#and bat’s got that ‘a family that puts their lives on the line’ thing going for them (kuukou @ hitoya: i would die for you and jyushi)

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Danny's Strange Gifts to the Bats

So you know how it's common knowledge to not accept any gifts from the Fae? Well, even if the batfam knows about it - I mean, they've dealt with a lot of otherworldly stuff, besides, you shouldn't take things from strangers no matter if they are Fae or not - they might not always abide by it. Unknowingly.

The trick is that you never know if it's a gift or not when you're dealing with the fair folk.

So things start appearing in the Wayne manor. Nothing out of the ordinary, really. A book left on the table in the library, a vintage teacup in the kitchen drawer, a cat toy with some real bird feathers. No one pays them much attention. After all, when you live in a family this big, you don't really keep track of who brings home what.

The book was probably left by Jason. The teacup is most likely Alfred's new addition. The cat toy is totally Damian's. It's not the first time and surely not the last when one or another member of the flock brought something to the manor. The book is put on the shelf, the teacup is now Steph's favorite, and Alfred the cat really likes those feathers.

And then, one day, they all get down for breakfast. Damian is the first to appear, with Alfred the cat in his hands, then comes Dick, who stayed in the manor for the weekends, and Steph, who was here for the movie night and decided going home was too much work. Tim comes to the table with a tablet that is quickly put away the moment Alfred starts serving food. Bruce and Duke come the last, taking their seats, and it is almost like a signal for everyone to start eating. After all, everyone is here now. It is peaceful and quiet, a rare but not unwelcome occurrence that Bruce greatly appreciates.

That is, until a few minutes later, Damian appears in the doorway.

"Good morning," he greets, and everyone at the table freezes.

And then does a double take.

Damian is in the doorway.

Damian is also sitting in his seat, eating waffles, the only one who did not stop when the other Damian appeared.

There are two of them.

Damian-sitting-at-the-table looks up to Damian-standing-in-the-doorway and smiles. His face is stuffed with waffles.

"Goov movning, bvothev," he greets back, and before anyone else can react, Damian-in-the-doorway clicks his tongue.

"You are in my seat. Move."

"I don't see your name on it, therefore it is not yours," argues the other one, not moving from his place. Yet now, when everyone can see his eyes, they finally notice the difference. The one sitting at the table has blue eyes.

Tim all but jumps up from his seat, slamming his hands on the tabletop:

"You-" he nearly chokes on his words, when blie-eyed Damian looks at him, and then at everyone at the table with a confused frown.

"But I thought you liked the vintage films for your camera that I got you? And those four-leaved clovers?" He asks, looking almost hurt. The normal, green-eyed Damian looks thoroughly disappointed:

"Have you been accepting my brother's gifts, Drake? You're lucky they were not courtship gifts."

"Court-" Tim sputters in the middle of the word, looking between the two.

Bruce lets out a long, absolutely resigned sigh. Was it too much to ask for just one, single normal morning?..

Long story short, Danny, being a fae and also just generally a little shit, kept leaving gifts for Bats all over the manor, and they all unknowingly accepted them one way or another, so now Danny has the power to ask for something in return. He chooses to just come to the manor and dump the fact that he is going to live here on them at breakfast. Technically, he just ended the long line of gifts by giving the last one, himself.

| <-prev | next-> |

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny wasn't sure what to do. Was this legal? He knew the bats were part of the Justice League and whatnot but surely they can't just pick him up off the street after he got into a brawl with some creeps trying to mug him!

Sure, Nightwing had jumped down to help and Danny, still in his living form with its crappy human vision, thought he was another mugger because of the dark and attacked him too.

Now he's sitting in the back seat of the batmobile with his hands in wierd bat handcuffs.

Was everything these guys owned bat themed? Yeah his parents put there last name in all the titles of their inventions but they had a brand to sell so it was excusable. Batman however, is clearly living out his bat shaped dreams. Usually Danny was all for the furrys doing thier thing, one of his best friends was a proud furry and Danny 100% supported him, but there was a line you don't cross and tall dark and fuzzy crossed it when he kidnaped one 14 year old Danny Fenton.

He couldn't Go Ghost right in front of Batman and Nightwing but he could use the one thing his mom made him take with him everywhere since he was a little boy.

His panic button.

It was powered by ectoplasm and could get through signal jammer with no problem. If he pressed the button his parents would drop everything to come save him. They made sure to put little sirens and flashing lights in thier own hazmat suits to make sure they didn't accidentally miss it. Sure they looked hilarious the few times he had seen it go off in his life but it was highly effective.

So he pushed the button and his parents were charging torward them in record time, the GAV playing chicken with the freaking batmobile. Suddenly his mothers voice came from the panic button, "Are you in the front of back, sweetie?"

"I, uh." He stuttered, looking up at the shocked face of Nightwing before answering, "The back."

"Perfect." He mother said darkly.

A trio of high mechanical whines filled the air and Danny didn't need to look through the windshield to know the buzz saws were out.

----

Bruce just wanted to know why Danny Fenton, youngest of the Fenton Family and son of Jack Fenton and Madeline Walker, two people whose marriage brokered peace between thier prospective mafia syndicate families, was doing in Gotham beating up low level thugs.

He was not expecting overprotective mad scientist parents.

[luludeluluramblings]

what the family will do if when they found out about the baby MC was already living in an apartment and was giving birth? Like all of them were hanging out and the House phone got a call from a doctor telling them MC was giving birth and Alfred and Stephanie were like "WHAT!! THAT TOO SOON!!" and the others are like "WHAT!!!" maybe they know that MC moved out but it was not long enough to start to.... miss her?

Or maybe they were starting to miss her but they still didn't visit (other than Alfred and Steph).

*Phone ringing in Wayne Manor*

Dick picks it up.

Dick: Hello, this is the-

Pregnant!Reader on the other side of the line in labor: Dick, shut up. Put Alfred on the phone. Now.

Dick: Excuse me. Rude. You know it's family movie night.

Pregnant!Reader: Don't care. Alfred.

Dick: Look, you know you can come to this things. You really need to stop being such a wet blanket. We haven't seen you in weeks-

Pregnant!Reader: Get. Me. Alfred.

Bruce and the rest of the Bat Family turning to see what the deal is.

Dick, putting the phone on speaker and handing it to Bruce.

Dick: They're being awfully rude tonight.

Bruce sighing: Now, young lady-

Pregnant!Reader: SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET ME ALFRED!

Bat Family being stunned silent.

Bruce: Young lady-

Pregnant!Reader: NO! No. No. No. I don't wanna hear a damn thing from you or any of y'all chucklefucks right now.

Pregnant!Reader: I am in labor. LABOR.

Pregnant!Reader: I have a kid about to drop from my cunt, and if y'all don't hand the phone to Alfred by the time my next contraction hits, I am going to shove my placenta so far up the ass of whoever's hands are on that damn phone until they fucking CHOKE ON IT.

Bat Family looking at Bruce who is holding said phone.

Dick: I'm gonna go get...

Alfred already holding a bag and the keys to the mini van he had Bruce sign off on purchasing: I have the car seat and your backup hospital bag, young miss. I will be there in ten minutes.

Bat Family scrambling into the minivan.

Part Two...

A/N: In my defense, I may have had too much caffeine when I wrote this.

[sunnie-angel]

Part 12: The Reunion

part 11 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason reaches out for help with his serial killer case. dick comes to help and that goes about as well as can be expected.

tags: complicated sibling dynamics, stalking, fear for one's life, gaslighting, off screen implied sex

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 2.3k

a/n: thank you so much to everyone who helped me trouble shoot the plot problems i was having with this chapter!

Jason’s gonna kill Dick for this. How Dick had ended up in the middle of Gotham University’s campus at 10:08 in the morning waiting for Jason to show up to a meeting no one had bothered telling him about, Jason doesn’t know. He also doesn’t care, only he can’t have this happening again. Dick wasn’t supposed to be here, he wasn’t supposed to be the one Jason was meeting with, and he definitely wasn’t supposed to know about this side of Jason’s life at all. Maybe he should have known better. You attract the attention of one Bat, you get them all.

Which fuck, fine, Jason can find a way to live with their nosiness and their disappointment if that means he can keep you safe. What he won’t stand for is them terrorizing you. Jason can tell from a few tense lines of text that you’re nervous, that Dick makes you nervous. Can already see the down-turned lines carving themselves into your cheeks as you glare at him suspiciously. So he plays it off, the little shithead brother looking to stir up trouble with his family, anything to make the hard line of your shoulders soften. He’d dropped everything and broken more than a few traffic laws driving to campus, hoping against hope that for once in his life Dick would actually listen to him.

Jason slows to a fast walk as he yanks the doors to the student union open a little too hard, panicked but not wanting to show it. A muscle in his jaw clenches as he finds the place practically deserted and Dick sprawled out on the bench where Jason expects to find you. There’s the requested chili dog sitting on the table across from Dick and so Jason grudgingly takes the bench in front of it.

“What are you doin’ here?” Jason asks bluntly. He keeps his hands below the table, unable to hide how badly they tremble at seeing Dick for the first time in years without a mask on.

“You know Jay, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you weren’t happy to see me,” Dick says playfully.

Jason grits his teeth. “Well you don’ know better and don’t fuckin’ call me that.”

“Interesting,” Dick murmurs, leaning back in his seat. “You asked for help, I’m here to help.”

“No,” Jason shoots back, “I asked Barbie for help. You’re not Barbara.”

“Babs is busy with her own thing, I wasn’t. Besides, all this info is going back to her anyway, I’m just the messenger.” You were right, Dick’s grin is too wide, especially when it’s forced. Jason snorts.

“You just wanted a chance to be nosy,” Jason scoffs.

“Can you blame me?” Dick doesn’t try and deny it. “Look what you’ve built for yourself Littlewing–” Jason tries not to flinch “–you’ve got a life outside of the capes, just for yourself.”

Jason rolls his eyes at the way Dick honest to god starts to tear up. “Contrary to what B believes, I do have hobbies outside of killing people.”

“And friends,” Dick’s quick to add. “One of them in particular was very protective–”

“People are dead,” Jason interrupts, unwilling to let Dick’s fishing expedition go any further. Jason’s hands clench in his lap. “I asked for help because I haven’t been able to catch the motherfucker, not because I wanted a family reunion. So either be helpful or leave.”

“Fine, fine!” Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Give me what you’ve got and I’ll get it all back to Babs.”

Finally, finally the conversation moves past the unsubtle prying and back to the problem that has had Jason grinding his teeth again in the few hours of sleep he now manages. When it comes down to it, Dick is a reliable partner, focused and attentive on all the details and getting as stubbornly focused on catching this killer as Jason is. It’s... nice in a way, to finally have a conversation that doesn’t end in screaming or entreaties to come back home. Dick’s– Dick’s finally listening to Jason. Only interrupting to ask questions about the things actually coming out of Jason’s mouth and not just the things that Dick’s trying to hear from him. All because some sicko decided that some women shouldn’t be allowed to breathe anymore. It would be nice, if the reason why didn’t make the acid in Jason’s stomach churn. The chili dog ends up in the garbage.

There’s eyes on you. Following you. For at least the last week the hair on the back of your neck has been standing up at random intervals. The paranoia that’s been dogging your steps ever since the first girl was found dead has been keeping you on edge, pulling the worst things from your imagination into reality, but this time you know its true. Hanging around Jason – the Red Hood – has taught you to look up more often, to scan the skyline for a familiar silhouette. What you see perched on top of the building down the street is not familiar.

You slam the door to your apartment shut, locking it up before sliding down against it. Your breath comes in heavy pants. Maybe, maybe it was just one of the city’s vigilantes, you try and reason with yourself. But you know that the only one that haunts this side of town is Jason, and whoever it was on that rooftop was not Jason.

Heart in your throat, you creep through your apartment, a foreign land in the darkness. Back to the wall, you use the edge of one finger to pull the blinds back a smidge, just far enough you can peer through it without the appearance of anyone being home. The streetlights are just bright enough outside that you can make out the figure still lurking on the building opposite yours.

Your nightmares always go something like this. Chased, cornered. Alone with the monster scratching at your door. It’s long leans limbs are nothing like Jason’s, it’s too short to be his frame. It moves with a fluidity that is so alien from Jason’s bullheaded focuses your brain clangs with the wrongness of it.

Your hands shake as you fumble for your phone in your pocket. It doesn’t even finish ringing once before Jason picks up.

“Jason?” you whisper, unable to tear your eyes away from the figure.

“What’s wrong?” his voice is tinged with alarm.

“There’s– there’s someone watching my building. I swear m’not imagining it, there’s someone watching from the roof across the street. I don’t– I don’t know what to do.” You break down on the last word, terror clawing through your chest as how violently alone you are won’t let you ignore it any longer.

“I’m— huff – on the way. Stay on— stay on the line— huff – and lock the doors,” Jason pants down the line.

You murmur something, probably your agreement, and then sit on the cold wooden floor of your bedroom frozen in fear as you pray to whatever deity might be out there that Jason will get there in time. The figure starts to move just as snowflakes start to cut through the beam of the streetlight. It disappears just seconds before Jason’s recognizable form goes careening across the rooftop.

“There’s— pant— there’s no one here,” Jason puffs and your fingers curl tighter around the hard edges of the phone.

“But there was. Someone was just there, I’m not imagining it,” your voice wobbles with desperation as you try to keep what’s real and what’s just the paranoia straight in your mind.

“— I believe you,” he says, but you’ve already heard the hesitation there. You swallow thickly.

“Will you– will you stay with me for a bit?” You ask, hating how needy it comes out.

Later when you’re lying in bed, the warm steady beat of Jason’s heart under your cheek, you can’t shake the feeling that something about the stranger’s silhouette was familiar. Nothing you can quite place, but still it itches at the back of your mind as you trail delicate patterns into Jason’s skin.

There’s only 8 minutes until class starts and the coffee shop you’re in is a 10 minute walk away from the building so understandably you’re in a rush to grab your order and go. You spin around, burning liquid caffeine clenched gratefully in your fist, and promptly nearly spill it all down the front of the guy that’s standing way too close to you. His hand snaps up with a startling speed to steady you and disaster is narrowly avoided.

“Sorry!” You call out only you look up and make eye contact with Jason’s still smiling brother and freeze.

“No worries, it was my fault for being too close,” he tries to apologize charmingly. “I was hoping to run into you again,  I want to—”

“Sorry I’m running late, maybe another time,” you interrupt him and flee the coffee shop.

All through class you can’t help but to think over the encounter. That was weird right? Him showing up to a student cafe on campus, standing so close he was almost on top of you. It was definitely weird. Again something at the back of your brain itches but you can’t quite figure out why.

Jason’s waiting to walk you home from class, collar turned up against the cold and hands firmly tucked into his pockets. He neatly slides your bag over his shoulder and waits for you to finish mulling over whatever it is that has you so distracted.

“I thought I ran into your brother earlier,” you start, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Who, Dick?” He scoffs. “Probably not, he’s in Bludhaven.” You frown. That’s only two hours away. “Besides, he doesn’t come back to Gotham that regularly anymore. The other day was a special one off.”

Except it had to have been Dick because he’d tried to talk to you. Either Jason’s lying, or he doesn’t know his brother as well as he says he does. You hope he’s not lying.

Jason feels bad about lying. Well, not about Dick always being in Bludhaven – from the little he knows, Jason’s reasonably sure Dick’s been visiting to mentor Talia’s little demon regularly – but Dick definitely hadn’t been in Gotham today. In fact, Dick had blown off Jason’s offer to meet earlier while you were in class because of his own fact finding mission. It was probably just some other cheerful guy with a similar build and colouring. He covertly observes the roof across from your building for any hint of Nightwing blue when he double checks your locks. It doesn’t hurt to be cautious.

Dick’s early to the rendezvous point, a pointedly 3 blocks east of your apartment building and just on the edge of the territory Jason has greedily claimed as his own. The wind’s not so bad tonight, snowfall remaining unlikely on the forecast when Jason had checked it earlier. That doesn’t stop Jason from shivering in his steel toed boots as the temperatures trend towards freezing.

“Oracle hasn’t found anything you hadn’t discovered already,” Dick tells him upfront. “It’s not that he’s particularly tech savvy, just lucky.” Jason swears.

“Asking for help was meant to, you know, get help,” he snarls. “I’ve got nothing to show but you sticking your nose into my life.”

“Show to who?” Dick asks. Jason chooses to ignore the question.

“At this rate another girl’s gonna get taken tomorrow night and you know we won’t find her alive,” he reminds Dick.

“That’s one thing I did notice. All the girls – he’s got a type, a very specific one. Hair, eyes, ethnicity, all of it the same. And I couldn’t help noticing at the coffee shop that they’re all a match for your friend.” Dick levels his gaze at Jason, impassive behind the domino.

“I can want my friend safe and still want justice for the others too,” Jason says, hurt at the accusation he’s worried is going unsaid.

“That’s not what I— look, does she know about this,” Dick gestures to Jason’s Red Hood getup.

“Might,” Jason hedges, unsure of where this is going.

“So she matches the victim profile and she knows enough to trust you to protect her,” Dick heaves out a sigh. “I don’t think we’ve got much choice, our usual methods just aren’t turning anything up.”

“You want to use her as bait,” Jason says, the flat affect of his voice modulator turning his words into a blade. Dick flinches but nods. “You said “at the coffee shop”. You didn’t meet her at the coffee shop you met her in the middle of the food court.”

“I guess I misspoke,” Dick shrugs. “Coffee shop, food court, close enough.”

Jason may not have lived under the same roof as Dick for years but still he can tell when Dick is lying. He’s lying right now.

