it's a boy screaming. And then, Wednesday's voice rings in your ears, but you can't make out what she is saying. You can barely think because right in front of your eyes, Tyler is turning into the ugliest monster you had ever seen, skin gray, form still humanoid. It looks painful, how the skin breaks, the joints shift. His eyes are dark and protruding, hungry, pointy teeth come out of his mouth. The nice hands turn into claws, and you don’t dare breathe, you don’t dare even whisper a warning because he is pouncing on the boy and slicing with his claws.

You press your hand to your mouth, biting your fingers to keep you from screaming and betraying your position. It’s over fast, the screams of the boy turning into pained, choked whimpers. The monster sniffs at the air and for one terrifying second, you think your eyes meet his. But he walks away, and then Wednesday is there and Thornhill, and it’s all so confusing and scary you end up walking back to your dorm in a daze.

The shower you take does nothing to soothe your nerves, but it helps you clear your head. So, Tyler is the monster. But Thornhill still showed up at the scene, you know the two of them have something like a relationship. Does it mean they are working together? You toss and turn until morning, sleep evading you. Your conclusion is that you need additional information. You decide to explore the woods and do some more stalking in your free time.

This is what you discover: There is a cave, much like the one Tyler pushed you into all those years ago. Someone burned the cave down. Eugene, the kid from the bee club, was trying to get inside the cave, but the person burning it down spooked him. He ran into the monster, into Tyler after that. You also know Tyler got a text before slipping away, that means he was possibly following orders. Thornhill appeared at the scene, and so did Wednesday.

You decide to tail Wednesday after that. It doesn’t last long, the girl too paranoid about being followed to be able to do it easily, but you learn the monster is called a Hyde. Hydes usually have masters, who tell them what to do. You decide to look up that information later.

The first days are hard. You don’t dare tell anyone what you just saw, too paranoid about suffering the same fate as Eugene. Tyler is dangerous, you have known that since you both were just kids, but now you know exactly how much. He is capable of killing people, yet he isn’t the one who killed your mother. You can’t decipher why Thornhill would be interested in killing her… Unless she knew Tyler was a Hyde and could become a problem later on. But that doesn’t explain what Thornhill hopes to achieve by killing all these people. You ponder, and ponder, but can’t get a why.

Then, cold, hard determination settles on your stomach. You can’t go the legal way, but you can get your revenge in other ways. You need a plan, and it won’t be easy, but you think you can achieve it. What can drive a person to become a murderer? Turns out, all it takes is getting pushed a little too much. Suddenly, murder seems like a reasonable reaction. Desperation makes funny things to people. And seeing Tyler attack Eugene had been your last straw. You won’t be able to live without fear until Thornhill is neutralized, and if no one is going to do it, you will have to take matters into your own hands.

The first step is easy. On your next therapy session, you tell the magic words to Doctor Kinbott.

“I’m afraid. Sometimes… Sometimes I get this feeling, like someone is watching me…” You whisper, crying, in what has to be the performance of a lifetime. Kinbott looks almost afraid, too. She takes your hand in hers, gently. You feel bad about manipulating her, but it’s for the best.

“Do you think you are in real danger, or is this a feeling only?” At the question, you think a little. If you tell her it is real danger right away, she might discount you as a traumatized girl. But if you appear to be considering the question, she will think you are sensible, in touch with your emotions, responsible.

“I don’t know.” You answer and start sobbing. Kinbott takes you on her arms, and you hug her back. You walk out of the session with a tired expression. Who knew fake crying was so tiring?

The second step is easy too. You know your mom had a gun. Being a single mother, even in a small town, is dangerous business. Even more when you and your daughter are part of a discriminated minority. It’s a tiny revolver, that you know your dad wouldn’t dare throw, just like all the stuff your mom had. To make room for his new wife, he just put everything neatly up in boxes in the attic and forgot about it. The attic might not be the place for a gun. But the safe in the office might be.

You are right. The revolver is there, collecting dust and just waiting to be used. You don’t take it yet, knowing your father would notice it absence. Instead, you go stalk Tyler some more, and learn two things. His bedroom doesn’t have bars in the windows, and he still keeps a planner for his schoolwork, all done manually. You snap pictures of it.

Now you know he has a date every Saturday after therapy with someone named L. And his handwriting is easy to copy.

When the first letter shows up, you are having breakfast with your father and stepmother. It’s Sunday, and you had asked Principal Weems for permission to sleep at home, citing homesickness. The letter it’s addressed to you, in wonky letters that clearly try to disguise the handwriting. You open it, and promptly start sobbing.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Did… What does it say?” Your dad gets up, reading over your shoulder. His face morphs into one of fury.

“What kind of bastard? I’m going to kill him, sweetheart! I will kill that fucking boy!”

“Love, calm down, you are scaring her!” Your stepmother says, laying a hand on his arm.

“Scaring her? She is not scared of me, look at this, at the little bastard. That Galpin boy, I bet he is behind it.” He takes the letter from your hands, and starts quoting it out loud. You start sobbing harder. “Your thighs, they are so creamy. I have seen them, when you walk out of the shower to get dressed. I wonder how they would look if I held them down and forced you to open them, if you would scream, resist me! The guy is sending rape threats to my daughter.” At that, your stepmother falls silent, and pulls you into a hug. You cry on her chest.

“How… Whoever this is, they must be watching the house, to know she would receive it.” She says, carding a hand through your hair.

“That’s it. I’m going to the station.”

“Don’t!” You beg. You have set up Tyler to take the blame for it, but it doesn’t mean you want him to, it’s only a last resource. “Daddy, don’t!” You know he melts when he hears you call him that, reminds you of better times, when he and your mother were still together, when you were his little princess.

“Sweetheart…” He pleads with you, but he is already surrendering.

“She is right. We can’t go to Sheriff Galpin and tell him his son is stalking her!” Your stepmother intervenes, and for the first time, you are grateful for her.

“We should have taken her across the country! Not uprooting her, my ass. This fucking town!” Your father complains, but you fist a hand on his shirt and pull him into the hug too. You need to keep him happy, and if he thinks you are playing family with his new wife, he will be more malleable. He goes willingly.

You sent yourself two more letters, in the same disturbing tone. You are careful to not make them seem more like twisted love letters, never threatening, so you don’t get pulled out of Nevermore. In your next session with Doctor Kinbott, you tell her about the letters, your dad’s suspicions, and you mention how much safer you would feel if you knew how to shoot.

Your lessons with Sheriff Galpin start that same afternoon.

“Look at you, all grown up!” He says to you, ruffling your hair. “Your daddy tells me he wants me to teach you how to shoot, says summer is coming, and you will be all alone in that big house.” Normally, he doesn’t like outcasts, but you look so much like your mother, and she was such good friends with Francoise…

The backyard, the place you will be learning how to shoot, looks the same it did thirteen years ago.

“Thank you so much for taking the time, Sheriff.” You say to him, brightly. Tyler won’t be home for at least five more hours, that you know. He has school, and then a shift at the Weathervane.

“Call me Donovan, kiddo. We will be spending all afternoon together.” He sets up some cans in the far wall. “Your mother had registered a revolver, so you will learn to shoot one of those, okay?”

“Yeah, daddy said he still has it. Couldn’t bring himself to throw it away.” You answer, innocently. The Sheriff mutters something uncomplimentary under his breath, that sounds too much like a dig at your dad and stepmother, but you let it slide because you think mostly the same.

“Pay attention. This, here, is the cylinder.” He indicates a twisty part. “You open it, pressing here.” He hands you the revolver, and you repeat his motions, committing them to memory.

“Okay.”

“Revolvers are easier to handle, less complex than semiautomatics. Good for a lady, they can be concealed in a purse. But since you will be at home, we will go over carrying later.” The sheriff shows you tiny bullets inside the cylinder, slowly taking them out. “God, you are not the person I thought I would be teaching this.”

“Did you teach Tyler?” You ask, curiously.

“No, kid never showed interest. And even if he did…” He trails off, and you can tell he is thinking about what happened last year, when he got sent off to bootcamp. “That’s not relevant. Remember this, always. Guns are dangerous, and it’s more probable that the gun at home will be used against you than to defend you, that’s statistics. So, you don’t pull out the gun to threaten, you only pull it out when you are sure you will take the shot, got it?”

“Yes, Mister…” At the look he gave you, you promptly corrected yourself. "Donovan.”

“Good. This, here, is the trigger. It’s hard to pull, this is why the revolvers don’t usually have other safety’s. Try it.” You put a hesitant hand on the revolver. “Go ahead, sweetheart. It’s uncharged, you won’t hurt anyone.” You tried pulling it, finding out it needed more force than you thought.

“This one here, is a higher caliber, that means, more recoil. So, try to grab it with both hands. Revolvers carry fewer rounds, but are far more accurate than a semi, so, not that bad. Always aim for the torso, even if you got bad aim, you will hit something.”

The afternoon goes by quickly. He pours you a mug of coffee, and you promise next time to bring something sweet to share. Donovan looks lonely, and it tugs at your heartstrings, that you are manipulating him too. It hurts even more to think that his son is a killer. You are certain that by the end of it, he will be even more heartbroken.

Tyler thinks he is going crazy. Your smell follows him anywhere, sweet and enticing. If he hadn't been experiencing before that afternoon, he would have thought it was his stupid crush rearing its ugly head.

He enters the house, tired after the long shift, and the scent lingers in the air. His dad is sitting in the backyard, there are two mugs in the kitchen sink.

“Was someone over?” He asks, curious about what his dad will say. Will he cover up for you? Tyler knows all about your watching trick, you think you are so sly, but he can smell you from a mile away. His eyes have always been on you, since he was only a kid who didn’t know what wanting someone really meant. He was always going to see you watching him, and most of the time, he was watching back. And the Hyde… The Hyde thought of you as his. Not prey, not quite master, something else entirely. The Hyde’s mouth watered at the thought of running you down, biting you until you whimpered, mouth filing with the coppery taste of your blood. But not hard enough to really hurt you, no. Just enough to get a bit of fear in your eyes, to get the defiance and fire you had had since you were a five-year-old shining on your features. You would be beautiful, glorious even. You already were.

“Yeah, remember my old secretary?” His father says casually. “The one that was friends with your mother?” The way the words come out of his mouth, it’s strange. Almost as if he never speaks them out loud, only to himself. And it’s true. Tyler doesn’t talk to his father a lot about his mom. More like, never.

“Yeah, was she here?” Tyler asks, feigning he doesn’t know your mother is dead. He knows all about you, he always has. From the face you make when you are about to cry, to the way your school skirt sways left and right when you walk. He knows you have a mole on your hip, that you don’t like wearing perfume unless it is a special occasion. He knows you watch him cloaked in your shadows and like to pretend that you are some big sort of predator when you are just a tiny bunny. Maybe a black bunny, but a bunny nonetheless. Prey. His for running down, his for taking.

“Her kid. She passed away, some psycho murdered her last semester, when you were on…” His father starts to explain, trailing off in remembrance of his time at the bootcamp. Tyler doesn’t want to talk about it, so he cuts him off.

“Yeah. What did she want?” A crazy thought crosses his head. Perhaps you are looking into the death of your mother, maybe he can tip you off in some way. He doesn't understand why Laurel might have killed her, but it has her fingertips all over it. She might have been trying to see if she could do it on her own, carrying the whole plan by herself.

“Her dad wants her to learn to shoot. Summer is coming, and the poor kid is all alone in that big house, after her mother’s death… I can’t blame the man for being paranoid. I can blame him for bringing his mistress and having her sleep on the same bed, though….” Tyler is not listening anymore. He isn't concerned with the gossip on your father. He thinks it’s nice, that the guy cares enough to get someone to teach you to defend yourself. After all, you are all fragile human, with powers that aren’t really good for close combat. Even if you are a firecracker, you are easily hurt. Tyler has issues with that. If someone is going to hurt you and scare you, it’s going to be him, not some robber who shows up at the right time.

Your smell chases him still. It takes a lot of self-control, to not just run to the shower and masturbate to the way your perfume drifted through the house, to the space the Hyde calls his, and impregnated the sofa’s cushions. It gets worse, this itch, the more time that passes. Every day, the scent is all over the house, your smell getting stronger with each visit.

The day he feels it in his bedroom is the day he folds, jerking off in a way that’s almost desperate, with a fist on his mouth to keep himself from crying out. He wonders how you would look, all pretty on your knees. Would your eyes be full of the same defiance, or would you melt, turning into all soft skin and whimpers? He wonders if you are watching him, now, perched in some dark corner. His blinds aren’t closed, he realizes. You could be sitting in one of the branches of the tree just across the street, defiant eyes fixated on him, cloaked up pretty on your shadows. Tyler wonders if you would like watching him, and that thought is what sends him over the edge, desperate sounds drowned on his pillow.

Wednesday does the courtesy of inviting you to torture Tyler that night.

“He is the thread we need to pull to get to your mother’s killer.” She says, full of confidence. You hope this time, she gets it right because you had heard about Xavier’s arrest and your therapist’s murder, and you were so tired you could cry. “Thought you had a right to attend.” Like she is inviting you to a damn wedding or christening and not a, you know, torture session. Your morals have been iffy lately, so you are in no place to judge.

“Sure. Thank you.” You say, and the thought of your reaction at seeing Tyler in chains is not something that even crosses your mind.

“You too?” He asks, in a tired tone, when he sees you stepping out of the shadows. “Look, you can’t still be mad about what I did to you.” Tyler is good, you have to give him that. He has you doubting that he is the Hyde and you saw him maul Eugene half to death. But there is something in the way he looks at you, hunger in his eyes, that gives him away. Tyler has always looked weirdly at you, but this, this hunger, is like almost thinks you two share a secret, that you two are partners in crime.

“What did he do to you?” Wednesday asks, but she is slowly losing control of the group. The cops will arrive at any moment now, so you manage to slip away and get the gun from your dorm and be back in position in a miraculous time.

When Sheriff Galpin comes in, guns blazing, you position yourself in front of Tyler, almost as if you are protecting him. It leaves your back open to him, and even with him chained, you don’t like it. Then, you do your favorite trick: You start crying.

When the man sees you, his expression changes. He is about to question you, but you run to his arms, uncaring about the gun in his hand, and hug him hard.

“I’m sorry sir, I tried. I tried, I promise you, Tyler is not the murderer, he was with me all those nights. I snuck him in, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I tried to stop them.”

You are sure that behind you, the look Tyler must be giving you has to be of absolute bafflement. Wednesday is staring daggers at you, but you don’t care. Your hand is gripping the gun on the pocket of your coat, and the only thought on your head is that you are getting your revenge.

“Shh, kiddo, it’s okay.” And just like you predicted, the Sheriff is unable to deal with a crying girl, so he rubs your back as another officer unties Tyler. “You three, to the station. Now.” He says, directing Tyler and Wednesday to his truck. He lets go of you, pushing you gently towards Tyler, who he now thinks is your boyfriend. Tyler catches you, pulling you towards his chest, hiding his face in your hair as if he is calming down.

You press the barrel of the gun against his stomach before he can even speak.

“For the record: I am not happy to see you.” You whisper and feel the way his body goes tense. He wraps a hand on your shoulder, he laughs a little, but it’s strained.

“What the hell are you doing?” His lips are dangerously close to your ear, and you shiver. You feel his smirk against your hair. Not knowing if you want him closer, or far away, you shove him with one last warning.

“Saving your sorry ass. We are dating. Go.”

Wednesday rides shotgun, Donovan not trusting her enough to put her in the back with you two. The ride is quiet, you keep your hands in your pockets, revolver firmly in your grasp. Tyler’s eyes never leave you, questioning and dangerous.

When you get to the station, you get sent to separate rooms. They don’t make you go through the metal detectors, there is simply no time. Not when the Sheriff's son was just kidnapped. They take your statement, and you spin your web of pretty, sanitized lies, pinning everything on Wednesday.

You tell the Donovan you and Tyler are dating, but keeping it a secret because you are an outcast, and were afraid of his disapproval. You also tell him your father is really strict, he doesn’t want you dating until you are 21. For almost every murder, you give him an alibi, so he doesn’t get suspicious of everything being too perfect. You tell him how you snuck him in to your dorm, in the middle of the night, how you know his favorite candies are Reese’s cups, and that you had gotten closer after you had asked him for one at the Weathervane, for him to tell you they were not for sale. How you had a crush on him since you were kids, but your father would have never approved. You tell him you think Tyler has been getting better, not getting in trouble until that girl, Wednesday Addams (And here you make sure to enunciate her last name loudly, to play on his prejudice) appeared. You tell so many lies, and so many half-truths already, that your head is spinning.

Tyler and Wednesday kept their statement brief, referring only to the kidnapping and torturing. When you get out, you find him threatening Wednesday, while apparently hugging her. He is angry. Oh, he is angry, and you think it’s not all directed at her, but to you too.

You clear your throat because that’s what a good girlfriend would do. Tyler's expression gets even more pinched.

“Bunny, didn’t see you there.” He lets go of Wednesday, who looks half pissed, half terrified, and pulls you closer to him, slipping a casual arm around your waist. You hug him back, tense smile on your lips, fingers itching for the gun. One of his hands goes to the back of your neck, Tyler runs a finger down your spine. It's a warning. He could snap your neck if he wanted.

“We aren’t finished here.” Wednesday says, looking at both of you like you are monsters. Which, fair, maybe you both are because you are trembling under Tyler's touch, and it's not from fear. Wednesday doesn’t ask for your motivation, but her next words are directed to you only. “He won’t get away with this.”

“I think…” You say, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Tyler leaned down to give you more access, sweet smile on his face, while his hands dug on the skin of your waist in a grip so harsh it was almost claw-like. “He has an iron tight alibi for most of those nights, one willing to testify. And that the DNA won’t be checked again, since it was dismissed and the chain of custody is probably broken already.”

“You don’t know what he is capable of.” She warned, walking away.

“Oh, I am. I got this under control.” You laughed, and Wednesday gave you one last murderous glance before leaving.

“We need to talk.” Tyler whispered to you, leading you out of the station. “I don’t know what game you are playing, little girl, but it won’t end up well for you. I could break you in half…”

“Tyler, sweetie.” You said, pressing the gun hard against his side while you walked. To an outside observer, you looked like any other over affectionate young couple. “This is why, in this relationship, I do the talking.”

“You are bluffing.” He said, leaning more into the barrel of the gun. “You wouldn’t shoot.”

“What is what your father always say?” You asked him, finger going to the trigger. “Never pull the gun unless you…”

“You are ready to take the shot.” For the first time in the night, he seemed scared. “You don’t want me taking it from you, Bunny. You are going to get hurt.”

“Oh, try. Thing is, this is not like the semi your dad uses. One pull of my finger and you are dead. Revolvers don’t have a safety. I got five bullets. Wanna bet on how many I can put on you before you even try to take it from me?”

Tyler kept quiet.

“What do you want?” He finally asked. His eyes were glazed over, his expression half fear, half want. Oh, he was sick. Probably you too. Who liked getting threatened with a gun? But from the look on his eyes, he was very much into it.

“I want Thornhill dead. And from how I see it, you have two options. You help me kill the bitch or go down with her. I don't care.” You spit out, and it feels so good to finally admit it. You had spent months saying to yourself you wanted her in jail, convincing you didn't want her dead. But you are past that point. Justice wouldn't be her living behind bars a long time. The only justice you could get was ending her life, just as she had ended your mother's.

“I can’t…” Tyler whispered, guiding you towards his house. But you could tell, that maybe, he wanted her dead as much as you did. Something rattles in your mind, a memory half forgotten. The way she touched him that first night, the way you didn't like, that made you sick to your stomach.

“Oh, come on, now you remember you have a moral fiber?” It's a shitty thing to do, but you need to press your advantage while you still have it. “You don’t kill women? Well, guess what, you are going down with her.” The barrel of the gun dug harder against his body, so hard you were sure a bruise was forming.

“It’s not that…” His voice sounded pained. “She is my master, the Hyde…”

“Can change its allegiance, I’m sure.” You stepped a little away from him, keeping your eyes on his hands. You didn’t want him trying anything.

“I… I don’t know how.”

“Look, I’m not asking you to kill her yourself. Just help me. I’ll do the killing. Besides, I bet you want it as much as I do.”

“She isn’t so bad…” He tried to joke, a hint of the golden retriever smile appearing on his face. He looked cute. You vanished those thoughts immediately. No time for distractions, not now.

“You could have been normal, you know?” You said to him, jerking to a stop in a dark alleyway. This will work better, he seems the type to be moved by the fantasies. And you, you knew how it felt to miss a mother, grief so encompassing you could barely breathe without hurting. “My mother knew about yours, she could have helped you. That’s why she is dead. For you.”

“My… Would she have?” He asked, looking gutted. The idea of someone helping him is so foreign, you wonder if no one else has offered before. Have all his relationships been transactional, so far? Tyler seems to be that way about touch, too. Always to hurt, to dominate, never touching for the sake of it. Thornhill was another example of that, you betted she had took advantage of how touch starved he was.

“She loved her. It was always, Francoise this, Francoise that. She cried every night after her death for months. She desperately wanted me to be friends with you.” Your eyes filled with tears. You took the gun out of your pocket, gripping it one-handed and pointing it to the ground. Just in case he decided to get smart and take advantage of your distraction. Fuck, you were too soft. You hated it.

“My mother, she liked you too.” Tyler offered, quietly. His eyes were red, but he wasn’t crying. “She always joked how you would have made an amazing daughter-in-law.” His tone was soft, hesitant. He had raised the stakes out of his own free will.

“She was lovely. The only friend my mother had.” Not an agreement, but not a no, either.

“God, wherever they are, they must be so angry.” Tyler laughed, and it sounded a little hysterical. You couldn’t help but join in. “Can I hug you?” He asked. Your hand twitched on the trigger. Tyler followed the motion, only reaction been raising his hands in surrender. For the first time in the whole night, you didn’t know what to say.

Tyler’s eyes were pleading. He had never wanted you more than tonight, when you had manipulated people left and right for him. For him, the Hyde screamed. The monster had already made his decision, to him, tonight had been a declaration of eternal love. This gun to his ribs, nothing more than part of running you down. He had to prove himself strong, worthy of your submission. The Hyde was never letting you go again, you were his new obsession. From this close, you smelled heavenly, the perfect mix of girl, nervousness, and determination. Good enough to eat. He just needed to catch you and claim you.

You could tell, by the way he looked at you, troubled small-town boy and hints of the monster beneath it, that he was sincere. He actually wanted to hug you.

