#please understand that all being said and jon being my evil son I still hope Two-Face gives him an epic beating

[just-an-enby-lemon]

This is silly and I loved how it went (specially because Harvey needs love and protection and to be far away from Crane) but I wanted more of everyone being completly oblivious that Crane is an horrible person even though he only does the bare minimal to hide it and does it poorly.

I want Oswald to think that codependent basically a puppet Two-Face is actually somehow a progress and he will soon be fine and he is soo happy Crane is helping all while Jon is purposifully making it worse (until maybe Harv snaps because again he deserves better) for no reason but because I think it would be hilarious if Oswald keept trying to hide crime and violence from Crane and acting like a bussiness man while the "good" doctor is actually unapologeticaly evil and is fucking people's minds, killing, maiming, selling drugs and playing creepy songs while doing it.

Maybe Oswald venting to the "good" doctor about his problems with Joker and Batman and more importantly his fears Scarecrow would become a bigger treat and Jonathan as the problem he is offers to make a psychological profille on Scarecrow so Oswald can maybe finally learn his identity. He provides some truthfull information and some actually great profilles on Joker and Batman but a lot of his Scarecrow profile is just him having fun confunding Oswald or even some information that of course he knows but there is no way he could've know just because of his degree like Scarecrow's favorite breakfast or that he likes his coffe black and since Oswald knows nothing about psychology he just thinks is this mysthical superpower thing and is impressed.

Not only that but Jonathan keeps his biggest BTAA superpower: being the most suspicious and creepy person ever who has all the red flag and barely hides it and still people think he is just some inocent civilian somehow.

Basically I want the delusional kingpin his husband the best lawyer ever who is undergoing a several mental breakdown and their pet professional gaslighter who is just fucking them up and of course gaslighting them for science and fun.

[erchommai-a]

demon blood.

trigger warning: abuse mention, gross, scars, etc.

origin.

Lilith, Mother of Demons, was not an easy creature to summon, even with Valentine Morgenstern’s talents and determination. His earlier experimentation had attracted the demon’s attention. And had manipulated certain events to inspire the man to consider her blood for his experiments, hoping that through him, she may finally bear that son that she could never have.

With it came an agreement ─ an alliance that while Valentine had no plans or means to keep, he made regardless. Should his Uprising ( or any others in the future  prove victorious ) it would not only be his Nephilim that should benefit but her included. And the added clause that she would get to watch over Jonathan while Valentine ensured that it could and cannot happen without his direct permission.

Contracts after all are binding intricate dances. Especially when done with the mother of all demons.

childhood.

His birth, for the most part, was normal. He only cried once, on that very night, and then never again. He never smiled. And often, had this knowing expression in his eyes as if he could comprehend the whole world around him, as if he could see the disgust written all over his mother’s eyes everytime she held him. It was the pregnancy with him that was difficult. Jocelyn suffered nightmares ; she suffered deep and unsettling exhaustion mixed with depression. An anxiety that wouldn’t leave her until that night Jonathan was born. A feeling that would only be replaced by disgust and almost fear for the first half of her first born’s life.

Jonathan for the most part was privy to these little things. Memories deeply ingrained in him but never really had full comprehension for it. More like vague nonsensical sequences, no matter how vivid the scenario is inside his head. Jocelyn crying. Green eyes looking down into his. Fingers in his hair. His fingers in her clasped hand. Valentine proudly called him his son. Stories of a grandmother and grandfather. Grand tales of a future to come.

Except for his eyes, by all appearance he looked normal. A quiet boy with advanced motor skills and seemingly quick and adaptive cognitive abilities. But he didn’t speak until he was around two and it was only one word, “Mom.” And he wouldn’t speak again until that fateful night his Father scoops him out of his bed and takes him away.

relationships.

In his youth he wasn’t as volatile or violent towards new people. He found them fascinating and could just stare at them for hours. It was for that very reason that people tend to react to him differently. This child with deep empty soulless eyes just looking up at you, trying to understand what you’re thinking, could be unnerving with his almost complete silence and obvious lack of affect. But generally it was the adults that could pick up on his almost other-worldliness.

Children paid no mind to it. Alec, among the few children of the circle, was considerably his most constant friend due to how close Jocelyn and Maryse had been then. And they often had no issue playing around with each other. So long as Alec doesn't push Jonathan when he doesn’t want to do anything or doesn’t take anything Joanthan considers to be his. Oftentimes, Jon would just sit there and play with his own toys right next to the other kids.

Quiet and contnet with his own company.

Of course, this changed as he grew older. Restricted and practically trapped in solitude, save for the company of his dismissive father ─ his idea of people was easily twisted by Valentine’s Dogma. And his lack of opportunity for actual social practice or basic social understanding forged instead into weaponry and spycraft. Because for the most part, he can be very intuitive in the nature of people. But his childhood has made him very much a cynic towards people. Or humanity as a whole. He doesn’t think anyone or anything is worth saving. He finds chaos to be more fascinating. Morality is muddled whether you lean towards good or bad.

Chaos, to him, could almost be his religion.

physical traits.

The most obvious and significant effect of the demon blood in his system was the black eyes. And by that I literally just mean black pupils. He does not do the whole black eyes thing in my canon verses. It is just deep soulless black eyes that are quite freakishly inhuman but also human. He’s a cryptid.

There’s also a  general sharpness to his whole countenance that he wouldn’t have if the demon blood wasn’t there. Although it’s not really something completely noticeable, or something that ruins the aesthetic of his features, in fact it enhances his looks a lot more. Accentuating the beauty to his features that almost make it unnatural. Cause again, he’s kind of a cryptid.

The best way to picture it is how it's such a direct and obvious contrast to Jace’s beauty. Jace is golden, the sun, absolutely angelic. Jon is raw, sharp, ethereal like the night, absolutely hellish.

nature of the demon blood.

Please take note of this, cause this is such a crucial part to how I play him.

The general philosophy regarding demon blood is plain and simple, it’s a cancer to his soul. It’s not something that had any serious instantaneous effect on him so much that he is inhuman ─ or that he was born demonic or anything like that. He is different. But he isn’t entirely all demon or entirely all human because he has angel blood. He is still Nephilim.

So with it came this effect of diminishing humanity ─ the hell fire inside of him was burning it up in a waythat it wasn’t just purely dependent on how he was raised but the demon blood itself was isolating him from his human traits. The good emotions, empathy, compassion, etc. And influencing him in a way that his aggression and general affinity for violence is louder. So it just amplifies deep dark baser urges that are already within him ─ like his impulse control and fascination with violence and blood lust. They were all only heightened. And you match that with Valentine Morgenstern’s school of learning ─ it builds inside of him a clashing.

Demon versus Human.

A conflict of demon and angel fighting within himself in such a profound way that him, being the one with it, can not tell the difference of how abnormal his physical constitution is. He neither feels it, nor comprehends it. To him it’s a natural state of being. That feeling of conflict inside of him that never goes away. That unbearable loneliness. That insufferable hunger or feeling of emptiness. That absolute soul sucking encompassing black hole that is never sated, never satisfied, never content. It never goes away. It just is. It’s just him.

He has been burning ─ rotting ─ from the inside out since he was born.

With that said ─ at no point does it take away his agency ( because please stop doing that ) to the point that it’s easy to assume that he would be different without demon blood. No, it won’t. The anger in him is something he was born with. That loneliness, he was born with it. He was given as much choice as anyone ─ he could have killed his Father but he didn’t. He could have killed Jace first, without hesitation or second judgement in City of Glass, he didn’t. He didn’t have to kill Max, but he did.