“She thought she saw you earlier today. Was kinda spooked about it actually,” Jason takes a menacing step towards Dick. “You wouldn’t do that Dickie, would you? Lie to me about being somewhere else so you could go and stalk my— my friend. You wouldn’t be lying to my face right now would you?” There’s a growl to Jason’s voice and boots are making heavy, even thuds as he prowls closer. Dick backs away.

“She called you Jay—” he starts but Jason cuts him off.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT SHE CALLED ME!” He roars. “YOU LIED TO ME DICK!” Jason is very, very glad he’s wearing the full helmet tonight. Tears don’t show through layers of plastic and metal. “You lied, Dick, and I believed you. I believed you over her and I should have known from the start because you and B always do this. You try to manage me. I’m done. Tell Barbie to figure out another messenger because you’re not welcome here anymore.”

Jason turns and runs for the edge of the building. The grapple catches and he feels the pull of it heavy in his shoulder. Whatever Dick shouts after him gets lost in the wind.

part 13

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Beyond | Terry McGinnis x Batsis with Batman

Synopsis:  Bruce Wayne has retired as Batman leaving Gotham in the hands of the Police, and young heroes to keep her safe, but with Batman gone criminals are no longer scared, and crime rate has increased. Just as Bruce has lost all hope, Terry McGinnis arrives at the scene.

NOTE: I refuse to believe that the epilogue of Justice League Unlimited exists. I prefer Terry McGinnis being simply Terry McGinnis and NOT Bruce Wayne’s son. That epilogue ruined everything about Batman Beyond. You don’t have to be a Wayne to be Batman! Bruce became Batman because it was his choice and he had a purpose, it has nothing to do with blood. So, for this story, Terry is NOT blood-related to the Waynes in any way.

It has been five years since he wore the cowl. Five years after he had that one night he thought he was dead with the last thing he would see was a low-life scum and not his family. His beautiful wife and his amazing daughter. Five years since he had to resort to using a gun to strike fear into his enemies. No more. Never again. Since then he hung the cowl, closed the cave, and finally accepted his wife’s gift – a watch. A gift given for retirement. Since then he would wear that watch all the time to remind him of why he needed to stop being Batman.

Time was always the enemy. With time comes age, and with age are illnesses and the deterioration of the body.

Many of his comrades have gone – Leslie has died long before, Jim Gordon as well, due to a heart attack while in his office), Alfred has died in the most tragic death doing one last heroic thing for his family: saving Valerie from a gun-fire.

Valerie was there to witness everything and see the life leave Alfred’s eyes as he succumbed to his injuries. They found her on the ground, behind the vehicle they used for cover, holding her grandfather’s body and refusing to let go.

Worse of all, at that same year, she almost lost her father too because he was too damn stubborn to admit that he was no longer in his prime. That he was now an old man who depends on his technology to support his aging body and all the ailments he keeps from his wife (unsuccessfully keeping from his wife, he’s just too damn stubborn to admit it).

“What’s it going to take for you to understand that enough is enough, Bruce?” Vivian said as she sat beside her husband who laid in his hospital bed. Tears falling from her eyes at the scare they got.

Their family gathered in the room — Damian–who was his doctor–listening to him with a disappointed look, then there were Tim, Jason, Dick, and Cassandra. And Valerie. Sweet Valerie, who just witnessed her grandfather die in her arms, was standing by her father’s side with an unreadable look on her face.

“Viv,” Bruce spoke. He reached out to his wife and took her hand. “My love,” he called for her again when she wouldn't look at him, this time she turned to meet his tearful eyes. “You can take out the watch.”

“Bruce, are you sure?” Tim asked.

“I’m sure… it’s time. It’s long overdue,” Bruce turned to his daughter and reached out for her. With his arm open, Valerie joined her father and laid beside him so she could hold him tight. “I should have retired the moment you were born. I am so sorry for missing out on so many things… and for scaring you like that.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” Valerie whispered.

“It’s official,” Dick began. “The Batman’s done.”

As soon as he was discharged, he went back to the cave to put away his latest suit, lining it up with the rest. From his very first one, to the latest ones lined with kevlar and a heavy cape for gliding, a transmitter cowl; then to the Robins’ uniforms from Dick and Jason’s original uniforms, to Tim’s, Stephanie and Damian’s. Then there was Nightwing’s line up, along with Red Hood’s, Red Robin, Orphan, Batgirl, Spoiler, the Phoenix… and the red cowl and cloak that gained the name Red Bat by Gotham’s broadcasting network during their short-lived reign over Gotham. 

He closed it all, shutting down the power, locking away the life he’s lived and turning the fortress to a museum that no one can ever see or know.

He spent most of his time with his family and running Wayne Enterprises with his wife who was now the Head of the Wayne Foundation. Vivian still works part-time at the university and does research, but most of her work is now with the Wayne Foundation, wanting to help more people. She joked that teaching was her calling and passion job, and philanthropy was her retirement job. 

The time he spends with his daughter were ones he cherished. In the morning, the three of them would wake to start on their chores. While Vivian would start on breakfast, the two of them would be at the garden, tending to the flowers at Helena’s grave. Then he would drive her to school – he was insistent in doing so – before going to work. When at home they would dine as a family and spend time as a family.

But whenever he would hear or see the news about the rising crime rates in Gotham, Bruce couldn’t help but feel defeated. He has lost in this war. In the war he has waged against crime in Gotham. And when he would be somber, Vivian and Valerie would try to get his mind off of it or talk to him. 

This was the truth of Gotham, he would tell himself and them. No matter how much I fight, Batman cannot change its people. The people themselves refuse, and those who do, know better than to stay here. Gotham is a test through fire. Gotham was and is purgatory. 

~*~

Vivian was on her way home, driving on the bridge when he spoke to her a couple of minutes ago, and there was a group of punks who call themselves the Jokerz terrorizing a kid who crashed at his gate. Checking at his phone, he monitored the GPS icons of his wife and daughter to see where they were. Vivian was almost to the mainland, Valerie was just about to leave Gotham University.

He wasn’t going to let them walk into this, nor was he going to let them walk into his property too… and there was the kid.

Walking down the path that leads to the gate, Bruce made the sound of his cane prominent in each step he took, informing the gargoyle that guarded the manor of his arrival and to stand guard but not engage. Greg the Gargoyle has made himself a permanent guard of the manor ever since he’s reached a certain age, vowing to protect the state and its masters. 

“Let’s carve a smile on this punk!” One of the Jokerz called out to his group.

Another tap.

Gregory opened the gates of the manor, startling the teenagers and the punks.

As they wondered in fear, Bruce made himself known: “Leave him alone. Get off my property. You’re trespassing!”

“Stand back, old man!” The teenager got up and tried to cover him.

A young man with a good heart, he thought. 

“Aw, is that right?” One of the Jokerz taunted him.

“It’s okay, old man, I got this,” said the teenager.

Bruce walked past him to face the group and one of them, the one who wore the Joker mask, grabbed him by his shirt. 

“Who do you think you are, old man? We’re the Jokerz!”

Bruce smirked. “Sure you are.” 

When Joker-face tried to punch him, Bruce easily evaded and whacked him thrice with his cane until he was knocked down to the ground. Then the others engaged, trying to stab him with knives and hit him with bats but they were no match for him. He was Batman after all. An easy fight, and he was glad to see that he still got it –

Pain surged through his body.

His heart.

Clutching his chest, Bruce fell to the ground as he had another heart attack. No, he can’t. He needs to make sure his girls get home safe. That Vivian and Val were safe. 

He wasn’t sure what happened but the next he saw was the teenage boy running to his side, the sight of Valerie appearing out of thin air and running to his side.

“Dad! Dad!” She skidded on the ground.

“Val,” he grasped her hand.

Valerie placed a hand on his heart and tried to help him. “Dad, please don’t. Please, stay with me. Please,” she muttered as she helped heal him.

I’m not going anywhere, Val, he thought. Not unil I know you’re safe.

~*~

“Go out now and you might find yourself in their trap,” the girl with black hair told him. “Stay. Wait for a couple of hours until you are bore out of your mind, then wait for another hour, then and only then do you leave. Better yet, stay and leave in the morning. There’s no bus here, so I can drive you to Gotham Central.” 

He can’t stay the night but he’ll wait. She does have a point. As he waited, Terry started to roam around the manor to figure out who these people are, and then he saw the large portrait in the study. How could he not realize sooner?!

That girl was Valerie Wayne! The only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor-Wayne.

Then that means the old man was Bruce Wayne!

How the hell did he find himself crashing to the gates of Wayne Manor?

As he pondered about the luck he had to be there – he was sure Wayne was going to make him pay for the dented gate – he heard noise coming from the clock. 

A bat was stuck inside the clock.

~*~

She should have kept an eye on Terry McGinnis. After getting her father to bed, Valerie asked Terry to stay for a bit and wait for the coast to be clear before leaving. Crap, she shouldn’t have had him in their home in the first place. But she can’t just let him go to the Jokerz trap – she even informed her mother about the group of punks driving motorcycles that might cross her path heading to Wayne Manor.

Or maybe she should have locked him in the living room until she returned. But that’s not good manners – as her grandfather would say, or her mother, or Dick and Tim. So, she trusted him that he would stay put. But no.

For some strange luck that was not on their side, Terry fucking McGinnis found the clock and walked inside the Cave and found the biggest secret that Gotham hides.

The identity of Batman.

“Geez, no wonder he could fight,” Terry mused, but before he could explore some more, a strong gust of wind pushed him away from the line up of uniforms and was pinned to the walls of the cave. This was no ordinary wind.

And he was right to suspect because from the shadows Valerie Wayne appeared with eyes glowing bright blue, her hand stretched out with her palm facing his direction, and her black hair flying around with the gusts of wind.

“No one ever taught you not to snoop around?” Valerie mused.

“You’re a — you’re a meta-human?” Terry gasped.

“Close enough,” she smirked. “You know, I can’t let you out of this place with you knowing about all of this.”

“Valerie!” Bruce’s voice boomed in the cave.

The sound of her father’s voice had her release Terry from the winds that pinned him to the wall and fall to the ground with a harsh thud.

“Oops,” she muttered.

She did that on purpose.

Bruce walked up to him with a nasty glare and sneered: “Get out!”

 ~*~

Vivian was not expecting to see her husband and daughter in the Batcave after Bruce closed it for good. After receiving the alert on her phone from Bruce’s heart monitor, she sped up in her drive and used a spell to warp realities to have her car jump from the long winding road to the grounds of Wayne Manor. When she got home, she looked around for Bruce, scared to death if something have happened to him and she wasn’t there. 

And there was.

If there wasn’t he wouldn’t be in the Cave. 

“Bruce!” Vivian ran down the stairs.

“Viv,” Bruce greeted her and before he could ask how she was she tackled him to an embrace.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Vivian turned to her daughter and reached for her hand.

“Someone saw the Cave,” Valerie spoke.

“What?” 

“The Jokerz chased a kid all the way to the Estate. I had a minor episode after I…” Bruce trailed off.

“After you what?” Vivian narrowed her gaze at him.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Valerie scoffed. “Really? If it was nothing, I wouldn’t have had to jump from GU to here, Dad. What if that kid was some punk too?”

“But he wasn’t.”

It was a losing battle. She knew it, and Valerie knew when to just go with what her father says: “He helped me get Dad inside the manor. I told him to stay for a while and wait until we’re sure the Jokerz were gone and I left him for a bit. And he found the clock and the Cave. It’s my fault.”

“Is it something that we should worry about? I can contact Damian,” said Vivian.

“Damian took an oath, Vivian,” Bruce reminded her.

“Then Tim.”

He said nothing on the matter. As of now, Tim was part of Wayne Enterprises’ Board of Directors and is working as the Vice President on Wayne Technologies. Tim can easily track down the boy, Terry McGinnis, and keep an eye on him but Bruce didn’t want to disturb him for this. Besides, while he remains to be Red Robin in certain occasions, Tim has his own life now, a family with Bernard to take care of.

Seeing her father’s lack of response, Valerie said, “I’ll tell them in the group chat. They should know considering Batman has a support system that is the same size and demographic as the Wayne family anyway.”

Before Bruce could protest, Valerie had already hit send and her phone was getting chat notifications nonstop.

“Come on, let’s head upstairs,” Vivian took her husband’s arm and led him back. When she sensed her daughter’s missing footsteps, she turned back and saw Valerie looking at the Red Bat costume on the case. “Val.”

Valerie turned away from the uniforms and ran to join her parents.

~*~

Warren McGinnis was murdered in his home.

The name McGinnis caught Valerie’s attention when Bunny mentioned it during their meet-up lunch dates between Gotham University and Gotham Academy (since Valerie graduated three years early, she’s been going to Gotham University, taking engineering and criminology classes, wanting to wait for Bunny before they apply for Yale, just like their parents). As soon as she got home, she told her father about the news and just as she expected he said nothing about it. 

“It has something to do with Powers,” Valerie said.

“What makes you say that?” Damian asked whilst continuing his work in the kitchen, making dinner for everyone in the manor. 

“Warren McGinnis was is part of Powers’ team in Powers’ Tech. I remember him in Wayne Tower with Derek Powers when they’re proposing a partnership with Wayne Tech. Tim there was something bad about Powers and didn’t budge.”

“And the fact Father would kill him if he agrees to it. Powers is dirty. His whole company is,” Damian placed a small plate of food for Valerie to taste and keep her occupied while they waited for their mother to come home and for Bruce to come back from his walk with Ace II.  “You still need to work on your detective skills, little sister.”

“I’m working on it,” Valerie said as she ate. “But Damian, someone has to stop him.”

“Who?”

“Powers. You know that he rose to power as soon as Batman disappeared. He took advantage of the fact that the crime rate is rising and the system is total shit – no offense to Barbs.”

“Again. Evidence. I think you’re being too reliant on your magic, Val. You need to work on finding the connections that would lead to the truth. Magic can’t solve everything.”

Valerie frowned as the memory of that moment she held her grandfather’s body, hoping her magic would save him. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Damian sighed and messed with her hair. “Stop thinking about this, Val. It’s not your job. Let Red Robin or Nightwing do it.”

Valerie scoffed. “Nightwing is too busy leading the Titans since the Justice League retired. Red Robin is there with him too. Batwoman’s gone, along with Oracle… Cassandra’s traveling and doing her work wherever she goes. Steph has moved on too. And who knows when Jason’s coming home.”

Damian frowned. “Let them handle it. The best you can do is give them a lead with this theory of yours.”

“Be a bystander, you mean. I find it hypocritical that Dad let you do the hero thing and not me.”

“It wasn’t the life we chose, Val. Dick and Jason were given a chance to have a new life with it. Cassandra and I? We were born into it. We had no choice… it seems it was just Tim who really understood the job from the very beginning,” Damian sat beside his sister and took a piece of the food he made. “The war we were fighting then… to have to wear that mask is not something a kid your age should be doing, I understand that now. Trust me, I was throwing a tantrum like you when I was your age and when I was younger. The life you have now is the one we all worked hard fighting for. We want you to live without ever having to go through what we did.”

“I know.”

“You sure? Looks like you don’t.”

Valerie slumped on her brother’s shoulder and sighed. “I just… I have all of this power, and you guys practically taught me how to fight —”

“For self-defense, Gotham is not a walk in the park.”

“—and you expect me to just watch as Gotham go down like this… all your hard work gone. It’s like you just gave up.”

Damian sighed.

“You can’t save people from themselves, Val,” the sound of their father’s voice had Valerie sit up. Bruce entered the kitchen without making a sound – even when he had a cane – and looked at her with solemnity. “My parents. Your grandparents told me to never give up on Gotham, and I didn’t. I fought all my life until I ended up like this. The truth is you can’t save Gotham from itself. The people here refuse to change. They like how the system is now. And for those who the Batman has inspired and changed, they knew better than to stay here.

“Gotham is a purgatory, and the best way to start again is by leaving it. And the reason why we don’t ever leave… is because we live at that boundary between purgatory and paradise. We get the chance to have luxury but also seeing the suffering of those from afar. Reminding us of human nature.”

“Father,” Damian warned him.

“Your brother is right. The life you have now is the one we wish for all to have, and you know damn well why you can’t wear the cowl. Not after that stunt you pulled.”

Valerie winced and looked away.

“Alright, that’s enough. You made your point,” Damian stood and hid Valerie from their father’s gaze.

Bruce Wayne is a good and loving father, but he can also be cruel with his words. Especially when he wants to prove a point. 

“If you have anything on Powers, hand it over to the Commissioner,” Bruce told her. “But that’s it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Valerie muttered. Her response startled Bruce and he started to regret his harsh words to her. But before he could apologize, Valerie got up from her seat and said she was going out for a walk, then exited the kitchen through the backdoor and left. But she didn’t leave exactly, she stayed by the side of the kitchen and listened to what they were going to say.

Damian sighed. “Just as we thought you’d ease it with the harsh words when you had Val. She’s not like the rest of us who can brush it off when you’re being a total asshold. She’s…”

Valerie knew that. She always felt like there was a huge difference between her and her family because they were in the family business and she was…

She was the ideal they have.

She loves them but there are times when she feels so alone.

Bruce narrowed his gaze at his son. “Your sister is strong and has a strong and kind heart, and full of hope.”

“Then why crush that hope with the things you say?”

“Because being too hopeful can also bring danger to her. It would lead to naivety or, worse, create an idealist or an extremist. It’s good that she understands how the world is. She’s stubborn too. Too damn stubborn…”

Damian watched as his father sat down on the seat and sighed deeply. “She still won’t go to Yale?”

“She refuses until Bunny graduates. But I don’t think that’s just the reason why.”

“Falcone and Maroni.”

The leader of the gangs who were partially involved in the death of Alfred Pennyworth.

Bruce nodded.