“Sure. Since we are now dating and all…” You trailed off when his hands wrapped around you, nose burying in the crook of your neck and taking desperate inhales of your scent. It was driving him insane. He wanted you close, so close your scents mixed, so close your fear clung to him, gave him the high he wanted.

“You can keep the gun, if it makes you feel safe.” Tyler whispered against your skin, lips moving against your neck. It was soft, this time. He wasn’t gripping you harshly, like he had been at the station. The gun clattered softly to the gun, slipping from your limp fingers. He could be manipulating you, but this felt too good, too right, to not fall for it. “But… I like you. I always have. I have watched you more than I should, my Hyde is head over heels for you already.” Tyler kept talking, hoping you would see he was sincere. This was him, matching your boldness. “I would kill her for you, you know? If you asked. If you wanted me to. I would hold her down, slash her throat. Offer her body to you.” Those words were forbidden words, contemplating killing his master should be impossible. But for you, for you, he would do it. There was no hesitation.

No one had ever told you something half as romantic. So, you took your own leap of faith. You pulled him out of your neck, softly grabbing his hair, and devoured his mouth. Tyler kissed back, just as passionately. He crowded you against one of the walls, thigh slotting between your legs, and you whimpered in his mouth. The happy rumble he gave, it didn’t sound human.

“Mine,” He said, kissing a path down your neck, biting at it, hard. Hard enough to draw blood. “Mine. Mine. No one else will touch you, not even her. Mine.” He seemed crazed, like the only thought in his head was you. And it was. The Hyde was frenzied with the need to claim, to make sure everybody knew you were his.

“Yours. Yours.” You answered, breathless. Oh, you two were fucked. Badly. You knew you shouldn't want him so much, a few days ago you had watched him maul a kid half to death. It was not even an hour ago, you had been pointing a gun to him. But his lips on your skin felt right, the way he was touching you was making your brain throw all precaution through the window. You grabbed at his hair, at his back, anywhere. To wherever you could reach, anchor yourself with.

“Let’s take this somewhere else, please?” Tyler whined, mouthing at your shoulder. His hand tugged at the collar of your shirt, exposing more skin for him to mark. It makes you wonder if this is him or the Hyde talking. He has always had a dark undercurrent to him, even with the monster asleep. “Please, let me have you. I have wanted you for so long…” The last phrase caught your attention.

“Since when?” You pushed him away, just so you could try to get to his house before you two ended up fucking in a dirty alley. But Tyler didn’t seem deterred on the least, taking the chance to slip a hand under your shirt, running his fingers over the skin on your back. “Stop it, we gotta get indoors. After this, I’m not getting arrested for indecent exposure.”

“Since, like, sophomore year.” Tyler laughs, holding you closer still. He gently starts fixing your clothes back to normal. Now you know he is just making shit up because there is no way it has been that long for him too.

“You were kissing half the school, don't make me laugh.” You answer, and it comes way more bitter than you intended.

“Aww, are you jealous?” He mocks you, doing the buttons on your coat with steady hands. “Don’t worry, I never wanted them the way I want you.” Tyler presses a kiss to your forehead, inhaling your scent longer than he probably should.

“Yeah, sure. They weren’t half as crazy.” You let him finish dressing you, giving him a stare.

“I have wanted you since before I knew what having a crush was, but started wanting you like this when I got older. You got fucking pretty, but never looked my way.” Tyler knelt on the floor, looking for something in the pavement. Too late, you remembered the gun. Anxiety clutched at your insides with an iron fist. Had he only been tricking you? But once he got hold of it, he took the bullets out and slipped them in his pocket, as one does. His expression is completely blank. You wanted to laugh. Then, Tyler passed you the revolver, still on his knees, handle first. You grabbed it with cautious hands.

“Left you a bullet.” Tyler explained, hands raised in surrender. “I can smell your fear, you know?” You ignored his commentary, checking the chamber. Just one bullet, true. You wonder if truly his sense of smell is that sensitive.

“Never took you for a fan of Russian Roulette. Also, I watched you too, you know?”

“Yeah, all you know about me comes from your little stalking habit.” He got up from his knees. You stared at him. Was it possible he had only been entertaining you all this time? “Bunny, I can smell you. Well, the Hyde can.”

“Stop calling me that.” You grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The revolver went back into your coat. “Makes zero sense.”

“Makes total sense. You… To me, you have always been prey. Since we were kids. I didn’t understand it, back then, but I wanted to run you down.” Tyler rubs at his face, a scowl appearing on his pretty features. “I… Okay, if this doesn’t make you run for the hills and decide this is a bad idea, you will stay forever.” He finally says, lowering his voice to a whisper. Is he going to confess a deep dark secret? You hope so. Tyler has so many layers, he makes this whole thing fun. “I like the smell of fear. But I don’t like the scent of terrified, then it makes me sick, like too much of cheap vanilla perfume. You have always balanced it out well.”

You laugh because you don’t know what to say. Thank you? I'm glad you like the smell of my fear? This feels like such a surreal compliment you don't know what to say. So instead, you change the topic.

“Why didn’t you stop me from watching you?”

“I liked you watching…” His voice trails off, in a way you bet is calculated. Tyler is good at playing the charming guy like that. Just ask Wednesday. Then, he leans forward, to whisper in your ear. “And I was thinking, maybe today I could watch you instead…?” Feeling him so close, the insinuation on his words, it’s too much. A blush appears on your cheeks. You hear him snicker, and punch him in the arm lightly. But you let him wrap an arm around you and keep leading you.

That’s how you end up sitting on the bed, completely naked, Tyler's hand rubbing soothing circles on your ankle.

“Come on, show me.” He says, running his index finger along the inside of your calf. It’s awkward, being asked to touch yourself. You are not used to having an audience, to worrying about how you look. Tyler is still fully dressed, a sharp contrast to your nakedness and a way, you guess, to show who is in control. Even if you like him a lot, you find it hard to be aroused. To try to get yourself in the right mood, you rub your clit on circles, but it’s not doing much.

Tyler definitely notices because his hands come to grasp at your ankles, pulling your legs slightly more apart.

“That's how you touch yourself? Straight for the prize?” His tone is neutral. Not judging, but not forceful either. The choice is yours, in the end.

“… Yeah.” Your hands drop uselessly by your sides. You feel too self-conscious.

“You are…” He tilts his head to the side, evaluating. “Okay, this is not working. You are too tense.” Tyler crawls towards you, and presses a kiss to your cheek. “Would it be better if I was doing it too? Or… We could do something else?” It's sweet, for someone who had just been threatened with a gun. Odd, too, considering the kind of people you both are. But maybe, he is trying to build trust. God knows this relationship needs it.

“I want to try.” You complain, tugging at his shirt. You really aim to please him, for him to have what he wants. Not many people feel that way about Tyler. Certainly, not his father, who has talked more to you in a week than to his son in a month. Not Thornhill, who is too obsessed with her plan and motivations to care about his accomplice.

“Okay. “ Tyler takes off his shirt. “Sit on my lap.”

You hurry to obey, kissing him hungrily. He kisses back, matching your pace and nipping lightly at your lips. You open for him, letting him take what he wants. He breaks the kiss only when the need for air is too pressing, and even then, he presses his forehead to yours, keeping a close eye on your reactions. It’s strangely intimate.

Tyler grabs one of your hands and takes it to your neck, running it lightly over your exposed collarbones, down the valley of your breasts. Your fingers bend in his grasp, allowing him to go lower and lower, until your hand is just over your pubic bone. He helps your hand do the same path in reverse, until you are squirming for more stimulation. Then, he guides your fingers to your nipples and lets go of your hand.

“Go ahead, Bunny.” You squeeze your nipple, mystified by the sensation. You have never been really sensitive there, it’s not a place you care too much about. Tyler’s hand goes to pinch your other nipple. Your back arches a little, thighs squeezing his at the sudden burst of pleasure. So, that’s what this is supposed to feel like. “Copy what I’m doing.”

You obey, surprised to see it does work.

“Good.” Tyler says, mouthing at your shoulder. His eyes are dark. What is it about this that he likes so much? Control? You are reluctant to fight him over it, you like the idea of him having power over you. It appeals to your love of danger. “Keep going.” This time, his teeth dig in the hollow of your throat, and you can’t avoid moaning. You grind down against him, finding he is half hard already.

“How does this feel?” Tyler asks, scratching at your inner thighs. You pant, muffling your cries on his mouth because the answer is too fucking good. He seems to be playing your body like an instrument, zeroing in weak spots you didn’t know you had. “Do it yourself.”

You obey, raking your nails over the insides of your thighs, lightly. It feels odd. Not as good as when Tyler does it. You never focused too much on these areas when masturbating, you just kind of… Went for it.

“Can you do that?” You plead, looking at him with your widest, most innocent eyes. Tyler is a sucker for them, it turns out because he does. His nails, shorter than your own, scratch at your thighs until you are bucking your hips against his. He draws patterns on your legs, hands everywhere, but never where you need them the most. The desperation starts to show, hips shifting, trying to catch his hands and pull them between your legs. Tyler ignores it, eyes fixed on yours. He wants you to understand this is something you need to do yourself. He even takes his hands off you when you get too impatient. “Please, just… Keep touching me?”

“Fine.” He grumbles, but it sounds more amused than angry. “But I’m not doing all the work.”

This time, your hands go to your folds, spreading the wetness there. Having his hands on you, having him closer, makes it ten times better than before, and it looks like he knows it. You search for his knees, blindly, and place a hand there to hold yourself. The stretch of your back is more than you expected, but you make it work. Tyler wants to watch? You will give him a show.

Tyler smirks at you. He likes that you have taken the initiative, putting more space between the two of you, so he gets a better view.

“Good girl.” The compliment makes you preen, so you reward him by sliding a hand down your stomach, to cup your pussy. His hands tense around your thighs, breath hitching. You tease your clit with the tip of your finger, biting your lip to quiet your moan. Tyler’s pupils are blown, eyes fixated on your hand.

“Fuck.” He says, hand going to spread your labia, so he can have a better look. He seems unable to stop himself.

“Good?” You ask, teasing your clit until it is puffy and aching. There is something about having him look at you while you touch yourself that feels dirty, shameful even, but the embarrassment only adds to your pleasure. The way his hand feels, spreading you open, makes you think how much better it could feel if he were the one touching you. You feel yourself get wetter, slick dripping slightly. Tyler definitely notices because his eyes get wider and his index finger runs down your hole, not pressing, just mapping the route your slick is taking, towards your perineum.

“More than I expected. I thought about this, I thought about you watching me, all those nights… What did you see, Bunny? Something like this?” You can't answer because Tyler takes one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking and biting like you are his last meal. You grab on his hair, hold almost painful, with the way you are balancing on his lap. He moans and looks up at you. It’s… You don’t know, but it feels dirty, to be making eye contact when he has his mouth on you, saliva spreading everywhere. When he notices you have stopped touching yourself, he moves as if to pull away. Your hand drops his hair and goes immediately to your hole, pressing a finger inside.

“Please, Tyler. I… You had your fun.” You beg, and can feel his smirk against your skin. He likes you like this, all pretty and doing what he says, but he wants you to put more of a fight. Tyler liked you at first because you weren’t afraid of him, you were defiant. This version of you… You aren’t afraid, he can tell, but it’s like you have forgotten you have a spine.

“I guess you have been a good bunny….” Tyler does quick work of his pants and boxers and soon, he is slipping inside you. It’s easy, with how wet you are, but he keeps unmoving, eager for your reaction. He hopes you will try to take control this time. He wants to force you to stay down, to be harsher. Own you.

You don’t disappoint, bouncing desperately on his cock.

“Didn’t you want to claim me so much?” You want him to let go. Sure, it was sweet, this that he had been doing before, casual dominance getting at you. But you fell in love with the guy who locked you in a cave when you were five years old to get off on your screams, the one that jerked off to the thought of you spying on him. “At this rate, I’m the one owning you.” You need him desperate, you want him angry and riled up, so, you do the thing that you know will make him the most mad. You make a grab for his wrists, pushing him to lie on his back.

“Sometimes, I think you don’t have any sense of self-preservation.” Tyler grunts, and fights your grip. It gets messy, you are both rolling around on the bed, his hands desperately grabbing at your hips, you are pushing him down. He slips out of you at one point, you try to force him to go down, and he won’t just let you that easy.

You figure it does something to the Hyde, the idea of forcing you to submit, nipping at your neck, teeth digging hard at your nape. You arch into his mouth, confused by the sensation. It feels good, to be caught finally, but you bet this isn’t a normal reaction. Tyler rolls you over, eyes dark, and pins your wrist over your head. That, coupled with the satisfied smirk on his face as he fucks you, tells you he is making a mockery of what you had been trying to do before. You scratch at his back, angry at him, and at yourself, at the world, really. Your nails draw gashes across his skin, but it only seems to egg him on more.

“You are mine. You are mine.” He bites your shoulder, pointy canines harsh enough to draw blood. That, coupled with his hand rubbing circles on your clit, is what makes you fall apart. He does too, muffling his moan in your mouth.

“You know…” Tyler presses a tender kiss to the wound of your shoulder. “Loyalties change.”

You snort. “Does the Hyde have a new master?”

“By death.” He promises, kissing your neck next and making you squirm. “Didn’t take you for the type to want shared custody. She has to go.” And oh, it feels sweeter, better than the orgasm you just had.

[ctitan98official]

Larissa Weems gets pregnant by Y/N

18+ Minors DNI

I had to write this because there’s not enough fics of Larissa being pregnant and she would be an awesome mom. Reader, as always, is gender-neutral so head canon science, anatomy, or magic as the reason Y/N can get Larissa pregnant. Let’s get into it!

Larissa paces nervously in her office, waiting for your arrival. The school has recently hired you on as a teacher and she can’t help but be curious about the fresh face joining their faculty.

You come highly recommended and your resume is very promising, but weirdly enough, you two have actually never spoken in person. You’ve only interacted with her through video calls filled with multiple members of the school board. But, she finds herself longing to spend some time with you one-on-one. You’re very charming. She feels like she could talk to you for hours and still crave more of your time.

Larissa is suddenly brought out of her musings as the door to her office creaks open. She turns to see you standing in the doorway and her knees become weak.

Shit.

She isn’t nearly as prepared to meet you as she thought she was. It seems that the video calls didn’t do you justice. You are just so… Good-looking. In that instant, time seems to stand still. Her heart skips a beat as she locks eyes with you, feeling an undeniable connection that goes beyond mere attraction.

You quickly offer a friendly grin, enjoying the sight of the gorgeous woman in front of you. “Hi, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s a pleasure,” You say and hold out your hand to her.

Larissa feels shaky as she takes all of you in. Your eyes, your voice, your confident, but kind, smile. Oh… She really should say something right now, shouldn’t she? It feels like her mouth takes a minute to catch up with her brain, but she shakes her head to clear it. “Hello, Y/N. It’s so nice to meet you in person,” She finally says, allowing you to take her hand. Her eyes nearly roll back at how nice your skin feels against hers.

“Great to be here. The campus is beautiful. You have a lot to be proud of, Principal Weems,” You chuckle.

“Oh please, Larissa is fine,” She giggles nervously, cheeks red as tomatoes. “Jericho is such a lovely area. We’re very lucky to be able to enjoy its scenery,” She says.

Wow. Now it’s your turn to feel a bit nervous. Larissa is so warm and intelligent. And her voice… You can tell you’re going to have a crush on her soon enough.

Larissa invites you for a tour of the school and you happily accept. Although, to be honest, you’re too busy checking her out to really listen to what she’s saying… You end up getting lost on the first day of classes because of this, but it was worth it to catch the view you got of her bottom.

Your time at Nevermore was amazing from the beginning. You love teaching here.

Larissa’s infatuation with you grows stronger with each passing day. She can’t help but fantasize about you, about the raw lust that would consume her if she were to feel your touch. Her mind wanders to those secret desires, even in the most mundane of situations. You’re definitely her type. She feels guilty for thinking such dirty things about you, but to be fair, you’re doing the exact same with her.

A few months into your tenure at Nevermore, Larissa finally admits to herself that she’s starting to really love you… She has a whole freak out about it too. She’s never truly been in love before.

But, one evening, after a successful fundraiser for the school, you invite Larissa out for drinks to celebrate. It seems like the perfect opportunity to spend some quality time together outside of the confines of Nevermore.

Laughter and shared stories fill the air between you, and Larissa finds herself falling even deeper in love with you. She’s really got it bad.

As the night winds down, and the drinks flow freely, you and Larissa both let your guards down.

You finally decide to shoot your shot. You want Larissa so badly and you hope you’re not misreading her signals. “Hey… Do you maybe want to get out of here-”

“Let’s go to my place!” Larissa interrupts… Before blushing wildly.

Your eyes widen in delight at this. “Really?!” You ask and lean in closer.

Larissa can’t seem to find her words as she takes in how close your lips are to hers. She nods silently.

The undeniable tension between you ignites like a spark, and before you know it, you’re tangled in a passionate embrace. You two shamelessly kiss at the bar for a minute before you make your way to Larissa’s house. The desire you’ve repressed for so long now rages like a wildfire, and you both surrender to its intoxicating pull.

In the embrace of darkness, you explore each other’s bodies, indulging in the forbidden pleasure you’ve longed for. It’s a night filled with raw passion, where every touch, every kiss, carries an electric charge. Larissa lets you truly have your way with her and she’s never felt so satisfied.

However, as the sun peeks over the horizon and your buzz wears off, reality crashes down upon you. The weight of your actions settles heavily on your shoulders. Shit… You just had crazy hot sex with your boss. What will the school do if they find out?! You don’t really care what happens to you, but you’re worried about the fallout Larissa might face if the school takes a dim view of the situation. Before you can spiral though, a voice brings you back to the present.

“Well, good morning, darling,” Larissa suddenly purrs and runs a hand along your shoulder. She’s positively euphoric. Last night was amazing.

You turn and offer a small smile. “Hey,” You say quietly.

Larissa giggles and sits up, wrapping her arms around you. “Now, you can’t possibly tell me that you’re shy after everything you did to me last night,” She teases and places kisses down your neck.

Your cheeks burn at Larissa’s words. Why does it have to be like this? You want her so badly, but you can’t have her.

The only way you can get yourself to leave is to hurriedly make an excuse to head out. Clean break. “I’ve got some… Work I need to do,” You tell her, immediately putting your clothes back on and leaving.

Larissa is bewildered and crushed at your departure. Did she… Do something wrong?

The days that follow are filled with avoidance. You seem to grow distant, and Larissa’s heart aches at the sudden and unexpected change in your behavior. She longs for your presence, your touch, but she can’t find the courage to reach out.

It breaks your heart whenever you walk around campus and see Larissa staring longingly in your direction. You want nothing more than to hold her, but you can’t risk it. You aren’t going to ruin her career. She’s too important.

A few weeks after you two hooked up, Larissa begins to feel strange symptoms she can’t explain. She finds herself nauseous and exhausted, her body no longer feeling like her own. Fear washes over her. Is it an illness? No, probably not. She must just be… Depressed. Right?

But, as she wakes up and instantly goes to vomit for the third morning this week, a tiny flicker of realization arises. Could she be…?

Finally gathering the strength to confront her suspicion, Larissa buys a pregnancy test and anxiously waits for the results. Seconds turn into eternity, but as the word “Pregnant” appears on the stick, Larissa’s heart swells with a mix of shock and joy.

While this isn’t how she imagined it would happen, being a mother has been a dream of hers for so long. She laughs and brings a hand to her mouth in disbelief as tears trail down her face. A baby… She’s going to be a mommy. She’s so happy.

But, while she processes the news, her mind quickly flicks to you. The baby is yours. Fuck. How the hell is she going to tell you?! She can’t even get you to look at her for more than a second or two whenever you see her.

This… Complicates things.

Masterlist

[robinbuckleysgfreall]

Haii would you ever be so kind to write Wednesday ( ˊ(❢)ˋ ) and shy y/n Fluff & Smut❤️‍🔥💗? And possibly head canons of Wednesday hot and bothered please 🙏🏽

Wednesday hot and bothered head-canons

The idea of getting Wednesday all flustered 😫 I’ll write the first request soon!!

Warnings: sexual references not too explicit, kind of fluffy, flustered Wednesday

Wednesday never really noticed how you made her feel until after the whole crackstone debacle. She always thought that weird feeling in her stomach she got when around you just her being on edge because of the monster. It wasn’t until after she had defeated crackstone that she started noticing her feelings for you more much to her disgust at first

Every time you smiled at her across the room she would glare back and turn away trying to ignore the flushed feeling feeling in her ever so pale face.

She hated when she had to sit next to you in class because every time your legs would accidentally brush under the table it would give her the worst butterflies forcing her to clamp her legs together to relieve the tension, she would always rush out of class as soon as the bell ran to get away from you so you wouldn’t see how flustered she got

Wednesday usually loved unsettling feelings but she was not sure how to process these feelings. I mean the last time she opened herself up to someone they turned out to be a monster but Wednesday concluded all men are monsters

Wednesday has masturbated before, she never really thought of it much as a pleasurable thing just something the human body needed to get done. But it wasn’t long until she found her head clouded with thoughts of you as she did, the way you applied your chapstick to you plush lips of the way you would skip through Jericho on the weekends in those ever so short skirts of yours. Not that she was looking

Wednesday tried to feel disgusted with herself feelings, were not her thing buf she couldn’t help it. she only vowed to never love a man so i guess she could lov- no absolutely not

Meanwhile this was all happening you were trying your hardest to get closer to Wednesday, make her like you more so you devised a plan with enid (who had already sussed out the crush you and Wednesday both unknowingly hd on eachother)

The plan was for Enid to tell wednesday to meet her at the weathervane to study but send you instead and message Wednesday that she couldn’t make it so that’s why she sent you. Fool proof plan right?

“Why did you and enid trick me?” Wednesday asked her face expressionless. “W-wgat? No enid couldnt com-“ you started and Wednesday interrupted “save your embarrassing excuses if you wanted to see me you could have just said” Wednesday continued and you caught her blink, a rare sight.

After your little date you walked Wednesday back to her dorm and said goodbye. Before she could enter her room you placed a quick kiss to her cheek making her blink rapidly and blush. You looked away bracing yourself for her to be mad but she responded saying “that’ll cost you a finger you know” before smiling awkwardly and entering her dorm.

You giggled at her joke and made your way back to your own dorm thinking of how crazy it is that you made Wednesday Addams blush.

Idk if this is any good but yeahhh. Making Wednesday nervous would be so fun tbh but also sleep with one eye open.