One could argue that he didn’t make the choices with the best capacity or capability to make those decisions, yes, But it doesn’t take away the fact that he made those choices of his own volition. He chose to follow the path that leads to his death.

The demon blood or his demonic nature is not the sole instigator.

But he has done and will do evil things.

morality.

This is just a quick thing because I stand by the notion that he isn’t evil. Not inherently. He has done despicable, heinous, evil things. He has nearly accomplished more devious and horrible crimes. And had he won ─ he could have continued to try to raise the stakes until that deep hole inside of him was filled and satisfied.

Which cruelly would never be sated.

But his intent had never been directly for absolutely malicious intent.

He was built and cultivated towards this prospect because after his first death. It is the only clear and obvious direction for him. Because without his Father’s purpose, he has nothing. Without that legacy to latch onto ─ he has nothing. That and Family has only been the two things Valentine had allowed him to strive for. So in truth, he wouldn’t really know any better.

And if you let him loose, absolutely and purely, on his own whim and want. Things would have ended differently. He would have thrived more beautifully in chaos.

It could have still led to a war. But a fun war. For him anyway.

Quick summary, he isn’t evil for evil sake. Kind of in the same vein, Valentine isn’t inherently evil. He was a villain who thought he was doing what was right, if a little bit over-zealously and like a megalomaniac. But I guess, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. There’s a method to both their madness.

effects and abilities.

infertile. This isn’t really something he knows or directly thinks about. Children, to him, for the most part aren’t like a big deal. But no, he can’t have kids. None of his own anyway.  The demon blood has taken that away. demon connection. Although his connection to Lilith is both in part because it’s her blood specifically that flows through him, it does extend quite a bit to others within the demonic hierarchy. With Lilith, it’s a very specific sort of connection. She can contact him, although with limitations, but she can make her presence very well known to him. In his childhood, she could only maintain it in short instances. Soft reassuring voices in his ears. Little visions. Little dreams. Nothing that could alert Valentine to her presence because of their contract that she is not allowed to see Jon without his permission / supervision. But this connection extends to all other demonic creatures specifically. It doesn’t only offer itself up as a sort of dowsing rod that works both ways ( he can sense them and they can sense him like he’s a beacon ). With that, also comes this understanding. He can speak in demon tongue that is also not just exclusively phonetically but emphatically or telepathically as well in the most natural sense. It was never something he had to study. demon manipulation. This is just an extension of the effects of Lilith’s blood in him. He can influence, to some degree lower tier demons. Order them around based on his blood connection to Lilith. Something that works almost similarly like light hypnotism. But is not overly powerful or overt that he can use it for very long or very often. And only works on the unintelligent breed of demons. blood magic / blood sorcery. There is, inherently, a lot of use for his blood in terms of magic and rituals. His blood being a unique combination of demon and nephilim make it a very powerful conduit or power source for dark magic.  And not only that, his blood is a good supplement to other things like summoning rituals and binding rituals. Summoning circles lined with his blood has a stronger binding energy against demons and may not be exclusive to just demons. ( He has yet to find out, although theoretically can be applied to anyone that falls within the confines of summoning circles. ) It also has  corrosive properties when interacting with objects heavenly by nature. Or some enchanted objects. ( e.g. deactivating the wards. ) demonic blood empowerment. Physically, this technically makes him stronger than jace to a certain degree. Partnered with his training, this makes him absolutely lethal. And both fast and stronger than the majority of shadowhunters. Along with it, is a sense of physical self reliance. The more the influence of the demon blood becomes stronger, the less he has a need for human things. It destroys him spiritually and mentally but it builds him up physically to the point that a lot of what is essential to another person may not be as essential to him. Like physical sustenance is less of a necessity to him which in turn makes him eat less, sleep less, basically do so little of the human things that most people absolutely need. ( e.g. dreaming art, little enjoyments, those sort of things. ) This is also where the advanced nature of his progress in childhood also comes in effect. It helped him adapt to the physicallity of growing up or maturity much faster than a normal child would have. pain supression / resistance. Mostly before LIlith's resurrection, pain to him was a normal affliction. He felt as much as anyone physically could. But again through Valentine Morgenstern school of how to be a monster, he was taught to make himself numb to it through training and with physical abuse, he did. Post Lilith’s resurrection, he was gifted with almost unnatural invincibility. He is more likely to feel the pain now unless it was directly imbued with heavenly fire. This also meant there was no scarring and that he could get stabbed as many times as he liked. Cutting his head off could also work though. If you were fast enough. limitations. For the most part, there are only three things that can effectively hurt / bruise him in a sense. First and foremost is Demon metal, weapons made from these are rare but can leave significant scars on his skin after. And nothing that any known magic or angelic rune had been able to remove. Electrum, can also have similar effects but not as aggravating or as long lasting as demon metal. In pain level, electrum is a lot more tolerable for him than demon metal. And the scars, no matter how deep, are not as permanent as weapons infused with demon metal. Sanctified objects or holy ground can make him feel kind of an allergic reaction. There’s definitely a different energy around them that makes him uncomfortable. Not to the point that it weakens and not even to any significant degree that it hurts him. But they do make him feel weird and kind of aggravate the hell fire in his veins so it’s almost like a fever that’s just there. Or an itch that he cannot scratch. Anything imbued with heavenly fire directly however can be excruciating to him.  magic. To some degree, he has an affinity for it. He can be very talented with magic. It’s something innate and he can be very  intuitive with. More so than his own father, from whom he learned nearly all the spells that are within his arsenal. However, he isn’t as in tune with it so to speak, spiritually, as he is with his weapons. It’s why even when he has the ability for most things like basic healing spells, tracking spells, etc, he still prefers to use his shadowhunter training and weapons. But he does have a working understanding of how to use and conjure magic for himself. He just doesn’t. edom magic. I thought I should separate this just to emphasize that edom was gifted to him by lilith. Edom is his and hers domain. There is nothing he or she can not build or unravel or undo or make or destroy within the confines of that universe. He is, within its world, by all means a god. It does not however mean he is omniscient or omnipotent within it. It just means every grain of sand and every single atom within the confine of said universe is his to control. wings. This is absolutely just me indulging myself because I live for the aesthetic. This comes about after the bond between him and Jace is broken in COLS. A part of Lilith’s gift. To expound on the image or her goal for her son too to be hell’s knight so to speak. An absolute bastardization of angels with his demon blood and angel blood, so voila, wings. They are dark and sharp, the wings fade from white to gray to black, right at his shoulder blades, where they connect to his skin. Blood red vains stretch from his skin to the arch of his wings.  They are retractable and can be easily hidden within his skin or just through plain glamour magic. ( Cause you know, still kind of a cryptid. Just a pretty cryptid. ) Outside of some ability for flight, they don’t offer him much protection. They work more like an extra appendage. And something that stays with him in post-cohf verses although they appear more withered then and scarred. They also appear as fresh new scars, that cover over a small part of his shoulder blade as well as over the lines of scars from his whipping across his back.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

Guardian Angel

Part 2

Summary: After Lord Commander Mormont allowed you to stay, you started to train with Jon Snow. When he hears about his father’s death and that his brother Robb was about to wage a war against the Lannisters, he tried to leave the night’s watch. Luckily, you were able to stop him and convince him to stay.

Guardian Angel Series

Taglist

A/N: y/h/t= your hometown.

Word Count: 1614.

“Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean that you have to go easy on me” you told Jon as you began your first training session.