Valerie had enough eavesdropping and left. Joining her was Ace II and Andromeda — her pet dog — and they did not return until her mother came to get her at Alfred’s grave.

 ~*~

Terry McGinnis had guts. She’ll give him that.

Days after him calling out in their gate comms, asking to see her father, and then claiming that Powers had something to do with his father’s death and the nerve gas he’s been making with Kaznia, she came home to the sight of Ace and Andromeda tied to the gate with one line. She was about to release them when a batarang shot out and cut it. Valerie looked up and saw her father’s figure standing by the window telling her to get inside immediately.

Terry McGinnis has stolen the Batman suit.

“I’ll go after him,” Valerie told her father.

“No,” Bruce flatout said.

“But Dad!”

“I said, no,” Bruce turned away from her and turned on the Batcomputer. The old thing hasn’t been used for a long time now. “McGinnis, can you hear me?”

“Whose that?” Terry’s voice sounded in the speakers of the computer.

“It’s Wayne.”

“How are you –”

“There’s a radio receiver in your cowl. Now, you need to listen to me, McGinnis. I want that suit back and I want it back now.”

Right, a teenager is going to do what he tells them to.

“Now is not a good time.”

“THAT SUIT IS NOT YOURS! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!” Bruce exclaimed.

It was the first time Valerie ever heard him raise his voice outside of the training mat, and it made her flinch.

“Somebody had to do something. You weren’t going to,” said Terry.”

“I’m warning you.”

Through the camera of the suit they could see Terry running from the guards that were chasing him.

“The suit works better even better than I thought it would.”

Valerie smirked at his comment. Walking up to her father’s side, she watched closely at the feed they were getting. “I wouldn’t taunt him, McGinnis. The old man’s not as patient as he used to be.”

Bruce turned to his daughter with a frown and she just shrugged.

Terry chuckled. “Good to hear from you again, Princess.”

“This is for final warning,” Bruce said, but Valerie was sure that was directed at both of them. “This is your last chance. Better take it.”

“No thanks, I’m having too much fun.”

“Fun, huh?”

Bruce pulled up the protective casing of a button and pushed it. Activating whatever it was he programmed in the suit. In the middle of his fight, Terry’s body was paralyzed with Bruce shutting down the suit.

“Dad,” Valerie said as she saw Terry get beaten up and the teenager asking for help. Begging Bruce to release the system override. When he still refuses to move, Valerie was about to push the button to save him but her father grabbed her wrist, muted the comms, and said to her: “This is the first lesson. For the both of you.”

“He's going to die!”

“Until you understand what's at stake. The risks. You can never go out there.”

Valerie glared at her father. “I know perfectly well what's at stake. I saw it, didn't I?”

“I know. But he doesn't.”

They heard the gun cock. Bruce looked at his daughter and released her hand. Valerie pushed the button and unmuted their comms. 

“McGinnis, I gave you a break. Now bring that suit back,” said Bruce.

“Love too, but I got these guards all over me,” said Terry.

“There's a broom closet up against that wall. Can you get to it?”

“A broom closet?”

“Do it!”

Terry ran to the door and escaped inside the room. “Now, what? I’m sitting ducks –”

Bruce got up from the seat. “Your turn,” he said to his daughter. “Hurry, he needs your help, Penny.”

“McGinnis,” Valerie took the seat before the Batcomputer. “I’ll open a door for you at the far end of the wall.”

“What door? There’s no door there.”

Opening the map of Powers’ building, Valerie focused at the location where Terry was and focused on the image of the prints and creating a path for him. It was the first time ever used her magic at a long distance. Her magic, as her mother would call it, was mostly technological and reality bending magic. She is able to understand anything with a single touch, can recreate its form by understanding its components. She believes it was her interest in technology and engineering that influenced her magic’s outlet. Her mother had the forces of nature, fire, and life. She had technology and reality.

“Walk past it,” Valerie told Terry.

“What?!”

“Do it!” 

“If I walk into a wall…” Terry ran and instead of slamming into a wall, he went past it and was at the other side. “How did you?”

“Now, bring back the suit,” Bruce said at the comms. “If you don’t, I’ll shutdown the suit again. This time, for good.”

“I read up on you, Mr. Wayne. How you lost your folks,” Terry began. “The guy who murdered my dad is in that transport, this is my one chance to nail him.”

Maybe that was what got him. Dick did tell her that Bruce’s way to keep kids like them from joining the wrong crowd was to put them in a colorful costume, spandex, make them fight crime, and find closure. 

“The hover pad is at the Northeast Sector,” Bruce gave in. “After that you come back with the suit.”

Terry chuckled. “You got it,” he said and ran to chase the chopper about to leave with the man he was after. Turning the comms on mute for a moment, Bruce told his daughter. Whether it’s a success or not, you open a portal and you bring him back here when you think he’s in danger. Understood?” He said to Valerie.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bruce frowned. “Val…” he began.

“We can talk about it later, we’re still on a mission… and I still need your help,” she turned back on the comms. “Making sure this idiot comes back alive. I don’t want to have to get a corpse out of that suit and bury it somewhere in the estate where the cops won’t find it.”

“Don’t worry, Princess, this idiot isn’t planning on dying in this suit,” Terry spoke.

“Call me that again and I will shut that suit, McGinnis.”

Bruce smirked and leaned on the computer, watching as his daughter and this young man reminded him how it was before. 

Terry was able to reach the chopper before it could be airborne but it meant he had to find a way to get in while keeping a strong hold while using one of the gadgets in the suit to open it. Inside, he was about to attach the pilots but when he got to the front, no one was there. Who was manning this flight? The question was answered when the man who murdered his father appeared.

Their fight led to them sending the craft crashing to the water, but as soon as the helicopter touched the surface of the water, Terry felt an arm grab him and pull him through something, and one moment he was in a helicopter about to crash into water, the next he was at the floor of the Batcave. 

“What the –” Mr. Fixx began, utterly confused, to find a cave instead of the seafloor. Before he could see more —

WHACK!

Mr. Fixx fell to the ground with a sure concussion after getting hit with a staff. Looking up, Terry found the last person he expected to be wielding it, he was thinking it was Bruce Wayne but it seems everyone in the Wayne family knows how to fight.

“Thanks –” Terry froze when the staff was pointed at his face and at its very end, he saw the high-voltage taser that was threatening to electrocute him.

Valerie smirked. “You’ve had your fun. Now, the suit.”

“And I thought we were getting along well.”

“Wanna join him in the Dreaming?” 

“The what — you know what, fine.” Terry got up and removed the suit, leaving him in his underwear and shirt. “Mind if I borrow some clothes?”

Valerie took the suit and handed it to her father. “I can lend you some of my brothers’ old clothes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She turned off the taser from the staff and with a push of a button, the thing shrunk to the size of a baton. The last Valerie heard as she went up to the clock was her father telling Terry: “I’ll call in Red Robin and have him take this one to the GCPD. You don’t need to worry about the GCPD making under the table deals. A contact of ours will make sure that does not happen. And Valerie will open a portal for you to head home.” 

And that was it.

~*~

Mary McGinnis’ home was a lovely and modest place. After knocking on the woman’s door, the Wayne family was welcomed inside by the woman and excused herself to wake her son. Alone in the living room, Valerie helped her father to sit down, even when could do it on his own, and Vivian sat beside Bruce.

“I’ll do the talking,” said Bruce.

Vivian chuckled. “Worried we might embarrass you in front of your new friend?”

Valerie smirked at her father, and Bruce did not appreciate their teasing.

When Mary said that Terry will be out in a bit, she offered the Waynes some coffee and came back with a tray of black coffee with sugar and milk. 

“How old is Valerie?” Mary asked them.

“I’m eighteen,” Valerie answered.

“A few years older than Terry! I guess this is your last year at Gotham Academy, then?”

Seeing how awkward the question was for her, Vivian and Bruce answered it for their daughter. “Valerie graduated three years early from Gotham Academy, she’s now getting a degree in engineering at Gotham University,” said Vivian.

“Is that right? You must be a genius then!”

“After that, she’ll be heading to Yale,” Bruce said, mostly a reminder for his daughter who has been putting off the chance to go to an IV League university.

“I will, just as Bunny graduates,” Valerie muttered.

As they waited, Bruce then told Mary a proposition he had for Terry, one that he and Vivian agreed would be “good” for him. Their small talk got cut short when Terry finally got out of his room.

“Terence, sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Bruce said in a way that was not how Terry knew him to be.

“It’s okay,” Terry shrugged. “You’re Professor Vivian Pryor.”

Vivian got up and shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Terrence. Bruce and Val has told me so much about you.”

For a moment, Terry was sure her brown eyes glowed gold for a second there.

“You never told me you knew the Waynes,” said his mother.

“Well, actually…”

“Why, I owe this boy my life. He defended me and my daughter from a bunch of hooligans once,” said Bruce. 

The sight of Valerie raising a brow and getting pinched by her mother almost made Terry laugh.

Bruce continued. “I tried to repay him but he absolutely refused.”

“Mr. Wayne wants to offer you a job,” said Mary.

“I find that in my old age, I can use a part-time assistant. With my wife working more at the Wayne Foundation, and my daughter at university –”

What?! Terry turned to Valerie in disbelief. But she looks like to be the same age as him!

“–I could use a part-time assistant. A goffer. Go-for-this, go-for-that. An ally as it were. Would you be interested?”

“Of course, he would!” said Mary. “It would be wonderful to work for someone as famous as Mr. Wayne.”

“Does it include driving the Princess to her classes?” Terry joked.

Valerie glared at him and his mother chastised him for it.

“I drive on my own,” said Valerie.

“You’re my part-time assistant. And Val doesn’t like having one. She never liked it whenever we would hand her to a babysitter then,” Bruce said, to ease the tension.

“Alright. Yeah, I’d take it,” said Terry.

“I warn you, I can be a difficult task master,” Bruce got up. “I expect nothing short but excellence from all who work from me.”

Vivian got up as well and added, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take it too far. You’re still young and have a lot to learn.”

“I think I can handle it,” said Terry.

“Very good, Mr. McGinnis,” Bruce shook his hand. “Welcome to our world.”

~ Extra Ending ~

The knock on her bedroom door pulled Valerie from her work. Turning from her desk, she saw her father standing by the doorframe, like a vampire waiting for her to let him in. And like a vampire, indeed, he only stepped in when she gestured for him to enter.

“Need something?” Valerie asked.

“Yes… I simply want to talk,” Bruce sat on her bed and patted on the space beside him so she can join him there. Valerie left her desk to join her father, and waited for what he has to say. “Ever since I retired from being Batman… I know that I’ve changed. I became cold and full of frustration, and I would lash it out on those around me, and sometimes it’s you who gets it. Your mother called me out for it many times and yet she still stays at my side. Patient and understanding… and you have been patient too, my dear, and because of that, I am so sorry.”

“I understand why you’re like that. For almost thirty-five years you were Batman, you had a mission. You had hope, and suddenly something like that happened… then all the work you did is just going back to the very start. What you said is true, though. It’s Gotham who won’t change, and it will always need a Batman.

“And I think with you having McGinnis here as Batman would warm you up a bit. You would smile more, like you always do before.”

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Bruce took his daughter by her cheek and had her look at him. “McGinnis has his strengths, and you have yours. Things changed between us since I retired but what hasn't changed is how much I love you, Val, and how proud I am to have you as my daughter… this is just your father turning to a senile old man.”

Valerie laughed and brought her father to an embrace. “I missed you, Da.”

Bruce smiled to hear the old way she would call him and held his daughter tight. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Releasing her from the embrace, Bruce placed a kiss on her forehead and got up, bring his daughter with him. “Your mother is in the kitchen making Jason’s favorite.”

“Jay’s coming home?”

“Only to visit, then he’s heading out again. Vivian mentioned that his leg was hurting more now, and he needs another session with her healing. But your mother has called Damian to come and check it out too, Jason’s just stubborn to turn to Damian for help sometimes.”

“Poor, Jay,” Valerie laughed.

“While we wait, mind helping me with the upgrades of the Cave, and to set up a training regimen for Terry? He has the will to be Batman, but he’s still not as good as a fighter.”

“Permission to kick his ass, Dad?”

Bruce laughed. “Granted, Penny.”

[purplecoffee13]

‘Paranoid’* - Thin Lines Pt 5

“All day long I think of things but nothing seems to satisfy…” - Paranoid by Black Sabbath

Summary: “You go on a date with someone new, but Harry doesn’t approve.”

Wc: 4K (more or less)

Tropes: rockstar!harry x opera singer!mc

Warnings: smut, exhibitionism, possessiveness, jealousy, harry being a dick, angst, fighting

A/N: hey, here is the new update for thin lines! Although you may think it from the way this part ends, it is NOT the end! We still have one part to go…🤭

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

You observed yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to try and stabilize the nerves you had been feeling all day. You were wearing a short black dress, paired with some Mary Jane's that you had walked on just enough for them not to kill your feet after five minutes anymore.

Jake had taken you to a beautiful fancy restaurant, and he had looked dashing in his suit. You were so incredibly nervous that before you even had the chance to order drinks you had excused yourself and fled to the bathroom.

This was your first official, proper date ever, and you had no idea how to act. Locking eyes with yourself one last time, you took a deep breath and mentally told yourself to get your fucking shit together before heading out there again.

By the time you came back, Jake had already ordered drinks for the two of you. An ice bucket containing a bottle of white wine stood next to the table, and you whispered a 'thank you' as he poured you some while you sat down across from him.

"Thanks." You said softly.

"No problem. The menu's are on their way." He responded, putting the wine bottle back in the bucket and taking a deep breath as he turned his full attention to you.

"So,"

"So..." You repeated your date, a soft chuckle falling from both of your lips. You were glad to not be the only one for whom this was quite intimidating.

"Start with the basic questions?" Jake proposed, an awkward golden retriever like smile on his face. You nodded in agreement, and waited as Jake thought of a question.

"Got any siblings?"

"Two step-brothers." You replied. Jake's brow quirks up. "But I hardly ever see them."

"Oh, does that not bother you?" He asked, genuine concern coating his words. You shrug.

"God no, if anything I'm thankful for it." You joked, but Jake didn't seem to find it funny.

"You wouldn't like a big family, then?"

Wow, wow, wow.

You stared at him, wide-eyed and unsure of what to say. How had this conversation steered towards planning a family so soon?

"I— I don't know. I've never had a very big family, it was always just me and my parents. When they divorced, and my mom re-married, it was a lot. I mean, going from being an only child to two step-brothers... it's a lot of noise. But I only lived with them for two years before moving to LA, so I don't know..." You tried to explain yourself, a bit weirded out about how invested Jake seemed to be in this. Harry would've found your joke funny; he doesn't take everything so seriously.

Wait, you shouldn't be thinking about Harry! You were on a date with Jake to forget about Harry, for God's sake. You needed to focus on your date.

And so you did, all throughout dinner you fixate your eyes on the man in front of you and tried to list all the reason why you could go on a second date with him. But unintentionally, you also compared him to Harry in every possible aspect.

Jake was sweet, but there was a lack of initiative. You found yourself disappointed at his replies, knowing Harry would've matched your wit, or understood what you were trying to say. By the time the main dish was being taken away, you were a bit tired. It felt like you have to put in a lot of effort into an attempt at a connection with this guy, especially when you knew how easy it was to have such a connection right off the bat.

You thought you must've been hallucinating when you saw a shadow that looked an awful lot like Harry pass by the window, and it made you realize how much he had been floating in your head. You weren't being fair to Jake, so you decided to round off this date as soon as possible.

"Want dessert?"

"No I'm okay, thank you." You smiled at him.

"Okay, then I'll get the check." He announced.

"We can split, if you want to." You offered, but Jake was quick to shake his head.

"Absolutely not, my treat." He assured you. Cheeks flushed, you nodded, and turned your head to look at the hallway where the restrooms are.

"D'you mind if I go to the restroom then, before we go? I see there's a bit of a line, so I could also go later if you prefer." You pointed to the hallway where about five women were waiting to enter the toilet, but Jake shrugged.

"Go, it's fine, I'll bring the car around. It's parked a bit further away so if I get it now you won't have to walk all the way there in those heels of yours." He suggested, to which you nodded. Grabbing your purse and jacket, you made your way over to the line of women. Surprisingly enough, you only had to wait a minute before it was your turn to go to the bathroom, and in two minutes you were on your way to the front door of the restaurant again.

That was until you were snatched away by someone's hand.

There was not even a possibility to shriek, as your mouth was covered in the first second that you were grabbed and pulled into a coat room. It was only when you got turned around, and spotted Harry's face in the vague light, that you weren't scared for your life anymore. You pulled his hand off your mouth, attempting to push him away from you.

"What the fuck are you doing?! Are you insane?!" You shout-whispered, heart still pounding. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears, but your anxiety from the sudden capture was slowly fading.

"I think that is a better fit question for me to ask you." He growled, pushing you against the wall between the racks full of coat hangers. You looked around you, hearing the mingling people in the restaurant, and realized that there was probably someone working here only a few feet away. "What the fuck are you doing having dinner with some random fucking guy?"

"I'm on a date!" You answered, frustrated with the fact that he was being so uptight about this.

"Yeah, and why the fuck would you do that?!" He hissed, knitted brows displaying the irritation that simultaneously showed in his tight grip on your waist. His hot breath fanning against your ear caused a totally different tension to arise in your stomach.

"Because I'm single, Harry!"

That shut him up. His face softened, and it was hard not to allow your heart to break into pieces as you witnessed that realization dawn on him. You didn't say anything as his eyes averted from you, digesting your words for a couple of seconds. And while the sound of glasses and utensils clinking against each other felt like a meteoric sting in your ears, there didn't seem to be a more deafening silence than this one.