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 3: Step 3: The not-date

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-worked. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came it Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

I let them shenan once, now they've shenaned again- also this fic will sort of follow canon, but fuck it where I decide I want to. They joys of being a writer. Also so sorry this update took forever, I was depressed as fuck. Love ya 🦐

Chapter 2

Cross Posted on AO3 Here

HTWAHP Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So you’re telling me, the woman of your dreams, the one you’ve been in love with for months-“

“It’s-it’s just a crush let’s not-“

“The very woman you have literally not shut up about since meeting,” James continues, ignoring you, “invites you to accompany her to the harvest festival coming up and you don’t see it as a date?”

“We don’t even know if she likes women let alone me.” You argue.

“Babe you need to open those brilliant little eyes of yours. Of course she’s gay.”

“You don’t know that for sure-“

“No, but I do know no straight woman would experience your sorry ass flirting with them and invite you to the fucking harvest festival.”

You groan, dropping your head against the coffee machine. James had been arguing with you for at least half an hour on whether or not Larissa Weems had invited you on a date when she had asked you to join her at the harvest festival. Now, having only just moved to Jericho you honestly had no idea what the harvest festival even was. Did that stop you from immediately saying yes when she asked though? Absolutely not. You figured any time spent with Larissa, no matter what it was you ended up doing, was time well spent.

However, you did ask James what it was (your first mistake). Which was how you had ended up in this little argument.

“Even if she is gay, she’s so far out of my league.”

“While that may be true-“

“Ouch, thanks for the vote of confidence.” You interrupt, earning you a slap on the arm.

“She seems to want to spend time with you. So you must be doing something right. Anyway, my shift is over but we will talk more about this tomorrow.”

“Oh no, however will I survive without your constant teasing and invasive questions.” You comment.

“I know, you’ll truly suffer. Maybe I’ll ask Galpin to join in on the teasing that way-“

“Don’t involve that poor kid in your devious plans, he need not be corrupted by you.”

He leaves at that with a snort, waving as he goes. Tyler arrives a little while later, giving you a shy wave before getting behind the counter. You decide to take your break, things being a bit quiet at this time of day and let Tyler know before heading into the back.

So all in all, a very normal day so far.

So imagine your surprise when you came back in to find Tyler standing next to Wednesday surrounded by three sad looking pilgrim boys who were laying on the floor groaning in pain. Truly it was almost comical, almost.

“What in the name of fuck happened in here? I was gone for like 10 minutes!” You asked.

“Well-“ Tyler started, only to be interrupted by someone coming through the front door.

And that someone was none other than Sheriff Galpin. You really had nothing against him personally but any and all law enforcement just put you on edge.

“What happened in here?” He asked, eyeing the boys on the ground and then Wednesday.

“They were harassing a customer, she just defended herself,” Tyler replied.

“You mean to tell me this tiny girl beat up these three?”

“I’m sure this was her showing restraint,” you mumble, coming to stand behind the two teens. “Anyway now that that’s all cleared up-“

You’re interrupted by a very troubled and frustrated Larissa stepping through the door. She glances at the boys on the floor, pursing her lips before levelling Wednesday with a look that could make anyone burst into tears.

“Sheriff, apologies. This one…slipped away from me,” she apologizes, “Come on Miss Addams, time to go.” She grits.

“Addams? Is Gomez Addams your father?” The sheriff asks, eyeing Wednesday with what you can only call malice. At Wednesday’s nod, he continues.

“That man should be behind bars. I'm guessing the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I'll have my eye on you.” He warns before storming out.

The four of you look at each other, Larissa’s glare burning holes into Wednesday’s head, while Tyler looks embarrassed and confused.

“Tyler, no offense really, but your dad is a prick.” You say.

“Sorry.” He sighs.

“You two are all right though? None of these prissy pilgrims hurt either of you?” You ask, giving each of them a cursory check.

“Yeah Wednesday handled it, you should’ve seen her-“ Tyler starts but stops himself when he notices the intense glaring match between Larissa and Wednesday.

“Right well, Wednesday,” you start, hoping to ease the tension a bit. “I’m sorry these boys caused trouble for you. But you two probably have to get back to nevermore?”

“Yes. We do. Miss Addams, please go wait in the car. And don’t run off this time or else,” Larissa threatens, earning a huff from the girl as she exits the shop.

“It seems you’ve got an escape artist with you.” You joke.

“I do apologize. Wednesday is- she-“ she sighs rubbing her face.

“Hey it’s okay,” you start grabbing her forearm and squeezing it reassuringly. “Are you alright? Need anything?”

She shakes her head, and you must be imagining things because it almost looks like she’s blushing.

“No, I should get her back before she tries to escape again.”

“She’s probably already hatching plans. But remember I’m always here. Or just a phone call away. However, I don’t have the arm strength for digging graves so...”

She snorts at that, shaking her head and grabbing your hand, giving it a squeeze before leaving. You watch her go, smiling before turning around to see Tyler grinning at you.

“What?”

“So you and Principal Weems huh?” He snorts.

———————————————————————

You had to admit, for a small town, Jericho did know how to hold a pretty cool festival.

You were standing at the entrance to the harvest festival taking in the sight. There were stalls with games set up (no doubt rigged to hell and gone) and various carnival rides set up. You were a little impressed with how well put together the event seemed.

But the time to lose your money at carnival games and eat overpriced food was later. You had to find Larissa.

Honestly, it wasn’t hard, for one she was a walking goddess and tall as fuck so she was easy to spot. And second, the minute you saw Wednesday Addams, you found Larissa close by.

You stopped when you spotted her, standing in her greenish(the lighting wasn’t helping your color analysis) jacket with gloves on. She almost looked out of place; someone who dressed so prim and proper at a little festival with sticky food and children screaming. But she really did always look immaculate.

You decided to stop staring at her like a creep and hurried over to her. She was currently standing at one of the booths, feigning interest in the prizes but actually watching Wednesday. She was so focused on the girl that she didn’t even notice you standing next to her. You stood there for a solid minute before whispering.

“Worried she’ll pull another escape attempt?”

You had expected to scare her, yes, but what you hadn’t anticipated was Larissa letting out the most adorable shriek. She turns to face you, sporting a slight blush and clearing her throat.

“Ahem, sorry about that you uh- you startled me.” She stammers

You giggle, actually giggle, and immediately slap a hand over your mouth, slightly mortified. The two of you stand side by side, embarrassed and blushing like two teenagers. Speaking of teens, not ten seconds later a smirking Wednesday and beaming Enid appear in front of you both.

“Miss Sinclair, Miss Addams,” Larissa starts, regaining her composure, “I hope you two are enjoying yourselves.”

“Oh immensely. Bright lights and laughter are where I feel most at home.” Wednesday deadpans, earning a snort from you.

“I’m super excited. Wednesday said she’d try win me a prize!” Enid squeals.

“Oh? She did?” You ask, grinning. “That’s so nice of you Wednesday.”

You swear you see her cheeks turn pink before she huffs and walks away, mumbling to herself. Enid apologizes before running off, leaving you and Larissa alone again.

“They’re totally in love.” You comment.

“Indeed, I wonder which of them will figure it out first.” Larissa chuckles.

“I’m putting my money on Enid. She seems more in tune with her emotions.”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Miss Addams, she can be quite intuitive when she wants to be.”

“I don’t know, she seems the type to avoid her feelings as long as she can.”

She snorts at that before linking her arm with yours and heading further into the festival. She started telling you about the previous years’ harvest festivals and how she often spent them. You noticed she liked to talk with her hands, well hand in this case.

She soon dragged you over to a table and told you to wait while she went to get what she called “the best by far” hamburgers from a stall nearby. You sat at the table, quickly checking your messages when Wednesday appeared in front of you carrying a rather large stuffed panda.

“Did you win that for Enid?” You asked.

“It’s for Weems. You give it to her.” You said shoving the big guy in your direction.

“Wait what? Why did you- and she’s gone.” You remarked watching her black pigtails disappear in the crowd.

A few moments later Larissa returned with the food. She sat next to you, handing you a burger before speaking.

“You must try these, I look forward to them each year.” She smiled, before noticing the panda. “Where did you get that?”

“Oh uh- well actually it’s for you?” You started, picking up the bear and holding it toward her, “you’d never guess who-“

You had squeezed the lil guy when all of a sudden a voice played from it.

“I love you!”

You froze, staring at the bear and feeling your cheeks heat up. Of all prizes Wednesday could’ve given you, she gave you the one that said that? You wanted to believe she had no idea but a part of you wondered if this wasn’t revenge for your teasing earlier.

“I-I didn’t- I had no idea it would-“ you stammered.

She chuckled, pulling the bear out of your hands and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“That’s very sweet, thank you darling.”

You’d have to thank Wednesday later (assuming she hadn’t tried to run away again). Larissa put the bear down on the bench before sitting down next to you bumping your shoulder with hers before instructing you to start eating.

The two of you sat and ate, and goddamn she was right the burgers really were delicious. Not that you doubted her. Although the entire experience would’ve been a lot less magical had it not been for Larissa sitting next to you, so close your shoulders were touching as she happily ate her burger and spoke to you between bites.

The two of you then headed back into the festivities. You insisted on trying to win Larissa another stuffed animal (you wanted it to be from you, not from Wednesday, even if the one you ended up winning was a considerably smaller stuffed duck.)

You had to admit, it did feel like a date. You kept trying to stop yourself from thinking like that, Larissa was just being friendly and you hadn’t really had a close friend who was a woman for years so you had no idea if this was just regular friendship or she was actually flirting with you.

But you pushed all those thoughts aside and just enjoyed the time you were spending with her. Well, you were enjoying your time together before a young girl came running up to Larissa, she honestly looked like she’d seen a ghost.

“Principal Weems I- I’m sorry to interrupt but Wednesday said Rowan’s been attacked and-and killed in the woods. I don’t- she said it was some kind of monster? I-“ she stammers, obviously troubled.

“Alright, deep breaths. Okay, there we go. Right. Go find Miss Thornhill and tell her to get her to gather the rest of the students and head back to Nevermore. I’ll call the sheriff and be with you shortly. It’ll be alright Miss Barclay, thank you for coming to me.” She says, ushering the girl away.

Bianca nods before turning on her heel and running off to find the teacher Larissa mentioned. Larissa turns to you, smiling apologetically.

“I’m sorry darling. This is not how I envisioned this evening ending. I need to go but promise me you’ll head straight home? If-if there is any merit to Wednesday’s story I would be beside myself if something were to happen to you.” She murmurs squeezing your hand.

You nod, assuring her you understand and you’ll head home. You urge her to be careful and you’re about to let her leave before you stop her.

“Give me your phone.” You ask, holding out your hand.

“Darling I- what?”

“I’m putting my number in your phone so you can message me when you get back to Nevermore, safe and sound.” You insist.

She looks shocked for a moment, then confused before finally settling on a rather flustered expression before handing you her phone. You hand it back to her after adding yourself as a contact(you saved yourself as ‘Favorite Barista’ which makes her chuckle.) you reiterate that she has to message you when she returns to Nevermore and give her a kiss on the cheek before ushering her away. As soon as her blushing form is out of sight you head back to your car and drive home.

It’s only after you’ve entered your small apartment that your actions register. You are absolutely mortified that you behaved the way you did and can’t help but overthink every action for the next hour or so. You’re wallowing in self-loathing and misery when your phone pings with a new message.

You quickly check who it’s from, noticing the unknown number and hastily open the message.

Hello darling, it’s Larissa. I’m back at Nevermore, safe and sound. There was no sign of Rowan, despite Wednesday’s adamance about what she saw. All this to say, everything is fine.

You sigh, relieved she and the kids are safe. You’re about to send a reply when another message comes through.

And thank you for looking out for me tonight. It’s been a while since anybody has worried for my safety. I appreciate your care.❤️

[atlabeth]

enigma - tyler galpin

summary: you're the new girl at weathervane with a penchant for staying silent. tyler is the guy who's going to get to know you or die trying.

a/n: watched wednesday, thought tyler was hot, and now we're here. wrote this instead of my final paper due on sunday. help

wc: 3.6k

warning(s): short mention of death, some emotional damage but basically all fluff. no canon stuff just coffee shop, forced proximity hijinks

Tyler rubbed his eyes with one hand as he walked across the street, raising the other to thank the oncoming driver for letting him cross. It was still dark outside, so early that the sun hadn’t yet risen, and it was moments like these that he questioned why he decided to work at a coffee shop. 

His paychecks said part-time employee, but the hours he worked suggested full-time. He closed last night, and yet here he was at the ass-crack of dawn opening. 

Maybe it was time to start searching again, he thought absentmindedly, because this was beginning to wear on him. 

But when he got to the door, there was a girl standing there, leaning against the wall with arms crossed and a distant gaze. Jeans and a rainbow striped tee, battered Converse—devastatingly attractive. 

Tyler blinked. Cleared his throat, cleared his mind. 

“Uh, we’re not open yet.” Your attention snapped to him and he jerked his thumb at the sign hanging behind the glass doors. “But we open in thirty minutes—you can hang out here until then if you want?” 

“I’m not a customer,” you said, and you pulled something out of your pocket. A nametag, one that matched his own. Oh. “Today’s my first day. Thought I would get an early start.” 

Tyler frowned. “Peyton didn’t say anything about new employees.” 

You shrugged as you tucked it back into your pocket. “Guess she forgot. I signed my contract last week, so I work here.”  

“...Okay,” he said slowly. It wasn’t worth fighting over, and there were most definitely worse things than pulling the opening shift with a girl that looked like you. “Welcome to the Weathervane crew, I guess.” 

He unlocked the door and held it open for you, then walked in after you. “Are you new to Jericho? I don’t think I’ve seen you around here.” 

“You could say that.” You walked together into the backroom where you set your bag down, grabbing an apron from one of the hooks as you tied it around your waist. Tyler expected you to elaborate, but instead you just walked back into the cafe. 

“Not much for conversation, are you?” he asked dryly as he followed you, and he tied his own apron on before adjusting his nametag. 

“I’m here to get a paycheck,” you said, “not get to know you.” You looked at him. “Tell me what to do so we can get this place opened.”

He paused. “Are you a Nevermore kid?” 

You frowned. “The hell is Nevermore?” 

“You really are new here,” he marveled. 

“What, did you not believe me?” One side of your mouth quirked up in a little half-smile, and he found himself unable to look away for the short moment it lasted. “Seems like a weird thing to lie about.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Jericho can be a weird place.”

“Yeah,” you said, “really weird. I heard that the baristas take really long to open in the morning.” 

Tyler just shook his head with a small chuckle. “Fine. You start cleaning the front, I’ll get the machines ready. Then we’ll get everything ready together.” 

You nodded, grabbed a broom from the back, and got to work.

Well, he thought wryly, at least they would be productive today. 

-

You were there the next morning as he walked over, in the same spot leaning against the wall. This time, though, you sported leggings, a black tee, and a letterman. The same beat-up Converse, he noticed. 

Tyler raised his eyebrows as he gestured at your jacket. “You play anything?” 

“No,” you said. Once again, you didn’t elaborate. 

He sighed. He could deal with it a little better this time—a wonder what adequate sleep could do for him. 

“Y’know, you don’t have to wait for me to get here every time you open,” he said, and once again he held the door open for you after he’d unlocked it. You filed inside, and he followed. “I’m not always this punctual.” 

“I don’t have a key,” you said. 

“Oh.” He frowned. “Uh, I can get you a spare. We keep them in the backroom—Peyton’ll be fine with it. She probably just forgot to give you one.” 

You nodded, and that was that. 

- 

Tyler didn’t see you for two weeks after that, all your shifts scheduled at different times or on each other’s off days. He didn’t make a habit of going into the Weathervane on his days off, not wanting to get more tired than he already was of the place that gave him half his livelihood. 

The next time he did, actually, was at the end of his morning shift. He raised his eyebrows as he saw you come in—cardigan, jeans, Converse—and couldn’t help the small smile. 

“Business or pleasure?” he asked as you walked in. 

“Business,” you said. “I’m the one filling your shift.” 

“Ah.” Tyler tapped his fingers against the counter and started undoing his apron, his eyes following you as you walked around and into the backroom. “Y’know, it’s been a while since I’ve seen you. Are you avoiding me?” 

You frowned. “I barely know you.” 

“It was—” he chuckled awkwardly— “it was a joke. I know you’re not avoiding me.” 

And once again, you let him flounder in the silence. 

“But, uh,” he tried again, “the reason you barely know me is because you don’t talk at all. I know you can make coffee and you like Converse, but that’s all.” 

You glanced down at your shoes for a moment, as if surprised he even noticed, then your brow furrowed. “I told you, Tyler, this is a job. I’m here for a paycheck. We don’t need to be friends.” 

“Yeah, but I always try to make friends with my coworkers.” He offered a slight smile and shrugged. “It makes it a lot nicer.”

You looked at him for a good, long moment before you turned around and went back into the cafe.

Tyler blew out a loose sigh. Strike two, he thought dryly. 

But you said his name. And right now, that was as close to a win as he was going to get. 

-

The next time you ended up taking over his shift, you just walked in, put on your apron, clocked in, and got to work. Zero acknowledgement, zero conversation. 

Tyler sighed. He needed to start a count of how many times he did it while he worked with you. 

-

And that was how your shifts together went for a month. 

A month. A whole thirty days of barely any talking to his coworker during half of his shifts. 

You— you weren’t mean. You did your job well, you were pretty damn good at making coffee, and you were pleasant enough to all the customers. Your silence didn’t hinder his work either—you communicated when you had to, just nothing above work conversation. 

Tyler knew that because he had tried to start a normal conversation up more times than he could count. Each and every time you either shut it down or just left him to flounder in silence.

Silent or not, though, you were a good worker, and that put you above most of the baristas he’d worked with in the past. He didn’t have any rational right to complain. 

So Tyler didn’t know why he had a growing urge to talk to you, to get to know you. There was just something about you he couldn’t shake, something about you that demanded his attention. Maybe it was just the mystery of it all—he had always liked the chase. 

You were an enigma. And it was driving him crazy. 

“Tyler!” 

Your voice calling his name snapped him out of his haze, and he blinked a few times before he turned around. You were closing together tonight, meaning he had another one of your signature silent nights to look forward to. He was cleaning up the front and you were organizing a bunch of equipment in one of the closets. But you’d only actually said his name twice before, so this meant something. 

“Yeah?” he responded, glancing away from the table he was cleaning. 

“Where’s the stepladder? I need to put something on the top shelf.” 

“I’ll get it,” he said, and he set the towel on the table before he went over to their utility closet. 

“Thanks,” you said as he placed it down, and you climbed up to the top with one hand around a coffee maker.  

“Wow,” Tyler said as he watched, “you actually thanked me for something. That’s a first.” 

Instead of a snarky response, or sarcasm, or literally anything that anyone else would give, you just said nothing. And he sighed, as he usually did in your presence. 

“What are you putting that away for?” 

“It broke,” you said. “You can talk to Peyton about getting a new one.” 

“Why me?” he frowned. 

“She knows you more,” you said, “and she likes you more.” 

“If you actually talked to people, they would get the chance to like you more.” 

You rolled your eyes as you climbed down the ladder, but as you reached the bottom the door slammed shut. You scoffed, but Tyler had a different reaction. His eyes widened, and he immediately started patting down his pockets. 

“There’s gotta be a draft in this cafe or something,” you muttered as you walked over to the door and twisted the doorknob. Nothing happened. 

“It won’t open,” Tyler said, a bit of panic rising in his voice as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Front and back, but still nothing. “That— that door locks automatically when it closes.” 

You whirled around, your eyes wide as his. “What?” 

“It locks on its own,” he said, his voice strained, “and the key’s in the breakroom.” 

You shook your head and moved away from the door. “Do you have your phone? You can call someone to get us out of here.” 

“My phone’s in my jacket,” he mumbled. “I’m guessing that means you don’t have yours?” 

Your hands clenched into fists for a moment before you shook your head. “I just had to wear pants without pockets today.” 

You moved back over to the door and tried the handle again, but still, nothing happened. And again, and again, and—

“It’s not going to open on the tenth time you try,” Tyler interrupted.  

“If it doesn’t open,” you said, annoyed, “then that means we’re stuck in here. And I am not going to be stuck in here.” 

Tyler tossed up his hands as he leaned against the wall. “Well, it looks like we are. Perfect way to end the night.” 

You tried the door one more time, for good measure, he guessed, and then hit your fist against it hard when it didn’t work. “Who designs a door like this?” you exclaimed in frustration. 

“Whoever built this place,” he said. 

Then, maybe just for emphasis, you rammed your foot against the door. 

“And still, nothing happened,” Tyler said. 

“I don’t need your sarcasm right now,” you snapped. 

“At least I’m giving something!” he exclaimed. “If my coworker was a piece of cardboard instead of you, I literally wouldn’t notice a difference. You’re wooden.” 

“I’m sorry that I don’t have riveting conversation for you at my second job,” you grumbled. 

“You have two jobs?” 

“This place doesn’t have the greatest pay,” you said dryly. 

“And in two minutes locked in a closet, I’ve learned more about you than I have in a whole month of working with you.” Tyler shook his head. “I just don’t get it.” 

“There’s nothing to get,” you said. “I don’t care about small talk.” 

“It’s not just small talk,” he said. “You don’t do any kind of talk.” 

“And why does that bother you so much?” 

“Because I want to get to know you!” Tyler exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Is that so hard to believe that someone wants to be your friend?” 

You stared at him with your brows knit. “Why do you want to be my friend?” 

“Because you’re my coworker?” he said, and he counted it off on his fingers. “Because you’re someone I see a lot, because I want to get to know you, because there’s something about you that I want to figure out. Is that enough reasons for you?” 

You scoffed. “You’re ridiculous.” 

Tyler just shook his head and huffed an incredulous laugh. “Oh my god. This is going to be the longest night of my life.” 

- 

It had been an hour since your little tiff. 

You were sat on the floor, your knees pulled up to your chest and your arms crossed as usual, staring at nothing as usual. 

Tyler was leaning against one of the shelves, a bag of flour in his hands as he read the back of it. He’d already been through a bag of cocoa powder, baking soda, and powdered sugar. 

He didn’t know how he was going to make it through to the morning shift’s rescue. 

“I live on Beechwood Lane,” you said suddenly. 

Tyler blinked, wondering if he heard correctly. Were you actually the one to break the silence? 

“What?” 

“You said you wanted to get to know me,” you said, flourishing with one of your hands. “There you go.” 