“If I hurt you, who’s going to fix your wounds? And the men here will start making jokes”.

“If you don’t, I will hurt you” you threatened.

“You can try”.

You lunged the sword at him but he evaded it quickly. You swung the sword at him again and he blocked the attack easily.

“These swords are heavier than I expected. I’m gonna get muscle cramps from this, aren’t I?” You pouted.

“What?” Jon did not understand half the things you say, but he knows nothing, so you felt it was normal for him.

“Nothing. It’s your turn to attack first”.

“As you wish” he almost struck you down, but you managed to defend yourself at the last moment.

“Jeez! A little warning next time!”.

“The enemy will not give you a warning. They will strike and kill you mercilessly”.

“You should try to relax. Brooding and being serious all the time isn’t going to change anything and it will probably lead to some health problems” you advised.

“How do you always manage to find a reply to everything I say?” He wondered.

“Because unlike you, I know some things”.

“What does that mean?”.

“See, like I said… you know nothin, Jon Snow!... oh wait, shit! It’s too early, I’m not supposed to say that, it’s not my line” you started talking to yourself.

“You are confusing me” he informed you.

“Oh, sorry! Just forget everything I said, okay? I mean alright? Let’s continue”.

After ten minutes of training, you were exhausted and out of breath.

“Alright, let’s call it a day”.

“Call it a day?” He was confused again.

“Uhm, stop for the day and continue tomorrow” You elaborated.

“You are a very odd woman. I’ve never heard someone use words you use” he exclaimed.

“That’s because you’ve never been to y/h/t”.

“Y/h/t? Where is that?”.

“In a galaxy far far away” you whispered “uhm, it’s so far away from here, that no one’s ever heard of it” you tried the best you can to explain.

“Right! I still don’t trust you, you know!” He informed you.

“Hopefully, the time will come”.

—-

“Lord Commander! I just wanted to thank you for letting me stay… I couldn’t help but notice you’ve received a letter. It’s bad news, isn’t it?” You asked.

“It is”.

“King’s Landing? Is Ned Stark dead?”.

“Not yet, but he’s been charged with treason”.

“I’ll leave you to it then. You have some bad news to deliver”.

“Can I come in?” You knocked on Jon’s door.

“What do you want?”.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing. I’m sorry about your father. He was a great man”.

“Was? You don’t know anything about my father”.

“He’s being executed as we speak. King Joffrey the bastard beheaded him. It’s true I’ve never met him, but I know a lot of things about your father. I know he’s an honorable man and he’s true to his words. If it makes you feel any better, he’s not a traitor. He discovered the truth about the Lannisters, so that’s their way of keeping their secret” you tried to comfort him.

“Did you know he was going to die?”.

“Uh, yes. Long time ago, before I even met you”.

“Then why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve stopped it”.

“That’s not how this works. It’s not simple, I can’t just tell everyone what I know about their future. For me it’s the past and it shouldn’t be tampered with. If you change one thing in the past you end up altering the present and the future. Some things would cease to exist. Even if I told you, you couldn’t have stopped it. They would’ve killed you too. Besides, your duty lies here now. What I can tell you though is, that this isn’t the worst thing that will happen to you”.

“Is that supposed to make it any better?”.

“No, but now you know. Sometimes, the truth isn’t what we want to hear”.

“I’d like to be alone now”.

“Of course. I’m sorry” just as you were about to leave Jon’s chambers, Ghost started to growl and tried to open the door.

“Ghost, what’s wrong?” Is there something out there?”.

“Here we go again. Zombies” you muttered to yourself, knowing what’s coming next as you left his chambers.

—-

“I heard about what happened. How’s your hand?” You came to check on him the next day after the incident with one of the wights.

“You mean you knew. Maester Aemon says I’ll be able to use my hand soon” he informed you.

“You should’ve come to me. New Sword. From Lord Commander Mormont? Long Claw” you smiled.

“Can you stop doing that, please?”.

“Do what?”.

“Saying things that you’re not even supposed to know”.

“Being creepy, you mean. Yes, I’m sorry! From now on, I’ll keep my mouth shut and pretend not to know anything. Can we start again?”.

“Alright”.

“Hello, I’m Y/n… Vallaerys” you lied “I come from a place called y/h/t but I can never go back. I don’t know how I got here or why, so now I have to make this place my new home” that was the truth.

“Jon Snow. Bastard son of Lord Eddard Stark and now a sworn brother of the night’s watch. This is my home”.

“A please to meet you Jon” you bowed.

“I’m sorry I was mean to you earlier” he apologized.

“As I said, new beginning”.

—-

“Hey, Sam!” You greeted.

“Y- you know my name?”.

“Yeah, you’re Samwell Tarly. The first man to kill a White Walker in a thousand years and Jon Snow’s best friend” you sat next to him.

“A White Walker? I can’t even use a sword properly” he chuckled.

“Haha, right. Too soon, Y/n. Too soon” you awkwardly laughed. “Hey what’s wrong?” You noticed the change in Sam’s facial expressions.

“It’s uhm- nothing” he lied.

“Sam, I know that’s not true. Come on, we’re friends, right?”.

“We are?”.

“Yes, we are. Now tell me what is it?”.

“I’m really not supposed to say”.

“Oh shit! Is this about Robb?” you remembered.

“H- how did you know?”.

“You have to tell Jon” you ordered.

“I can’t. I’m not supposed to”.

“He’s your best friend and he deserves to know. I won’t say a word. It’s your choice” you left him to contemplate.

—

“Get up, we have to go now!” You entered Sam, Pyp and Grenn’s chambers and woke them up.

“What are you doing here?”.

“You’re not allowed in here”.

“No is not the time. Jon has left and you- we have to stop him, now come on! We don’t have much time” you demanded and they did as you asked.

When Jon heard you coming after him, he made the horse go faster. Sam, being clumsy fell of his horse after he clashed against a tree branch. You gathered around Sam to see if he was alright and Jon turned the horse back and came to check on Sam.

“We’re taking you back where you belong” Pyp told him.

“I belong with my brother”.

“We’re your brother now” Sam reminded him.

“They’ll kill you if they find out you’ve gone” Grenn remarked.

“They’ll kill you if they know you came after me. Ho back!” Jon ordered.

“Sam and Y/n told us everything. We’re sorry about your father-“.

“But it doesn’t matter you took the oath, you can’t leave”.

“I have to”.

“You can’t! You said the words”.

“I don’t care about-“.

“Hear my word and bear witness to my vow” Sam reminded.

“To hell with all of you! Y/n aren’t you going to say something?” He looked at you, hoping you’d be on his side and help him.

“As much as I want you to reunite with your brother, you can’t. They’re right. This isn’t how your journey goes” you replied.

“Night gathers and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I should live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. The watcher on the walls. The shield that guards the realm of men. I pledge my life and honor to the night’s watch, for this night and all the nights to come” they recited and you picked his sword from the ground and handed it to him.

“This is your home”.

—-

“What’s going on?” You woke up to the sound of men preparing to leave.

“We’re going beyond the wall. To find uncle Benjen” Jon informed you.

“Alright, give me a minute. I’ll be right back”.

“You’re not coming with us. You’re not ready” Mormont refused.

“I am ready. Tell him Jon”.

“He’s right, you’re not”.

“Listen to me, you need me. There are things beyond the walls that you’ve never seen before. There are things I know that you don’t. I will be useful to you and you know it” you whispered to Jon.

“My Lord, I believe that in order for her to be ready, she needs to experience and what better way than going beyond the wall with us?” He suggested.