What you didn't expect him to do was lean forward and kiss you, nor did you expect to go along with it so easily. However, at this point you shouldn't have been surprised; Harry turned your body and mind into jelly. He could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted, and it was bad, but it excited the hell out of you.

The sole thought of Harry being so jealous that he found the restaurant where you were having a date, and pulled you into the coat room to kiss you, had surged an army of butterflies to fly around in your stomach. Something, which you were aware, was absolutely not a proper and healthy reaction to a situation like this. But somehow... Harry made it hot.

And while you didn't like to admit it, you knew that the reason for that was because a part of you hoped that he would do this. You had secretly prayed in the back of your mind that he would come and get you once he realized you were something he could lose. And the fact that he was here now, kissing you and taking his hands all over your body made your cunt ache.

As if he was reading your mind—which you were quite sure at this point he was seriously capable of to some extent—he pulled up your dress and signaled for you to wrap your legs around his waist. He unbuttoned his pants, and you obeyed his wishes immediately, not wanting to waste any time. The fact that he was so incredibly hard only made you more enthusiastic. It was so wrong to have sex with Harry in the coat room while your date was outside waiting for you. Everything involving Harry was wrong... and that's what made it feel so fucking good.

"So wet for me, as always." He whispered into your ear as he entered you in one go. Your mouth hung open and a gasp left your lips, but you managed to keep quiet. The loudest sound was that of his dick thrusting into your wet pussy, with the two of you managing to stay at a surprisingly low volume.

You grabbed a handful of Harry's hair and closed your eyes as you lost yourself in the pleasure of him driving into you. The sound of footsteps and a coat hanger moving on a rack a few meters away had you squeezing Harry's shoulder. Instead of slowing down like a normal person would do, he took it as the perfect moment to pick up the speed and attach one of his fingers to your clit.

If it wasn't for the quickness of your hand that slapped over your own mouth, you would've moaned so loud that the entire restaurant probably would've heard. There was no time to glare at him, seeing as the pleasure of this devious act was getting all of your attention at the moment. Harry just smirked at you, leaning forward so his lips were next to your ear.

"If it were up to me, I'd have you take that pretty little hand off your mouth and let the entire restaurant hear how good I'm fucking you." He uttered, and you bit your lip to stifle any more moans that were threatening to escape your mouth at any moment.

"Let everyone hear how fucking desperate you are for me, and only me. Because you're mine." The question fell from his lips so confidently, that you didn't think to answer. Harry, displeased with your lack of words, accompanied his words with a hard thrust that had the tiniest whine fall from you lips. Like the devil he was, Harry continued the deep thrusts, edging you guys closer to getting caught. "Aren't you?"

Not daring to open your mouth fueled by the fear of being too loud and getting caught, you showed that you agreed with him by nodding profusely. You squeezed y(our eyes shut, a tear rolling down your cheek as you tried not to pass out from Harry's dick impaling your soaking wet pussy.

"You can say you're single all you want, but this sweet cunt belongs to me. Never had anything like me, and you never will. Can try as much as you want, but you'll always circle back to me." Harry grunted lowly, nails digging further into your skin. His thrusts became more aggressive, bringing you far closer to the edge in a record time.

"You're mine, like it or not."

You must have been sick in the head for that sentence to be the last straw. Because before you knew it, you were entirely falling apart around him. Harry had to put his lips on yours to muffle the sounds that kept coming out of your mouth as you cried and came around his cock. Your hands clamped onto his frame, trying to hold on in the way your legs couldn't.

The consistent clenching of your core around his cock had Harry follow soon after. He refrained himself from making too much noise by burying his head into your neck and softly biting on your skin as he filled you up with his seed. He stayed still inside of you, holding your legs up as you both took a few seconds to come down from your orgasm.

After slowly pulling his cock out of you, Harry put on your underwear quickly. You looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"Keep it inside of you." He ordered, causing you to frown at him.

"Harry, I'm on a d—" you tried to protest, but Harry quickly slapped his hand around your mouth again.

"I don't want to fucking hear it. It wasn't a question. Now, shut up, and do as I say."

Your widened eyes betrayed your underestimation of Harry. Of course, you wanted him to be jealous, but there was a part of you that still thought that he was only playing into the jealousy in a solely sexual sense. Nevertheless, you were too stunned to argue, so you nodded.

Adjusting your dress, you wiped your eyes to rid of the tear stains that had probably appeared in the last minutes. It was hard to stand, your head still misty from the spontaneous coat room sex.

"Go reject him." He demanded as he watched you put on your coat. You stopped in your tracks, your mouth falling open and your head shaking.

"I'm not going to reject him just because—"

"I don't think I posed that as a question either, love." His stern voice intercepted you once again. Your entire brain stopped and had to re-wire at the mention of that nickname, and you were sure it was the only reason you agreed.

With a heavy heart and a fluttering stomach you walked out of the restaurant, nearing Jake's car which was right in front of the door. It felt wrong to smile at him after what you had just done, and it dawned on you; you had become a horrible person. That self-made conclusion stirred you up so bad that you felt you could throw up, and it made you refuse to step into that car. Jake didn't deserve that.

He stepped out of the car, wanting to escort you to the passenger seat, but you stopped him. The grip on his arm made him turn back around, confusion written all over his face.

"I... Thank you so much for the lovely dinner, I really appreciate it. But—"

"But you're rejecting me." He filled in the blanks for you, leaving you speechless for a short second. You nodded slowly, and were grateful to see an empathic smile appearing on Jake's face. "Already? I haven't even given you a ride home yet."

You both chuckled at his joke, and as it died down, you tried to find his eyes. "I really did have a fun tonight, so thank you."

"You're welcome, I guess?" He stifled a laugh. "Are you sure you don't want me to give you a ride home?"

You shook your head. "No, I'm okay, really. I live very close anyway."

Jake nodded, and you said your goodbyes to him. You felt like a dickhead, and the fact that he had taken it so well had only made your guilt worse. It was horrible to watch him drive away, and Harry's approving voice from behind you didn't make you feel better either.

"Good girl, knew you'd listen."

You turned around, a look of pure thunder on your face as your eyes met Harry's. You stepped closer to him, pace picking up with every step.

"Get out of my face." You sneered, walking past him and down the street back towards your apartment. You heard Harry's footsteps start to follow you, and while that granted you a bit of satisfaction, it didn't fade the anger towards him or yourself in the slightest bit.

"Sweetheart—"

"Fuck you." You spat out, annoyed with the amount of impact of his nicknames for you had on you and your body.

"What the fuck happened? You were fine ten minutes ago." Harry called out, still walking a meter behind you. His words made you stop in your tracks, turning around to face him.

"What happened is that I realized what a horrible fucking person I've become, Harry! I just had sex with another guy while I was on a date with someone, that is so not okay!" You snapped. You took a deep breath, awaiting Harry's reaction, but he only stared at you. You couldn't quite make up anything specific from the manner in which he was observing you, but it for sure made you squirm.

“I’m not just some other guy.” He argued, distaste in the tone of his voice. He didn’t like the way it sounded so disposable.

“That doesn’t matter! It’s still a shitty thing to do… and I don’t think I can do this anymore.” You sighed, running your hands through your hair.

Silence took over the conversation. It was hard to look at Harry, you almost didn't dare to. There was a big part of you that never wanted this fling with him to end, but after tonight, you realized it was the only way to build up something new. You had gotten into this thing to distract yourself from the guy you were in love with, but now that you had finally seen the light and were far into the process of moving on, it seemed like it didn't serve much of a purpose anymore.

Besides, ever since that last hook-up, you weren't sure for how long it could stay casual before you'd start to develop feelings for this man. And that was something that absolutely couldn't happen.

“Harry, I am looking for something serious. You can’t give that to me, because you don’t want to, so I need to end this.” You explained, trying to search his gaze but he was making it impossible for you to look him in the eyes as he was furiously shaking his head.

“Why are you acting like you’re ending a relationship? We’re not in one.”

“Says the person who pushed me into a coat room because he was jealous.” You crossed your arms, seeing right through his bullshit and the dumb wall he’s putting up.

"Well… I don't like seeing you with other people." Was the only thing that fell from Harry's lips. His furrowed brows revealing the confusion that lingered in the delivery of the words as well. He wasn't sure of how to express what he was feeling, but the vagueness of the words he did communicate wasn't improving this situation at all.

“That’s very boyfriend material of you.” You tried to joke, a small smile forming on your lips. Harry’s mouth quirked up as well despite the frown on his face.

“I am not boyfriend material.” He chuckled.

"I know, it’s why I’m not even considering asking you to be something like that. I know you wouldn’t want to. " You smiled, and Harry nodded. His eyes were clearer now and it wasn’t as hard for him to look you in the eyes anymore.

“Alright.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. Like there was nothing left to do about it. That this was it, in the blink of an eye, and that it was all concluded with a simple shrug of the shoulders.

It made your heart sting, but upon feeling it you knew that you had made the right decision. If you hadn’t ended it now, that sting would’ve developed into full grown heart ache, and Harry was the wrong person to develop that for.

“Alright.” You repeated, looking for some sort of doubt in his eyes, but there seemed to be none. So you let it rest. Turning your attention to the street, you flagged down a cab.

“I’m going home, I’ll see you around?”

“I can take you home, you know, you don’t have to take a cab.” Harry offered, but you were quick to shake your head.

“No, that would be too boyfriend-like of you.” You grinned, and Harry sighed at your attempt at a joke. You opened the door of the cab.

“Fine. See you around.” He put his hands in his pockets, and walked towards the front of the cab. He tapped on the window where your taxi driver was sitting and handed him some money, too much for a single short cab ride. He told the taxi driver to keep it, as long as he’d bring you home safe. The driver, a kind man from what you’d gathered so far, thanked Harry and assured him that he would do his job.

Harry’s eyes flicked to the backseat, meeting yours one last time, and threw a wink at you. You felt inclined to roll your eyes, but you didn’t, the moment feeling a bit too sentimental to bash Harry for winking at you. It was the last time you were seeing him, being what you two were, and it made you kind of melancholic. Nevertheless, you reminded yourself it was for the better. Besides, you were sure you’d see him around…

Taglist: @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa @sassamanda77

[duchessonfire]

Savior Carl!AU re-read Part 2 Chapter 5

Follow-up of my re-read of Part 2 Chapter 4. If you're not interested and don't want to have your dashboard spammed, you can block the tags Duchess reads and Savior Carl AU reread.

Commentary for Part 2, Ch 5 below the cut (spoilers for part 2 ahead):

So funny thing, this chapter ("Claimed") was supposed to happen much earlier but I kept being sidetracked by Carl and Negan's slow burn. The Claimers were always going to be a part of the AU series, and they were one of the first things I added to my draft for part 2.

I will never tire of saying this: the way the series just handwaved away the trauma of Carl's near sexual assault is absolutely infuriating. Plenty of characters have had better exploration of their abuse and the lasting effect it had on them (Daryl and Carol, just off the top of my head, but also fucking Maggie who has been carrying her PTSD from the line-up for 5 seasons and one goddamn spin-off), but apparently we're all supposed to believe that Carl, who was anywhere between 13 and 16 in the series, just brushed off the time a man pinned him on his stomach and almost raped him in front of his family before watching his attacker get brutally gutted by his father? That doesn't deserve more than one passing mention by Michonne, which was more about the fact that Carl was giving the cold shoulder to Rick than about the trauma he just went through? Yeah? Okay...

My boy deserves better than this so I really wanted a story that focuses fully on the Claimers episode and explores the lasting consequences it will have on Carl. Also, I'm always a sucker for any opportunity to show what an absolute badass Savior!Carl is. Obviously he's 18, so he's not a brutal killing machine nor does he have the physical strength for it. But he's like Carol in the show (or at least before they absolutely butchered her personality and story arc in seasons 9+): shrewd and quick on his feet.

I also knew the Claimers would be the perfect characters to introduce a line-up. You can't write an apocalypse Negan story without a line-up, and I knew this would be a good opportunity to have Carl do the line-up with Negan, for him be on the side of the attackers for once, the hunter and not the prey. Back when I wrote part 1 in 2021, a lot of Cegan fics were variations of the line-up episode: some were about how Carl and Negan already knew each other from before and got reunited when Negan lines up Carl's group, other fics were about Carl working with Negan and being the one who put Rick and his ground on their knees in the clearing (I think I even read a few where Carl and Rick had been separated and this was how they reunited). This is to say that the line-up is a big and powerful moment in the Cegan fandom so I knew I had to include one. However, I also knew I didn't want Carl wielding Lucille in this one. Carl had already done that when he killed Shane and I really wanted to preserve the singularity of this moment, which would have been somewhat trivialized if Negan just started handing Carl his bat to kill people with left and right. So instead, I went with the screwdriver.

For the life of me, I can't remember where I got the screwdriver idea from. I definitely think it's from a TV series or movie of some kind, but I can't tell which. However, I can tell you that any time Carl is being a badass in the Savior!AU, it is one way or another inspired by Marvel's The Punisher, which I re-watched obsessively to get inspiration for Shane in the Savior!AU (and I am so excited that Frank Castle is back in Daredevil:Born again!!)

Okay, now that I'm done babbling, let's get into the chapter:

Carl dreams about the first night they spent in Alexandria, all of them huddled together in the living room of one house, not wanting to be split up, so suspicious they took turn to keep watch, every single door and window barricaded. They were all wary after Terminus, and this fairytale town seemed too good to be true, everyone a bit too quick to welcome them with open arms. They didn’t sleep, just dozed off in turn, jerking awake before they could start falling into dreams.

This flashback was directly taken from the series, when Rick & co arrive in Alexandria. Deanna gives them two houses but they all pile up in the one house that first night and sleep together in the living room while some of them keep watch. There's this delightful moment after, when Deanna comes to check on them in the morning and finds them all huddled together like a pack of feral dogs and is just awed.

It happened several times during the night, too many for Carl to count, but every time exactly the same. Shane would jerk awake and look at Lori, look at Carl, and look at the door. Again and again. Lori, Carl, the door. A holy trinity. Lori, Carl, the door.

Little moments like that are so important to me because, yes, Shane was a grade-A abusive asshole, but his abuse was rarely gratuitous. 90% of the time, Shane's actions were fuelled by his need to protect Carl and keep him alive. Shane only let go of Carl after Carl lost the eye and even that stemmed from Shane's honest belief that Carl would be safe inside the walls of Sanctuary, that Negan would feel indebted enough to Carl to keep him as a worker of some sort and keep him protected inside the factory. Shane weighed Carl's options and found Carl would never make it out in the wild with him, so he just left Carl on Negan's doorstep the way people will abandon a dog in front of a pet shelter. Like, yes, it's a shitty thing to do, but it's still better than leaving them in a dumpster.

Everyone is so focused on her, no one pays attention to him. He makes his way into an empty space toward the back and Carl thinks he is out of the woods when Negan suddenly looks up, and his gaze hones in on him like a missile. Carl’s breath catches in his throat. Negan inspects him for a second before smiling slyly, like they’re sharing a dirty secret. The motions of his gloved fingers on the bat turn intentional, long up and down strokes along the smooth handle that make Carl’s stomach squirm. He knows, Carl thinks with horror. Somehow, he knows. The tip of Negan’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, his eyes dark and seductive, before he shifts his attention away from Carl and back to Regina.

I love, love, LOVE those little moments when Carl and Negan look at each other and the rest of the world disappears. There are so many moments like that in the Savior!AU and, in most of them, they don't even talk to each other, just exchange a glance, and yet there's a whole conversation happening, a conversation that only they know, and everyone else either doesn't notice or is left confused by it. These two are so connected, they (almost) always know what the other is thinking.

“You were late,” Negan reprimands. “I’m sorry,” Carl apologizes immediately, hoping he’ll just get an earful and maybe thrown into a cell as punishment. Instead, Negan grins from ear to ear. “I bet. Long night? I take it you enjoyed my gift? Put it to good use? Maybe you need another bottle already?” Carl’s cheeks turn crimson and he keeps his eye down on the concrete floor, hoping that a show of deference will appease Negan, make him so bored he’ll put him aside in favor of another chewtoy. Of course, it’s never that easy. Things go from bad to worse when Negan presses the blunt head of the bat to Carl’s chest, forcing him to step backward until he hits the door. Carl grits his teeth and he drops his mask of subservience, fed up with being herded and cornered like a sheep for the second time in two days. His glare adds fuel to the fire of Negan’s amusement and the man leans forward, his hand pushing until the hard weight of Lucille presses painfully against Carl’s sternum, squeezing the breath out of his lungs.

One thing I completely forgot and that I'm now rediscovering during this re-read is how often Negan touches Carl with Lucille. I remembered all the times Negan used her to touch Carl's shoulder in part 1, but I forgot how much Negan uses the bat to push Carl around in part 2 (and later part 3). It goes without saying that the bat is phallic symbol 101 so do with that what you will.

"But guys like Pete?” Shane chuckles, and there is nothing nice about it. “They’re vicious. They’ll beat up their own kids just because it makes them feel like a man and then they’ll go around and pretend they’re God’s damn gifts to the world. So if he comes to you again, you run to me. You don’t fight, you don’t stop, you don’t go to Glenn, or Maggie, or Abraham. You come to me, alright? I’ll deal with that piece of shit for you. Got it?” Carl looks at where Ron and Sam are arguing next to their dad, a perfectly normal family. The kind his parents always wanted them to be, trying so hard to pretend that everything was fine even when they spent entire evenings locked in a screaming match, until his dad inevitably gave up and walked out the door for a drive, leaving Carl alone with a frustrated mother. Then, the next morning, they would all gather around the breakfast table and eat the awful pancakes that Lori made them, chuckling quietly when his dad would ask who wanted the last piece, more floury lumps and pieces of eggshells than cooked batter. That’s what families in the old world used to do. Pretend. Pretend to be happy and satisfied and normal. It wasn’t an act aimed at other people, to make them lower their guard and put down their weapons, like the Cannibals at Terminus pretended. It was an act designed for the family itself, to fake happiness and contentment and normalcy, in the hope it would eventually turn into a reality. But in Alexandria, just like at Terminus, Shane could sniff out the bullshit quicker than anyone else. “Got it,” Carl answers.