“That’s not getting to know you,” Tyler said. “That’s— that’s the most basic thing you could’ve told me. Tons of people live on Beechwood.” 

“What do you want then?” you said, obviously frustrated. 

“Anything,” he said. “Anything about you, that’s actually about you. Why are you in Jericho, for starters?” 

Your lips twisted into a slight frown. “Family reasons.” 

“That’s it?” 

Your frown deepened as you looked up at him. “My grandmother lives here, and her health took a turn for the worse. I’m here to take care of her.” 

“...Oh.” Tyler suddenly felt ashamed, pushing for an answer for something as personal as that. “I— I’m sorry.” 

You shrugged. “It is what it is. I’m here so I don’t have to deal with any more sorrys in the future.” 

“Is that why you have two jobs?” he asked. 

“Part of the reason,” you said. “Medical bills are expensive. So is college.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “College?” 

“Gap year,” you said. “...My parents couldn’t afford to pay for it, so I’ve been saving up since my first job freshman year. And now that some of it’s going to my grandmother…” 

“You have to make up the difference on your own,” Tyler said. 

You nodded. “Might have to pick up a third if I’m lucky.” 

“Geez,” he muttered. “I only have this job for some extra cash and to get away from my dad.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Your dad?” 

“He’s the sheriff.” Tyler sighed. “He has all the time in the world for his job, but none for me. I figured I might as well make some money if I’m gonna be on my own all the time.” 

“Smart.” 

Tyler chucked. “I like to think so.” 

“You asked about my letterman,” you said. 

“You remember that?” 

You shrugged. “It’s my dad’s. He played football in high school, and he gave it to me when I graduated. A way to remember him whenever he was deployed.” 

“That’s sweet,” he said. “That’s… yeah. That’s nice.” 

Tyler hesitated for a moment, then pushed himself up from the wall. He walked over and sat down next to you, and he took it as a win when you didn’t bristle or flinch or move away. He also took the breath exhaled through your nose as a laugh, and therefore as another win. 

“What about the reason you don’t like talking to anyone?” Tyler asked. “Are we at that base yet?” 

“I’m new here,” you said. “Been here for a few months, getting a lay of the land while I take care of my grandmother. But I’m either going to leave to go to college, when she gets better, or…” You shook your head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to be gone soon enough, therefore there’s no point in making friends. Especially with co-workers.” 

He frowned as he looked at you. “That’s a sad way to look at things.” 

“Why? I’m going to leave eventually, and if I make friends, I have to leave them too. It’s a clean break.” 

“Yeah, but…” Tyler chuckled mirthlessly. “You don’t know how long you’re going to be here—that could mean months of just keeping to yourself, working every single day at your jobs and then working even more when you get home, and you don’t even have anyone else to talk to at the end of the day. That can’t be any easier.” 

“I’ve been moving around all my life,” you said. “Military brat. I know that a clean break is always easier.” 

Tyler was silent for a moment. He felt bad for you, that you had these self-imposed walls around you, so high that you wouldn’t let anyone through. But he knew you probably didn’t want his sympathy. 

“How about one person?” he asked. 

You glanced at him. “I’m assuming you want that role.” 

Tyler shrugged. “Why not?” 

“Because you’re a person in this town that I’ll eventually leave behind,” you said. “You’re nothing special.” 

“Ouch,” he said with mock hurt. “Nothing special?” 

You rolled your eyes, but he noticed the smallest smile on your lips. “Why are you so insistent on getting to know me?” 

“Because I know what it’s like to not have anyone,” he said. “My mom died a while ago, and my dad hasn’t been the same since. He throws himself into his work, and that doesn’t leave him much time for father-son bonding.”

Your brows knit together. “I’m sorry.” 

“It is what it is, right?” he said dryly. “I wasn’t in the greatest place for a while. All the friends I made were jerks, so I was a jerk. By the time I finally dropped them, I was basically alone. And that’s where I’ve been for the past year. Part-time barista, full time loner.” 

Tyler looked at you again. “So that’s why I’m not just gonna let you go on with your clean break. No matter how infallible you act, I know that it hurts. Because it hurt me too.” 

You looked at him for a good, long moment, your eyes unusually soft, before you held out your hand and said your full name. 

“Tyler Galpin,” he said as he shook it, and he couldn’t help his smile. “Does this mean we’re friends now?” 

“It means we’re still locked in a closet together for the night and I don’t feel like being on your bad side,” you said. Tyler just laughed. 

“You’re something else.” 

-

The rest of the night was… interesting. 

The two of you talked more than you had during any of your shifts. 

You told him about all the traveling you did as a kid, from California to Texas to Germany and a bundle of other states and countries. You told him about your aspirations to become a child psychologist so you could help kids in a way that you never got. You told him about your grandmother, how you tried to stay strong for her and your parents but it was terrifying being the only one there for her apart from some call-in nurses. You told him more than you ever anticipated, but… it felt good. 

Tyler told you about the months after his mother’s death, the toll it took on him and his father. He told you what it was like to grow up as the sheriff’s son, how sometimes he felt more like a shiny symbol of his father’s success than his son. He told you about his old asshole friends, how he used to be just like them. He told you more than he ever anticipated, but… it felt good. 

Somewhere in the middle, the two of you fell asleep. 

And when Tyler woke a few hours later and saw your head against his shoulder, the slight rise and fall of your chest, your arms crossed around your midsection, he couldn’t help but smile. 

-

“What the hell are you two doing in here?” 

Tyler jolted as his eyes flew open, meeting the confused expression of one of his co-workers. Jackson, if he remembered correctly. Opening shift was finally here. 

“We got locked in last night,” Tyler said, and he elbowed you to get you to wake up as well. “Door closed on us, and we didn’t have the key or our phones.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “Good goin’, Galpin. You didn’t close last night, so you’re helping me open.” 

“That’s fine,” Tyler said, and he walked away. He looked back down at you and said your name. “Hey. Morning shift freed us.” 

Your eyes cracked open, and you grimaced a bit. “Finally,” you mumbled. 

He smiled a bit. “You gonna get up?” 

It took you a moment, but when you noticed that you were laying against him, you immediately jumped up and put distance between the two of you. You cleared your throat as you smoothed out the wrinkles in your clothes. “I’m not responsible for what I do when I’m asleep.” 

Tyler laughed a bit. “I know.” 

He got up after you, and the two of you walked out of the closet together. He was surprised that his first thought wasn’t how thankful he was to be out—rather, he was thankful that it had happened. Maybe all it took to get to know people was to get stuck in a tiny place together overnight.

“We’re helping Jackson open, by the way,” he said. “As payment for, uh— not closing last night.” 

“Fine,” you said. 

“...So,” Tyler said, glancing over at you. “Now that we’re no longer locked in a closet together, are we still friends?” 

You rolled your eyes, but that small smile tugged at your lips once again. “Sure. As long as you don’t let it go to your head.” 

A smile of his own formed and Tyler nodded. “I would never.” 

Enigma no more.

-

perm tags: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin @maruchan77 @simonsbluee @kwyloz @masteroperator @louderfortheback 

[alaspice]

𝐒𝐨𝐥 𝟎𝟏

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Xavier Thorpe x Reader 

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲:  Two years is a long time to be away from Nevermore

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: will be listed when they apply 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.8k

a/n this starts pre-canon in the school year before Wednesday shows up, This is big time Slow Burn, strap in

Next

Your father’s gaze was not on you this day. Dark clouds hung low and heavy, threatening rain at any moment. Not a glimpse of sunlight was able to peek through. While you usually would have been happy to be out of his all seeing eye, having a parent right now would have been nice. You wanted the lush leather of the office arm chair to swallow you whole. 

“Before we start, I just wanted to say how sorry I am for your loss” Principal Weems tried to be comforting, but it was a phrase you had heard too many times in the past few months.

“Thank you, ma’am.” you never knew how to respond to it either.

“Now.” the older woman spun her chair around so she could reach for a desk drawer. You could hear the click of her heels on the floor as she turned. At her distraction, you spared a glance out of the window. Through the thin curtains you could see forms of people. You could get a flash of a vibrant coat or the shape of a cart rolling belongings around. Weems came back up with a manila folder.

“I understand you have been homeschooled these past two years by your mother.” You nodded your head “your academics are not in question, all of your work has been looked over and is more than adequate for you to be able to continue here.” She turned a page, pausing briefly in her speech to scan the document. “Now, your previous dorm room has been filled already, but I can still put you in Ophelia Hall. How does that sound?” 

While it came from a place of good, Principal Weems was trying to be gentle with you; as if a single misspoken word would send you into a frenzy.

“That would be great, thank you.” 

“Excellent.” she did some more scanning “Now, I would think your old uniform is a tad too small for you now, so I’ve had a new set sent to your room. Your schedule,” she pronounced it so Britishly “and other papers are all here, so all that’s left is to get you settled in.” she slid the file over to you. As you reach out to grab it, Weems placed her hand over yours, pulling back almost instantly at the heat. 

“Sorry ma’am. 

“Quite alright.” She examined her hand for any burns. In finding none, she continued “Now I know these past few years have not been easy for you, (Y/N). If you ever need anything, I want you to tell me, alright.” You nodded again, looking directly into her eye “Your guardian has also asked that I set you up with someone local to help you through these times.” You felt your stomach drop “We have a trusted therapist in Jericho who has been excellent in the past. It is all very discrete and...”

“Thank you, Principal Weems.” you cut her off, sliding the folder off of the desk. You stood. “Will that be all?” 

“Yes, dinner is at 7 but, uh, you remember that.” you nodded your head “Do you need help moving in?” she looked at you with a motherly care in her eye. 

“No, I should be good.” You walked to the door. “Have a nice day.”

 The road leading to Nevermore Academy was packed with cars of all types. Decadent chauffeur cars were parked neatly along the side while battered minivans and what could only be described as grandpa cars sat crooked on the grass. You made your way along the drive until stopping at a large wheeled wrangler. While the inside was empty of people, you could see the edges of wings from the top of the car. 

“Ya know, I think it’s soooo fuckin’ dumb that I couldn’t be in there with ya.” The voice was feminine, alto in nature with slightest hint of a Boston accent. “I may not be ya blood, but I’m still ya god damn legal guardian.” 

“It’s alright, it’s not like you missed much.” your shoes scuffed against the asphalt “It was just my schedule and stuff. Plus the mandatory sorry for your loss speech” There was a bark of laughter as a response “Besides, you can still help me move in.” A slight groan broke through the amusement of the being on the top of the car, but she was still laughing. You walked around to the back of the wrangler and opened the trunk. 

“You didn’t tell me you wanted me to go to therapy while I was here.” The laughter stopped. A horned head emerged from the top car, red eyes looking down at you. Loose strand of dark hair fell forward, making a sort of curtain. 

“It’s for my peace of mind, (Y/N). It’ll make me sleep bettah knowing ya got someone here for ya: just to check in.” she paused “Sorry I didn’t tell ya.” 

“It’s okay, Leto.” In all honesty, you weren’t mad at all. It warmed your heart to know she worried about you that much. You picked up one of your bags, slinging it over your shoulder. 

“You gonna help me or what?” 

 A loud thump shook the car as Leto slid off the top.  

“Ya lucky I like you.” 

“Sure.” she lightly smacked you with the edge of her bat-like wings and stood next to you, eyeing up the amount of stuff you had to bring up. 

“Think we can bring it up in one trip?” she asked, testing the weight of one of your boxes. 

You huffed “Probably.” 

You could bring everything up in one trip, but at the cost of feeling in your forearms. Leto wasn’t faring any better. Having the bright idea to hang bags from her horns, her head was being weighed down to the point where she just asked you for directions. After lugging yourselves up stairs and through long halls you came to your room. Praying that there was someone inside, you kicked your foot against the door. You heard music stop and shuffling until the door was open. Over the boxes in your hands, you could see a hat covered head and the arch of  a brow.  

“Oh wow?” was the first thing your roommate said and you and Leto walked past her. 

All but throwing the items burning your body, you shook out your forearms and turned to face your new roommate. The first thing you noticed about her was how tall she was, almost besting Leto’s 6’1. The next was the maroon beanie carefully wrapped around the top of her head; a gorgon. She stuck her hand out, and you saw her nails were neatly done in a crimson polish. 

“Hello, you must be (Y/N). I’m Marcella Petropolis.” you shook your hand some more willing the heat to leave your fingertips. Taking her hand in a firm grasp, you shook it without any issue. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Marcella.” The taller girl smiled before clapping her hands on her thighs 

“I’m so sorry I can’t stay but I have to go help my brother. Want to meet up at dinner, get to know each other?”  

You smiled back “That sounds great.” She began walking to the door  

“See you soon.” 

“I like her” Leto announced from out in the hall, a mix of her wings and the luggage keeping her there “now please fucking help me.”

You quickly walked over “Sorry”

Moving in didn’t take nearly as long as you expected. After scooting your bed so it was against the wall and pushing your desk so you could look out the window, it was easy work. Leto put your clothes away as you lined up plants and trinkets along the windowsills and nightstand. Even though you weren’t on the top floor, you still had a small balcony overlooking the school, accessible through the window behind your bed. You had sun-catchers dangling in front of the windows for when the clouds decided to leave. A quilt, made by your mother, covered your bed where a few too many pillows had been piled up. In the corner where the bed had originally been, you put your small potion brewery.  In all, it was coming together nicely. 

As the dark sky became darker, and the final thing was put into place, your heart began to grow heavy. Leto would have to leave. Leto hadn’t left you alone since the funeral. 

Turning around, you already found the succubus looking at you. While her eyes were in your direction, she was off somewhere else. 

“What are you thinking about?” you haphazardly put down the vials you were holding and turned to face her.

“Yah Ma.” she answered “and how proud she’d be of ya.” 

You smiled slightly “Thanks Let” 

Leto held out her arms wide, smiling to the point where her fangs showed. You happily accepted the embrace, pulling yourself closer as her wings wrapped around you. 

“What are you going to do when I’m gone?” 

You felt the rumble of a chuckle in her chest “I have some work that’s gonna take me out West. I should be back at home before your break.” You nodded into her “Hey, promise me you’re gonna take care of yaself, okay? It can get all types of wild here and I just…” she cut off, swallowing loudly “I just want ya to have a good time. Ya deserve it.” If possible, you pulled her even closer. 

“I promise, Let. You don’t have to worry though, it's just school.” 

“Ha, nice try” she freed you from her wings and let go, opting to place her hands on your shoulders “I legally have to worry about ya. Remember?” 

You smiled, it didn’t reach your eyes

“Alright, I’m gonna go before ya make me cry.” Leto pushed off your shoulders, a dramatic move for just turning around. “Get good grades, don’t do drugs, use a condom…”

“Hey!” 

She turned around and winked, “Ya can never be too safe.” Her eyes lingered on you for just a second “ I love ya, (Y/N). Don’t forget to call.”

“I won’t, love you too.” 

With that, she was gone. You listened till the sound of her boots on the stone floor dissipated before letting out a breath you didn't know you were holding. 

As you walked down to the first floor many familiar faces passed you. Enid Sinclair; her family has sent you meals and care packages all throughout your mother’s illness. Paul Pasker; his father had been your pharmacist. Yoko Tanaka; she has been your roommate for your first years at Nevermore. Xavier Thorpe; the last time you had seen him was at the funeral a few months back. You knew these people, or, you had. You knew them two years ago before your mom got sick and you had left. Now they were just people whose names you knew. 

Walking into the vast room that was the cafeteria, you searched for a maroon head. You found Marcella sitting in a corner, also scanning the crowds. When she spotted you, she waved you over to the small table. Heels clicking on the stone tiles, you walked over.

[kamari2038]

Now that I've *mostly* cleared my head, A FEW THOUGHTS:

(1) Hank is really frickin’ passionate about the deviant cause. When Connor LETS HIM DIE to try and save the deviants, he’s mildly pissed but they’re still friends. But when my man is just DOING HIS JOB AND TRYING TO SAVE HUMANITY, Hank is not only aggressive, but so hostile that Connor can BEG FOR HIS LIFE, try to reason with him, point out the irony of believing all androids are alive yet still denying Connor’s personhood, but if Connor doesn’t have the heart to murder Hank first, then Hank will DANGLE AND THEN DROP HIM OFF THE EDGE OF A BUILDING EVEN IF HE LITERALLY SAVED HANK’S LIFE MULTIPLE TIMES EARLIER IN THE GAME (which is that much more traumatizing for my head canon of this Connor, which is that it took him an unusually long time to die after falling from the rooftop in hostage)

(2) Hank must fully expect that Connor is secretly a deviant and send him to Jericho with the full expectation that Connor will join the deviants, because otherwise this scene makes no dang sense.

Y’all, I still love Hank, but I am PISSED OFF about this. Just a reminder that he’s still only human and kind of messed up, I guess. Clancy Brown scares the SHIT out of me now. That look of helplessness and betrayal on Connor's face as he's held on by his coat above the ledge will haunt me forever.

[barblaz-arts]

Do Sora and Vega have any particular hobbies or interests or anything? For some reason after reading the first chapter of Walks, Talks and Stalks where Sora was running bear statistics off the top of her head I imagined she might be fond of trivia XD And Vega of course has all sorts of possibilities for what she'd like to do in her downtime! Does she play an instrument or anyrhing like that?

I've agreed with whitebeltwriter that Sora being an aspiring vet is canon so there's that. I also have plans of having Sora be on the tennis team in Jericho, but I'm not sure yet. Just wanted her to be a jock of some kind and tennis seems like a good fit. But once she transfers to Nevermore she's definitely trying fencing.

Vega loves aliens and conspiracy theories about them. As a supernatural creature with great intelligence, the science behind the possibility of aliens fascinate her slightly more than the monsters and magic she's lived with(tho she thinks the other is still very interesting). And the more ridiculous theories about them intrigue her even more in a certain way.

Somebody in a different ask suggested the electric violin when I said Vega is a violin player, and I totally agree.

[66sharkteeth]

Weekly thoughts Ep 173-

Well i said last week that I'd definitely have more thoughts this week, but here I am again, kind of just empty headed as I start this. I was actually pretty excited for this episode, just because it's the first time we see Jericho undeniably as the villain, as well as his scion's first canon lines technically.

But I dunno, feedback lately is kind of killing my enthusiasm. I know the majority of readers are still enjoying the comic, but it's exhausting to see the negative comments increase, ranging from people just being disappointingly moronic about there being LGBT themes in the story, to people telling me the story is going down hill. To which... I'm sorry! But! How?! Like I'm trying to wrap my brain around it. I'm not immune to criticism, there are plenty of points in the story that I agree were not the best writing, but this is not one of them. I've seen comments ranging from "not enough is happening" to "things are only happening for the sake of conflict" and both of those points baffle me. How is everything that's transpired in the past 10 episodes alone nothing? Sorry, do I have to kill off ALL of the cast for it to be "something"? And as for conflict only happening for the sake of conflict???? I literally don't know how to respond to that. Conflict is how a story progresses. Should Rex and Jericho just have...hugged it out?? Should Jericho just have been like "Actually, you know what Claude, I think I do just need therapy. This world domination thing was a bad idea." Should Rex have, back when everyone was betraying him and joined the bad guys, been like "Actually, the systemic treatment of me is fair. I guess I'm just gonna go to jail now instead of going into hiding with these guys. See ya!"

I dunno. I've been SO sad and down the past two weeks, but typing this out I've progressed to angry haha. Mad at homophobes and media illiteracy taking away the pleasure I get from sharing this comic. In a venty way, to be clear. I definitely don't think I'll post this one anywhere else because I can see people saying I don't take criticism or something, but man. No. I can and I have. But the points made this week would make for a flat out bad and BORING story. And I'm so mad people just want my story to be so BORING because they just don't like facing negative emotions in a story. There will be a light at the end of the tunnel of this story eventually, but we're just in the tunnel currently. I'm not gonna hurry up the tour for everyone else just because you're afraid of the dark.

Raugh ok, I guess this wasn't actually much about the actual episode, was it? Ironic that the big villain monologue episode is where I finally kind of lose it and monologue myself. I guess for the sake of actually commenting on the ep...

Yes, I had lots of fun drawing this ep. I've been waiting a long time to have Jericho's scion finally "speak." There's also a lot of cracks showing in Claude that I'm glad people are taking note of. I've said it before, but Claude's development has been some of my favorite to write in the entire story, and we're still in his arc. Excited for things coming up for him.

[romanyeva]

Been seeing a bit about of the MAwS version of Deathstroke on my feed recently with not a little outrage at his twunkiness or not-dilfness or something and that he might be a little bit pathetic.

Well!

Comics Slade Wilson can be VERY MUCH a pathetic wet meow meow of a man. Here he is in the series end of his latest title, Deathstroke vol. 4 # 50 (2016-2020):

This takes place after his showdown with an alternate Slade Wilson from the Dark Multiverse. He's reconciling with his ex-wife - you know, the one who shot his eye out - and cooking Christmas Eve dinner for the family. Of which, William "Billy" Wintergreen is an honorary member. Just look at Slade's little purple house slippers!

More scans from this series end under the cut:

Rose and Joseph, Slade's kids, and Adeline also greet Wintergreen. So domestic! And look at Joey using wifi to speak through his mom's house speakers. Yes, Joseph Wilson aka Jericho - canonically bisexual - is very much alive in DC Rebirth (and his story is wild and dramatic, tragic and uplifting)! [If something awful happened to Jericho after this issue, let me know.]

Then Slade and Billy go down to the basement to have a little chat.

Looking at the basement, Slade is definitely settled in for the long haul. He has his 'man-cave', need I remind you, in the basement. He's definitely playing nice with the ex no matter how many knife fights they get into with each other. And here he explains to Wintergreen, that he was going to play dead because it would be best for everyone - meaning his family. He may be absolutely sure of his deadly abilities, but his personal ones? Not so much. He's a dangerous guy! It's bad for the kids!

But he's still retired, just not in hiding anymore. He's going to be a responsible partner and father, darn it!

Take a long look at his famous Deathstroke sword, placed in retired honor on the wall, because it will be important in a bit.

You heard the man, Billy, Deathstroke is done! And they still have Christmas dinner to take care of!

Aw, look at this picture of domestic bliss. Adeline and Wintergreen are talking shop; Rose and Joey are playing a video game and being very sibling. But, OH NO, look at Slade and his body language. He's sitting pressed against the corner of the sofa, still in his little purple house slippers, just absolutely slumped and not having a good time. SLADE! SLADE WILSON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?!