Mormont looked at you for a moment then at him “alright, but if anything happens to her, it’s your responsibility”.

“I am my own responsibility. Why do you keep treating me like a helpless lost child” you muttered to yourself.

If anything bothered you about living in this world, it wasn’t the White Walkers, the cold or evil. It was sexism and the way women were treated.

Tags: @simonsbluee @irishfaulk97 @lesbianismybitchname

[millysaurusrex]

Heartbreak Warfare

When the snows settle and the shock of survival sets in, Gendry finds himself in the Winterfell forge. There is no need for weapons now, at least, not until they ride South, but it is the one place that makes him feel some semblance of normalcy.

Normal. He's not quite sure what that word means anymore. The world as he knew it had gone topsy turvy ever since Master Mott had woken him from his sack one morning declaring that he now belonged to the Night's Watch. Four moons ago, he was back in the slums of King's Landing. Now, he has fought an army of the dead, is a King's son, is now the Lord of his father's ancestral home - is this his new normal?

He stares into the burning coals of the forge and tries to think about the days before he'd come North. It helps stave off the cold to think about the heat of King's Landing. The North is cold - a cruel, unforgiving cold that seeps into your bones, no matter how many layers of leather and fur one wore. In the heat of the forge, he can almost pretend he is there again, on the Street of Steel, mending armor for Lannister soldiers. It's a fantasy that isn't particularly pleasant. The Lannisters were enemies - enemies to his father, enemies to the Starks, and he hadn't exactly been living in luxury during his days there. But, pretending he's back there, far from this place and the battle he's just survived, he can almost forget about her.

He’s an idiot, he knows. She’s said it enough times and he’s once again proved her right. What made him think that she would choose him? So, he’s a lord now, with a fancy title and a nice large keep by the sea - it doesn’t matter. It’s never mattered to Arya. He could be a no named bastard smith living in the slums of Flea Bottom, or a King’s son, fighting alongside her noble born brother. It doesn’t matter who he is, it’s who she is not.

He wants to laugh. Wants to cry. But he settles for beating a discarded breastplate in the forge until it cracks and crumbles and becomes more useless than it was before. It’s okay. He knows angry. He likes angry. Anger is something he’s felt since he was a child. Anger at the way the world treated him due to his circumstances, anger at the way highborns sold and traded him like he was cattle. Anger is something natural to him, if all the stories of King Robert’s fury are true.

So, he beats his hammer against one item after the next, not caring about the mess he’s made or the protest his muscles make as the hours tick by. He can deal with the physical pain even if his body is still fatigued from the battle. He won’t stop because if he stops then he thinks of her, thinks of her mouth, warm, as he kissed her, thinks of her face when she refused his proposal.

He wants to be mad at her. Wants to think that of course she turned him down- he was too bloody lowborn to be kin to my lady, high - but he knows that’s not true. He’d seen it in her eyes, the way they’d crumbled when he sank to one knee, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a drunken frenzy. No, he cannot blame her for turning him away. And that angers him all the more. Because what did he think, that just because they had shared a night together, that just because he had been given a title by a foreign queen, that she would somehow see him differently? She had told him that she just wanted to know what it was like being with a man. He'd taken the softness in her eyes, the way she pulled him flush against her to mean that maybe, just maybe, she wanted him the way he wanted her - by his side, forever and ever. But, he's a fool, because that's not her - she's not a lady, not one to settle down with some man. She's the Breaker of the Dawn, the Slayer of the Night, and she doesn't need a bastard-blacksmith-turned-Lord. He cannot fault her for that.

He can, however, be angry that she left without another word. He’d grown used to her presence since arriving in Winterfell, and he knew, just knew she was gone. She’d not said a word to anyone, if the harried look on her sister’s face meant anything, or the way Jon called her name well into the night. He wants desperately to look for her, to follow Jon into the woods that surrounded Wintertown, but he does not. If she has left, she does not want to be found. And he stays in his forge and waits until it is time to head south to join what is left of the Dragon Queen’s army.

He could sit this one out. Jon tells him so. He could go to Storms End, take his ancestral home. He deserves it.

But the idea of sitting in an unfamiliar castle tastes sour in his mouth and the thought of losing himself in the carnage of another war sounds better, and his fingers itch for the bloody, deadly fight that’s sure to come when they take back the Kingdoms from the evil Lannister queen. He’d like to bash her head in with his hammer, he thinks. He’s fantasized about it, about standing over her as she looks on in terror, thinking Robert’s ghost had come back to haunt her. And all that rage, all the pain and suffering he’d endured just because she was a jealous, vile woman - he’d make her suffer. And oh - what a sweet suffering it would be.

He runs a hand across his face, wondering just when his thoughts had gotten so dark. He never used to think this way, about murder and bloodshed. Maybe this was what war did to a person. What suffering did.

Either way, he doesn’t mind. He likes it. It spurns him on, keeps him going, keeps him alive. And right now, life is just about survival. Survive one war to fight the next. Survive each and every night until the gods no longer see you fit to walk this earth.

As he travels south, he steadies his mind on the task at hand. They may have survived the dead but they still have Cersei's army to contend with. She has the golden company and Euron Greyjoy's fleets, or so Jamie Lannister says. He doesn't know much of anything about the golden company nor the Kraken Pirate's army, but he knows King's Landing, knows the goldcloaks and the Lannister army. He'd armed them, been around them for years. He'd overheard them talk about the dragon queen and what they hoped to do to the Northerners. He'd watched as the Sept of Balor erupted in green flames, heard the screams of those locked within. He'd heard the Lannister soldiers laugh about that, too.

He may not be a war strategist like Jon or Davos or the Unsullied leader, but he knows just how dangerous the Lannister queen is. She may just be a woman, seemingly so insignificant after what they've just endured, but he knows better than to underestimate Cersei. There is nothing she wouldn't do if it meant she could keep her golden crown.

.

When they reach Dragonstone, Jon requests his presence in the council room. It's a dark, drab room, and a large table carved in stone to show a map of Westeros sits grandly in the middle. He's seen it before, when the Red Witch had brought him to Stannis. He involuntary grimaces, the way he always does when he thinks about that night so many years ago. That had been the only time he'd ever met a family member and it's not exactly a fond memory.

Jon clears his throat and Gendry realizes that the King in the North has said something that he's missed.

"Pardon, your grace?"

"I asked if you would come join us." Jon motions toward the table which is surrounded by the new Dothraki leader, the Unsullied captain, the Imp and Lord Varys. The dragon queen stands at the window, her back to them. Gendry blinks.

"M'lord, I'm no war strategist, I don't understand -"

"No, but you fought along side me, same as any other man at this table. And you're a lord now and so your place is here."

He wants to argue but Jon fixes him with that small smile, the one that says 'please shut up, and just do it,' a mixture of exasperation and appreciation. He knows that look. He's seen it on Arya's face a thousand times over the years. She’d looked at he or Hot Pie that way whenever either of them said something particularly stupid. She'd given it to him when she requested her weapon. He swallows that thought and nods before joining Jon at the table.

“They have taken down one of the dragons and Cersei now has Euron Greyjoy’s fleet. They haven’t nearly as many of the Iron Born since Yara Greyjoy has taken back the Iron Islands, but they still have the Golden Company.” Jon says, motioning toward the stone map.