That flashback is very dear to me for several reasons. 1. It shows that Shane wasn't always delusional. In fact, he was often more clear-sighted than most people around. 2. It's a reminder that things in Alexandria weren't rosy before Shane & co showed up, and that they still aren't now that Negan is in charge (Spencer, your days are numbered, buddy). 3. It's another instance of Shane being fiercely protective of Carl. If the Claimers had happened on Shane's watch, you can bet that he would have pulled a Rick and chewed out Joe's jugular as well, no questions asked. 4. Even when Shane is protective, he's also deeply possessive, telling Carl to go to no one but him, because protecting Carl is his job, because Carl is his. This, of course, is especially important to understand why Carl is so deeply attracted to Negan. After his mom died, Carl's only source of parental love came from Shane, who was defined by possessiveness as much as protectiveness. For 4 long years, this is what Carl has come to understand as love and affection. And of course, because fate works nicely like that, it's exactly the same way that Negan expresses his own love and affection: through protectiveness and possessiveness.

“I feel bad for what happened to that Savior girl,” Eduardo says at one point, interrupting Davey’s frustrated monologue about Richie’s choice of music. Behind the wheel, Davey scoffs. “You ever met Lara Lee? She would have shanked her own mother for a fix.” Eduardo shakes his head. “Still, man. She didn’t deserve to die like this.” Then, more quietly to Carl, “My cousin got gangraped. Before. Some white college douchebags at a party spiked her drink, even filmed it. That video went through the whole school. It was sick.” In the rearview mirror, Davey rolls his eyes. “Your cousin said she was raped. Girls always say that when they get found out. They go to parties and get frisky with the guys, shaking their little ass at them and then they change their mind when people start calling them sluts. Am I right?” he asks Big Richie next to him. The Savior shrugs, uninterested in the whole thing. Eduardo frowns. “Negan’s right. Rape’s fucked up. We can’t call ourselves Saviors if we let it happen.” “Give me a fuckin’ break. Negan’s only saying that because he’s got all the pussy he wants. If the wives weren’t lining up to be his private buffet, he’d be singing a different tune, let me tell you that. Same goes for you, by the way,” Davey mutters, his eyes narrowing at Eduardo in the mirror. “You think we don’t know how you’ve fucked half the lady workers on the floor? Is that why you always take their side? So they’ll keep serving you their pussy on a silver platter?”

Can you tell that Creepey Davey is a creep even in part 2? Also, RIP Eduardo, you were a nice cinnamon roll and you didn't stand a chance in the apocalypse. Also RIP DJ, I still don't know why I killed you off when you lasted so long in the series (if I remember correctly, DJ is one of the few Saviors we see fully integrated in Alexandria after the war, like Laura).

Obviously I'm not going to quote the whole Claimers attack, but I'll just say that this was the first Shane hallucination and it will not be the last. In fact, I always planned on Shane haunting Carl, and the Claimers episode felt like a natural beginning for that. A friend said in the comments of this chapter that Shane has his claws in Carl even after being dead, but this time it was for good, because it's what allowed Carl to escape the Claimers. This is 100% right. To me, the Savior!AU is as much about Carl & Shane as it is about Cegan. Shane is not going anywhere, whether it's in flashbacks or adrenaline-fueled hallucinations.

In front of him, Dwight whistles, and a girl he recognizes as part of Regina’s team hands him a walkie. “It’s Dwight,” the Savior says. “No sign of them but we found the kid, about two miles north from B point.” A voice crackles on the other end, and Carl freezes when he recognizes Negan, his tone unusually flat through the speaker. “Is he dead?” Carl finally puts the bottle down, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt. The dirty fabric comes out red from Eduardo’s dried blood still on him. “No. He’s alive and well. Doesn’t even have a scratch on him,” Dwight answers with a shake of his head, slightly awed. No response comes back, and the both of them wait expectantly. After more seconds of worrying silence, the blond Savior frowns down at the walkie. “You copy?” Static buzzes. “Yeah,” Negan finally says. “Tell your team to keep looking but bring the kid home. I want to hear what happened.”

I debated a lot on how to make this scene happen. In the end, I went with complete silence on Negan's part because I felt like it would be the best way to subtly say a lot while saying nothing at all. This conversation on the walkie was of course a direct echo in the series to when Rick tells Negan that Carl is dead over the walkie. Negan's silence, his closed eyes and deep sigh, conveyed a lot while at the same time being extremely subtle. Same went for when Michonne read him Carl's letter over the walkie. JDM, the actor that you are <3

They drive in silence, and Carl doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he just does. He drifts off without even realizing it, his head tilted against the window, warmed by the comforting rays of the sun and lulled by the roaring engine of the car. He jerks awake when the door suddenly opens. It takes him a second to figure out what’s happening, to recognize the moans of the walkers on the fence, the smell of metal and rotting flesh of the parking lot. He’s home. A pair of legs topped by a familiar belt buckle stops right in front of him and Carl blinks back against the blinding sun, suddenly high in the sky when it seemed to be morning only a few minutes ago. When he can finally see clearly, he finds himself face to face with Negan, bent down to peer at him in the passenger seat. He looks tired and angry, the circles under his eyes deeper than Carl remembers. But then their eyes meet, and the frown over his brow clears up as his lips stretch into a slow, slow smile. Negan laughs, a rough, warm sound. “God damn, kid. God damn.”

Another scene where I debated on how to make it happen and ended up settling on minimal words from Negan. Instead, it felt more right to give subtle signals of what this must have been like for Negan to think Carl was dead: the dark circles under his eyes showing he hadn't slept, his angry temper that clears when he finally sees Carl... When the Negan pov is ready to post in some more or less distant future, I'm really excited to share what this event was like on Negan's end, spending a whole night grappling with guilt over the fact that he likely sent Carl to his death.

Okay so I was trying to find a short passage to quote from the infirmary scene when Negan discovers what happened to Carl, but I just can't decide on a few lines so, to avoid copy/pasting everything, I just won't quote anything. BUT it was definitely so fun to write. Negan knows Carl better than anyone so he can tell that something happened that Carl isn't admitting to. He's frustrated by Carl's silence but at the same time he wants to be gentle so he has to refrain from just grabbing Carl by the ankles and shaking him upside-down until the truth falls out. He plays a guessing game until he finally gets it, and when he does, he has to physically restrain himself from going berserk and instead put Carl's medical care first. I love those moments when several emotions are battling inside of Negan at once: his rage, his heart, his reason, his needs, his duties... He's a complex character and far less impulsive than people might assume.

Same thing for the line-up episode, I'm not going to quote everything, but I'll just say that when Carl has to inflict violence, Shane always appears, because Shane will always be the embodiment of violence for Carl. He's the one who taught Carl to fight and be angry, he's the one who created Carl's violent tendencies and encouraged them to flow. Carl isn't a showman like Negan. He doesn't hurt people to teach them a lesson. When he hurts someone, it's either for survival or payback, nothing else.

Also, can we talk about @besosderuina's amazing fanarts of Shane and Dan???? Forever in love with their fanarts for the Savior!AU <3

Finally, he turns toward Carl and says, “Look, I know you and I had that moment in the parking lot before… And I just wanted to make clear that… well, that…” He fumbles for a moment, then seems to give up. “Holy hell, I’m not good at this touchy-feely shit,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry, is what I’m trying to say.” And it’s the first time that Carl has ever seen Negan apologize, to him or to anyone. “I thought I was helping you back then, being all sex-positive and shit. But after what those scumbags did…” His face scrunches up, like he just smelled something foul. “It was just really, really shitty timing.” “…Okay,” Carl says when Negan gets quiet and looks at him expectantly. He wonders if this is it, if Negan came all this way to apologize, but he doesn’t seem to be done. “I want to make one thing crystal clear: no one gets to touch you like that. Not them, not me, not anyone. And what you do—or don’t do—on your own free time is no one else’s business but yours. I screwed up, before. I crossed a line. And, Carl, I need you to tell me the next time that happens,” Negan pleads urgently, stepping forward before stopping himself, like Carl might get spooked if he gets too close. “Look, I know who I am. What I am. I’m the kind of guy who can waste people all the goddamn day. I’ll bash their heads in, iron their face off, make their wives and kids widows and orphans, but I don’t just do it for the kick of it. I’m trying to make order out of chaos. I’m bringing civilization back from the ashes and that means getting my hands dirty and scaring the living shit out of people so they follow the rules. Same thing goes for you and the rest of my Saviors. I’ll throw you in a cell and let the guys beat a lesson into you once in a while. Hell, I might even fantasize about having a go at you myself,” Negan says with a wry smile. Then, he sobers up, his eyes grave and steely once again. “But that’s it. I’ll never touch you below the belt like those assholes did. Whatever next rebellious little act you pull out of your hat, no matter how absolutely insane you drive me when you refuse to obey, that will never be part of the punishment. You hear me?” Carl nods, mystified. Negan opens his mouth like he’s about to say something else, but then bites his lower lip. He sighs and lets himself drop on Carl’s bed, his elbows on his knees, his leather jacket half-open like a crack in the armor. He looks exhausted, nothing like the excited showman of last night, making knock-knock jokes as he bashed in the heads of the Claimers with effervescent brutality. “Carl,” he sighs again, “I know you were all traumatized yesterday and that’s why you couldn’t talk to me… But I’m goddamn serious here. I need to know if anything like that ever happens again, especially in Sanctuary. I had a couple of guys a few years back who thought they could force workers to give them blowjobs in exchange for points, and I straightened that shit out the second I heard about it. So, if anyone tries something with you—or if you even see it happening to someone else—you come to me directly. I’ll take care of those dickheads for you. You understand?”

My favorite line here is the simile of the open leather jacket being "a crack in the armor". My second favorite line is me shooting myself in the foot by making Negan say he will never use sex as a punishment and then having Negan use sex as a punishment several times in part 3 (just off the top of my head: the failed blowjob, the sex against the door after the inhaler drama, the failed masturbation in the cell, the dick in the eye scene...). I'm a clown. *sad honking noise*

Conclusion; tldr: The Claimers never stood a chance against Negan. Carl is a badass. Negan doesn't know he's in a throuple relationship with Shane's ghost. Rick & co will appear in part 4 once I figure out how to make it happen. If TWD writers can handwave the plot away then so can I.

You can find the commentary for part 2, chapter 6 here.

[mariswxt]

𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙵𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙾𝙽𝙴𝙳 | bartender!dean winchester

Summary: Dean Winchester needs a job after his little brother left for Stanford, and he’s good at mixing drinks. You happen to work at Harvelle’s Roadhouse, which is the place he chose to work at. He finds a family. He finds a new life. But he also finds you. But you have problems of your own.

A/N - My first reader series, do make sure to comment and/or reblog feedback. Set with S1/2 Dean cause I love our baby boy 😁 and pretend group chats exist on old phones lol

A/N 2 - Chapter’s kinda short, sorry guys 😬 I’ve been ill nonstop, and that sapped my creative juice

Warnings: Blood, gore, alcohol, chaotic group chat, angst, some fluff, Charlie being Charlie, mentions of abuse, Benny isn’t a vampire, Ruby and Meg aren’t demons, everyone got an out from hunting and the Apocalypse, Azazel doesn’t come after the Winchesters

SERIES MASTERLIST

three - french 75

You and Dean were working the bar the following Tuesday with Bela and Benny, a surprisingly chaotic duo while, as usual, the rest of the gang lived it up in a booth nearby.

After the Roadhouse closed up, all of you agreed on what you knew would be a chaotic night of strip poker, almost guaranteed highlights being Ruby’s victory gorilla grunt, Jo throwing her cards down when she lost and Bela’s painfully obvious ‘poker face’ which consisted of her smirk that was strained with poorly restrained giggles.

It was tradition, really.

“Is this place looking for vacancies?” There was a redhead at the bar, her locks cropped to her chin and she sported an eager expression. “If not, that’s ok. I need a way to make some extra cash.”

“And you are?” You asked with a broad smile, pouring a glass of whiskey for a patron.

“Charlie. Bradbury.” She replied with an equally as wide smile. You already took to her well; she seemed like another lost soul who needed a family, but someone you could easily warm up to.

“Ok, Charlie Bradbury. Behind the counter.” You let her in, starting to show her the way in, out, up, down and around the drinks lined behind the counter, showing her the baseball bat in case she needed to ever, y’know, start swinging.

Charlie seemed like a go-getter, already prepared to start flipping bottles and mixing the drinks like nobody’s business.

“This place is cool.” She grinned widely, and you gave her a warm smile and pat on the back as you handed her over to Benny, who took the reins while you and Dean dissolved back into giggles.

Dean nudged you, nodding to Ellen, who looked a lot happier than usual. “Y’know, I think we did Ellen and ol’ boy Bobby a solid. They both seem more like cheery old souls rather than just… old souls.”

“Jo said she actually saw Ellen blushing. Blushing.” You nudged him back. “We play good matchmakers, no?”

“Damn right. We just have to choose our next victims.”

You and Benny were clearing up the bar after closing, the low rumble of your chatter being the only available ambience. The door opened, and without looking up, you and Benny said the exact same thing.

“We’re closed.” You both chorused, but an exhilarated gasp came from whoever walked in, and as your heads looked up, both of your veins turned to straight ice. A woman with flowing, perfectly coiffed brown hair, creamy olive skin and doe eyes was standing there, dressed in white with a longing expression.

You and Benny shared a look, instantly standing closer to one another as you swallowed thickly on a dry throat, the feeling stinging and scratchy. “Andrea.” You whispered, setting the broom against a table while Benny’s eyes misted over with nostalgia and barely restrained heartbreak.

Andrea Kormos. Benny’s ex girlfriend.

“Dre.” Benny breathed, his hand gripping your forearm protectively, putting himself in front of you while your hand discreetly reached for underneath the counter for the concealed weapon, holding off a panic attack as the sight of Andrea brought back unwanted memories. “What are you doing here?”

“My love.” She took a step forward, making Benny fully shield you with his body. “I’ve searched for so long.”

“Why are you here?”

“To bring you back.” Andrea insisted, tilting her head and gazing at Benny as if she was obsessed. “Our family misses you. My father misses you.”

“Tell him to go to hell.” Benny growled, your hand closing around the weapon amid rasping breaths that got shorter each time, heart pounding in your parched throat. Your thoughts drifted to the scars on your neck, the ones that you desperately hid with a good coverage foundation.

Blood draining out of you, your limbs going limp as the thick fluid dropped onto the floor, hungry tongues licking up every inch…

That didn’t help in the slightest.

“I have to bring you in by force if necessary.” She announced, her head held high. “You knew what you got into once you came to our house.”

“I didn’t.” Benny shook his head determinedly. “You said you were just taking me to meet your father. And I find this poor thing in a side room!” His finger pointing at you, blind fury on his face. “I didn’t know what the hell I was getting into.”

“Force it is.” She muttered before teeth, sharp, hooked teeth emerged as she snarled and charged for Benny. Amid gasping breaths, a pounding head and constricted lungs, you yanked a machete out of its holster and swung your dominant arm.

Andrea’s head made a dull thud as it hit the floor, even more so when her body did the same, and before you could collapse against the counter and start sobbing until your voice went hoarse you were drawn into Benny’s arms as he patted your hair, chin on your head as he shushed you. “You’re safe, sweet.” He murmured in a strained voice, torn because who he once thought his love was now lying on the floor.

A piece of his heart might have gone with her.

“Listen to my heartbeat, angel.” He told you, and the thump of his heartbeat filled your ear as you desperately timed your rasping breath with the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Attagirl. Doing so well, sister. I promised you they’d never hurt you again. Didn’t I? And you handled yourself so well. So damn well.”

Inhale.

Exhale.

You repeated that pattern until your head cleared, and you gave Benny a thank you squeeze. He held you for a few more moments before wordlessly sitting you down, getting you a tall, cool glass of water.

Normally, you’d find pin drop silence uncomfortable.

Now you welcomed the change.

The icy liquid seemed to calm your nerves as you gulped it down, Benny’s calloused hand smoothing your hair back an anchor made of the strongest material your brain could think up when it wasn’t all muddled up.

Your lungs gradually releasing the grip it had on your oxygen supply.

“You sit there, sweet.” Benny murmured with a kiss to your crown. “I’ll clear all this up. Like it never happened.”

Your parents had a baby before they were turned into vampires. That baby was you, but they decided to do something else with you.

They made you a lure.

Raised you to coax people into being fed on, and when crop yield was low, you were their supply. That was until Benny got lured into the nest by Andrea, found you and fought like hell to get you both out.

You both stumbled into the Roadhouse, covered in dust, grime and blood, but found a home for life.

You owed your life to Benny, but he insisted that he did the bare minimum and refused any attempt where you tried to repay your internalised debt, and through that you both found an older brother and younger sister figure to rely on.

But only the gang sans Dean and Charlie knew. You’d rather Dean not know where you really came from. He was too innocent for that.

You thought of him, with his million dollar grin, billion dollar flashing eyes and trillion dollar words. If you had to put a tag for his worth on him, he’d be, well, priceless.

A gentleman towards you, a grade A flirt (which you didn’t mind as he lobbed compliment after compliment your way) and he looked at you like you were the only girl in the room. And he never failed to make your heart flutter when he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear when you were working and it obstructed your vision.