His family's chatter just becomes noise in the background as he replays - from earlier in the issue - darker Slade's words in his head. And darker Slade said these same words to him TWICE. Telling him that he - our Slade Wilson - ruined all the good things in his life, that he did it to himself.

So he goes to get the turkey out of the oven.

More domestic stuff, aww 🧡 But where's our man Slade? Billy goes to check.

Turkey abandoned. Back door open. And the infamous Deathstroke sword RIPPED OFF THE WALL AND OUT OF RETIREMENT.

And there he is folks, Deathstroke, back in the shadows. Slade Wilson abandoned his family AGAIN! Slade Wilson, you pathetic wet meow meow of a man! You just cannot - absolutely CANNOT - allow yourself to be happy.

I would say that he isn't doomed by the narrative, but that he dooms himself; but if we were talking CLASSIC TRAGEDY, he has this absolutely fatal flaw that dooms him to be alone. And in a metatextual sense, that's also true, because he's become one of DC's banner villains. They will not let him retire, become anything but a morally dark gray character, so they gave him this ironclad flaw:

What can you take from a man who has nothing? Give him something first.

And Slade Wilson would rather have nothing because he's already lost too much.

[jasntodds]

Caving In [10]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 17,220 

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, fluff, canon typical things, canon violence, mentions of blood, mentions of injuries, angst, there’s a mention of dissociation in a nonchalant manner, a mention of drug addiction, reader and jason share 1 braincell while gar gets to have his own, it’s the start of the deathstroke chapters so lol, kidnapping

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: Should I tell you guys who the endgame is? lol Because I do know that and have it all plotted out lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary​ and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

When Dick comes back to the tower, Rose is still with him. The four of you are collectively surprised until you find out it’s because there was a bomb in the jeep that almost killed the two of them. That’s a fair reason to have a second thought about staying at the tower. But, that brings up the perfect opportunity for you, Gar, and Jason to tell Dick about Deathstroke being Rose’s dad. Dick didn’t have a reaction you could read well but asked to see what you all found, completely choosing to ignore how you found out. That’s a discussion for another time.

In the comms lab, all of you gather around the computer where everything about Rose and Deathstroke is still pulled up for Dick to see.

“That’s Rose’s father?” Rachel asks.

“Yep. The one and only Deathstroke.” Jason’s voice has hints of amazement, the smallest of grins pulling at the left corner of his mouth. Of course, Jason would find it fascinating.

“Is that somebody you know?” Rachel asks, turning to look at Dick.

“Kind of, old Titans business.” Dick says, keeping a straight face and you raise your brows. Yeah, old Titans business as in he killed one of them.

“Check it,” Gar brings up another screen. “Former Delta Force Commando part of hive.” Gar says, the last part almost sounding like a question. “Select soldiers who underwent a series of experimental bio-enhancements.” Gar pauses for a second. “Huh, out of the thirty-five trial subjects, the only one to survive was Slade Wilson.” Gar pauses for another second reading the screen. “Interpol says he retired years ago after the death of his son, Jericho. I-I tried having the computer find something--”

“I’ll take it from here.” Dick cuts Gar off, walking over to him and exiting out of the screens with Rose and Slade.

All of the you watch him with suspension but before anyone can question him, the security alarm goes off. Dick pulls up the screen to the front door where three people are standing.

“So, I guess you changed the code.” The woman with dark hair says.

“Finally.” Rachel says, a large smile on display as she sounds relieved.

“Who’s here?” You ask, looking around the room, not able to see onto the smaller monitor in front of Dick.

“You’ll love them.” Rachel beams, walking over to you and grabbing your hand to pull you along. “Donna, Dawn, and Hank.” Rachel starts as the two of you walk down the hallway, the two boys right behind you. “Donna is Wondergirl.” Rachel starts.

“Sorry, what now? Wondergirl like THE Wondergirl?” Your voice raises, excitement flooding your tone.

“Yep! Dawn, the one with white hair, she’s Dove and Hank is Hawk.” Rachel explains.

“The original Titans, okay.” You nod your head and you are so excited.

The original Titans, that’s awesome, actually one of the coolest things that’s ever happened. They’re real superheroes and it’s Wondergirl. One of the coolest heroes ever. And to top it off, that means the tower is gaining two more women in the tower which is always a plus. Rachel and the boys, including Jason, actually seem really excited to see them which is all a good sign to you.

“You guys have no clue how much this place misses you.” Rachel says as she greets Dawn.

Dawn embraces her in a hug. “This place, huh?”

“Mostly just me.” Rachel says.

“And me, too.” Gar says before he gets his own hug from Dawn, you staying back and observing. It is weird that this is like a thing. They’re all…friends.

“Hey, you’re new.” Hank says from the back, looking behind Gar to you.

You nods. “I am.” You step forward awkwardly, Gar gesturing a hand out to introduce you.

“This is Y/n.” Gar beams.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” Dawn’s voice is sweet and soft. “I’m Dawn, he’s Hank, and that’s Donna.” She says as she jerks her head towards Donna who’s just finished giving Rachel a hug.

“You, too. Original Titans.” You say, a gleaming smile coming to your face. You’re nearly bouncing with excitement while trying not to make it seems obvious how cool this is.

“That’s us.” Hank says, a little exasperation in his voice. “Got any…talents we should know about?” Hank asks.

You hold your hands up, as if to be surrendering before your palms start glowing. That catches everyone’s attention. “Acid generation.”

“And combat clairvoyance.” Jason says from his spot near the fireplace. He doesn’t do the whole ‘welcome back’, ‘glad to see you again’ reunions even if he is glad to have them around.

“Well, alright then.” Hank nods, seeming to approve.

“Did Dick find you?” Dawn asks.

“He did.” You keep it short, not wanting to go over the play-by-play yet again.

“He has a thing for strays.” Donna says, giving you a quick smile.

“Noticed.” You laugh softly.

“Where’s Kory?” Rachel asks, looking to Donna.

You look to Gar for clarification. "The cool alien that sounds like a badass?"

"Yeah," Gar chuckles. "That's Kory.

Dick walks up from behind you and Gar, gaining the entire room’s attention. He asks if they were followed but it doesn’t seem like they were. You, Gar, Jason, and Rachel look around, confused by the question but none of you have the nerve to ask.

“Can you guys give us a minute, please?” Dick asks the four of you.

None of you question him and just do as he asks, Jason hanging back a second wanting to be involved but Dick asks him to leave, too. The four of you go off to your rooms to change for training practice. That’s more than likely what Dick wants you to do while he talks to the older Titans anyway. And it’s a pretty easy way to waste time as you wait for further information. So, you all get changed and head to the training room.

You run through a few drills before agreeing to start a sparring session the way Dick wants you to train. Blindfolds and wooden swords, preparing for the day someone tries to take your other senses from you. You have specific instructions to try and ignore the throbbing in the back of your head while you spar because ‘one day it may not be there and you shouldn’t rely on it’. You just roll your eyes whenever Dick says that. It always sounds so dumb even if he might be right. Whatever Jerry did to you, there isn’t any telling if it’s actually permanent. So, you do your best to ignore it.

The four of you get your blindfolds on, taking positions on the mat with your wooden swords and arm pads to protect yourselves. You stretch your shoulders while Gar hunkers towards the floor, Rachel moving her neck side to side and Jason preparing to attack the three of you. It’s never on purpose, but you do tend to gang up on him a little. Jason is just a force when sparring. It’s like the three of you don’t stand a great chance unless you end up working together. It’s never planned but it seems to always play out that way in the end, with you still usually losing.

“Ready?” Jason asks.

“Yep.” You say.

“Ready.” Rachel confirms.

“Let’s go.” Gar says, Gar and Jason the most serious sounding of the four of you.

Gar lunges forward first, his sword almost hitting Jason as Jason swings at Rachel. You swing your sword near Gar, tapping his arm. And the sparring begins. The throbbing in your head is annoying. It’s not painful but annoying. One of the good things about sparring with three people is everyone is fighting for their lives at the same time. You have a harder time figuring out where the throbbing is pointing in a situation like this because ignoring it isn’t exactly that easy.

When you’re just sparring with Jason or Gar, the throbbing is specifically located wherever they are. If they’re behind you, it’s in the very back of your head right at the base. But if they’re to the side, the throbbing switches and leans closer to whatever side they’re on. This is different though because all three of the others are coming from all different directions and it actually forces you to figure out where they are based on movement and the sounds they make, the sounds of their feet, the wooshing of the air. It’s not easy. The throbbing is still distracting.

Jason hits Gar in the back, sending him forward and in a quick motion, he gets you in the stomach, sending you right into Gar as you both fall to the ground. Before even taking a breath, Jason smacks Rachel in the head, sending her to the ground.

“Houston, we have contact!” Jason yells as he rips his blindfold off.

“You okay?” Gar asks as he takes his blindfold off, still on the floor with you.

“Yeah, you?” You ask, taking your own blindfold off only for you to see a cloud of black stringy smoke coming out of Rachel.

The two of you get to your feet, watching with a sense of worry and a touch of horror. You’ve never seen Rachel’s powers before but now you consider yourself lucky for that. You knew it was a little strange and it is dangerous. Rachel doesn't have much control over it and she tried to explain it to you in a little more detail but seeing it is a completely different story. It's a bit terrifying to say the least.

“Are we still sparring?” Jason asks, getting the sense that Rachel is definitely not sparring.

“That doesn’t look good.” You mutter to Gar. 

“Rachel?” Gar asks with caution but not daring to move toward her.

Rachel’s eyes glow red with the gem-like piece in the center of her forward while she gets to her feet and faces Jason. The slime-like sometimes surrounds her before she lunges forward and grabs Jason by the neck, levitating them both far above the ground. Gar and you watch in a sense of horror as the dark material circles Rachel and Jason.

“Rachel.” Jason chokes out.

Rachel looks to the side with the real swords, tilting them towards Jason. Your mouth falls open as you stand in a mix of panic and shock.

“What the fuck do we do? We have to do something!” You panic to Gar.

“I-I don’t know!” He says. “Um…shoot…acid at them, I guess?” The comment is more facetious than literal.

You narrow your eyes at him. “And make her more angry?!”

“Rachel stop!” Gar urges and that seemed to be all it takes.

Rachel’s eyes widen, the red fading immediately as she drops Jason to the floor. He lands hard on his back while Rachel lands easily on her feet. You immediately rushes over to Jason while Gar stands in the corner, almost too afraid to move from his spot. Jason brushes you off as he gets to his feet, storming over to Rachel.

“You stay away from me, you fucking freak.” Jason’s voice is ragged.

Rachel’s eyes are wide with the remark but you can’t exactly blame Jason. Rachel almost killed him. Just last night, the four of you were discussing if Rose should stay or she’d kill you all. But, Rachel, who does live here, actually did almost kill Jason. All you and Gar can do from your spots if give a wince.

“Everything okay?” Dick walks in just in time, seeing the four of you not looking so good.

Everyone looks to Dick but stays silent for a few seconds. Gar doesn’t wanna get Rachel in trouble or piss Jason off further so he stays silent. You’re right along with Gar, not wanting to make either one of them angrier. And you wouldn’t want them to tell Dick if you suddenly lost control.

“No, it’s not.” Jason breaks the silence walking over to Dick. “Look, I don’t like being left out of whatever plans you relics are cooking up out there, alright?” Jason’s voice raises as he points a finger at Dick.

Dick lets out a scoff, a humored grin pulling at his lips. “You didn’t miss anything.” Dick assures him. “Gar,” Dick jerks his head at Gar. “I need ya.”

“Hey, what about me?” Jason asks.

“Keep practicing.” Dick says before walking off, Gar giving the room an apologetic glance before following behind him.

Jason walks back over to Rachel, fire in his steps. “You need to have that shit looked at…by like a fucking priest.” Jason's words are venomous as he storms off.

Rachel stands there for a second before turning to look at you. You’re on your feet again, giving her an apologetic look. Jason might be your friend but he does hit below the belt sometimes. Of course, you get it. Rachel definitely could have killed him and that’s terrifying, you know from first-hand experience but he should know Gar and you would have found a way to step in if she were going to kill him. You would have shot acid at Rachel if you needed to. He was fine and he is fine, seemingly at least. He should cut Rachel some slack.

“You okay?” You ask walking over to Rachel.

“I didn’t mean to.” Rachel says, her voice filled of defeat.

“Yeah, I know.” You nod. “He was kind of mean.” You scrunch your nose. “I’m sorry about him.”

“It's not your fault. He’s just an asshole.” Rachel rolls her eyes.

“He is.” You agree. “He is my friend though so I feel I should apologize on his behalf.” You chuckle softly. “Seriously, are you okay though? I mean…with….whatever that was?”

“Yeah,” Rachel nods softly. “I try to control it but it just happens sometimes.”

“Like the scratches?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you tried meditating?” You question, Rachel furrowing her brows at you. “I mean, in theory, it should work, right? Calm you down, ease your mind of the bullshit. I guess…I don’t know. I didn’t meditate or anything but I dissociated enough that it worked, not that that’s a good example. But, maybe in the same sense that meditation could help you control it. It’s worth a shot, right?” You offer.

Rachel lets out a sigh. “Yeah, maybe.” Rachel nods softly. “Thank you.”

“‘Course.” You give her a soft smile. “I’m gonna go check on the little shit and make sure he’s not doing something fucking stupid.” You roll your eyes. “If you wanna talk more about it though, just lemme know.” You give Rachel a kind smile and Rachel nods.

You go to find Jason who’s made it to his room by the time you get there. He’s blaring his music, door shut. You roll your eyes as you make a fist, slamming it against the door so he can hear it over the music. You’ve come to figure out Jason listens to a lot of death metal a lot louder when he’s upset about something. It’s only a few seconds before Jason swings the door open, nearly pulling it from the hinges.

“What?” He asks, venom in his voice and jaw clenching.

Jason isn’t in the mood for talking about it. It’s a thing that happened and on top of that, Dick wants Gar’s help. Gar is his friend, but Jason has more experience with whatever the Titans are up to. He’s Robin, after all. He’s getting shoved to the side and every bit of it makes him want to scream and fight everyone in sight.

“Move.” You scoff at him, pushing past him and walking into his room. Jason stands there for a second as if to be processing what just happened like Internet Explorer.

“Sure, come in.” Jason huffs, shutting the door.

You pull the needle from the record, looking at him with wide eyes. “Death metal, really?” You cross your arms over your chest. “And this loud?” 

“Maybe you just need better taste in music.” Jason quips, leaning against his door with a sutble grin but his stance is still rigged.

“Because the thespian would know better music.” You tease, gaining a smirk as you watches Jason’s grin fall, steam nearly coming out his ears. “I’m fucking joking, calm down. Fuck.” You groan with wide eyes. “I just came to check on you.”

“I’m fine.” Jason mutters, looking to the floor for just a second.

“Mhm, yeah, being fine is definitely a normal feeling after being lifted ten feet in the air by your neck with several sharp swords pointed at you.” You quip. 

“I’m fine.” Jason grits his teeth.

“Well, in that case, you gotta cut Rachel some fucking slack, man.” You urge him, figuring if he’s not gonna talk about it, you might as well go on about Rachel. “It’s not her fault and I know that you know that.” You let out an exasperated sigh. Gar is normally the mediator between the two of them, on the account that you tend to take Jason's side a lot more than Rachel's. Gar is better at putting aside bias.

“She could have fucking killed me!” Jason pushes himself off of his door.

“I know.” You nod. “Which is fucked up, I’m not saying it’s not. It’s just…” You pause. “It’s different for people like us.”

“You don’t have any problems with it.” Jason huffs and he can’t believe of all people, you’re defending Rachel right now.

You pauses because yes you do but that’s not exactly easy to admit. But, this is Jason. “Okay,” You suck in a breath. “Promise not to tell anyone, especially Gar and Dick?” You ask.

Jason raises a brow at you. “Yeah? Okay.”

“Sometimes, I wake up from a nightmare with my hands glowing. I haven’t…burned or melted anything but they’re glowing and warm so…I don’t have nearly as much control as everyone thinks I do.” You chew on the inside of your cheek, dodging Jason’s eyes.

Jason seems to sit on that for a second. You’ve never almost burned any of them even when you get annoyed or angry. Your hands never even glowed once when you beat up Jerry, not once. Jason fully expected to have to deal with your powers but nothing. You seemed normal in that moment, no powers, no special abilities. He almost finds it hard to believe you can’t control your powers when you’re asleep. But, you also don’t lie to him.

“I also melted a mug my second day here by accident.” You clear your throat.

“How’d the hell you do that?” Jason chuckles this time, finding that more believable than the nightmares.

“I figured out Dick was Robin and Bruce was Batman. Long story short, I’ve got a bit of an issue with the two of them letting Joker fuck around and kill people, my mom included.” You shake your head, seeing Jason doing the math in his head trying to figure out if it was Dick at the time your mom was killed. “It was Dick, it wasn’t you. You took over, if my math is right, somewhere around six months to a year later.”

“Hadn’t thought of it like that.” Jason looks to his shoes before looking back at You. “Bruce not killing the Joker and shit, the consequences.” Jason clarifies.

He’s questioned Bruce’s methods, of course. He also thinks maybe some of those bad guys shouldn’t be allowed to escape Arkham. But, Bruce always said they’re there to protect people, not kill them. Killing the bad guys, makes them just as bad. It’s a line they can’t cross because it’ll be easier to cross the next time. But, at what point is enough enough when it comes to the Joker? How many people could be saved if it were just that one guy? Jason pushes the thought away though.

“Yeah, most don’t.” You clear your throat. “SO, I’m saying you should cool off and be upset about it, obviously, it looked scary from where I was standing, too but maybe don’t be a dick to her about it.”

Jason is stubborn but you bring up good points. Maybe, he could make an attempt to somewhat try and understand Rachel a little bit. Maybe.

“Whatever.” Jason huffs, caving in.

“Mhm, thank you, Jay.” Your voice waves as you walk over to him.

“Yeah.” Jason still looks displeased.

“Or pout about it.” You chuckle, getting a glare from Jason.

“I’m not pouting.” Jason huffs, but there’s a tint of smile coming to his face.

“Mhm.” You hum. “Well, I’m gonna wait for Gar, have fun being angry with your death metal.” You grin at him, see a full smile coming to Jason’s face.

“Yeah.” Jason shrug as you walk past him, leaving him alone.

You go back to your room, keeping the door open as you wait to find out what Dick needed Gar for. It still bugs you a bit that Dick picked Gar to help and not Jason but Jason was definitely not in a talking mood. You didn’t wanna push your luck with him. So, you hang out in your room and just wait with Ginny & Georgia playing on the TV.

As the second episode plays, a knock sounds on your door. You look over the back of the couch to see Gar walking into your room with a sappy smile on his lips. He walks over to the couch and plops down beside you.

“Whatcha watching?” He asks, chipper as usual.

“Ginny & Georgia, it was just added to Netflix.” You gesture towards the TV.

“How is it?” He asks.

“It’s good!” You say with enthusiasm. “I love Joe so much already. I hope he gets to stay happy.” You pout at Gar.

Gar chuckles softly. “Cool if I watch with you, then?” He asks, eyes filled of happiness and hope.

“Yeah! I’m only on episode two so you haven’t missed much. Georgia’s husband died and she doesn’t seem sad about it. They moved from Texas to Wellsbury which is on the east coast. Ginny and Austin are her kids and Ginny hooked up with her neighbor. That’s about it.” You laugh softly.

“Oh, well, okay then.” Gar nods along. “Is it….a comedy?”

“Eh,” You shrug a shoulder. “It’s more of drama. Like it has some comedy but it’s more dramatic.” You explain. “I think Georgia killed her husband so like there’s that.”

Gar’s eyes widen. “Definitely a drama.” He laughs.

“Oh, yeah.” You laugh in agreement.

The two of you focus your attention on the TV and you move closer to Gar, resting your legs over his lap. It makes Gar chuckle but he just goes with it, putting his hands on your shins and you watch together, making easy conversation about what’s going on in the show. This is a comfortable thing you’ve gotten into the habit of doing.

Gar will be playing video games so you sit next to him, usually always touching him in some way or Gar will come into your room where you’re watching TV and he’ll just plop down to watch whatever has your interest. You always moves to sit with your legs over him. And the two of you always make conversation about what’s going on and you get really dramatic and excited when you talk about your shows, it’s how Gar thinks he sounds but you’re not annoying. Sometimes, he thinks he just gets annoying about it but hearing you ramble about why you love a character or hate another, he could listen to that all day even if he has no idea what you’re talking about. It’s so comfortable for him.

After a few more episodes, you both realize no one has bothered you in a few hours. Neither of you even have a text from Dick about training. The older Titans must be keeping him occupied which is definitely nice. Training isn’t actually all that bad and it gives you all something to do. But, Dick doesn’t really give you a day to break. None of you have anything else to do, so Dick just makes sure you’re training all the time in one way or another. The four of you get it, you have to prepare for the big bads, but having a day off here and there would also be nice. And right now, it looks like you’re actually getting the night off and you’re enjoying it.

“Hey, want some popcorn?” You ask, peeling your eyes away from the TV to look at Gar.

“Yes, please.” Gar beams. “Want me to get it?”

“Nah,” You shake your head, sliding your legs off of Gar. “I got it.” You give him a smile. “Just pause it and make sure it doesn’t shut off.”

“Got it.” Gar gives you a nod, grabbing the remote from the coffee table in front of him.

You rush off to the kitchen where you find Rachel making herself a glass of sweet tea. You move around her, grabbing a bag of popcorn and popping it in the microwave before you grab a large bowl to pour it into. You sit on the counter, opposite Rachel, as you wait for the popcorn to start. Just as you get situated and Rachel finishes making her tea, Rose walks in. Instead of gauze, Rose is daunting an eyepatch over the eye that’s now missing.

“Don’t think we got introduced,” Rachel starts. “I’m Rachel.”

“Y/n.” You chime in, with a half-wave from your spot.

“I’m Rose.” Rose says.

“Pretty name.” Rachel says.

“Yeah, maybe too pretty now.” Rose says. “Patch has a nice ring to it.” Rose finishes as you let out a huff.

“I still think you’re really pretty.” You let out a scoff, giving Rose a smile. Rose’s brows furrow at you and Rachel rolls her eyes.

“You hang out with Jason too much.” Rachel states, getting a confused and offended look from you just as your popcorn starts to pop.

“I don’t get this.” Rose starts, ignoring the both of yours and Rachel’s comments to each other while she takes a seat in one of the chairs. “The whole living situation, this some kind of euro hostel or something?” Rose quips making you chortle.