“How many men fight for the Golden Company?” Queen Daenerys asks, although she has not looked away from her place at the window. Gendry isn’t sure how he feels about the dragon queen. She’s beautiful, it’s true, but there is a coldness to her that he cannot quite name, and even her kindest actions hold a sense of threat. He had seen it in her eyes the night she had named him Lord of Storm’s End and it makes his insides churn when he thinks too hard about her reasoning. He’s learned well enough by now that highborns never do anything out of pure kindness. Except maybe Jon.

“Nearly ten thousand, your grace.” Ser Davos says. Gendry grimaces. Ten thousand and at least five thousand Iron Born. Already the army is twice their size and that doesn’t include the Westerosi who fight for her.

“Why would a foreign army fight for a Lannister queen?” Daenerys asks, finally turning from the window. Her strange purple eyes are hard as steel. Gendry can’t blame her. She’s lost so much already. He's felt the steel harden inside him as well.

“Well, enough gold can make a man do just about anything. And the Lannisters have lots of it.”

“And they are backed by the Iron Bank as well.” Lord Varys says, his voice smooth and cool, but the indecision in his eyes evident. Everyone seems to be on their toes and it makes Gendry all the more uneasy.

“But they are sellswords, are they not?” Queen Daenerys asks. She looks at Jon for a moment before turning to Lord Tyrion. “In my experience, it isn’t too difficult to sway the allegiance of men who fight for gold.”

“Yes, your grace, but the men of the Golden Company are not like other sellswords.” Davos says, his hands ever clasped behind his back. “They are notoriously reliable and have never been known to break a contract. Their leader, Harry Strickland, is as honorable a man as any.”

“You know him?” Queen Daenerys’ voice is hard and accusatory. Davos pauses, glancing at Gendry and then her, before answering.

“Yes, but only briefly. They came to Storm’s End, many years ago, to make treaty with Stannis Baratheon.”

Gendry raises an eyebrow. It is still strange to hear about his uncle, and even stranger to remember that his uncle was the same man who wanted his blood to be king. He doesn’t miss how Queen Daenerys’ eyes slit to him before moving to Davos.

“And what about Cersei’s army?”

“While we were fighting in the North, their army has had time to rest and build and train.” Jon says, sliding an uneasy look at the queen. “Who knows how many soldiers she’s gathered.”

Gendry speaks before he can catch himself. “At least eight thousand, your grace.”

Jon, Queen Daenerys, Davos and all other eyes turn to him. He feels his face warm and prickle. He moves closer to the table to stand beside Davos. “When I was in King’s Landing, I armed the Lannister army. I got to know them, listened to them talk while they looked around my shop. Last I heard, they had eight thousand soldiers.”

Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his tired face. “So, that’s eight thousand Lannisters, five thousand Iron Born and ten thousand men from the Free Cities. All men who are loyal to the Lannisters.” The heaviness of the situation is evident and Gendry squirms in his boots. Somehow, this is worse than the threat of the dead army.

Queen Daenerys seems to contemplate the situation before raising a brow.

“If their honor will not convince them to our side, then they can die with their honor, with the rest of them. To hells with all this waiting. I will fly Drogon to the Red Keep and burn it to the ground, with every single one of her soldiers and their honor.” The word sounds like a curse as she spits it out, and rage forms in her violet eyes.

“Your grace, Cersei has opened the gates into the keep. There are thousands of common folk there. You cannot –” Queen Daenerys’ slams her hands on the stone window and she turns to face her Hand with unbridled rage.

“I can and I will. I have followed your guidance, Lord Tyrion. I took my men to Winterfell to fight the Northern battle and lost over half my men. I took my dragons beyond the wall for the Northern cause and lost one to the dead. I have waited as year after year has passed by while Cersei sits on my throne. I am through waiting. I will take what is mine with fire and blood.”

The room is quiet. Gendry stares at the Queen, his mouth ajar. She intends to burn them all, he realizes with a jolt and stories he’d heard of her father, the Mad King, flood through his mind. Stories of dragon fire and burning flesh that adults told naughty children to keep them in line. Truth be told, when he had first met the dragon queen, he had not seen any resemblance to her father. She had a kindness about her that he hadn’t expected from the tales he’d been told of the Targaryans. But looking at her now, her pretty face twisted in ugly fury, he wonders if he sees a spark of the madness.

It is Jon who speaks next and he calmly steps to the queen, touching her shoulder with unexpected familiarity. “Dany, we will take your throne.” His words are careful and kind, but stern. “But, we cannot let thousands of innocents die for Cersei Lannister. Remember what I told you, out there on the beaches?” He motioned his head toward the window. “Remember I told you that if you bring fire and destruction that you are not any different. And what the Seven Kingdoms needs most now is someone different.”

Queen Daenerys is quiet for a moment and Gendry takes a breath. It almost seems as if Jon is able to convince her – until she speaks again.

“Someone like you?”

And at once it seems like all the air has been sucked out of the room despite the large, open windows. Everyone freezes, Gendry included. The accusation in the queen’s voice is clear, and she marches away from Jon who is staring at her open mouthed and wide eyed.

“Dany, I-”

“It doesn’t matter.” She snaps. “Every minute we spend here arguing about what move to make is another minute that usurper sits on the throne. You can join me, or you can stay here and debate your honor, but I am through with waiting. My army has been slaughtered. My children have been shot down like cattle. Jorah is dead and Missandei is dead. I will not wait another moment longer.”

And with that she marches from the room and the silence is deafening.

.

That night, as he sits in the room the queen has given him – a room nicer than any room he’s ever had – he thinks. He thinks about the pending war, thinks about the fury in the dragon queen’s eyes. She has lost so much. He cannot imagine the pain she must have felt watching her friend slaughtered before her eyes. He knows pain. He's felt it all his life, having everyone he's ever loved taken from him. His mother, who's face he can barely recall but who's soft hands and warm voice penetrates his memory, had been taken by fever. He'd grown to respect and look to Mott as a father figure, and he'd been cast away - or not cast away, but spirited away to protect him. He'd finally learned he had a family, only to remember that they were all dead. And Arry, Arya, the scrawny little girl pretending to be a boy in the wake of a seemingly endless war...He'd thought he'd lost her once, to the Frey's at the Red Wedding, alongside her lord brother. But, there she'd been, in Winterfell, taller, cleaner than he'd ever seen her. More beautiful. And they had shared a moment together that would forever be burned into his memory. But, now she was gone as well and he was once again all alone. Yes, he can imagine the queen's pain.

And right then, he feels guilty for the pain that has gripped his heart, feels guilty for feeling sorry for himself. His thoughts of Arya - playing their last moments together over and over in his head - seems foolish now. He could very well die tomorrow – die in the same shithole he had been born in - and here he is pining away after a girl that was never really his to begin with. The anger that radiated off the queen and Jon’s look of concern - it is clear that they may have won the war against the dead, and they might win the Great War – but the fighting will never be over. His dreams of grey eyes and a wolfish grin suddenly do nothing to warm him.

He has it all, has everything he could have ever asked for - a name, a title, a home - but of course, it means nothing without her. Lord of the Stormlands or bastard blacksmith, without her he doesn’t have what really matters - family. None of it matters now, though. She's spoken her peace and disappeared, and he doesn't know if he'll ever see the grey eyed Stark again.

But, he'll survive. He's survived the slums of Flea Bottom. Survived the nightmare that was Harrenhal. He survived the Red Witch and the seas around Dragonstone. He survived beyond the Wall and the Battle of the Dawn. Baratheons are survivors. He can survive this as well.

