#the skills yet to do it the justice i want......... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zhongrin · 3 months ago

Text

when your heart screams within your sealed lips…

(…. i hope i can at least be there to hold you.)

featuring... ❥ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette, jing yuan, blade

involves... ❥ gn!reader, deeply personal blurbs (very self-indulgent), hurt with comfort (vague, with mentions of someone/people wronging/impacting you badly), probably ooc characters, mentions/implied retaliation by the characters

gilded golden lined fingers of a god dethroned gently weaves through your hair. for once, no words fell from your beloved’s lips, for zhongli knew that despite the silent night and the faux tranquility blanketing your dark bedchambers, your heart was screaming and writhing in pain.

the past few days, his amber eyes had followed you as you stumble and trudge through the thick mud of this whole mess you found yourself entrenched in. you may not realize his vigil over you, and countless times he had wished with all his heart, dreaming that you would sit with him to verbalize your troubles, seek his counsel, sought his aid - anything. anything but this foolish game of pretend, because he is not sure until when he can tolerate ignoring the vermin who has given you such unjust treatment.

perhaps in the morning the sky will darken and his wrath will descend upon the land you both walk on towards those who had wronged you. but for now, his anger simmers, bubbles, forges itself silently within his chest, tempered with the eons of expertise of molding metal. for now, he holds you like he’s holding a shattered bone china, like a craftsman appraising its damage before reshaping it with molten gold.

the price of violating the sanctity of a contract is steep, but the price of breaking your trust and betraying your kindness is steeper.

“you need not worry, my love. if there are moments where a god - retired as he may be - must pass judgment, it is now. a contract has been breached… and consequences shall follow.”

there aren’t too many things that can ruffle al haitham’s feathers. but seeing your eyes clouded with hurt and rimmed by veins of reds while you force a trembling smile on your lips as you welcomed him back home… it most definitely exceeds the annoyance from being forced to work overtime on a friday.

he’s glad he’s gotten used to reading you like a familiar book; your form fits snugly within his arms and your weight rests just right on top of his lap, not unlike the way a familiar book fits within his hand and weighs comfortingly in his hold.

“do you want to talk about it?” his comforting skills are a mixed copy of what he remembered from his grandmother and your own actions, carefully threaded and analyzed to fit the situations and the various variables within the scope of the equation. it’s methodical, logical, yet comforting all the same; it’s uniquely your al haitham.

whether you agree to open up to him or not, he’ll eventually find out. researching is one of his strongest skills after all, and when it comes to investigations, he has two strong cards to play: kaveh knows about almost all the gossips circulating in the city, and cyno is a strong advocate of justice who would be able to move independently given a whiff of the possibility of committed transgressions. if they wouldn’t do it for him, he’s sure they would at least feel empathetic towards you.

and if this perpetrator still insists on weaseling their way out of the law… well, he had been looking for a way to dispose that forbidden knowledge capsule, anyway.

wriothesley has never looked forward to arresting and 'welcoming' a criminal so much before.

impartiality is expected when you work in such field, but the agony you’ve gone through and he’d witnessed firsthand due to such heinous individual had been permanently etched in his brain. with each silent tears falling down your cheeks, it adds yet another scar upon his heart. he never fails to hold and comfort you every night, tries his very best to piece you together the best he can. but with how broken you were, he fears that you’ll never be the same.

he never wanted you to obtain a wound that cut so deep, it would leave a mark on your skin or your psyche. he’d take the bullet for you if he could. but with your insistence of dealing with the matter alone at first, he could only watch as you were ripped, torn, beaten.

he’s never felt like he wanted to utterly destroy a man as he catches your falling form and cradles it close to his chest.

so could you blame him when he personally goes on his way to make sure his newest, permanent prisoner feels absolutely unwelcome inside the fortress sunk deep beneath the waters?

after all, when the duke wants a criminal under his jurisdiction to suffer a fate worse than death, he needs no justification.

the word “guilty” had always tasted bitter on his tongue, like a sour, days-old water which had gone through several harsh conditions and became contaminated with environmental causes.

this particular “guilty”, however, he had said with the most conviction, with no pity nor sympathy, and its palate was of the freshest spring water of an untouched stream in the very nation he’s looking after. if the audience observes that the iudex looked colder and spoke with a voice so calm it’s almost obvious he was trying to conceal his fury, they did not say anything. it’s always been clearer than the reflection in the fountain of lucine; the fact that neuvilette holds you in the highest regard as his spouse.

so when you’ve been wronged?

naturally, when the opportunity for him to deliver justice on your behalf comes to him on a silver platter, he takes it with the most gratuity and takes the chance to personally hands down the verdict.

guilty, for the nights he had to hold you to sleep, for the mornings he had to assure you that you could go through the day, for the afternoons he had to check in to make sure you were busy and not wallowing in the murky depths of negative thoughts. guilty, for all the tears, the frustration, the mental strain, the self-hatred, and the bleeding wounds they’d inflicted upon your heart.

guilty, and for once, he finds himself wishing he could have handed down a death penalty.