Rachel lets out a huff. “No, we’re just friends.”

“Dick’s got a thing for plucking strays off the streets.” You add in.

"I'm not a stray." Rose defends, but her voice isn't stern or annoyed.

“We saw what happened.” Rachel looks between you and Rose.

“Saw what?” Rose inquires.

“Dick has access to the city’s surveillance cameras.” Rachel explains.

“We saw everything. You fighting and escaping, the whole thing.” You finish.

“Guy with the sword?” Rachel asks.

“My dad.” Rose gains a sarcastic grin.

You give her a yikes expression before hopping off the counter and going to the microwave as the popcorn starts to slow down its popping. Somehow, all of you have fucked up home lives. Seriously, is that a requirement to even be here?

“I’m sorry.” Rachel says.

“Dads suck.” You declare, opening the microwave.

“No dad of the year mug for him.” Rose quips before looking to Rachel. “That thing in your forehead, bold choice.” Rose nods her head.

You pour your popcorn into a bowl as you listen to Rachel, you actually don’t know the story behind it. You never asked.

“Not my choice.” Rachel shakes her head. “My dad put it there for me.”

“He did?” Your voice is filled of surprise and confusion.

“Yep.” Rachel holds out the word a little.

Now, that’s also weird. You figured it has to do with her powers since it lit up when she levitated her and Jason earlier. You have so many questions about it but Rachel’s singular word about it is probably a good indicator that she doesn’t like to talk about it. You can’t blame her there.

“Where’s he?” Rose asks.

“I got rid of him.” Rachel declares.

“Got rid of as in…? Killed him?” Rose asks.

“Yeah, kind of.” Rachel tries to brush it off as she scoffs.

“What about you?” Rose looks to you who’s standing on the other side of Rachel.

“Drug addict who bailed before I was born, foster dad almost beat me to death though.” You state, an almost sarcastic tone coats your words. “Ligature scars from the ordeal.” You lift your arms just slightly so your sleeves fall down enough to show the scars.

“Shit.” Rose states.

“Clearly, the tower is filled with people who had outstanding father figures.” You quips, getting a slight nudge from Rachel.

“Is that what you wanted to do to your father? Kill him?” Rachel asks.

“I did.” Rose nods. “But, uh, I thought everything would be different if he just went away.”

“Doesn’t always work.” Rachel takes a drink from her tea. “Right, Y/n?”

“I know you want me to agree with you but…” You pause. “I gotta say, I’m pretty content with my actual dad fucking off somewhere and me beating the shit out of Jerry now that it’s happened.”

Was that night a mess? Yes. But, talking with Jason about it has made you feel a lot better about it. He's told you countless times he deserved it and because of that, you did save that kid. You got your revenge and now he can't do that to anyone ever again. It didn't help that night, and maybe the act of beating him up didn't help, but preventing him from hurting anyone else did.

“Seriously?” Rachel voice is disapproving. 

You shrug. “I’m not gonna lie.” You laugh softly.

“Guess we’re all members of the bad dads club.” Rose gives the two of you a genuine smile.

“Platinum members.” Rachel scoffs.

“With a discount in endless trauma.” You quip.

“Benefits kind of suck.” Rose states.

“Members are pretty cool.” Rachel smiles softly, Rose matching the smile.

“What do you guys do all day anyway?” Rose questions.

“Train.” Rachel’s voice is flat.

“Listen to everyone complain about training.” You let out a muttered scoff.

“As if you’re not enjoying the night off with Gar.” Rachel quips.

“I am having a lovely time.” You grin. “Which is why, I’m going back to my room where he’s waiting.”

“Don’t do anything stupid.” Rachel mocks.

“We are friends, Rachel.” You defend.

“Okay, Y/n.”

You roll your eyes. “Okay, Rachel.” You mock her before walking off back to your room where Gar is still sitting in the same position.

You think about the conversation you had with Rachel about the boys. There was so much you couldn’t tell Rachel about Jason. Jason would kill you and Rachel would definitely tease him about it, even if it just slipped. You don’t want that to happen. It’s your thing and you kind of like that no one knows about it. You can’t really explain it, but it’s just nice not having everyone know about it.

With Gar, everything is out in the open which is also fine because that’s just Gar. He doesn’t hide things from people, he wears his emotions on his sleeve. It’s something you actually admire about him and it’s one of the things you like about him. But, in a way, there’s this pressure you don’t like. Rachel knew you liked him and she thinks Gar likes you, too. Part of it is on you, sleeping in his room, making him pancakes. But, you just wish you were normal because then it would be this normal gossip thing where no one knows for sure. In the tower, surrounded by people all the time though, everything is so fucking transparent. The tower might as well be wrapped in cellophane. So, you take a seat next to Gar and don’t say anything about how you feel because you like him but you like Jason, too.

“Talked with Rose.” You start, resting your legs over Gar’s as you get comfortable, holding the bowl of popcorn on your lap but close enough so Gar can have some.

“Yeah? What’s she like?” Gar asks, his left hand resting on your shins as his right plucks a piece of popcorn from the bowl.

“Daddy issues like the rest of us.” You chortle, tossing a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

"We knew that, though." Gar chuckles with you, finding you amusing.

"Yeah," You shrug. "I don't know, didn't talk long but she seems cool. Rachel is still in the kitchen with her."

"Think she'll stay?" Gar raises a brow and it worked out with you staying. He's worried about her being Deathstroke's daughter, which might put all of you at risk. But, if she's really in danger. Gar hopes she'll stay. It's safe here.

You scrunch your face with uncertainty. "Ehh," You shrug. "She doesn't seem too pleased with the place. So, I dunno. I hope she does. It helped me." You give Gar a sweet smile.

"Yeah, I think it'd be nice. We'll have to keep Jason off of her though." Gar chuckles.

You brush the comment off. Maybe Jason will be into her and it'll make everything easier. Choosing between the boys sounds like an impossible decision.

"Yeah, right?" You nod your head, agreeing with him but keep it short. You look to the TV and change conversation. "Do teenagers actually get together and do that?" The teenagers in the show are in a basement, a few of them playing instruments while the others are smoking on a couch.

"That's where you're questioning the realism of the show?" Gar chortles next you, grabbing a few pieces of popcorn.

"I mean! Hey, women have poisoned their husbands! They're even called Black Widows! But, teenagers all getting together to drink and smoke in a basement? Like regularly? Do they do that?"

Gar shrugs, finding your thought process a bit comical. "I wouldn't know."

"Right." You nod and laugh. "Forgot, none of us had much of a normal teenager experience."

Gar shakes his head. "Fine with me, seems..."

"Not as fun as they make it seem in the show?” You laugh softly.

“Yeah, exactly.” Gar nods quickly. “I don’t think it’d always be so cool, calm, and collected.”

There's a knock on your door, interrupting your conversation. The two of you turn around to see Dick, standing halfway in your room and half in the hallway.

"Gar, need ya again." Dick jerks his head towards the hallway and your brows furrow. What the hell is that about? Gar gives you an apologetic look as you move your legs off of him.

You spin around, resting your forearms on the back of the couch. "Whatcha doing?" You ask Dick as Gar gets up from his comfortable place.

"Locating Dr. Light." Dick answers simply.

You hum. "Can I come?"

It's Dick's turn to narrow his eyes. "No, I just need Gar for now." 

You groan. "Come on, Rachel is hanging out with Rose and Jason is in a pissy mood."

After the whole Jerry situation, Dick has been keeping a closer eye on you. He wants to trust you won't go rogue again but there is a part of him that worries about it. Dick went back and watched the security footage of everything, listened to the conversation. Jason did not try to stop you but it didn't seem as if you would have listened anyway. He doesn't need someone going rogue. But, if you’re with Gar, at least if you find Dr. Light, Dick can trust Gar to come and get him instead of you both trying to play the heroes.

"Okay, fine. Come on." Dick jerks his head and you beam, happy to be included.

You turn the TV off, practically leaping over the back of the couch and meeting the boys at the door. Gar's eyes widen and beam at the sight of your dramatics. Dick shakes his head but chuckles softly as the three of you head to the comms lab.

Gar slides into the chair and pulls up a map while Dick stands behind him and you stand off to the side, watching everything Gar is doing. You can only assume that with his time at Doom Manor, he had a lot of time to mess around with tech stuff. Maybe that's why Dick is asking for his help for this stuff instead of anyone else. Gar already has some background with computers and tech and he's a new Titan. Maybe it's a preparation thing. But, you’re also just happy to be included.

"Dr. Light will need to refuel if he's planning another attack." Dick starts. "He'll need a large electric power cell and a light source where he can absorb the energy."

Gar leans his elbows on the table in front of him, keeping his eyes on the screen. "So, monitor the power grids and keep an eye out for any unusual disturbances."

"We find where he's pulling the power from, we find him." Dick finishes before patting Gar on the back and heading for the hallway.

"Okay, got it." Gar's eyes scan over the computer screen.

"Oh, hey," Dick says, turning around before entering the hallway. "Everything okay with Rachel?" Dick looks between Gar and you. "She looked a little strange in training."

"She's fine." You answer quickly with the shrug of your shoulders.

Gar nods his head in agreement. "Yeah," He swivels in his chair to face Dick. "That was just...her..." Gar glances to you as if looking for help as he tries to think of something.

Neither of you are going to tell Dick Rachel almost killed Jason and then Jason called her a freak, then said she should be checked by a priest. Dick doesn't need to know everything that happens. You all can handle it.

"Training face." Gar gives Dick an awkward smile, spinning the chair slightly.

"Traning face?" Dick looks to Gar and then to you, completely not believing that at all.

"Yeah, she gets really focused and gets this look." You brush it off.

"Yeah, exactly." Gar agrees with you, the both of tyou lying through your teeth. You’re a bit better at it. "She just wants to be ready in case any of the old Titans wanna spar," Gar's eyes shift side to side for a second. "After, they settle in." He flashes the awkward smile again and you’re so sure Dick is going to call you out.

Note to self: Do not ask Gar to help you rob a bank.

"They're not gonna settle in." Dick states, this time his voice serious and stern. Your curiosity is piqued. Dick doesn't seem happy about them showing up which you find to be weird. Aren't they supposed to be friends? Is this because Deathstroke killed one of them? If it is, you can't say you blame Dick. It was probably really hard. "Hank and Dawn, Donna, they're not staying."

"I thought you guys were friends?" You ask.

"We are." Dick answers shortly. "But they aren't Titans anymore."

Gar's face twists in confusion. Everything was fine the last time they were all together, well, besides the whole Trigon thing. But, everyone got along afterward. "Did something happen between you guys?"

Dick's eyes go distant for a second before he drops it completely. "Keep looking." Dick states before walking off, down the hallway.

You look to Gar as he swivels to face you. "That was fucking weird." You say, shaking your head with wide eyes.

"Right?" Gar says dramatically. "What do you think that was about?"

"Uh...." You pause, shrugging your shoulders. "I mean, could be the death of that Titan, maybe it's like....a thing with them all being here?" You raise the question. "Everyone was there with Trigon, right?"

Gar nods before he turns back to the computer to get to work. "Yeah, I mean, besides....ya know." Gar jerks his head to the left with the quick raise of his brows as he starts searching the power grids. "But, I mean, after everything seemed fine. Dick was...actually in a good mood, actually."

You watch Gar carefully, taking mental notes of everything he's doing. "Maybe it's something with the tower then, everyone being here. I have no idea." You chuckle softly. "Bird boys make no fucking sense."

"Honestly," Gar shakes his head. "What do you think is up with that, anyway?" Gar glances to you.

You shrug. "Well, first full day here, I asked Dick about Bruce and he said that Bruce did the best he could which I always assume means that person sucks at parenting, without intending to." You chuckle softly. "So, could be Bruce."

"I think you just have a vendetta against him." Gar says honestly, giving you a slight wince.

You let out a sigh. "Yeah, a little bit." You move closer to Gar. "Can I sit?"

Gar's eyes widen as he freezes and you gain a smirk. A giggle escapes your lips and it's the cutest noise Gar has ever heard. He scoots back a bit and lets you sit on his lap, you mostly sitting on his right leg so Gar can see and maneuver around the keyboard easily.

"What do you think is up with bird boys?" You ask as Gar goes back to the power grids.

Gar shrugs. "I don't think they know how to handle their problems." Gar deadpans.

You let out a laugh. "Yeah, that's fair." You keep your head straight, watching the large screen. "How do you know how to do all this?" You decide to drop the conversation.

"Had a lot of free time at Caulder House." Gar states. "There wasn't much to do besides this and video games."

"Ah," You nod your head. "It's pretty cool, especially with how quickly tech changes and this is like...a Batcomputer." Your smile widens. Sure, you’ve got an issue with Batman but Wayne tech is cool nonetheless. Your problem is with his moral code about killing, not with much else. You don't even know the guy.

"Yeah, it's clearly coming in handy." Gar laughs softly.

Gar and you fall into a comfortable conversation as Gar explains what he's doing and how he knows what to look for. You follow everything he says, making sure you’re keeping up. The thing with Gar is that he's really good at explaining things without making your feel dumb. Sometimes, people have this habit of sounding condescending when they're explaining something they're good at even if they don't mean to. But, Gar explains it casually but in terms you understand since you don't know much about this tech. In fact, the way Gar explains everything, it makes you feel useful which is a really nice thing to feel right about now.

Over the next hour, you and Gar sit and look for signs of Dr. Light. You like seeing Gar here, doing this. It's clearly his environment, something he's good at and enjoys. He's also helping the older Titans by doing this and you can tell by how focused he is that it's something that also means a lot to him. He gets to be helpful with the thing he's good at.

The two of you share stolen glances here and there. There's something so warm and comfortable about it. While you’re more of a hands-on person, this is nice. You aren't really helping, rather than just keeping Gar company and learning from him. But, it's comfortable and if you’ve learned anything, it's that you should cherish the comfort while you have it.

Gar is so kind and soft and safe that feeling comfortable seems like it could be possible, every single day. He's energic and enthusiastic. You swear there's not a pessimistic bone in his body. And he has this smile that just put the sun to shame. You swear if he just gave you that open-mouthed toothy smile, you’d never get lost in the dark again. And sometimes he trips over his words if you get a little flirty and it make you so happy because he never knows what to do. It makes him that much cuter and softer. He is what you always imagined happiness would look like. If happiness were a person, it would be Garfield Logan. You wonder if you could ever offer him that same comfort and happiness. You wonder if you'd ever live up to that or if you'd just burn it all to the ground.

Gar finds something on the computer and goes to grab Dick. The two of them discuss, figuring the bundle of pings is actually Dr. Light. And then the power goes out as if to be on cue. You follow Gar and Dick out of the comms lab and into the living room. As you all reach the floor-to-ceiling windows, you see a stadium in the distance that's emitting light, indicating that's where Dr. Light is. You get the feeling that's probably not a good sign for whatever is to come next and by the look on Dick's face, he's got the same feeling.

Dick goes off to grab the rest of the Titans to hunt down Dr. Light while Gar figures the rest of you might as well hang out in the living room and watch something on someone's phone. You have gone almost entirely quiet since the power went out. He hasn't said anything, but he's kind of assumed you aren't a big fan of the dark. You usually have the TV on or the blinds pulled when you’re asleep so the room isn't so dark. Gar thinks maybe if he can get everyone in an open area, you'll feel a little better about it. So, you make your way to Jason's room first.

Gar’s assumption would be right. The dark wasn’t this big deal or anything before, but now it’s as if things are lurking in the shadows. You just feel so uneasy not being able to see in the dark. The great thing about the tower, usually, is there are always lights on. The hallway is always lit by small wall lamps so it’s never too dark. The rooms all have large windows that go from one wall to the other and the city does a good job of illuminating every room. But, the entire city is in a blackout and it’s almost completely dark in the tower. You hate it and with Gar’s offer to gather everyone up, you’re thankful you don’t need to explain it. He’s figured it out.

"What's up?" Jason asks as the two of you and Gar enter his room.

"The power's out." You quip, trying to not show you’re uneasy about the entire tower being dark.

"No shit." Jason shakes his head, his phone in his hand to use as a flashlight.

"I figured we'd all hang out together, just until it comes back on." Gar offers, his own phone’s light shining on the ground.

"All?" Jason questions, his brow quirked as he glances to you. Jason knows all does not mean all of the older Titans and he does not want to be around Rachel right about now.

"Well..." Gar pauses. "You, us, Rachel."

Jason lets out a groan before it turns into a dry laugh. "You think I wanna be around her right now?"

"She's sorry." Your voice is filled with frustration. "It was an accident."

"What about the other Titans?" Jason jerks his head up with the question.

"They're probably going to find Dr. Light. I found something on the computer." Gar brushes it off and Jason's eyes widen. You let out a sigh knowing Gar should not have said that.

"What? Why didn't you say so?" There's excitement in his voice as he runs over to his bed, getting on his hands and knees.

You eye Gar, as if telling him he should not have told Jason. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm going with 'em!" Jason says, pulling out the case that contains his suit.

Gar gets the look now. "Right..." Gar nods his head slowly. "I'm sure Dick will come get you if he needs you, man."

"Seriously?" Jason puts the case on his bed before turning to face you and Gar. "I gotta show him I'm ready for anything. I'm tired of sitting around." Jason reaches over his head, yanking his hoodie off, you getting the nonexistent hint to turn around.

"He knows what you're made of, Jason." Gar lets out a sigh as Jason changes into his suit.

"Obviously, not." Jason argues. "He didn't come to get me, did he?" Jason gets a little snippy and all Gar can do is sigh.

Jason finishes changing into his suit, making his way to you and Gar. You turn around, feeling him close to you. Jason's head is held high and there's a brightness in his eyes. His entire demeanor changes when he puts on the suit. He's, somehow, even more endearing when he's like this. Filled of so much joy and excitement and determination. You know Dick won't let him go with and it's gonna sting him a lot more than he'll ever admit.

"Well, be careful then, Batboy." You state, knowing there is no stopping Jason.

Jason eyes you up and down, not even realizing he's doing it. A smirk pulls at his lips and he almost has a quip, almost but Gar is standing there, a little too close to you. So, he bites it down like a shard of glass. "Always am." He nods at you before quickly exiting his room, the cape flowing behind him.

"He's a dork." You look to Gar, a smile pull at your lips.

"It's the cape, right?" Gar laughs.

You nod quickly. "Yeah, yeah, something about the cape on him. It's like it swallows him." You laugh again. "It is bulletproof and fireproof though."

"At least there's that." Gar chuckles. "Let's find Rach." He jerks his head towards Jason's door and the two of you head out.

The two of you head down the hall where you run into Rachel. She had been on her way to look for the two of you. The tower is on backup generators now but the power in the tower is limited. This surprises all of you. You all thought, surely, Bruce would have a better generator for the tower. But, none of you say anything about it and decide to head to the living room and find something to do while you wait for the power to come back on and for the other Titans to get back. When you reach the living space, Jason is standing there alone in the Robin suit, the rest of the Titans in the elevator.

Jason's jaw clenches as he sees the three of you standing there looking at him. Rachel isn't surprised and she's actually pleased with Jason being left behind. Rachel doesn't think Jason is ready to help the rest of the Titans, and it's not fair to let him go but not the rest of you. Gar and you, on the other hand, you feel bad for him. He just wants to help and he's your friend. You also know that Jason will probably be pissed about this for the next week and you'll be the ones who have to hear about it. Dick should just let him help, they have the same experience.

Jason pushes past the three of you, not saying a word.

"He's such a try-hard." Rachel mutters as the three of you walk over to the couches.

You furrow your brows as you and Gar sit side-by-side, his arm going behind you as if to be an instinct. "I mean...he is Robin, though?"

"Yeah, but why does he think he should be able to help when none of us are?" Rachel argues.

"He has experience?" Gar questions, his expression matching the confused and defensive one you have.

"Not you, too!" Rachel groans out in frustration. She doesn't get why you and Gar almost always side with Jason.

"What?" Gar asks, unamused over this conversation.

"You guys defending him."

"Well, because we get it." Gar's eyes widen slightly, a hint of annoyance in his voice. The petty arguing and hatred between Rachel and Jason actually drives him insane. Sure, Jason deserves it sometimes but he's not even around right now. Why does it matter?

"Yeah, I mean, it's like important to him." You state, your eyes still slightly narrowed. When you told Rachel to talk to Jason about this, you did in fact mean it. You, too, aren't a fan of the petty arguments either between the two of them or about each other.

"It's important to everyone." Rachel urges. "Why does he think it's the most important thing to him?"

You and Gar stare at each other, as if to be silently communicating 'what the fuck'. Rachel is clearly still upset by Jason's words from the morning. Of course, neither of you blame her but you are Jason’s friend. You both defend Rachel when Jason gets all pissy with her and you both defend Jason. But, this is just annoying. The Titans have gone off to find Dr. Light, you're trapped in the tower without any power. Who even cares?

"You're not friends with him so you don't get it." You brush her off. "And not to sound a bit bitchy, but it's not our job to explain it to you." You shrug and pull your phone from your pocket. "I'm gonna turn my show on, you're welcome to watch with us." You pull up Netflix on your phone before handing it to Gar as he puts in the password.

You rest the phone on the ottoman, using one of the random books from the table to stabilize your phone. Rachel huffs a bit but moves closer to you so she can watch the show. She decides to drop it and maybe she is being a bit unreasonable. She doesn't understand Jason and she probably never will. But, she also hasn't taken your advice about talking to him yet. So, Rachel bites back the other comments she has about Jason and listens to you and Gar explain what she's missed so far.

Only a few more minutes go by when Jason and Rose come into view, the two of them heading for the opposite hallway. You’re the first to notice, followed by Gar. Rachel is too busy watching the show to even care.

"What's going on?" Gar asks, cautiously seeing the two of them walking side-by-side.

Jason looks like he's doing a bit better. "Going to train, nothing else to do anyway."

"You training, too?" You quirk a brow at Rose.

Rose tilts her head just slightly to the side. "Nah," She shakes her head. "I'm gonna kick his ass." 

"Fuck off." Jason huffs, but a smile is on his lips.

"Please, do. Someone's gotta kick him around now and again." You grin at Jason.

His eyes narrow at you. "Yeah, cause you never will."

"One day, Jay. One day." You wiggle your brows at him before looking back at your phone, trying to ignore the weird warmth in your stomach. That is not jealousy.