[g-on-ef]

Why the bad things Happen to the good people

Fandom: Super Sons, DC Batman, DC Superman

Parings: Damijon, Birdflash, TimKon, JayRoy, BatCat, Clark/Lois, BluePulse 

Characters: Damian Wayne, Jon Kent, Wally West, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Connor Kent, Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Bruce Wayne, Seline Kyle, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Jaime Reyes, Bart West

{Inspired by Empire's song Good People. The words in italic are part of the song.

A/N: So this is a two part story that I wrote because I was bored and wanted to try something new, now fair warnings this story is rated E for graphic displays of violence, murdering, character death, and sexual content {that will be show in flashbacks in the next chapter}, I should also mention that this story will have mpreg just because I want it ^^ anywhore enjoy this story and let me know if I should update the second part tomorrow. Also to those who sent me prompts I plan on posting them tomorrow so be on the look out for that. Okay now on with the show ^^

Summary: Instead of Clark killing Lois and their baby he accidently kills Damian, as well as his unborn Granddaughter. Heartbroken and full of range Jon decides that the world no longer needs the Justice League instead it needs new heroes’ ones who aren't afraid to cross the line. Jason was right you can't defeat crime you can only control it. He and a new team take over and show the so call heroes how easy it is for the good guys to win when they are no longer playing by the rules

 Sometimes it's hard to pray, sometimes it's hard to keep your faith when it's always being tested, you try to stay strong, you continue believing that everything you've done was worth your sacrifice and continue living in a fantasy world, but reality keeps crashing in, finding ways to destroy the illusions that your heart has created to fool your mind making you see the world for what it really is, and then you realize, you are no longer a kid living in a fantasy dream, that the real world is full of dangers, and death is always taking something from you even when you work on the side of good and do good deeds the world still finds a way to punish you.

 Sometimes it's hard to stay grateful, you wanted to be a hero, but no ever told you the price you had to pay was the death of a love one. No one warned you of the consequences, the sacrifices you had to make. The people you would lose.

 It's painful, hurts so bad you put on a mask of ferocity to show the world show them that despite what it threw at you, you are still the man of steel, the strongest warrior to ever exist, after all you not only killed your grandfather who claimed to be the strongest man alive but you brought fear into the ones who once protected the Earth and were once known as Gods. The ones responsible for the death of your family, your soul's mate. Because you never want them to see you break, never want them to see that despite being the strongest man alive you're still a broken boy.

Crying for help. Begging the heavens to return what was once yours.

 Sometimes it's hard to breathe You rule the world with an iron fist, despite the fact that you feel like you are drowning in your thoughts, you feel like the darkness is trying to claw it's way up to drag you to the abyss and keep you as it's prisoner. You are tired of living with Demons because they are always inviting more and with Demons come the ghosts, the ones that have chained you to the past and refuse to set you free. Sometimes you don't want to be free because the demons, the ghosts, they may haunt your future but they still bring you memories of the past and you are okay with that.

It's hard to keep goin' He remembers, he'll always remember, the day that ruined his life but also changed it.

Jon remembers the message from his father, remembers the dreaded look that clouded his father's eyes as he told him that his father-his birth father-his was still alive.

He remembers how terrified he looked to not only know his biological father is alive but that he is an evil man who wants to destroy the earth.

He remembers it all.

After the meeting with both the Justice League and the Teen Titans Jon decided now was a good time to head back home, despite his father, Batman, and Wonder Woman wanting to speak to him, the young hybrid wanted to leave the Watchtower and go home.

Entering the coordinates to his safe house Jon was teleported back home before either of the big three could talk to him.

When he arrived the first thing he did was headed for his room, once inside he saw his beautiful husband sleeping in their bed.

Damian Wayne-Kent was everything Jon wanted and more. When they were younger the two hated each other hell Jon was certain that they would kill each other, if it weren't for their parents they probably would.

As the years passed on the two's mutual hate slowly turned to mutual respect to trusting one another, to a strong friendship to them falling in love and getting married and starting a family together.

The marriage was a secret, just like their relationship kept from everyone except their brothers. They were the only ones who knew about their relationship and marriage.

"You're being creepy,"

Jon was startled to hear the velvet sound of his husband, he watched as his angel got up from bed; he then grabbed a shirt that was on the floor and put it on.

If Jon had to guess it was his especially since it was a little longer than his body. Damian walked over to his beloved before he wrapped his arms around his neck. Jon responded by wrapping his own arms around Damian's waist and pulled him closer to his body. Enjoying this peaceful moment that they rarely had.

Both Jon and Damian jumped a little when they felt a little kick between them.

They pulled back a little making Jon laugh as he placed his hand on Damian's stomach.

"Looks like she's an active one, isn't she?"

Damian rolled his eyes fondly as he placed his own hands on top of Jon's.

"She's been keeping me up all night, not to mention she's always craving chicken!"

Jon had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing.

"She wants chicken?"

"Yes, and cheeseburgers, beef, tacos, and meat! She wants meat Kent! I'm just glad that she doesn't want pork,"

Jon chuckled a little, he knew his husband was 100% vegetarian and refused to eat pork since he was Arabic. Still he decided to less Damian's burden a little.

He bend down and kissed his belly before whispering,

"Hello Amiera, it's daddy. I hope you had a good day with Baba, now I know baba has weird eating habits," this earned him a smack from his husband making Jon laugh.

"But you need to try to be a little easy on him okay? He maybe a strong and powerful person but he's not use to carrying a half kryptonian baby so please be gentle with him,"

The kicking stopped making Jon look up to his angel who just laughed as he bend down and kissed Jon's forehead.

"You are such a sap,"

He then placed a hand on top of Jon’s who smiled softly at their joined hands.

"And you are gonna be a daddy's little girl,"

Jon laughed as he brought Damian’s hand to his lips and gave it a gentle kiss before his oceanic eyes met Damian’s emerald jewels.

"I love you, forever and always,"

"And way pass eternity,"

The two kissed one another enjoying their moment of peace before it all came crashing down.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

 "Kill him, he's your enemy," Clark heard the whisper and he had to agree this man, this creature was going to kill Jon, Lois, everyone he cared about. He would not let that happen.

He heard a voice, telling him to stop, begging him not to, but he ignore it he kept attacking the enemy trying to defeat it. It wasn't until someone punched him hard in the jaw that he finally came to reality.

Clark shook his head to clear the fog that had cloud it, slowly the fog was lifting as he crashed down to reality looking up he saw in horror as his son cradled the battered body of his best friend's son.

He looked around him to see Bruce, Dick, Jason, Kon and Tim as well as the entire Justice League with the Teen Titans staring in horror as the youngest robin was clinging to life. His son, slowly cupping his cheek and whipping off the blood that was covering his face.

"Damian, oh my, you're gonna be fine okay, you’re gonna be fine," Jon said trying hard not to show weakness but finding it hard to do as he held onto his husband's body, as he moved his hands from his cheek to the top of his tummy, his heart broke when he felt a flat stomach. He felt his heart breaking as he could feel his husband’s bloody hand covering his own.

"Jo-Jon..."

"Yes?"

Damian tried to reach for his face with his free hand but it was taking all his strength to reach for him Jon grabbed his hand and placed it on his face he turned his face and kissed it, ignoring the blood that was on it. Trying his best to comfort his beloved.

"Our...our baby...I can't, can't feel our baby, where is my baby? Where is our baby," his voice cracked at the end, despite his heart rate slowing down Jon could hear it speeding up a little a sign of pure panic that Damian was feeling, Jon closed his eyes as tears fell from his eyes, becoming a part of Damian's own tears and mixing in with his blood.