You didn’t know why he’d suddenly reach out to take whatever task you were doing and do it himself. All you knew was that it was only a matter of a few weeks and you were already down bad.

Down bad for Dean Goddamn Winchester.

No. No, you couldn’t be. He was too good for you. Even if all those thoughts flew out of your head the moment he called you ‘sweetheart’.

Sweetheart. You hated that name but loved it at the same time. You hated it because it dragged you deeper into the rabbit hole that was Dean and you knew there was no way out. You loved it because the feeling was like a gulp of whiskey after months of not touching it.

Intoxicating.

bDe: who’s managing shift this weekend

charlie weasley: I am!!!

ScarJo: I’m free to manage shift

Queen B: That’s good, cause me, Ruby, Meg are going on a girls trip

You: Where’s my invite hmmmmm

Ruby-gina George: Fine, you can come

You: YAY

Megolodon: There’s gonna be lots of booze

ScarJo: Kind of regret taking shift now

Ben Dover: Too late, darling, you’re stuck behind the counter

ScarJo: I hate you

You: LET’S GET DRUNK

Queen B: THAT’S THE SPIRIT

Casanova: I’m guessing that you’ll need someone to pick you up.

Megolodon: That’s right, Cassie baby

Casanova: I’ll wait for your call, then.

bDe: a gentleman at his finest, yall

Ruby wondered whether she was ill or something. On a grocery run, she found herself tempted to buy women’s swimsuit magazines because the ladies looked pretty. And another day, she found her heart practically somersaulting when she saw Meg’s lips close around a straw as she drank a vodka and soda.

Goddamn.

Now, Charlie was a newbie, but she’d been open about how she was, y’know, batting for the other team. She liked girls. And that meant that Ruby could ask her for advice. And Jo, because Jo was the classic glue of the group and somehow had advice for every damn thing under the sun.

“Jo.” Ruby sat down in front of Jo, who was in animated conversation with Charlie. They both turned to her in surprise and identical raised eyebrows. “And you, Charlie. I need advice.”

Maybe Charlie could help. After all, she was an expert in the field Ruby needed advice on. This was an extremely unfamiliar topic, even though she’d grown up in a family full of suspiciously close women.

Oh, god, this was nerve wracking.

Jo looked concerned, but nodded, and Charlie did the same. “Sure, go ahead.” Jo gestured for Ruby to continue, while Charlie sat eagerly forward in her seat, waiting for Ruby to speak.

“Ok.” She took a deep breath, her eyes briefly flicking to Meg. “What if… what if I…”

“Liked girls?” Charlie finished the sentence with a wide grin. “Don’t worry, takes one to know one. Clocked you the moment I saw you.”

“Gee, thanks.” Ruby drawled, but Jo covered her hand reassuringly.

“We are really proud of you.” She grinned. “No joke there.”

In the meantime, Dean had ducked out to take a call. You saw him through the window, a frown on that gorgeous face. Then it morphed to a rather docile one as he mouthed ‘sorry, sir’, which got you thinking. Who the hell was he talking to?

“I don’t wanna come back, sir.” Dean muttered dejectedly, but heard John’s voice on the other end of the line.

‘Ain’t your choice to make, son. You’re gonna come back and keep hunting. With your brother gone-’

“Sammy’s out. I should get one too.”

‘You’re a born hunter. You’ll stay that way.’ John’s voice half inclined Dean to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

Hell, he itched to, with how messed up and crappy he was, he ached to.

Then he saw you come out of the bar, brow furrowed in the sudden sunlight. His new home. The one he felt tentative, but safe in. Not like everything was an urge he needed to fight. With you, he just gave in.

And so he gave an exhilarated smile, cut the call and acted as if everything was ok.

Because it was.

You were around.

Sam was nervous. He was at a restaurant with Jessica, wearing his best suit and adjusting his tie, while she looked stunning, in a blue, floor-length dress that brought out her eyes and her beautiful features. The warm lights flickered in the ambience while Sam ordered a round of champagne just as Jess came back from the bathroom, quickly slipping something to the waiter.

“This is a very rare date night.” Jess quipped, her manicured hands (she went for an emergency nail appointment) resting over one another as she gave Sam a knowing look.

He gave her a light scoff and a defensive look. “Hey, hey, I take you on dates all the time-”

“I’m kidding!” She giggled, waving him off before resting her head on her palm. “This is just fancier than usual. It’s a change from our coffee dates. Don’t get me wrong, I love those too, it just makes me think there’s a special occasion.”

That was his cue.

He signalled to the waiters, who brought out Jess’ favourite champagne. She delicately sipped as they talked, of Stanford, how Sam was doing and their chosen courses.

When a small metal thing hit her lips.

She gasped softly as she took it out, seeing a shiny diamond ring and then Sam on one knee, taking her hand and kissing the knuckle.

“Jessica Elizabeth Moore, will you marry me?”

TAGLIST:

@hobby27 @jackles010378 @deans-spinster-witch @kr804573 @eexphoria @onlyangel-444 @mxltifxnd0m @iloveyou2mia @snowayumi @itssofiasstuff @yallgotkik @aylacavebear @muhahaha303 @k-slla @thegirlwholoveslivesfanfiction @star-yawnznn @mrsjenniferwinchester

Like, reblog, and let me know if you want to join the taglist!

[incorrectbatfam]

What do the Goofy Gooners look like .. asking for a friend …

Rob is a tired dad with an inferiority complex. He doesn't put much effort into his appearance because basic hygiene already saps a lot of his energy. He has reddish-brown hair that he keeps short for convenience and doesn't shave as often as he should, so there's always a thin layer of stubble. I picture him to be around 33 but stress makes him look older. He usually wears the same basic t-shirts and cargo pants—a polo would be fancy for him. He's on the underweight side because he frequently skips meals so his kids and Milo have enough. He also has random tattoos scattered over his arms plus one on his leg and neck. They don't mean anything, just dumb stuff he got when he was younger, including a winking emoticon and the Pillsbury doughboy.

Blaise is 26 and you can tell he's a stoner from the get-go. He has dirty blonde hair that he grows out but hardly maintains, and the same level of effort goes for his clothes. He often wears things he finds in dumpsters or thrift stores and chooses comfort over style. His clothes have lots of hidden pockets for lighters, firecrackers, and weapons. He's tall and lanky, which makes living out of Milo's car in the parking lot awkward (Rob offered his apartment but he declined). Similar to Rob, Blaise also has a number of meaningless tattoos plus several piercings. He also plays the guitar and keeps his lucky pick on a necklace.

Kellin is a 20-year-old originally hailing from Thailand. Their assassin parents trained them in gymnastics, martial arts, and various weaponry from a young age in hopes that Kellin would follow in the family's footsteps and join the League of Assassins. That obviously didn't work out and they traveled around as an independent hitman (hitperson?) for a couple years before they landed in Gotham. They're always battle-ready—if they could shower in their assassin uniform they would. They changed their name and keep their hair just long enough to mask their face. They're fluent in English, Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese, and Arabic, but they prefer to let their actions speak for them instead.

Molly is a 25-year-old trans woman who incorporates her jobs as a drug dealer, team strategist, and nightclub DJ in a single look. She has long dark hair dyed with neon streaks but ties it up when fighting. She's not the most formidable combatant but she has basic fighting skills and is very calculative. Her primary weapon is a metal baseball bat, inspired by her favorite anti-hero, Harley Quinn. She also has a belt equipped with her experimental chemicals and smoke pellets. However, she's not allowed to pair up with Blaise on missions because it's an open secret that the two of them can't focus around each other.

Otto is a war veteran and car mechanic around the same age as Alfred, but that's where the similarities end. He's been wearing the same mechanic's uniform for the past four decades, the only differences between then and now being his hair thinning, a couple front teeth falling out, and acquiring a beer gut. His arms are covered in scabs and scars from the job and he's had trouble with his right knee ever since the army. On the surface he seems like a Boomer yelling at kids to get off his lawn, but he's more like a stern but well-intentioned grandpa who is disappointed to see nothing much has changed over the years.

Milo is your standard 15-year-old delinquent. He's slightly small for his age and doesn't pack that big of a punch on his own, but put him behind the wheel and he's a total menace. When he's not driving, he keeps himself stimulated with video games or his collection of keychains (his favorite is purple bat because of his puppy crush on Spoiler). His look is reminiscent of early 2000s skater punks, including a bright red mohawk and his trusty headphones. Everything he owns, minus his car, fits into a single backpack. His weapon, on the rare occasion Rob lets him on the front line, is a batarang he found on the street.

Gene is someone you would never expect to have so many issues because on the outside he looks like an average 40-year-old glasses-wearing office worker. He has short sandy hair and dark circles under his eyes from nightmares. His meds help a lot, but sometimes he's still seen pacing around and muttering to himself. He's not a danger anymore compared to the past, which is why Rob trusts him enough to share an apartment. Gene focuses his nervous energy into his research and tinkering instead, amassing a comedic collection of hyperspecific gadgets.

Mac is basically the guy in the chair. He's 30 and has thick glasses, thick curly brown hair, a thin goatee, and almost exclusively wears flannel. His nails are down to a nub because he bites them when concentrating. He's also often seen with chips or an energy drink in his hands and wears a jailbroken smart watch. Of the team, he has the least physical prowess but the most brain power. He doesn't see combat often but keeps a pistol in case. He turned an old ice cream truck into his home/mobile office so he can plug in anywhere. Like Kellin, he's also not from Gotham, but instead Fawcett City and has a distinct Minnesota accent.

Booker is a 19-year-old Gotham U student and the third member of the team's Glasses Trio. He's an intelligent guy slated to graduate a year early and thus needs his internship credits sooner. He's very polite (albeit a little socially awkward) and puts his best foot forward by coming into work with slacks and fun patterned suspenders even though he doesn't have to. His hair has a slightly uneven fade because his sister insisted on practicing on him for cosmetology school, so he covers it with a fedora. He carries his things in a laptop bag and has an enthusiastic bounce in his step that only newbies would have.

Jackie and Gunner are Rob's 6-year-old twins (Jackie being 8 minutes older) and are the babies of this hodgepodge family. Jackie takes after her late mother with frizzy black hair usually tied in pigtails. She loves wearing pink, reads way above her level, and is a horse girl in that she wants one to stomp on the people she doesn't like. Gunner looks more like his dad, though his hair is a little messier and overgrown. He hates school but loves dirt and monster trucks. Both of them have a troublesome streak but Jackie's a little better at hiding it. They quarrel like siblings do but at the end of the day, they always stick up for each other.

[uwuyangeppie]

This is gonna be so random but like imagine gepard kidnapping you right and going on his whole speech and whatever just for reader to look him dead in his face and say “Well that ruins my plans” because they were planning on kidnapping HIM and doing the same to him😭 basically stalker x obsessed!reader

LMAOOOO,,, aww look at the cute little couple!! they’re both incredibly mentally ill and need to be locked up. therapy can’t save them.

this piece mentions pregnancy, so if you happen to have a male body type, just chalk it up to mpreg lmfao

if ruan mei can make those cute little cake cat things that speak, gepard landau can impregnate anyone he chooses.

anyway, let’s give gepard a controlled shock!

you decide that it’s best to be nice. after all, he is the captain of the guards, and you have been doing some fairly illegal things. if you’re aggressive, he might choose to investigate further.

cause sure, you’re tied up, but it’s not like there’s any other guards around. this could just be a test.

“-and your rat bastard employer who’s always looking at you in such a disgusting way, but of course i don’t have any proof, i just notice things, and no proof won’t get him any jail time and killing him, well- and- and anyway, this is all for your own good, okay? and mine! i’m stopping crime before it happens, so really, this is actually a crime prevention tactic, and not a kidnapping. i know that’s what it looks like. but it’s not. it’s not a kidnapping. it’s crime prevention.”

ahhh…

oh, wait. ugh.

“well, that ruins my plans.”

gepard blinks at you. “what?”

you bat your eyes at him. “are you sure you want to kidnap me?”

“it’s not a kidnapping-”

“you have to worry about food and water and stuff and you already have so much on your plate! just come live at my house forever and ever and ever~ i’ll feed you everything! anything you want! it’ll be a holiday you won’t need to put in leave for! sure, i won’t let you out of the house or anything, but you don’t need that! you can just stay with me! forever! i promise i won’t use the handcuffs i got my hands on- haha- the other day! we can snuggle together in my bed and i can be the little spoon and eventually… maybe… continue the family line…?”

gepard is looking at you, completely stunned.

interesting. cute!

you did mean everything you said, though.

he opens his mouth to say something, but then closes it.

“i think i’d look soooooo cute carrying your kids, don’t you?!”

the captain looks like he wants to say something, but doesn’t know how to. eventually, though, he breaks past his confusion-

“um, maybe i should reevaluate who i develop feelings for. self-reflect, and all.”

and with that, he leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

[notmyprey]

Ope, another new character that's not actually new and has technically been a full fledged character in my brain for a while now.

Their name is Angel, and their basic premise is that they are a "Guardian" (creature made to look after a human, read specifics under cut) of a girl named Lilly.

Again, I go a bit more in-depth after the cut, but feel free to send me asks about them!!

(TW: SH and Attempted Suicide mentions under the cut. I will highlight the paragraph/s containing this in red, so you can skip over them if you would like)

Background Information:

Angel lives in a world where about 1 in every 3 people are granted a "Guardian" at birth. Most people only get one Guardian, and its rare (nearly unheard of) to have more than one. The purpose of a Guardian is to help their human with making decisions, though that's not to say Guardians dont have their own personalities. Guardians look and act like humans, but are much smaller (they are normally 9-12 cm tall once full grown). Guardians also mature at the same pace as humans, and do grow to get taller and or more mature as they age.

Guardians dont need food or water, but many choose to eat and drink because they like the taste.

Each Guardian has the ability to sprout wings. Their wings are part of the Guardian, and cannot be changed or altered, though the type of wings a Guardian is born with can be anything from bird like to bat like. Guardians also posses the ability to teleport to the human they Guard.

Guardians are near unkillable, the only way to kill one being that both of their wings need to be cut off.

Angel is a Guardian of Lilly, alongside Lilly's other Guardian, Ash. As depicted above, Angel does not look human at all, something they are mocked for constantly. They have paws, fluffy ears, and have white and black fur all over their body. They also have a tail (which is not shown in the picture).

Angel and Ash got their names from a common phrase which refers to the Guardians as "an Angel and a Devil". The phrase was originally something to degrade people who had 2 Guardians, since many thought that those born with 2 Guardians were cursed to be born with one angel and one devil. But since that theory has been debunked in modern times, its now used to say that someone has 2 Guardians.

Angels story:

Angel had a normal childhood, but things started getting rough when Lilly started school. Kids would point out Angels strange appearance, some being meaner about it than others. After the kids started to get meaner to both Lilly and Angel around 4th-5th grade, Lilly stopped claiming Angel and ignored them. This caused Lilly to start really bonding with Ash, while her and Angel did not get that same bond.

Angel is also ignored by Lilly's family, since most people in her family dont have Guardians and, as such, dont know how to interact with them. Both of these factors worsened once Lilly hit middle school, and she herself started bullying Angel as well. Her and Ash started mocking Angel and making backhanded comments about them to their face. They would also play pranks on Angel, directly putting them in harms way.

Often, when it came to holidays, Angel wouldn't get gifts, and if they did it was often something small or something Lilly or Ash discarded because they got a gift they didn't want.

Once in Highschool, Lilly and Ash started to get more elaborate with their pranks. Lilly read online a meme that was along the lines of "Technically, since Guardians are small enough and they cant die, you could eat them lol", which Lilly then took as a great prank to pull on Angel.

In short, Lilly ate Angel and kept them for about 5 days before spitting them back out.

While in Lilly's stomach, Angel started to reevaluate their worth to Lilly, and confidently decided that they were practically useless. Lilly was functioning just fine without Angel, and they didnt think they would be missed.

The night they were let back out, they waited till everyone was asleep and went to the kitchen. They tied a string to the hilt of a knife and anchored it to a drawer handle, acting like a makeshift guillotine. They placed the joint connecting their wing and torso under it and let go of the string. Their wing was severed from their body, the resulting pain making them scream for a moment. After calming down, they pulled the string to bring the knife in the air once more. Right as they positioned their second wing, Lilly's mom entered the kitchen. Upon seeing Angel, she quickly screamed for Lilly to wake up. She picked up Angel, wrapped their nub with a paper towel, and threw them into Lilly's hands. She tossed the wing into a bag with ice and ran to the car.

Once at the ER, the doctors tried to reattach Angels wing, but unfortunately it did not work.

After this incident, Lilly realized just how drastically mean she has been to Angel. Since it had just been the norm to her, and since Angel had never fought back, she hadn't thought to stop till then. She decides to try and be better towards Angel, working to build a bond with them.

What my drawing depicts is a moment a few days after the incident. Angel had by then convinced themself that they are only useful when they are "food", and in the drawing, Angel is trying to convince Lilly to eat them again.

So ya, my poor poor trauma ridden Angel......

Again, questions are the best!! ASK ME THINGS!!!!

[seramilla]

divorce au, imagine if the girls get to talking and decide to try to set up carmilla and sera, not realizing they are flirting with each other behind their backs

Odette and Clara are a little overwhelmed hanging out with Emily's friends. As daughters of such a stern, no-nonsense businesswoman like Carmilla Carmine, they spend a good amount of their free time learning about the family business from her. Sure, they have their social groups back home, but neither have been in such a large clique of friends before.

Emily seems right at home. The bouncy, spirited young woman becomes even more alive among Verosika and her band. Emily weaves many hilarious and entertaining tales of summers past at the resort, and all the hijinks they used to get up to in their younger days. Things that tested the limits of Sera's patience, but were relatively harmless, in the grand scheme of things.