"When hell freezes over." Jason scoffs but you keep your eyes on the screen and there's a disappointment that bites Jason's bone. His smile falls and he thought you'd have some come back about beating his ass even when hell freezes over or something dumb. But, you say nothing and he's disappointed in that. "Whatever," He scoffs, jerking his head towards the hall. "Let's go." Jason and Rose leave the three of you to yourselves.

You think Gar doesn't notice the short banter that wasn't really banter. You think he doesn't notice the way your eyes narrowed and the way the grin turned stale. You think he doesn't notice how you are with Jason and it hurts Gar. He likes you but he thinks maybe you’re more into Jason than you'll ever be into him. Sure, you’re choosing to hang out with him more but you and Jason still do your flirty thing. It doesn't really make any sense to him if he's being honest.

After two hours, the power finally comes back on. Every light in the tower turns back on and the lights of the city start to shine through the floor-to-ceiling windows once again. The three of you breathe a sigh of relief, hoping that means the other Titans took down Dr. Light with success. You all move the show to the TV and wait on the edge of your seats for the other Titans to come back. Jason and Rose join the three of you just a few minutes later as if to also be waiting for the other Titans. Jason steals the remote and switches to the news.

"Well, you could have asked first, but sure." You quip but Jason brushes you off as he stands off to the side of Gar, arms crossed.

The news plays over footage of the Titans fighting Dr. Light and failing. Dick chooses to save a busload of people instead of stopping Dr. Light. Dr. Light takes off and he's completely out of sight. The news reports that he's nowhere to be seen but everyone on the bus is safe.

"And that's why they should have fucking let me go!" Jason complains, flinging one of his arms out.

All of you chooses not to argue or humor Jason. The rest of the Titans are probably going to be upset when they get back and Jason will have some sort of comment about it. It's not worth it for any of you to argue or agree with him. You'll leave that to Dick and the other Titans.

As soon as the rest of the Titans get back, you, Gar, Rachel, and Jason keep your places in the living area beside Rose who doesn't want any part of it, apparently. You all wait until Dawn and Hank head off toward the bedrooms, leaving just Dick in the living area. Jason takes the lead and gets up first, the rest of you following him

"Where's Dr. Light?" Jason taunts Dick as he walks closer to him.

"Jason." Rachel warns.

"A little stealth job on a guy who shoots what? Headlamps? I mean half the city's on fire and still no sign of Dr. Light." Jason is now about a foot away from Dick, Gar, you, and Rachel standing two feet behind Jason not liking where this is going.

"Not the time, Jason." Dick warns him.

Jason rushes Dick quickly, almost chest-to-chest with him. "Look, I don't take orders from you anymore, man. I do what I want when I want." Jason states, eying Dick with anger. You roll your eyes behind him and Gar sucks in a breath, knowing this is not going to end well.

Dick gets this smile that is almost his way of telling Jason how fucking stupid that is. He goes to walk past Jason but Jason puts his hand on his chest, stopping Dick in his tracks. Dick looks almost appalled. You thought Dick wasn't as great at hiding his emotions when you first got here but the more you watch him, the more you realize he's actually very good at it. He just has resting bitch face. But, it's obvious by the way his brows went up and his eyes widened just a little that he was shocked and appalled that Jason stopped him.

"Get out of my way." Dick's voice is stern and unwavering.

"I think you got it all wrong," Jason shakes his head at Dick, a little close to him for everyone's comfort. Jason hits Dick's chest again with an open palm. "You're in my way." The three of you behind Jason can feel this going south very quickly but none of you want to insert yourselves in it. You’re a bit interested to see where this will go and how Dick plans to de-escalate the situation. "Maybe you need a retirement package."

You and Gar glance between each other before turning back to Jason. You want to help break this up but how? This is not your battle and if you take Dick's side, you'll be hearing from Jason about it. So, you both stand back as Jason turns to look at you for just a second. He's got this determined look in his eye that makes you quirk a brow. He makes a fist and all three of you shake your heads slightly.

"Don't." Dick grits his teeth, his nose scrunching up. Yeah, tonight is not the night to pick a fight with Dick.

Jason tries to charge Dick but Dick is faster and takes an open palm to back of his head, pushing him to the ground. You let out a sigh, hanging your head and holding the bridge of your nose. Gar has resorted to looking down and running a hand through his hair, a look of exasperation across his face. Rachel leans forward, simply surprised.

Dick even looks a bit surprised. "Shit." Dick says softly as he reaches a hand towards Jason. "Here." His voice is flat.

Jason slaps Dick's hand away before getting up from the floor. Jason's heaving a few breaths as if the anger is consuming him from the pit of his lungs. He stands toe-to-toe with Dick but doesn't say anything. He pushes past him and heads off down the hallway. Dick looks at the three of you who all look like you're torn between second-hand embarrassment and yikes.

"What was that?" Dick asks, his eyes directly at you.

"Got me." You shrug. If Dick really can't figure out what Jason is upset about, he's actively choosing to be obvious or something because Dick isn't stupid.

Dick shakes his head and decides he'll deal with it later. "Gar, come on, need you again." Dick starts walking past all of you.

"I'll come to your room later." Gar gives you an apologetic look.

"I'm gonna check on Jason anyway." You roll your eyes and everyone goes their separate ways, leaving Rachel in the living room.

You head to Jason's room where his music is yet again blaring. You bang on the door and he doesn't answer at first. You suck in a breath and decide you’re just going to keep banging on the door until he answers it. It's a solid minute of knocking before the door swings open, Jason's cheeks red and his eyes wide, filled of rage.

"What the fuck?!"

"Move." You move past him and Jason wants to know why you do this? And why does he let you? You spin around. "What the fuck to you? What the fuck was that with Dick, dude?"

"Oh, this is about Dick, huh?" Jason yells, his face scrunching with anger as he shuts the door.

"You were going to fight him." You say through gritted teeth. "Why?"

"He thinks he fucking knows everything!" Jason swings his arm out. "But he got fucking beat by Dr. Light, a fucking dude whose power is a streetlamp." Jason scoffs, the very thought of this guy comical to him.

"Okay." You lower your voice. "So, why not let him wallow in his own mistakes then? Why do you gotta rub it in?"

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're taking his side?!" Jason’s voice goes up an octave.

"NO!" You yell at him. "I'll always take y0our side! Just..." You pause, letting yourself take a breath. "Just, fucking talk to me, Jay." You cave, chewing the inside of your cheek. He's never gone after Dick before. It's like all of them said, Jason gets mad and rants and raves, trains a bit, and that's it. He doesn't go after people, but tonight he did. You’re worried about him.

Jason shakes his head, looking to the ground and you have this way of calming him down. You’re just as hot-headed as he is but when he's screaming, you can just stay calm. It might take a minute, but you calming down and asking him such a simple question, gets him to cool off. It’s the way you call him Jay and it’s like it flips the switch. You call him that nickname, you’re the only one, and he knows he can talk.

"I just wanna fucking help." Jason scoffs, leaning against his door. "I feel fucking useless here and he won't let me fucking help. If I could show him what I can do..."

"Maybe he'll let you actually help." You finish for him.

"Yeah, Robin is like," Jason lets out a scoff. "It's the one thing I've been fucking good at. It feels like it's being taken away from me and there's nothing I can fucking do about it." There's a break in his voice and you feel for him.

It's the first time he's admitted any of that. The thing about Robin is Jason has always been a hothead. He's always liked attention. The world has been unfair to him his entire life. But, he puts on that suit and the hot-headedness actually comes in handy sometimes, dealing with these big bads like the Riddler and the Joker. The attention is on him because he's a hero with Batman. And he gets to level the playing field in the world that's treated him so poorly. He's so good at it, too and he knows it. But, it's all being ripped away from him. Sure, it’s his own doing but, maybe if Bruce or Dick offered him an ear every now and again, they would get why Jason does things like joyrides in the Batmobile and riding a motorcycle in the manor.

"Yeah, I get that." You nod and move to stand next to him, leaning against his door with him. "But, uh, for what's it worth, I would care to argue you're also a good friend. You're good at that."

Jason lets out a laugh. "Yeah, that's real fucking inspiring."

You shrug, laughing with him. "It's better than nothing, right? No, but you're a good reader and you are funny. You are a good Robin. You’re a better Robin than Dick was." You eye him, the laugh falling. "And I'm not just filling your ego." You give him a smirk.

"Aw, can't fill it even a little, babe?" Jason's brows knit together and he's got this half-cocked grin that makes your stomach twist. 

The nickname makes your knees weak. "Absolutely not, shithead."

Jason lets out another laugh. "Thank you."

"Yeah, no problem. You know I'm always gonna be here for ya." You give him a wink. "I don't think Dick's worth it anyway." You let out a sigh.

"Back to having an issue with him?" Jason nods with understanding. He's in a constant state of flip-flopping on having an issue with him.

"Nah, I just mean I don't think he's worth it. If you're gonna fight a Titan, at least make it worth it, ya know? Like, it's Dick. He's whatever and it's like tragic in a pathetic kind of way to watch two Robins fight each other. I mean how fucking cliche. Fight Hank or some shit." You scoff. "Or prove yourself in a different way, one that doesn't involve tagging along where they shove you into a corner anyway."

"I'd obliterate Hank." Jason chortles, his head is high and his chest puffed out with confidence.

"See, exactly!" You cheer.

Jason pauses for a second and maybe you have a point. Maybe he could find a way to show Dick in a different way. He doesn't need to rely on Dick to invite him out onto the field. He could just do it himself.

"Hey," Jason's brows furrow as he looks to you, an idea popping into his head. "Gar still helping Dick?"

Your eyes narrow at him, not liking the question. "Assume so...why?"

"We could help." Jason proposes the idea and you just know he doesn't want to sit in front of a computer as a way to help. Jason is a hands-on kind of hero.

"Mmm." You hum. "What's your angle?"

"You said prove myself in a different way." Jason give you an eerily innocent smile.

"Mhm." You hum. "Yeah, he's probably in the comms lab trying to locate Dr. Light again." You tell him, trying to figure out what exactly he's getting at. Jason is anything but innocent.

Jason pushes himself from the door, gesturing for you to follow his lead. "So, let's help. An apology to Dick, offer my help here."

"Yeah, I don't believe your intentions are so pure if I'm being honest." You state, keeping your stance against his door.

Jason has a cocked grin, eyes devious. "You gonna stop me?"

You should but he didn't stop you. So, you roll your eyes and push off of the door. "Guess not."

Jason has this triumphant smile that makes your heart beat a little faster. Jason opens the door and you follow him. Something in you is saying Jason doesn't want to help with this. Not in this way. You worry he's going this to hunt Dr. Light down himself. But, he went with for Jerry. He never tried to talk you out of it because he knew he couldn't and you know you can't talk him out of this. You needed it and Jason needs this, too. Plus, you aren’t completely sure that’s what his plan is.

You get to the comms lab, Gar quickly typing away as Jason leans against the table, facing Gar. His hands grip the edge as he waits for Gar to look at him. You stand off to the side of Gar's chair.

"Hey?" Gar questions, looking between the two of you.

"Hey." Jason greets a little too kindly.

"You okay?" Gar asks, this time his voice has a little bit of concern. He takes a quick glance at you and then brings his eyes back to Jason.

"Yeah, yeah, I've been knocked down before." Jason nods his head, looking to you.

"Look, uh, Dick just reacted he didn't mean anything by it." Gar says, his voice soft and you want to melt. He's so kind and sweet and caring. He never wants anyone to hurt anyone, physically or mentally. He is so good.

"Yeah, he did." Jason keeps his voice level and honest. He gains this tired grin. "Look, I know what I am. I'm a dirty little favor to Bruce. And probably why they reopened this place." Jason looks around the room. "Scrap heap for rejects." You roll your eyes at the comment before you go back to eyeing him carefully.

"I'm not a reject." Gar shakes his head, his voice displeased and hurt by the remark.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean you." Jason shakes his head before looking at you. "Or you." He looks back to Gar.

"Look, you're not a reject, either, Jason. We're...we're Titans." Gar gets this huge smile, one of accomplishment and pride.

You keep your eyes narrowed as the smile falls from Jason's face. He's manipulating Gar. It's the way he spoke with ease. The way he smiled that wreaked of bad intentions. And that's when you know for certain. He wants to find Dr. Light so he can go after him. Jason wants to help in a different way, meaning he wants to do it all himself. That's the only reason why he walked in here the way he did, saying what he said and how he said it. If he came in here, immediately asking to help, a red flag would have been triggered for Gar. 

Jason turns to look at the large screen. "Hey, can I help you?" Jason asks, gaining the smile back as he pushes off the table.

"Uh, sure?" Gar says, leaning forward and wheeling the chair closer to the controls. "You okay?" Gar asks, looking back to you. "You're really quiet."

"Oh, yeah." You nod, glancing between and Gar and Jason. "It's nothing, it's fine." You’re not gonna get in the middle of Jason trying to find Dr. Light and him going off to find him. Gar won’t let Jason help if you say anything.

Gar eyes you with a bit of suspicion but decides not to press. He moves back to the computer and looks at the large screen that Jason is now standing just inches from.

"I'm just looking for heat signatures. After Dr. Light absorbed all that energy, he's gotta be radiation hot." Gar explains.

"What's that?" Jason points to a blank spot on the map.

Gar zooms in. "Emergency exits on the Bayline train station. Underground, so impossible to read."

"Train tunnels must have underground heat sensors." Jason looks behind him to Gar.

"Good idea." Gar gets this interested smile as he wheels over to the right and starts typing. "I'm just gonna piggyback on the Bayline system." Gar says and just like that, where there was once a blank spot, it's now glowing red. A large smile comes to your face and this is why Dick should give him a chance. He is in fact clever. Jason lets out a single laugh, a large and proud smile on his face. "Holy shit." Gar beams as a similar laugh leaves his lips. Gar wheels back over to the center of the control panel. "You're amazing, Jason. I think we got him." Gar says, barely finishing his sentence before he pushes off the chair, immediately heading for the hallway.

"Woah, where ya going?" Jason calls after him, quickly catching up to Gar before he can leave.

"To tell Dick." Gar states as if Jason should have known.

"I got a better idea." Jason starts and you groan internally. This isn't good. "Look, why don't we go take a quick look to make sure." Jason offers and you’re shocked he isn't going off on his own. You definitely expected him to try and sneak out of here. "Cause if we're wrong, we'll look like assholes."

Gar nods his head, an unamused smile on his lips. "Yeah..." He stops nodding, snapping his eyes at Jason. "No." He quickly turns back around to the hallway.

"Gar! I need this." Jason pleads and Gar stops again. "To make things right with Dick, to show him what I can do. Okay? What we can do."

Gar walks back over to Jason. "He knows what you can do." Gar's voice is sympathetic as he shakes his head. "You're Batman's guy." Gar's voice is quieter this time but still drenched in the same sincerity.

"Was." Jason corrects him. You raise a brow. This is the first time he's thought of Robin in the past tense. "I'm not saying we go rogue." Jason explains. "We'll just do some visual verification, lay eyes on the guy and call Dick. Look, help me out Gar." Jason pleads with him and this time, it seems Jason is being sincere rather than manipulating him. But, you know Jason won't call Dick. "I could use a win."

Gar pauses and looks past Jason to you, your feet seeming to be glued to the floor. "What do you think?" Gar asks. "You haven't said anything."

You let out a sigh, Jason turning and his eyes boring into you. If you say Jason is right, that'll be it. The three of you will go and it could end poorly. If you say Gar is right, Jason will be mad and probably go anyway. At least, if all three of you are there, maybe something horrible won't happen. You kind of owe him anyway and you do kind of agree with Jason. But, you feel like you’re not choosing on if you should go after Dr. Light or tell Dick. Instead, you feel like you’re choosing between the boys with both of them looking at you and expecting you to agree with both of them.

"I dunno." Your voice holds reluctance. "I just..."

"Come on, Y/n." Jason pleads with you now. "You wanna prove it to Dick, too, right? You just said you're tired of being cooped up here. When we went after Jerry, as soon as you said we should call him, we did. It's the same thing."

You let out a sigh because you know that. "Stop kissing my ass." You roll your eyes. "I mean..." You look to Gar. "We could be heroes tonight." You raise your brow at him and there's a drop in Gar's expression but Jason's brightens. You don't want to sit around helping like this either. You want to do something and you do not want Jason to get himself killed tonight.

"Really?" Gar's voice is filled of disappointment. He thought you'd side with him, especially with how you were right after going after Jerry.

"I mean..." You pause. "I've fucked up with Dick, too and it does suck. If we could do this for him, maybe it'll prove that we're more than just those fuck ups. You haven't done anything, of course, but you're like...the responsible one." You state before looking to Jason. "No offense." You look back to Gar. "If we have you with us, maybe Dick will appreciate the three of us working together and being there for backup, ya know?"

Gar pauses and he's not winning this. He can tell by the looks in yours and Jason’s eyes, you're both a bit desperate to prove something. Jason just wants to prove that he is worth something. He's worth the time and the effort and the energy. He's meant to be Robin. You, Gar isn't really sure what you want to prove. But, it's the way your brows furrow and your voice quivers that he can tell it means something to you. Maybe you just want to prove you’re useful. You’re the only one no one who hasn’t been in some type of fight that isn't training. Everyone even saw Rose on the TV fighting. So, Gar caves despite his better judgment.

"Quick look, then we call Dick." Gar's voice is serious and stern, as if he's really taking the comment about being the responsible one to heart.

Jason smiles casually as he nods. "I promise."

"Let's get going then and hurry the fuck up." You walk past Jason.

"I'm gonna grab something real quick, I'll meet you guys outside." Jason says before walking past you, jogging down the hallway.

Gar gives you a look as the two of you head down the same hallway. "Siding with Jason?"

You let out a sigh. "I get it, ya know?" You shrug your shoulders. "Like...I dunno just wanting to be good enough." Your voice is quiet. "We all just want to be good enough for something, right? And I have these new powers and I'm going stir-crazy over it. I feel useless. I'm the only one who hasn't done anything. I beat up some basic ass psycho. He never even put up a fucking fight." You scoff. "I owe him, ya know?"

"You don't." Gar shakes his head. "And you are good enough. Dick knows you are." Gar urges and he doesn’t want you making bad decisions to prove something Dick already knows.

"It's different, Gar." You lick your lips. "Jason never tried to talk me out of going. He knew he couldn't do it. He knew I wouldn't listen to him. So, he came with to make sure I'd be okay and that I wouldn't kill him." You shake your head. "Uh....just...I don't want to get into the nitty-gritty of it all that night but," You look to the floor, watching as your shoes touch the floor. "He did a lot for me that night, like what you do." You nod at him and Gar gets it now.

Maybe you and Jason do flirt with each other and maybe there is something going on. He doesn't really know and a part of him would like to be left in ignorant bliss about it but ever since that night, something was different between you and Jason. Gar can't put his finger on it, but it seemed different. And now he knows why. You got to see a side of Jason no one else ever gets to see. Jason treats you like a person and you do him. Jason makes you feel like a person, an important person just like Gar does. It's just a little different.

Gar nods with understanding. "For the record," Gar lets out a sigh. "I think you're both good enough."

Heat creeps through your cheeks as your face softens. "Thank you, Gar." You feel the giddiness course through your veins. "You are also plenty good enough."

Gar chuckles softly. "Thanks, Y/n." Gar reaches his door, opening it. "Just grabbing my jacket."

"Yeah, I'm gonna grab a different hoodie." You jerk your head towards your room.

The two of you part ways to grab your different clothes. Gar goes with his red and white jacket while you grab a black athletic jacket. It's warm, jet-black, and it's a zip-up. You tie a belt around your waist, the belt lined with varying knives you’ve been given over the last few months from Dick. And you hide it under your hoodie. You know damn well this is going to get ugly and if Gar sees this, he'll back out and tell Dick. But, you aren't going to go unprepared. So, you hide it.

Once the three of you are outside, you head off to find Dr. Light. Jason, naturally showed up in his Robin suit. You and Gar aren’t even surprised. It's completely on brand. You think Jason would sleep in it if he could.

Once you reach the tunnels, that's when things start feeling a little off. You have a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something just doesn't feel quite right here. A part of you thinks you’re just anxious over facing a villain. You know Jason isn't going to call Dick. He's going to put up a fight because that's just Jason. He's going against all odds to prove himself and this is a perfect opportunity. So, maybe you’re just anxious about that. But, you try to brush it off because you’re with the two boys who would never let anything happen to you.

"I thought this was reconnaissance only." Gar states as the three of you head down the stairs into the tunnels. "You're overdressed." Gar sounds tired and like he's done dealing with Jason's shit.

Jason laughs. "Exactly reconnaissance on a homicidal psychopath." The three of you stop walking. Jason leans against the railing on his side, facing you and Gar. You stand right in the middle of them. "Safety first."

"Yeah...that's why you wore the suit." You quip as you cross your arms over your chest.

Gar looks at the two of you before shaking his head. "I'm calling Dick." He says, completely through with now the both of you as he goes to head up the stairs.

"Gar, wait." You call but you keep your footing where you are.

"Yeah, come on, man." Jason whines. "Okay, you agreed to help me out. Please?"

"It'll be fine." You assure Gar with the easy shrug of your shoulders.

"See, Y/n’s on board." Jason points at you with an open palm. "Let's go." Jason jerks his head down the stairs.

Gar is so fed up with this already. He just gestures lazily out in front of him for Jason to take the lead again. The three of you walk down the stairs together, Jason feeling fantastic about himself, Gar wants to go home, and you’re stuck in between the two of them, literally and figuratively.

"Alright," Jason says as you reach the bottom of the stairs, all of you coming to a stop. "Let's uh, let's split up."

"Huh?" Gar hums, his voice high-pitched.

You scrunch your entire face at Jason, appalled. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"What?" Jason scoffs.

"Bad idea!" You groan.

"Man," Gar puts a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Don't you remember any of the horror movies we've watched?" There's a bit of panic in his voice.

"One of the easiest rules to remember is to not split up, Jason." You explain dramatically.

"You both wanna get out here fast, right?" Jason nods his head slowly and dramatically. "The three of us will get the job done in half the time." Jason says as he starts walking off.

"One of us definitely needs to go with him." You let out a sigh.

Gar's face is panicked but he manages a frown at you. "No way."

"Hey, I'm not going alone and you and I both know Jason functions strictly on reckless abandon. One of us has to be with him for safety measures." You gesture an open hand down the tunnel. "He's already left us." Honestly, you’re not happy about the whole splitting up thing but Jason seemed to make that decision for the three of you.

Gar lets out a groan. "Fine, okay." He puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes softly. "I just, I got a bad feeling."