"I'm sorry Dami, I'm so sorry, I couldn't protect you or our baby,"

Damian’s emerald green eyes met his blue ones a heartbreaking sob escaped his lips, he could feel himself slowly slipping away, this wasn’t supposed to happen, he wasn’t supposed to die again. He was supposed to live with Jon and their baby, he didn’t want to die, not now not like this. He didn’t want to leave Jon, he needed to stay, to at least have the chance to tell him how much he loved him and how he shouldn’t blame his father for what’s happened. Jon needed to know, needed to understand that he didn’t blame Clark, that he only hopped that Jon didn’t either.

"Jon I, I" whatever Damian was going to say will never be known to Jon because in that moment, that horrible heart breaking moment Damian Wayne-Kent was gone.

“Dami? Dami, please open your eyes please Damian don’t leave me!” the boy of steel shouted as he shook Damian’s corpse.

Jon listen carefully to Damian’s heartbeat, praying to every God out there that his angel was alive, that this was some cruel joke that the League was playing on him and Damian would open his eyes again and Jon will have the chance to see those jade eyes once again.

“Damian please, open your eyes please don’t leave me. I’ll do it, I’ll give up being Super-boy, I’ll, I’ll stop fighting crime and putting my life in danger anything you want but please, I’m begging you DON’T LEAVE ME!” Jon begged to Damian’s corpse.

It never happened, Damian’s eyes did not open, the League did nothing but watch as Jonathan Kent, son of Superman, boy of steel broke down and cried at the lost of not only his beloved Damian, but their daughter as well.

“Bruce…what…what did I do?” Clark stared as his little boy held onto the corpse of his best friend crying his poor heart out.

“The Joker, he…he drugged you, tried to get you to kill Lois and your daughter but…but Damian…he…he,”

The fog that clouded his mind was slowly disappearing clearing his head of any confusion that he was currently feeling, memories of past events creeped their way as pieces of the missing puzzle were slowly putting themselves together creating the image of Clark being poison and attacking Damian as he tried to defend Lois and Martha.

He saw how he fought Damian, attacking him; he remembers Damian’s pleas to stop to not attack his belly, which he didn’t understand why but when he said it Clark attacked it, showing his stomach no mercy.

Clark felt sick to his stomach as he watched his son and their friends trying to stop him but he was able to stop them, he sees his son trying to get to Damian but Clark stops him by freezing him, he sees it all, his body attacking everything and anything that was protecting Damian it wasn’t until his boy punched him with brass knuckles that contain Kryptonite that he finally stopped attacking Damian. But it was too late, Damian Wayne was already clinging to life trying hard not to fall into Death’s embrace, for the second time in his life.

“Oh my God Bruce, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…I…I,”

Bruce didn’t know what to say, he wanted to be mad, he wanted to yell and hurt Clark in any way but he didn’t, he couldn’t. Damian died protecting Lois and Martha, he gave his life protecting Jon’s mother and little sister, Damian was willing to do anything to protect them. Even at the cost of his own life.

Yes it broke his heart and crushed his spirit to lose his son but he had to remember that Damian was a hero, willing to sacrifice anything and everything for those he cared about.

“It’s okay Clark Damian gave his life to protect your family, I know that Damian wouldn’t want you to blame yourself, that he-“

“Don’t,” Jon growled as he continued to hold onto the body of his dead husband his hand resting on top of his once round belly, where his little princess once rested in.

“What?” Bruce asked looking at the son of Superman.

“Don’t you dare speak his name!” Jon yelled as he glared at not only Batman and Superman but the entire Justice League as well.

How could Bruce be so calm about this? Clark killed Damian and instead of being pissed he was calm? Did he not care for Damian? Did he not care that his own flesh and blood was dead?

Jon mentally slapped himself, of course Bruce didn’t care, if he did he would feel the same anger that he was feeling, but who was he fooling? Bruce was never a father to Damian, Dick was Damian’s father, Dick was the one who was there for Damian when he needed him. Glaring at Bruce the boy of steel said,

“You never cared about him! He was nothing but a nocuous to you! You have no right to say what Damian would want or wouldn’t want! You never even gave a damn about him so SHUT THE FUCK UP! And keep Damian’s name out of your mouth.

“Jon don’t-“

“And you,”

Jon glared at the man he once worshipped, the one he idolized and wished he grew up to be like him; a hero, a father, a loving husband. Now Jon wanted nothing more than to end his life.

“You killed him, you killed my HUSBAND AND MY DAUGHTER!”

“I did what?” Clark asked praying to God that his misunderstood his son, that what Jon said was a case of a misunderstanding and he was just hearing things, that he was not only responsible for the death of Damian who was Jon’s husband-which he had no knowledge of-but the death of his grandchild.

“You killed my family, you…you…MURDER!”

In a split-second Jon was on top of his so call father and punching him as hard as he could. Clark could easily push him off hell he could have easily stop his son’s attack but didn’t because it wasn’t Jon hitting him that was breaking his heart and stopping him from defending himself but the words that he threw at him that were cutting deeper than any knife could and hurting him more than any physical attack ever could.

“Murder! You killed the love of my life! My husband! MY DAUGHTER! You took away my family! Robbed them of their lives! Rot in hell you piece of shit! I hate you. I. Hate. You!”

The boy of steel continue to attack his father showing him no mercy, he wanted him to hurt, to feel the pain and suffering that Jon was currently feeling.

Damian…his beloved was gone, and so was their baby; the only reminder he had left of Damian, both gone

Jon was pulled off his murderous father by Kon and Jason, despite being strong enough to break from their hold on him he chose not to, instead he glared at his father, Clark had never seen such hatred from anyone. None of his enemies have ever gave him such a dark and murderous look at least not the one that made him fear for his life.

Jon shrugged off Kon’s and Jason’s hold as he went over to Damian’s body, he picked his husband’s body as he turned to face not only his father but his mother and little sister.

“Your dead to me Super-Man,” Jon took to the sky ignoring the cries of Batman telling him to bring back Damian.

[cas-is-my-hero-blog1]

The Brother No One Knew

Chapter one: The Mix Up (Supernatural fanfic )

⚠ warnings cussing and lots of laughs⚠

*Dean’s Pov*

“God Cas I gotta piss like a racehorse.” I said as I pulled Baby into the gas station.

“Dean how can you possibly know a racehorse pisses? “Cas asked looking puzzled.

"Cas baby it’s an expression.” I said softly as Sam got out and started to put gas in Baby.

“But that doesn’t make sense. Dean why would you say that?” Cas asked still puzzled.

Damn he’s so cute when he’s confused. I just chuckled a little as I ran into the gas station. When I got to the bathroom. Right before I went in I saw this guy. He looked exactly like me. I just shook my head and went in thinking my mind was playing tricks on me. I mean I have been driving for along time.

*Max’s POV*

I just walked out of the bathroom. I saw this guy who looked exactly like me. But I bet he doesn’t have a fuzzy birth mark on his shoulder. I didn’t think much about it. I just kind of thought I was seeing things.

I walk outside and I see this guy pumping gas. He was putting it in this badass car. It was a black 1967 Chevy Impala hardtop. My God it was beautiful. I had to get a closer look.

So I went up to the car. Standing by the man. All I could do was stare at the car.

“Dean bro bro are you ok ?” The man asked as he looked me up and down.

“Look I’m ok. But one I’m not Dean and two I don’t know you.” I said looking in to the man’s brown eyes.

“Dean I’m your brother Sam. You might have hit your head or something. You gotta get in the car Dean and realx.” Sam said putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Dude I don’t know you. Get your damn hands off of me.” I said feeling threatened.