Things like turning the water in the pool red with food coloring one Halloween, so that it resembled blood. Or holding a Rent-A-Puppy event at the resort to raise money for one of Verosika's first road tours (the fur was everywhere for weeks). Or prank calling Sera at the front desk from various rooms in the resort, making outrageously nonsensical requests, even though those rooms were supposed to be vacant, sending the older woman into a frenzy of confused agitation.

All of it sounds very sneaky and conniving to the Carmine girls; as near-perfect daughters, neither of them have really ever misbehaved that much in their lives. Clara has a mischievous streak, but Odette's always managed to keep her in line and out of any real trouble. But after listening to Emily's stories, Clara in particular starts to get... ideas.

There's a little whisper in the back of Clara's brain. A little bug, needling its way into her ear, giving her all sorts of thoughts and plans and delicious schemes.

This week was supposed to be all about fun, after all. What would it hurt...to get up to a little trouble?

Odette hones in on that devilish grin of Clara's like a heat-seaking missile, ready to snuff it out.

"No!" Odette shrieks, smacking her hand down on the table in front of her. "Absolutely not!" They are all crowded into the biggest booth at the back of the hotel restaurant. Emily, Verosika, and the rest of the entourage jump at Odette's sudden outburst.

"Whaaaaaat?" Clara asks, voice full of fake whimsy. "I didn't even do anything yet!"

"Yeah, but you were thinking it!" Odette snaps back, jabbing her finger into Clara's nose, poking her harshly. Clara rubs her face in annoyance. "I know what it looks like when your brain starts getting ideas, little sister. I said N-O. NO!"

"You're not even going to listen to what I have to say before telling me it's a bad idea?" Clara asks, clasping her hands together and batting her eyelashes at Odette coquettishly.

"Come oooon," Verosika joins in, and the sound of the singer's voice makes Odette blush about 12 different shades of red, before going silent. "Let the girl cook! I, for one, am eager to hear what she's got in mind."

"What if...?" Clara starts, eyes turning forward and forehead clenching tight, as if she's deep in thought. She turns to face Emily. "Mom and Sera have been flirting with each other non-stop. Mom tries to be casual about it, but your sister hasn't taken her eyes off of her once since we got here. She’s laying the sauce on thick, showing off her muscles and stuff whenever Sera's around. It's too obvious. I haven't seen her get that type of way in years. Not even with our dad."

"Yeah..." Odette agrees, still not quite picking up what her sister is putting down. "So what?"

"We need to get them together!" Clara’s eyes are sparkling, practically bursting out of her head with excitement. "If neither one of those idiots will make the first move, then we just need to...gently (or not-so-gently) coax an interaction between them. Make one of them make the first move."

"Oooohooo, juicy!" Kiki, one of Verosika's roadies, pipes up. "What are you thinking, girly?"

"I don't know," Clara admits, shrugging. "I haven't gotten that far.”

“Oh! Oh!” Emily waves her hand, fidgeting in her seat to try and get her words out. “Maybe we could leave each of them a note from the other? Fake their signatures somehow?”

“Or…” Clara continues, with a wicked grin, “Odette and I could lock Mom out of our room in her swimsuit, so Sera has to bring her an extra key?”

The entire group hoots and hollers at that last idea. Even Odette. It seems so...out of character for the older Carmine sibling. But Clara is right. The flirting between Carmilla and Sera has gotten quite ridiculous up to this point. It's obvious they like one another...and frankly, Odette and Clara are getting tired of waiting and hoping for one of them to make a move. The situation is so needlessly hopeless.

"I will say..." Emily says, giggling into her hand. "If you forced my sister to interact with your mom when she's in that bathing suit, she might faint right on the spot. It's a risk, for sure. But it might be worth it just to see the look on her face before she passes out!"

Now the cogs and gears in Odette's own playful brain are turning. They are old and creaky and covered in proverbial rust from disuse...but this particular level of mischief is awakening something in her. Something she hasn't even thought of touching since she was a little kid.

Odette looks at Clara. Then at Emily. Then the rest of the group. Clara and Emily are then looking at each other, eyes so wide, and bouncing in their seats, so violently that they almost fall over out of sheer excitement.

God, are they really doing this? Odette is supposed to be the golden child; the one who always follows the rules, and listens to her elders, and does what she is told, no matter what!

But she's also an adult now, and that little girl who was taught for years to be prim and proper in boarding school is just clawing and raging and tearing at the walls to break free of her self-imposed prison. She can see a mini version of herself snarling and foaming at the mouth, fighting to get out.

Odette sighs. Loudly...exaggeratedly...like she's trying to at least pretend like she's still the most mature person in the room.

"I can't believe you guys are making me do this," Odette says, faking a level of annoyance that she doesn't actually feel. Clara punches her shoulder playfully, not buying her act. Odette chuckles, wrapping one arm around Clara's neck and giving her sister a noogie with her other fist, like when they were kids.

"You're not fooling me!!" Clara chortles, brushing up against her sister’s shoulder affectionately when Odette finally lets her get free. "Just admit it. The sound of adventure is calling!"

"If that's what you want to call it, sure," Odette acquiesces, resigning herself to Clara and the group's shenanigans. "I guess I'm in."

"YEEESSSSS!" Clara shouts, standing up in her seat, and pumping her fist obnoxiously in the air. Several of the restaurant patrons turn their heads to look at her, but Clara is so caught up in her own scheming, she doesn't even notice. The young woman has zero shame at this point.

Emily soon follows suit, so Clara won't be the odd duck out, and both girls continue to psyche each other up until Odette discretely asks their waitress for the check. The waitress is just a teenager, and she's been putting up with them for the entire afternoon. Odette makes sure to leave her a hefty tip for her troubles.

And with that, Operation Swimsuit is under way, and the group spends the rest of their time together concocting the most evil, wicked plan imaginable.

[waywardxrhea]

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 6

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 4,406

content: fluff! angst and anxiety! PROTECTIVE GEORGE (can we all tell that i love that side of George?)! more fluff!

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

December rolled around and one afternoon in the early goings of the month, George went to visit you. What he didn’t expect to see when he knocked on the door was you with your arms wrapped in sparkly Christmas tinsel. A confused look fell onto George’s face when he saw you, but he recovered quickly and said, “Oh hey, is your name tinsel? Because you add sparkle to my holiday season.”

A red blush lit up your cheeks at the line for a moment before you countered with, “Are you a snow globe? Because you make my world go round.”

“That was smooth,” he told you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, he asked with a chuckle, “Really though, why’ve you got yourself wrapped in tinsel?”

“Well she’s supposed to be helping me with decorating the tree,” came your mum’s teasing voice as she emerged from the sitting room with a box cradled in her arms. She smiled warmly before telling him, “It’s good to see you, George. Come in, it’s too cold out there!”

“Thank you,” George said graciously as he ducked inside and out of the snowy weather. 

As she turned the corner and disappeared into the other room, George whipped out his wand and waved it, causing his clothes to instantly become warm and dry. “George!” you whisper-shouted at him as your eyes darted to where your mother’s retreating back just was. 

“Relax, she didn’t see,” George assured you before following you into the sitting room that was being warmed by a crackling fire. The room though was also filled with boxes that were bursting at the seams with red and green, silver and gold, glitter and ribbons, and so much more! 

As George looked around at the jumble of boxes around him, watching the pair of cats batting around loose ornaments, your mum smiled and said, “Welcome to your first annual Christmas decorating session!” She began walking toward the entryway and called your name before saying, “I still have some boxes in the car I need to grab, but fill George in on what needs to get done to stay on schedule! If he doesn’t mind helping, of course!”

“I don’t mind at all,” George told her with a broad smile on his lips. As she ducked out into the cold though, you groaned, causing George to ask, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t expect her to rope you into helping decorate,” you told him quietly. “I know that’s not what you came over expecting and all and she’s always got so much to put up because she loves the holiday so much and-”

George cut your rambling off by kissing you, telling you afterwards, “I think you’re forgetting that we have a little thing called magic on our side now that I’m here.”

“Wait! Magic! Of course!” you whispered, excitement evident in your voice.

George chuckled before saying, “Wow, after what you said at the door I didn’t think you’d be so quick to jump on using it.”

“No, no! That’s just it! You and your family have used magic your whole lives to decorate, you’ve never had to do it without!” you exclaimed, a sparkle in your eye, and not from the various glittering decor pieces lying about. 

“Okay,” George dragged out as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Where are you going with this?”

“You get to decorate the Muggle way!” you told him with a wide smile on your lips. “I get to show you all our traditions and Mum’s secrets when it comes to putting lights on the tree and we can make cookies and hot cocoa and watch holiday movies while we’re at it!”

Upon seeing the excitement in your eyes, George’s heart melted, so he tucked his wand back into his coat pocket and hung it up on the coat rack near the hallway, returning to you and bringing you into an embrace before asking, “Where do we start?”

“With the tree!” your mum called with a grunt of effort as she entered the doorway dragging a large box containing the plastic Christmas tree in question. George helped her get the large box into the sitting area and she let out a breath before she told him, “Every year we have to get bigger and bolder with the decor because ever since the neighbours across the street moved here from the States they’ve been trying to outdo us.”

“Mum’s got this competitive thing…” you informed George, your teasing tone directed at your mother’s flare for the extravagant. 

Your mum pointed a finger at you before saying, “Well when we were the only ones on the block decorating for so many years, it only felt right to make it into a competition!”

“Well maybe I could help with the magic touches this year,” George told her, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he did. 

“That’s the spirit!” she said as she turned her attention toward the box in front of her to begin taking the tree out. 

And so it began. The three of you spent the afternoon putting up the tree and decorating it before starting the work on the rest of the house’s decor. While your mum took off for a voice lesson, you and George made sugar cookies together along with gingerbread for the four of you to make into houses later, a yearly competition your family held amongst yourselves that you were always tasked with baking the cookies for. Without you knowing it, in order to get some stress off of you from the day’s work, George slipped some laughing potion into your cocoa when you made it and you both spent the greater part of half an hour giggling at each other as you took turns sipping the drink. 

Thankfully the effects wore off just in time for both of your parents to get home for the evening to see that the gingerbread and all the decorating materials were ready for the competition. So as the night wore on the four of you built gingerbread houses and listened to more Christmas movies in the background. George would occasionally get distracted by them though and have rapt attention on the ones featuring magic because of how silly some were, but also how accurate others were… 

The next evening your family and George stood outside of the house admiring the day’s work of getting lights on the house and trees. As you all admired the hard work, the family across the street came over and the husband shook your dad’s hand before telling him with a laugh, “Thanks for giving us the goal marker so we know what to beat! Good luck this year!”

“We won’t be needing luck this year,” George said quietly where only you could hear as the other family as well as your parents began heading inside. 

“What do you think you’re doing, mister?” you asked as he pulled out his wand once he made sure the coast was clear and there were no prying eyes to see what he was about to do. “What happened to no magic and doing things the Muggle way?”

“Well that was before I got competitive like your mum,” he told you as he cast a protective enchantment over the area to obscure prying eyes’ view before getting to work casting more spells to make the lights twinkle just a bit more and the glitter to be just a little more sparkly. It made all the difference though as the two stepped back to admire the house that looked absolutely enchanted now. 

“Wow, it’s beautiful,” you breathed as you both stood on the sidewalk, George’s arm around your waist as he held you close. 

“Almost as beautiful as you are,” said as he pulled you further into his embrace while a furious blush creeped its way up your neck and onto your cheeks. Without you noticing, George waved his wand and transfigured some of the lights hanging from the door frame into mistletoe, so when you got underneath, he wiggled his eyebrows at you before saying, “Oh would you look at that…”

“You are such a flirt,” you told him with a giggle as he leaned down to meet your lips with his own. 

“You love this flirt,” he countered as he briefly pulled away from the kiss, his lips still ghosting over yours. 

“You’re right, I absolutely do,” you agreed before melting into his embrace once more, the heat of your bodies staving off the bitter cold surrounding you. 

Before you knew it, Christmas day arrived and after spending the morning with your little family, you were getting ready for Christmas lunch at the Burrow, opting to tell your parents that the family was visiting London for the occasion so they could have room for everyone. How else were you supposed to excuse spending time with the Weasley family who lived nearly three hours away? You felt horrible lying on Christmas of all holidays, and that anxiety carried with you as you apparated alongside George to the Burrow, carrying an oversized bag of gifts for everyone George told you would be in attendance. Would they even like what you got them? Do wizards and witches even have any use for some of the Muggle gifts you bought? And the dreaded question that had filled your mind from the moment you saw George in a knitted blue sweater with a ‘G’ on the front: what if you didn’t get a sweater? You knew it was a trivial subject to be upset about, after all you were only a girlfriend, not a family member, but the thought had been plaguing your mind all morning. 

“Hey, are you okay?” George asked when you stood rooted to your spot upon arrival to the Burrow. 

“I just… I- what if everything I’ve done isn’t enough and I muck everything up and no one likes-” you started, rambling on as your thoughts raced out of your mouth quicker than you could stop them. “I dunno, I just… I don’t know if I can go in there, Georgie…” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion as your hands began to tremble uncontrollably. 

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” George told you as he held your shaking form in his arms, rubbing your back. A few moments of silence passed before George pulled away and pulled out a small vial of blue liquid, telling you, “I brewed some calming draught in case you might have needed it. Would you like it?”

You graciously nodded, taking the small and now uncorked bottle from George and drinking it, feeling the effects instantly as your heart rate and thoughts slowed and your hands stopped trembling. In the time since George revealed that he was a wizard to you and he told you about all the types of potions he was capable of brewing, the calming draught had become your favourite, opting to use that for your anxiety and panic attacks over your prescribed medication because he always made little batches for you to use when you needed it. 

“Better?” George asked after a few moments. 

“Better,” you replied with a small smile on your face. “Thank you again…”

“Always,” he told you as he hooked his arm in yours as you both made your way up the garden path and to the Burrow which was crowded with friends and family alike. Upon arrival into the warm as ever house, you were greeted with a Christmas cracker by Ginny and you opened it together, sharing the contents after having a laugh at some of the silly trinkets inside. 

“Remus!” George cheered as he greeted an older scarred fellow sitting by the fireplace with Mr. Weasley. “This is my beautiful girlfriend!” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you told the man with a warm smile, pulling the bag off of your shoulder and fishing around for the gift intended for him. “Merry Christmas!” you told him before turning away as George gently tugged on your elbow so you could be introduced to the eldest Weasley brother Bill along with his fiancee Fleur. 

After passing around gifts to everyone, you got to Harry and Ron who were chopping sprouts for the upcoming meal. You gave Ron his gift before turning to Harry and handing him a package containing a small music player and wireless headphones, telling him, “George tells me your family’s right old gits, I thought this should be easy enough to hide from them so you can at least get some form of entertainment when you’re over there.”

“Thank you!” Harry told you, a smile appearing on his face that hadn’t been there in the moments before you came up to the pair of boys who seemed to be in deep discussion about something. 

After the short exchange, George came up behind the three of you with Fred on his heels, the latter saying in a teasing tone, “Oh would you look here George, these two are using knives and everything to cut the sprouts, bless them!”

“I’ll be seventeen in two months’ and a bit time,” Ron countered grumpily. “Then I’ll be able to do it with magic!”

“But until then you can demonstrate for us the proper use of that little knife there,” George told him with a laugh. 

You rolled your eyes playfully and told him just to where the four of you could hear, “Ah yes, the plight of the poor Muggles having to use kitchen knives to chop their vegetables!” You raised an eyebrow at him before adding, “Unless I’m very much mistaken you quite enjoyed helping decorate my house the Muggle way, mister!” 

“I- I didn’t mean-” George tried, his cheeks turning red as he realised what he said.

“Git,” Ron snickered as he resumed chopping the vegetables with Harry. 

“I’m just teasing, love,” you told George as you leaned up to place a quick kiss on his burning cheek. 

Soon enough the Christmas meal was ready and as you ate, the effects of the calming drought began to wear off. So as you dined in relative silence due to your once again building nerves, you looked around at the table and realised that yes, you were one of only two not wearing a sweater knitted by Mrs. Weasley. The only other person being Bill’s fiancee who Mrs. Weasley showed an adamant dislike toward. Your thoughts of inadequacy in Mrs. Weasley’s eyes were disrupted though when across from you, Bill said your name to get your attention and asked, “So what was it you do?”

“Oh, uh, I’m a performer! I mostly sing in pubs,” you replied vaguely, a tight smile making its way onto your lips. Even though Bill was George’s brother, he was not in the loop about you being a Muggle and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had made it abundantly clear that only a select few people were allowed to know, lest that information get into the wrong hands. You cleared your throat and blindly felt around for George’s hand under the table before turning the subject back to Bill, asking, “And you’re a curse breaker at Gringotts, yeah? What’s that like?” you let out a sigh of relief as George grasped your slightly shaking hand while you listened to Bill talk about his job as a curse breaker and some of the adventures the job had taken him on.

More conversation passed about other people who were missing from the table and talk about changing patronuses occurred before Mrs. Weasley looked out the window and into the yard to see someone walking up to the house. She let out a gasp before she squeaked, “Arthur!” She stood and made her way to the window with her hand over her heart as she cried, “Arthur! It’s Percy!”

“What?” Mr. Weasley asked as all heads turned to the window to see the third eldest Weasley brother, but he wasn’t alone. He was walking up the garden path with an older gentleman who walked with a limp and a cane with his greying hair flapping about in the bitter winter wind.

“He’s…he’s with the Minister!” Mrs. Weasley gasped quietly. 