You nod but you choose not to put more worry into him. You don't like when he worries so much. "It'll be fine. You can turn into a tiger, I can melt people, Jason is very good at kicking ass and he does have the Robin suit which has weapons. We'll be fine." You rest a hand on Gar's shoulder and give him a gentle smile. The action was supposed to make him feel better but something about it doesn’t.

"Okay." He nods reluctantly.

"Meet you after." You give Gar a wink before turning and jogging down one of the tunnels to catch up with Jason.

You catch up with Jason, Jason hearing your pattering footsteps behind him. He knows it's you by the lightless of your steps.

"Can I fucking help you?" Jason quips.

"How-how did you know it was me?" You ask as you catch up to him, coming to a walking speed.

Jason lets out a laugh. "You're not fucking subtle." If anyone was going to follow him, it’d be you.

"Ha-ha." You mock him. "I came to make sure..." You pause as Jason looks at you, eyes narrowed and this is like when you went to beat up Jerry. Him in the Robin suit, you in street clothes, going to find a piece of shit. Maybe there's a bit of comfort in reckless abandon. "You don't kill him." You flash him a smirk.

There's a prideful smile across Jason's lips as he looks forward. He got the reference. He remembers telling you that that night.

"Gonna be able to pull me off him, huh?"

"Well," You shrug. "I was trained by the best, ya know?" You lift your hoodie so he can see the knives. "I, too, came a little overdressed for the occasion."

Jason lets out a laugh, his nose scrunching. "Yeah? And how's Gar feel about that?"

"Oh, well, he doesn't know." You let outa sigh, a guilty expression on your face. "He would have told Dick if he saw but I wasn't coming unprepared."

A triumphant smile pulls at Jason's lips as he boasts his chest. "Well, hey, I'm just glad you finally fucking admit I'm the best." Jason chortles.

"Oh, shut the fuck up." You roll your eyes. "Seriously, though," You let out a breath. "This is honestly stupid, like you know that, right?"

The smile falls. "No, he's a stupid fucking lightbulb."

"Uh-huh, yes, but the other Titans seem afraid of him. You don't think that's the least bit weird?" You raise.

"Could just be that Deathstroke is out there and his daughter is at the tower." Jason snarks.

"Fair." You let out a sigh, knowing that might be true. Everything you’ve heard about Dr. Light doesn’t sound too terrifying in terms of bad guys. "You don't seem to mind who Rose's dad is." You look to the ground for a split second, Jason catching it and a smirk comes to his face. Game time.

"Jealous?" He quips, looking at you and you think the mask makes him look a little goofy and he knows exactly what he's doing because you asked him the same thing last time.

"You fucking wish." You mock him and Jason lets out this laugh that bubbles your stomach. You wish he laughed more.

"If I did?" Jason continues and this time you look at him. He's looking straight ahead with a smirk that makes you want to kiss it right off his face. Shut him right up. But, you don't because you do like Gar.

You roll your eyes. "Alright, you fucking smartass."

"You always do that." Jason remarks, his voice drenched in confidence.

"Do what?" You glance to Jason.

"Deflect, backtrack. We go and back forth, and when you get stuck, you backtrack." Jason tilts his head to the right and then straights it back out with a shrug.

"Your point?" You raise, curious where he's going with this, but give him a teasing grin anyway.

Jason shrugs. "No point, just pointing it out." He is curious why you always do it. He wonders if it's because of Gar. Maybe you'd commit a bit more to the flirty banter, keep it going, if it weren't for Gar. Or maybe it's because it's him. He doesn't know but he definitely likes trying to figure you out.

"Mhm." You hum, not believing him. "Well? You and Rose?"

You don't even know why you’re pushing for an answer but you are. They've been hanging out a little more and you’re curious. Rose is cool and you like Rose. You swear it's not jealousy, that's not why you’re asking. You’re just curious.

"Why don't you tell me why you wanna know so bad?" Jason's brows are furrowed as he looks to you, his smirk turning taunting.

You wave a finger at him. "Why don't you tell me why you wanna know about Gar and me so bad?" You match the smirk with pride. 

Jason's eyes narrow at you, a smile pulling up as he licks his bottom lip and turns forward again. He wants to know but only if it's the answer he wants. He'd rather not have to hear that you like him and he likes you. That you're some sort of couple or you want them to be. You are Jason’s friend so he'd suck it up for you, of course, but he doesn't want to actively hear it. The idea of rejection makes his mouth grow sour. But, he's not going to tell you that.

"You first." Jason states and decides to throw the ball in your court.

You shrug. The issue with the two boys for you is that Gar makes you feel stable and safe, secure. He makes you happy and you feel...content. You feel this weird feeling of peace with him that you can't quite explain. In a way, you feel kind of like your old self, but a more mature version of it. It's not about the games or jokes between you, it's just very soft. It is warmth like a fireplace in a brutal winter. You feel like nothing bad or dangerous could ever be happen with Gar because of the peace that just radiates from him. You can't even figure it out which is fun. He makes you feel comfortable, something you really miss. But, then there's Jason.

Jason makes you feel like you’re on fire. Every part of you is bursting into flames around him and it doesn't even hurt, it's just exhilarating. It feels like the two of you could burn an entire city down together. And yet, you feel safe with him, too. There is not a single doubt in your mind that Jason would protect you against anything in the world. And you'd do the same for him. Jason has this sort of recklessness about him that you find intriguing. You don't know what he's gonna do or what he's thinking, something about that is endearing. Jason makes you feel alive with the fire in your belly and that brings you this sense of comfort you have craved for years. And you don't have to hide anything from him, not any of the trauma because Jason has already seen it all and went through it all. He just gets you. But, then you come back to Gar again and the idea of just being soft. The two boys have pros and cons, every person does, and you know what you want but you’re not sure if what you want meets what you need. So, you shrug.

"I mean, she's pretty and you seemed into her." You let the words roll off your tongue as if it's not a bitter sting in your throat.

Jason nods once. "Yeah, she is." He chuckles softly, it's fake though. "Don't know." Jason huffs. "Don't really know her, ya know?"

"Mhm, yeah." You nod your head. "I get it."

"You seem into Gar. He's definitely into you." Jason lets out a breath, deciding to make something up, piggybacking off your reasoning.

"Yeah..." You let out a huff, a sad smile on your lips. "He does sometimes but I don't know."

Your lack of mention about your feelings doesn't go unnoticed by Jason. But, he doesn't say anything. He doesn't want to know. "Oh, no, he does." Jason's eyes widen. "Everyone can fucking see it." He chortles a little more bitterly than he intended.

"Not to me." You scoff. You look to the ground and back to Jason who hasn't taken his eyes off of you. You look forward and that's when you see a little bit of light from the end of the tunnel. "What's that?" You jerk your head forward, Jason shining the flashlight in that direction.

"Found him." Jason smirks, more to himself than to you.

"So, we're calling Dick, right?" You raise a brow at him as you both keep walking.

Jason just looks at you and he knows you’re being facetious. "You gonna call him? Or you gonna let me fucking do this?"

You sigh. "I'm not gonna stop you." You shake your head. "By the time I go call Dick, it'll be over. Go do your thing, I'll be here if you need help and to make sure you don't kill him." You flash him a smile.

"Thanks." Jason's voice is sincere as he walks further ahead of you, ready to take out the walking, talking lightbulb.

Dr. Light is using his energy or taking energy from the tunnels, Jason and you can't quite tell. But, while doing that, it sees he also sucks the energy from Jason's flashlight, it dying while Jason bangs it with his hand. This gets Dr. Light's attention.

"What? The big kids weren't available?" Dr. Light asks once he's on his feet. "They sent Junior Robin." The whole tunnel goes dark and suddenly you’re anxious. Maybe you should have gone with Gar. "Maybe you're just a fanboy."

Jason throws his flashlight off to the side, clearly not having whatever bullshit Dr. Light is going to keep throwing at him. The back of your head starts throbbing, the throbbing echoing to the front. Dr. Light starts firing light bursts, you and Jason dodging out of the way quickly. The throbbing in your head gets louder and more aggressive. Dr. Light lets out a sinister snicker as you move to Jason, grabbing his arm to try and help him up. Dr. Light towers over you both until you get to your feet. You let go and Jason lunges at Dr. Light, punching him in the face with a yell. Dr. Light puts up a good fight and overpowers Jason, throwing Jason right into the wall of the tunnel. He grabs Jason by the collar and throws him to the ground before moving to you.

Your hands glow at your sides, eying Dr. Light. You have no intentions of fighting him today. This isn't exactly what you signed up for but hey, if Jason and you get this guy, that's bonus points for you.

"Some competition." Dr. Light cackles before shooting a light burst at you but you’re faster because of the throbbing. You were out of the way before the light burst even left Dr. Light.

"Maybe for you," You snark, looking just past him where Jason is kneeling, getting to his feet. "Not for us though." You shoot acid at him, just missing as he dodges and he laughs but as he's turning around, you’re already throwing a knife, the knife grazing his arm.

Dr. Light glares at you, feeling the blood trickle down his arm. He's not going easy on either of you now, he will not be beaten up by two little Tikes. But, Jason is back on his feet now, a look of determination and stubbornness that you can make out even in the dark tunnel.

"Hey, Lightbulb." Jason snarks, getting his attention. "Pick on someone your own fucking size."

Dr. Light takes the opportunity to shoot light bursts at Jason but Jason is also quicker and dodges them and blocks them with his cape. You officially think the cape is the coolest part of his suit. The light didn't do anything to Jason or his cape. It's actually really cool.

"Is it light like light beer light?" Jason quips.

"Shut the fuck up." Dr. Light yells, shooting more light bursts at Jason. You stand behind Dr. Light, letting Jason do his thing as promised and you have to admit, this guy is a fucking idiot. Jason and you have him cornered and he can't even focus on both of you. The older Titans are so scared of him...because?

"Fuck you!" Jason yells before he storms Dr. Light.

Jason starts punching him and Dr. Light can't get a single hit in. You stand back and let him just go for it. He let you go after Jerry, so you let him go after Dr. Light. You do, however, stand with a knife in your hand, the other hand glowing faintly as if waiting for this to go south. If Dr. Light suddenly gets this burst of energy, you want to be prepared to step in and help Jason. But, by the look of Jason grabbing him and pining Dr. Light to the ground, you don't think he'll need it.

"This Titan's back bitch." Jason snarls before going in for more punches to Dr. Light's face.

You move closer anyway as Jason's punches get more erratic and aggressive, getting the sense you'll have to pull him off. As you watch, you get a glimpse of how Jason felt that night. Based on things Jason has said, you know he views Jerry like he views any other villain, a waste of space. There is not a single part of you that thinks he was ever against you beating him up. He only pulled you off so you wouldn't be a murderer and have to live with the repercussion of that. And you get it because while watching him is actually pretty badass and, albeit, very attractive, it is worrisome.

He's aggressive and filled of fire. It's like he could go through this for hours and not get tired. You don't want him to be so angry anymore. He doesn't deserve to have so much aggression in him. He's better than that, he's worth more than that. And you want to stop him because there's this throbbing starting again in the back of your head. Dr. Light is on the ground, Jason has him, someone is coming. The throbbing intensifies, right at the base of your head and you know.

You spin around, only to be met with Deathstroke, holding his sword out a centimeter from your face. Your heart stops, your breath caught in your throat while time freezes. This is so much worse than Dr. Light and it’s only going to get worse. Jason is going to turn around and probably lose it. And Dr. Light starts cackling underneath Jason as Jason pauses for a breath.

Jason thinks he's just a twisted fuck for a second. Surely, this guy isn’t crazy enough to think getting the shit beat out of him is funny. That's the only logical explanation except that you haven't said a single word and you’re not in his eyesight anymore.

"Jay?" You call and your voice is so small, Jason's heart sinks.

He turns around slowly and there's Deathstroke with a sword to your face. Jason's entire heart feels like it's been ripped from his chest. It's nearly paralyzed him. He didn't prepare for this and suddenly, he's drowning in his own regret. He should have known better.

"Drop the knife." Deathstroke says calmly.

You suck in a breath, eyes locked on Deathstroke. Jason watches as his eyes are filled with panic and you drop the knife, the metal clanking against the concrete beneath you. You both are so fucked. Dr. Light gets the upper hand now, grabbing Jason by the cape and punching him. Jason lets out a yell as Dr. Light attacks him.

On instinct, you take a step back, turning around to face Dr. Light. You don’t make any further movements, knowing Deathstroke could stab you and kill you at any point. But, you’re not going to face Deathstroke while Dr. Light decides he can target Jason now.

"Just stop!" You yell out. "What? Guys can't lay a hand on the other Titans so you target us?" You yell to try and distract Dr. Light but it's no use.

Jason gets knocked out with one of the punches, Dr. Light considering it a job well done and before you can even process anything else, there’s a harsh hit to your head, sending you unconscious as well.

Gar heard Jason scream and you yelling something incoherent from the tunnel he went down. His heart and stomach drop right to his feet. He immediately starts sprinting to where the two of you went. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew the second Jason brought up splitting up, it would be a bad idea. And he had a worse feeling when you remained silent. It's unlike you to be quiet and he thought maybe it was because you agreed with him, that you should tell Dick. You just didn't want to argue with Jason and only agreed to it because you feel you owe him. But, now, he's thinking maybe it really was just that you wanted this, too and Gar is kicking himself because he should have known. He should have known the two of you going off together would only end in a disaster and his thoughts are confirmed when he reaches the tunnel you were in.

He finds Jason’s tossed flashlight, one of your knives, and two streaks of blood on the pavement. Gar is about to lose his mind in a fit of panic. You and Jason have been kidnapped.

prev. chapter | next chapter 

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @thatfangirl42 // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555​

[pinkcannibal]

You don’t have to write this if you don’t want to!!

Could I request student x teacher relationship with marilyn and reader? Marilyn drives reader back to campus but notices that reader has had a bad day so she pulls up to a secluded area to check if she’s okay, but reader isn’t the best with her emotions, so when marilyn makes eye contact with her, reader just lunges forwards capturing her lips with her own. And reader didn’t expect marilyn to kiss back, so when she does, mari climbs out of her seat and onto readers lap (doesn’t matter who’s on top of who) and there’s just smut from there?

a/n of course! ty for the request! this is actually very similar to a scene in my fic skdksd but fuck it we ball. usual needed disclaimer; reader is a student and 20.

-

title: my girl

pairings: marilyn thornhill x fem!reader

tw/warnings: heavy smut, car sex, dumbification, soft!dom marilyn thornhill, bottom!reader, riding, fingering, typical canon marilyn manipulation (very slightly)

summary: your mind has been empty, spacey and dazed all day. until miss thornhill fills it with something else, something tender and all consuming.

word count: 1800

requests: open!

The radio of Marilyn’s buggy plays this familiar song, dreamy and soft it lulls between the gentle silence between the two of you.

You can’t place it, the song, it feels a little far away with how spacey you’ve been today, how fuzzy your brain has been after the all nighter of studying you pulled and how you’ve been a little untethered with stress lately.  

You thought coffee would help from the Weathervane. It didn’t. But all your sleepiness melted away when you ran into Miss Thornhill outside the café and you smiled when she offered to drive you back to Nevermore. When you got into her car she reached behind to her back seat and offered you an old hoodie that was sitting amongst some plants she had picked up. You took it eagerly, sighing in comfort as her scent encased you and Marilyn huffed on this tender laugh, endeared at the sight.  

You don’t realise your hazy mood is back again until you're shifting down in the passenger seat, pulling the neckline of her hoodie up and breathing in the scent for comfort.  

Marilyn squeezes to your hand in your lap, making you look up softly. You watch her send a quick worried look to you from her gaze on the road, warm brown eyes making you hold tighter to her hand.  

“You’ve been awfully quiet, honey.” She says, “Are you okay?” 

You soften at her concern, how sometimes you swear her voice could make you do anything she wanted, anything she asked – if your heart rate picks up at the mere thought, you ignore it, instead humming and furrowing your brows to yourself.  

“Oh,“ You breathe out, plastering on a reassuring smile as she quickly glances to you again. “M’sorry, yeah, just really um, spacey today.” 

You’re holding back what you really want to say, that for a moment in time you want to give her all of your control, because lately you’ve been so busy and stressed and out of it that for just a second, you wish you didn’t have to keep thinking for yourself. That she would do it for you. But you don’t know how to convey that at all, where do you begin?  

Hey, Mari, can you kiss me until I forget my own name and mark me until I’m yours?  

Miss Thornhill frowns at you, instantly picking up that you aren’t fully telling her the truth.

You blush a little at her knowing head tilt, and before you know it she’s peeling off to a secluded area adjacent to the road from Jericho to Nevermore. Now, you realise that it’s softly raining, so out of it you hadn’t realised the windscreen is dotted in heavy rain and slightly foggy; how the trees around you sway from the windy weather.  

Marilyn puts the car in park, unbuckling and turning to you slightly in her seat. When her finger and thumb come up to your chin to hold, you feel your cheeks warm, throat closing up tightly at her comforting but stern gaze.  

“Don’t lie to me, baby.” She softly murmurs, and you feel your chest deflate in need at her tone. Baby. You wonder if your eyes are shining back with the desperation you can feel in your belly.  

You love it when she calls you that, it’s the most gentle yet slightly degrading sensation that you always, always chase.

“You were quiet this morning too,” Marilyn continues, making you blush in shame as she worriedly fixes her glasses. “Is everything okay?” 

You part your lips to answer, because Miss Thornhill is being understanding and kind and so loving but words are hard right now, and her thumb is just at your lip rubbing soothingly and it’s like your brain goes dumb, filled with nothing but her and how she makes you feel and how the rain against the windscreen and the storm is making everything slightly dark; making her hazel eyes so alluring that you’re powerless to wanting her.  

You try and answer her, you do, but all that leaves your lips is a helpless whine because you feel so floaty because of her it’s hard to breathe.  

So you dart forwards, straining against your seat belt for her lips and Marilyn makes this little noise of surprise at the back of her throat, but still kisses you back softly and you melt – hand coming up to the juncture of her neck to hold onto and deepen the kiss.  

“Sweetie,” She breathes out against your lips, voice a little breathless and husky at how you don’t give her a second until your diving back in for more. And this tiny, high-pitched moan leaves you when Marilyn allows you to kiss deeper, taste her tongue and bite gently to her lower lip.  

“Baby, slow down, I-” She groans, eye lids fluttering shut as your lips find the tendon of her neck and she tugs a little at the hair she fists just below the back of your neck, making you strain against your seat belt to be closer.  

Miss Thornhill huffs on this endearing laugh at your action, how you whine petulantly at being so far away from her. She takes pity on you, unclipping your belt as you basically fall into her, instantly moving across the centre console and straddling her lap.  

It’s a little awkward and hard, but Marilyn easily settles you in her hold. Her hands come to your hips to hold you steadily and you suddenly feel so safe and turned on and needy for her attention and touch – you tighten your thighs around her to be as close as you can be, bucking a little, and don’t miss how the action has the other woman’s eyes darkening.  

Here, this close, you can feel the buttons of her blue jumpsuit press into the plane of your sternum; how her chest presses into yours. “Come here,” Marilyn murmurs gently, placing her hand at your jawline and bringing you into a deep kiss, one that has you gasping into her mouth and shutting your eyes in relief. You reach up, hands curling around her shoulders and to the back of her neck. 

You know this is her way of saying I’ve got you, let go.  

So, you do.  

Her other hand, warm and soft, glides under the hem of your skirt and to your inner thigh and you’re burning, feeling yourself throb in time with your heartbeat.  

“Need you,” You moan against her lips, this desperate thing that bubbles up from the warmth of your lower stomach. You pull back, shuffling impossibly closer to get her hand where you need her. Your lips part, throat bobbing in desperation as your eyes water. “P-Please, Mari, I need...” 

Miss Thornhill’s eyes soften beneath her glasses, this faux sympathetic look that has you lightheaded.  

“Oh, honey,” She says, thumb rubbing deep, hypnotising circles at your inner thigh, her fingers gliding higher and higher to where you need her. You whimper at her tone.  

“You’re so spacey and dumb for me.” She coos, a little mocking but still so loving and you wonder how she can see right through you, give you exactly what you need. You whimper, heat swarming your core as you flush red at her words. “Can you tell me what you need? Use your words, baby.” 

Oh god. You swallow thickly, bashfully shifting on her lap and Marilyn tilts her head at you, eyes almost black, endeared at how desperate you are in her hold. You can’t look at her without blushing in embarrassment, so you instead rest your forehead where her shoulder meets her neck, squeezing your eyes shut as you gasp out.  

“Your...your fingers. Please, I-” Your stomach flips, slurring pathetically around the words. “I wanna ride you, Mari.” You breathe out, and you think you actually feel some part of you fall and sink inside of yourself, because you feel Miss Thornhill groan softly at the words, you feel it travel down from your head to your chest to your thighs.  

The rain is still so heavy, fogging up the glass of the car. The radio is still playing that song, almost silent, but now that you’re so awake with clarity at her touch, you realise what it is. My Girl, by the Temptations. And suddenly your heart is in your throat. 

Then, her fingers are under your skirt, dipping into the waistband of your underwear and now with her touch gliding up through your wetness and to your clit, you feel how wet you are, practically gushing onto the pads of her fingers and you moan, sinking onto two of them right down to the knuckle.  

You feel full, so full and instantly loved and this relief of handing over your burden to her floods you, so much so you whine into the crook of her neck and rock against her fingers. Muttering; “More, harder, faster, please please please-”  

You hear Marilyn let out these small hitches of breath, that fall into husky moans as she watches you take her fingers, curling into you and hitting exactly where you need her. It’s overwhelming, and it becomes almost too much when Miss Thornhill, breathless and groaning, says next to your ear that: “You’re so good, sweet girl. So good for me. Look at you.” She coos, voice so sweet and in awe of you atop her fingers.

“Oh, fuck,” She swears, because you fist her red hair in your hands and tug making her hiss, and you feel yourself near your peak at Marilyn swearing.  

“Come for me baby,” The other woman says, desperate and a little needy. “Please, god, come on my fingers.” She pleads, and it explodes behind your eyes so suddenly that you stutter on a cry, hand flying out to catch yourself on the foggy window as you gush onto her fingers and moan loudly into her neck.  

And the rain falls, and you hear through the crackle of the static radio: “I’ve got sunshine...on a cloudy day...when it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May. My girl, my girl, my girl- and you pant into Marilyn’s neck, burrowing so close into her gentle hold.

So in love, so at ease, that you never, ever want to leave.