I pushed him away and turned to run back to the gas station. That Sam guy ran up behind me. He put his hands on the back of my neck. Then every thing went black.

*Sam’s POV*

After pressure pointing my brother. I put him in the back seat with Cas. Well at the time I thought he was Dean.

“Sam do you think Dean will be ok?” Cas asked looking worried as he looked at Dean worried.

“Cas I’m sure he will be. Let’s get to a hotel. We’ll let him rest awhile and see how he feels.” I said looking back at Cas. He held Dean close and gently rocked him.

Cas held him all the way to the hotel. He rubbed his neck and back. I smiled a little at thinking how much Cas loved Dean. It was getting pretty late. I was thankful in away we had to stop and rest. This was the frist time we came to New Jersey. At least for pleasure. It was all new to us. I unfastened my seatbelt.

“Cas I’m gonna get us a room. Why don’t you stay with Dean.” I said smiling back at Cas.

“Yes Sam of course. I won’t leave his side.” Cas said softly as a tear fell from his eye.

*Cas’s POV *

So here I was holding this guy I thought was Dean. I was so worried about him.

“Baby you’ll be ok. I promise you this baby. I love you very much.” I whispered in his ear.

I was rocking him and rubbing his back. Sam came back out with a room key.

“Cas can you carry Dean in please. I’ll carry our bags in. Then after we get settled we can get dinner.” Sam said smiling at me trying to calm me down.

“Sam that sounds good. Can we also get Dean some pie for dessert. Cause you’re big bro loves pie.” I said as I picked Dean up and started to carry him inside.

I laid him on one of the beds and cuddled close. As Sam brought our luggage in to the room.

“Cas why don’t you strip him to his undies. So he’d be comfy he should be waking up soon.” Sam said as he started to unpack.

I took Dean’s pants off leaving him in his underwear. When I took his shirt off. I saw this horrible thing on his shoulder.

“AHHH SAM SAM LOOK ON HIS SOULDER!!!” I screamed as I poked the fuzzy thing on the guys shoulder.

Sam Started to laugh loudly. As he walked over and hugged me.

“Cas calm down. It’s ok that’s just a birth mark. But that’s not Dean hun. When he wakes up. We need to find out who he is.” Sam said as he walked back over to his bed.

“If he’s not Dean then where is he?” I asked still cuddling the guy. I felt sorry for him since he was unconscious.

“Cas I’m not sure I’ll call his phone. We’ll find him don’t worry.” Sam said as he pulled his phone out.

The guy started to wake up. I kept holding him. In hopes of keeping him calm.

*Max’s POV *

I woke up and this strange guy was holding me. Normally I’d be freaking out but oddly enugh I felt safe. It felt like I was in the arms of a good friend.

“Um where am I and what am I doing in my underwear.” I asked as I looked at the both of them.

“It’s ok I’m Sam Winchester. You look almost identical to my brother Dean. I’m sorry we took you. We just thought maybe you had Amnesia something. But turns out you’re not Dean.” Sam said as he showed me pics of Dean. He had a lot of pics of him on his phone.

“Hey I don’t mind I just recently lost my apartment. So I don’t have anywhere to be. Wow I always thought my dad lied about who I was. Maybe I’m you’re brother.” I said as I started to feel safe.

“I’m not sure but why don’t you stay with us. Until we find out what’s going on.” Sam said smiling warmly.

“I’m Castiel but everyone calls me Cas. The Winchester brothers are like family to me. I love Dean very much.” Cas said as he set up slowly.

“Thanks guys I appreciate it. Sorry if I was rude earlier. I’m not a bad guy just been having rough luck. Have to admit also this doesn’t happen everyday.” I said snuggling in to the bed. I hadn’t felt a soft bed under me in along time.

“ it’s ok man its not everyday that we kidnap someone either.” Sam said laughing.

“Sam we didn’t kidnap him. It was only a mix up. We are not criminals.” Cas said looking serious.

“It is just a joke Cas relax. I’m gonna call Dean.” Sam said as he dialed his brother’s number.

Carry On my Wayward Son started to play. It was coming from one of the duffel bags. Cas and Sam looked at each other shocked.

“Sam he don’t have his phone. He could be in trouble Sam. We got to go and find him.” Cas said yawning and stretching.

“Cas I’m sure he’ll be ok. He’s a tough guy Cas. Why don’t we get some sleep and go look for Dean in the morning. We’re too tired to drive tonight.” Sam said as he started to get ready for bed.

“My names Max are you guys sure it’s ok. That I stay here I mean I have no money to repay you.” I said as I started to relax in my bed.

“Max to me you’re already family. So of course we want you to stay. Also you don’t need to repay us.” Cas said warmly. As he settled down in the bed beside me.

I smiled for once in my life I felt safe. I like these people. I was hoping like hell that they where my family. My other so called family put me through a lot of shit.

*Some where else In New Jersey Dean’s POV *

After I found out they left me behind. I started to wonder the streets of New Jersey. Tired as hell why did they leave me. My mind drifted back to the stranger at the gas station. Maybe he was real. All I know was I was tried hungry and alone. I decided to rest my bones on a bench. Outside a gas station. I leaned back and quickly fell asleep.

Soon I was awoken by a hand gently shaking me.

“Hey Bro wake up what you doing out here.” The voice was soft so I didn’t feel threatened.

I opened my eyes I saw his kind smile. I saw his kind blue eyes and even though his hair was gray. I knew who he was.

“Mr Bongiovi sir is that you?” I asked rubbing my eyes.

“Damn son call me Jon. I know I’m old but I ain’t that damn old.” Jon said with a laugh.

I looked behind him at the bus. Standing on the side of the bus was David Bryan who is also known as Joker. Beside him was tico Torres who is also known as Teek. Beside him was Phil x Richie Sambora’s replacement. Oh my God beside him was the king of swing himself Richie Sambora.

“Wow so you’re really him?” I said still trying to grasp it.

“Yes man I’m really him last time I checked. Say aren’t you one of the Winchester brothers?” Jon ask grining.

“Yes I’m Dean Winchester so you heard of me?” I asked looking at him.

“Well honestly your father helped us out years back. We were a young band being hunted by a vengeful spirit. It nearly killed us all.” The way his face drained of color I knew it was true.

“Oh come on is Jon telling ghost stories again. Ugh I swear these guys are just trying to scare me away.” Phil said as he walked over.

“Why don’t you shut shut your damn mouth. You maybe a damn good guitar player. But you got a lot to learn.” I growled at Phil.

“Hey Dean he just doesn’t understand. I pray he never finds our bout true evil. Say you look like your lost. Me and the boys are having a sleep over at my house why don’t you join us?” Jon asked softly.

“Sure if your wife wouldn’t mind a stranger coming to your house.” I said with a smirk.

“We love helping others so she wouldn’t mind. But Dean your family to us. If it wasn’t for your farther I wouldn’t be here. She’d be happy to see you.” Jon said pulling me off the bench and shoving he to the bus.

“Ok ok I see you won’t take no for an answer. But in the morning we got to find my brother and Cas.” I said getting on the bus.

“Yo bro we will don’t worry. We’ll find them we owe. You guys a lot your father saved us. I got a wicked scar above my butt. Also a memory of my throat almost being ripped out.” Richie said as he sat by me.

I just nodded and hugged him. As the bus took off. Heading to Jon’s house. I was really happy that I made some new friends. Also that my farther saved them.

______________A/N______________________

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