Fear and panic flooded the forefront of your mind and you froze at the news. Surely someone as highly positioned as the Minister for magic would know that you weren’t magical! Before you could think of what to do, you were unceremoniously shoved under the table by Ginny who sat on your side not occupied by George. In response to the action, Bill shot his little sister a confused look, but couldn’t ask more before the door to the house opened and there stood Percy with the Minister. 

All you could see were legs surrounding you under the table and you did your best to calm your breathing as panic settled in and a deafening roar flooded your ears. Surely they would know you were here, and if they did that would mean that George could be arrested right here right now. Maybe they brought Percy here to soften the blow - or to make it worse, who knew with George’s history with his brother… 

You were brought back to reality as a pair of legs two seats over got up from the chair and left the dining area to go outside. When the roar in your ears finally settled down a bit, you heard Percy speaking. “Whose place setting?” you heard him ask stiffly, no doubt talking about your own. 

“It’s an extra plate we made for the ghoul in the attic, but he didn’t come down for Christmas this year so Ginny and I’ve been eating it for him,” George lied. 

“Right old git not coming to spend Christmas with everyone am I right?” Fred asked pointedly. 

You could practically feel Percy roll his eyes at his brothers before saying, “I’m not stupid. George, I know you have a girlfriend and have been spending a suspicious amount of time out in the Muggle world. That can only mean that said girlfriend is a Muggle and if that place setting is hers then you’ll be in direct violation of Wizarding law and I’ll have to wipe her memory due to the fact that you revealed magic to her without marrying her into the Wizarding family first.”

Upon hearing the threat, you hugged your legs close to your chest and jumped when you heard a chair clatter to the ground. The clattering chair in question of course was George’s as he stood up and pointed his wand at his brother, saying in a low voice, “Listen here you great prat, if you so much as think about mentioning to the Minister that she’s a Muggle, I swear to Merlin you’ll never be able to open that big mouth of yours again.”

“George!” Mrs. Weasley scolded as she turned to the younger son with a horrified look on her face. There was a splat that filled the air as Fred flicked his wand and parsnip mash flew across the table and right onto Percy’s glasses in retaliation for the threat he made to you. “Fred!!” Mrs. Weasley shouted. More food was thrown courtesy of Ginny before Mrs. Weasley put a stop to things and ushered Percy to the sitting area so she could help get him cleaned up. 

A few more tense minutes passed before the Minister and Percy left the Burrow, that fact only known to you when Ginny called, “They’re gone.”

As you emerged from underneath the table, you let out a shaky breath before saying, “I…I think that’s my queue to go…”

Before your falling tears could be seen by the rest of the group, George wrapped his arms around you in a protective hug, mumbling into your hair, “It’s okay. Nothing I can’t handle. You’re fine, darling…”

Upon seeing the scene in front of her, Mrs. Weasley’s face softened as she sighed quietly and said, “No dear, please stay. We haven’t even gotten to pudding.”

“Are…are you sure…?” you asked quietly as you gathered yourself and tried to steady your voice. 

“Of course,” Mrs. Weasley replied as she waved her wand and sat George’s chair back up. 

“Thank you Mrs. Weasley,” you said quietly as George guided you back to your chair, his hand never leaving yours as everyone finished up the meal.

Later that evening after you and George disapparated back to the flat above the shop, you were quiet for a few minutes as you made the both of you tea. As you were making it, George wrapped his arms around you from behind and asked, “Is everything all right? You’re being awfully quiet…”

You swallowed the lump in your throat before whispering, “George, if…if my being a Muggle is going to keep being a problem, then-”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” George told you as he held you closer to his body. He turned you around and gently kissed you for a few moments before getting more playful, nipping at your bottom lip and lifting you into his arms as he started making the way to his room. 

Once the pair of you were situated comfortably on the bed with you straddling George’s lap, you giggled and asked, “What’s gotten into you all of a sudden? That was a serious question.”

“I just got to thinking is all,” he replied as he peppered more kisses all over your face and neck. 

“Well that’s never a good sign,” you teased before placing a few kisses along his jaw in return. 

George chuckled before crashing his lips onto yours once more, his thumbs rubbing small circles on your hips as he did. When he pulled away a few moments later, he asked breathlessly, “Marry me?”

Your eyes went wide at the question as you said, “I- What- George, I-” You huffed out an anxious laugh before asking, “You’re kidding right?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything in my whole life,” he told you before he kissed you once more. 

“Okay wait, hold on, hold on,” you said as you got yourself off of George’s lap, sitting cross-legged beside him as you took one of his hands in yours. You sighed quietly before asking, “Is this because of what your brother said? About breaking the law? And…wiping my memory…? Or because of the war? I know your dad was saying things are getting worse…”

He looked at you like you hung the moon as he breathed out your full name before saying, “From the moment I saw you I knew I was gonna marry you someday.” A warm smile appeared on his face as he pulled his wand off of the nightstand and waved it, causing a small box to start floating his way from within the wardrobe. “And yes, with the war going on and tomorrow never being a guarantee, I may be rushing things, but all I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. This doesn’t have to be within the year or even the next, but I want you to have this ring so we both know that no matter what the future holds at least we’re together.” He opened the box to reveal a beautiful ring that sparkled in the light of the bedroom and asked, “So, what d’you say?”

“I…” you whispered, your voice breaking with emotion. “You’re for real? Like one hundred percent for real?” you asked as you squeezed his hand once more, afraid that if you let go you would wake up from a long and absolutely blissful dream. 

“As real as the magical joke shop you’re sitting above,” he teased with a sparkle in his eye. 

A wide smile broke out onto your face as you finally nodded in response, telling him, “Yes!” 

“Smashing!” George said gleefully as he slipped the ring onto your left hand, pulling you back onto his lap before he kissed you deeply. When you finally parted, he rested his forehead on yours as he whispered, “Merry Christmas, darling.”

“Merry Christmas to you too. And to many more together,” you told him as you snuggled into his embrace affectionately.

a/n: okay, yes, i know that not many Brits go all out for Christmas, but this family does and not in the religious way. i like to call their (and my personal) style of celebration Capitalist Christmas in which decor is bought and gifts are given but religion is left out! i wrote this around Christmas last year and i just thought the whole decorating the Muggle way would be so cute!

also! when i was reding through this to edit again before publishing i read through the scene between George and Percy so many times because once again i. love. George Weasley's. protective side!

ps i love them so much, i think their little engagement is so cute and playful! i didn't want it to be anything too too serious because at the end of the day, it's George Weasley we're talking about here, so that's that!

the next part is only 842 words before editing, so it's definitely getting published by end of day i just didn't want to tack it onto the end of this one...

taglist: @reidmarieprentiss @v1ckycheesue @superduckmilkshake

[seiueina]

I couldn’t help but think what it would be like for the significant other of Ego Jinpachi…and how married life and parenting life would change drastically while he took more of his responsibility to the Blue Lock Project.

unfinished, not proofread, i’ve had this in the drafts for so long so i am deciding to just post it now :3

“Where is the stupid pass?” You utter as you scramble through your backpack, the backpack that was filled with a lot of things..things that are needed for the kiddos and needed for you. You always noted that you have to clean the backpack out at some point but with raising two children at the age of 4 almost entirely by yourself…is exhausting and you always forget to clean the bag out.

“Mommy I need to pee!!!” Your daughter, shouts just as you found the pass in order to enter the Blue Lock building. “Give me one second! Let me scan this real quick!” You exclaim as you hurriedly put the pass against the scanner, the scanner stays a red LED color, you gasph. Repeatedly putting the pass against the scanner.

‘Entry Denied’

At this point in the day, you we’re already overwhelmed. Taking your son to his soccer game early in the morning and then running home quickly because you forgot to pack your daughters ballet shoes…rushing then over to the dance studio and now ended up here. Unable to get through the door and to a bathroom in which your daughter (for some reason) needed so urgently all of a sudden. You stood there, the tears lining your waterline.

You wanted to let everything out. Cry, scream, shout, curse your husband out the moment you saw him. Years before this…it wasn’t like this. You wouldn’t have imagined your life to become of this. He promised you that he will split his attention from this Blue Lock Project and his family. But he didn’t live up to the promise.

You would go days without hearing a single thing from Jinpachi. Any and everything that you were updated about your husband was given from Anri. The woman who is working with your husband on this “stupid” project. You didn’t feel any remorse for her, you couldn’t bring yourself to even though at this point she’d seen and been in his presence longer than you have in 3 months. And including now…even more so you couldn’t hate Anri, especially when you hear her calling your name.

“y/N-sama!!!” She screams and your ear perks up. “I can’t get in!” You shout back, and she runs up to the door and puts her pass onto the scanner, it quickly lights up green and the door opens. “Mommy I need to go!” Yumi, your four year old daughter utterd again and you swiftly grab her from the ground and rush towards the sign with the restroom sign. Your son, Yuri, quickly following behind you. Luckily, you were able to get to the restroom and Yumi was able to go to the bathroom just in time before an accident occurred.

“Let’s go see your father.” You huffed before leaving the restroom and finding his office. The moment you got there, his eyes were glued on the many of many screens plastered on the wall. He didn’t bat an eye at the supposedly three important things in his life. “What did I say about knocking. Anri- I am”

“Jinpachi.” You exhaled, he turned his head around to see you standing near the door. Your children running around his office as you couldn’t care less about what they were up to in this moment. “Oh. y/N.” He breaths out before returning his head back to the many of many screens, all displaying each individual clips of the players.

“That’s all? Is this really what we mean to you?” You grumbled, walking closer and closer to your husbands desk chair. “Look at me Jinpachi.” You say as you turn his desk chair around. He now faced you.

“Why are you even here? Can’t you see, I am busy reviewing match clips of my unpolished gems.” He replies with a growing urge of annoyance. “So your more interested in these “unpolished gems” then those gems?” You shout, pointing over to the two children the both of you created, he looks over in the same direction then back at you.

“Watch your attitude when you’re talking to me. You’re the one who came here unannounced.” He scoffs standing up from his seat. The two of you were almost the exact same height, Ego only being one inch taller than you, he just barely towered over you, but with just enough space for him to sinisterly smile down at you. “Let’s get a divorce then.” You say, leaving him in utter shock as you go and grab the kiddos from the couch. “I am sorry for yelling.” You apologize to your children as you saw them with hands over their ears. “-C’mon, papa is busy with work…maybe one day he’ll want to see you!” Staying as optimistic as you could.

You were over it to say the least. Ego Jinpachi wasn’t the same man you fell in love with 10 years ago. He’s changed drastically and you can’t help but blame the JFU and this whole Blue Lock Project. With each kid holding your respective hands, you walk past your soon to be ex husband.

“Bye daddy!” Both kids cheerfully smiled and waved at him as the door to his office opened. There you startled Anri who was holding a laundry basket. “Ah! y/N! Leaving already?” She awkwardly laughs before looking up at you. “-No she isn’t.” Your husband blurts out. “Errand girl. Take Yuri and Yumi somewhere…I have an important conversation with my wife.” Jinpachi continues as Anri raises an eyebrow. Looking at your face.

“I guess I can take them to meet the players!” Anri whispers, you wanted to hear your husband speak to you…you didn’t know why. He could have given you his time a day a few seconds ago, so why now does he want to give it? You hand your kids over to Anri. “Okay babies, go with Anri-chan, she’s gonna show you guys all over while daddy and I have a talk!” You say cheerfully before sending them off on their way.

Once the doors to his office closed he quickly started, “You’re not divorcing me.” He speaks and you walk closer to him. “What if I am?” You reply, arms crossed over your chest.

“y/N. I am still in love with you.” He says looking at your face, seeing any type of reaction that’ll perform. “Really? Well it sure don’t look like it!” You exhaled, shuddering your shoulders he steps back, exhales a breath.

He stays quiet, standing in the same position. You rub your temples, "Exactly what I was thinking...am' gonna pack me and the kids stuff and stay at my parents until further notice. I'll contact the lawyer and they'll give you call." You speak aloud, hesitating to turn around and walk to the door just in case, maybe, he'll say something. But he doesn't.

“That’s what I thought…” Whispers came from your mouth as your waterline brimmed with tears as you turn around to exit Jinpachis' office.

© satoberrie 2023 | let me know if i should make a continuation!

[silly-thinkings]

"Let me, go find Damian." (DCeased Story line)

Well well well reader. You've got another choice. Wait, you're totally following along right? Just in case here's (Scene 1)

“Go find Damian.” You traded the suitcase for the shot gun and turned Alfred away. The butler quickly made his way to the bat-jet

Bruce now turned ran towards Alfred but you grabbed his cape pulling him back. Your husband roared as he faced you.

Alfred made eye contact with you. You smile. A bright beautiful smile before running deeper into the cave.

You ran towards one of the confinement rooms and turn around “I love you. I love you so much Bruce.”

You hoped he Heard you. His arm reaching out as he ran towards you. You ducked as he swiped a hand and promptly flipped him into a bullet proof room. With the press of a button you seal the door. Bruce banged on the glass trying to get to you and you felt your tears bubble up again. “I’ll find a cure. Damian will live. He will carry your legacy.”

The space around you shook. Booms could be heard from the city. Maybe it’s being bombed. But you didn’t care. After one last look at your husband you left him trapped there. You ran back to the computer shutting everything down. “Need to find my little ones.” You make your way to one of the moter bikes “computer. Initiate lock down.”

“Yes miss Y/n”

You put your helmet on and you were off.

***

The city burned, but there were still survivors. With your katana you cut down some of the dead as you led a group of about three dozen into the forest.

You were about to head into the city to find more survivors but the Batmobile burst through a crowd of dead. The jokers body strapped to the front of the car. Your confusion quickly turned into joy as your two children, Jason and Cassandra hopped out the vehicle. Gordon was with them but you held onto your kids for dear life. “Your ok. Thank the gods you’re ok. I thought I lost…” you didn’t think you had any more tears to shed. And yet here you were, what’s left of the family hugging each other. You feel Cassandra press her forehead against your neck. Her hand holding onto your cloths tightly. While Jason rested his chin on top of your head. “You’re such a bad ass Ma.” Since you’re alone he realized what’s happened to the rest of the family. He’s no idiot.

You pull away to get a good look at them. You then looked to Gordon “has Barbara…”

Gordon closed his eyes with slight nod.

“Sheesh I thought I got rid of my ex. Look! He’s following me” Harley shouted from the crowd of survivors.

You turn to see Harley and ivy waiting for you to wrap things up.

“Ma? What’s with them.”

You smile “they’re friendly. Apparently the plants like me. Ivy said it was because of the way I treated my garden back at… home.”

Cassandra held your hand. You look to her to see a warm smile. “They’ve been helping me find survivors, we’re going to build a sanctuary. Come.”

You take Jason’s hand “let’s go James. I have no intention of loosing anymore family.”

//Left behind ending//

Congratz! you got 2/3 endings :3 Hope you enjoyed the story. Trying something different and I'm not thinking much of it. This story was a spur of the moment kind of thing XD. Plz leave a a comment and lmk if the links work XD. Appreciate you! and thank you for reading.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Commentary on The Voice In My Earpiece Thinks You're An Idiot

My Jo/Bela heist fic! Yippee! I would recommend reading it yourself first because there will be spoilers in my commentary right off the bat. It's a heist, there are some twists and turns. But you do you.

You MUST look at the artwork for it. It's so beautiful and so carefully thought out!!!

Okay so, let's start with the title. Pretty simple, I wanted to convey that the Jo/Bela relationship was mostly a co-conspirator one in this fic! They bond through being gossipy and mildly challenging through their earpieces ❤️ gay 🧡

My inital notes from my first conceptualisation of this fic:

As you can see. A lot of thought went into making the actual fic lol. And a lot changed!!

Now, onto chapter one!

The rich family Bela's stealing from are called the Pendragals because I felt that Pendragon was a little too on the nose, lol. I often hesitate on putting down specifics of a location, this was [rich snobby party description] for so long. Actually, the whole introduction up to them in the bathroom was something along the lines of [rich snobby party description, Jo fools Bela] until about the midpoint of writing. It was really rough going for the most basic sentences lmao. But! Finally picking a party theme based on how hot Bela would look in a flapper-style dress (I'll talk more about it later!) really helped pull things together.

I don't really know how "Trish" got in like that. It is the luxury of writing from a single point of view, I don't have to know 🥳. I had "Trish" in this get-up to cast a little shade of doubt from the readers as to who she is, although I don't expect to have fooled anyone too far, and to demonstrate that Jo (GASP! IT'S JO! Haha!) when she's dressed fancy later on in a more gender neutral way, it's not because she'd fail at femininity. It's just what she likes lol.

She has long lacey fingerless gloves on to be sexy and also to hide her faded scars 👍

The "family comes first" line is to seed Bela's fears about building a relationship with Jo when she talks about Ellen and Ash.

Also, Bela hates old money in this fic! This is for several reasons: given her background where her old money family directly harmed her, she has cause to distrust them; it makes her more relatable (who from this fandom doesn't hate old money snobs?); it makes her stealing from them personally motivated as well as monetarily; and it puts her more solidly in the same lines class as Jo, despite appearences to the contrary. As suggested below in the "silk stockings" line, among others, despite getting a bigger payout than most, Bela lives job-to-job, same as Jo, due to her expensive tastes (and, for a very long time, her lack of a future due to her demon deal. What would have been the point in her saving anything up?). They're equals!

Bela can be a history snob. As a treat. Haha, she's a supernatural artifact hunter, she HAS to at least enjoy history. I actually spent ages trying to find an authentic 1920s dress that looked how I was stereotypically and inaccurately picturing to send to Bahk as art inspo because initially I'd written that it WAS authentic, and then I was like wait. I can just change what I wrote. Lmao.

Bela believing Jo is unobservant of her surroundings/of her specifically proves to be her undoing several times in this fic lol! Bela anticipates that she's the only one paying attention, but she underestimates the power of having a gay little crush.