“what’s troubling you?”

your husband loves his cuddles as much as his feline companions, and he’s just as sensitive to the changes in your mood as they do. with mimi sleeping and being your makeshift pillow, your cat curled right behind you, the fuzzy blanket pulled up to your waist, and your jing yuan holding you close as he continuously strokes your hair… if your heart weren’t so weary, it would have been a peaceful afternoon.

“you know you can tell this old man anything, yes, dearest?” a playful hum and a lazy grin rouses you out of your miserable thoughts, the muted colors filling with the warming golds of his eyes.

unlike inanimate chess pieces on a board, humans may veer off course from their planned routes and therefore proves finicky to handle to some. but to jing yuan, it is but one of the facets that makes human, human. so when you stubbornly try to avoid talking about it, he does not press further, nor does he feel anger.

time and time again, you’ve proven yourself stronger than steel; countless times you’ve proven you didn’t need his help, and it’s always reminded him of how resilient one could be in the face of adversity. still, he can’t help but fret whenever he’s deprived of witnessing the skips in your steps and the pleasant ring of your laughter. he may be patient, but he knows everything has its limits - both your tolerance and his fortitude, that is.

the general sighs and somewhat begrudgingly decides to give you a few more days. he’s gotten used to uprooting weeds growing in his garden after all these years; this, too, will not be any different.

“who did this to you?”

mara is truly a strange phenomenon.

while there are several things that could trigger his condition, if there’s one absolute causation which could decisively result in a mara-struck blade leading a whole carnage, it was seeing pearls of tears drop from your sullen eyes.

for a moment, he thinks it’s his fault. he’s not the best lover, and he has no doubt that you deserve better - but the moment you admitted you wanted him, broken and horribly disfigured as he was, you’ve filled the cracks in his being with you; you’re part of him, now. and he can’t bring himself to ever let go - but as you look into his eyes with the exhaustion of a broken soldier enduring one too many battles, he knows.

he knows he needs to fight a war you dare not tread.

“all i need is a name.”

through the desperation, there’s a hint of pleading in his voice. the hands cradling your cheeks are bandaged and bloodied with the blood of a billion lives, and he’s ever so grateful that you never flinch away from them. red spider lilies blooms ominously behind his gaze, lycorine bubbling like acid in his veins as he commits the memory of your lips forming the syllables, letter by letter. he’s not good at comforting people, so he does the best he could do: stay as close as possible as you rest against him, eventually falling into a tired slumber. blade carefully tucks you in, habitually presses a chaste kiss on your forehead, and sets off when you’re asleep.

if he’s already just a tool anyway, he would rather become the blade that pierces your enemies’ heart for your sake.

724 notes · View notes

katsu28 · 7 months ago

Text

first time for everything

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: a lot of things were in the cards for oscar’s first home race. he just wasn’t expecting confessing his love for you to be one of them. (3.3k)

warnings: maybe a swear word idk

a/n: my first oscar fic! not sure if i've got his personality down quite yet but hopefully i've done him justice :)

“You’re nervous.”

Oscar tore his attention from his phone camera, where he was messing with the swoop of his hair for what had to be the fifth time. He shook his head, though you could probably see right through him. “No, I’m not—I just didn’t sleep that well last night.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you were nervous for today.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to be nervous, Oscar. I’d be more worried if you weren’t.”

You were right, he was nervous about a lot of things—this weekend was his first home race, the first race you were able to attend during his time as a driver for McLaren. But the first thing he learned from competing at this level was to never let his nerves show. Put up a front, make it seem like he was cool as a cucumber so people wouldn’t doubt him, let his skills on the track do all the talking.

Normally, Oscar was good about that. But you could see right through him. You knew him well enough to know how he was feeling and how to help, even if he himself didn’t quite understand it.

The story of you and Oscar was quite the cliche, really. He knew of you through a friend of a friend and was instantly intrigued without even meeting you, managed to reach out, and the rest was history.

You hadn’t even met each other face to face until a month into your constant texting, but when you did finally find the opportunity to meet up in person, it was like you’d both found the other half of yourselves in each other. While Oscar was more of a straight to the point, cut and dry kind of guy, you managed to bring him out of his shell a little bit, to get him to expand his horizons (within reason, of course).

You were the opposite—always smiling, always happy to try new things, warm and sunshine-y and everything in between. Oscar toned you down without holding you back, reminded you to take a breather before immediately jumping into the next exciting thing, to enjoy what you had while you had it so you wouldn’t miss anything.

He’d only just gained the courage to ask you out a few months back, but it only seemed fitting that you were here with him for his first race in front of his home crowd.

“It’s a lot to process.” Oscar admitted, letting his shoulders creep up towards his ears in a shrug. You leaned against him, looping an arm through the crook of his elbow and slipping your hand into his for a reassuring squeeze, pressing your chin against his bicep. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down, y’know? Wanna make everyone proud.”

“You’re going to do great. I promise.” You said firmly, reaching up to push his hair into its perfect place. Oscar nuzzled into your touch on instinct, letting you cradle his cheek in the palm of your hand. Your thumb swept over his cheek a few times, lulling him into a sense of contentment.

“Forget me. How are you feeling?”

“I’m excited! I’ve never done something like this before.” You replied, letting your hand drop. “And kinda nervous, but it’ll be fine, right?”

“Yeah, ‘course it will.”

“Have any sage words of wisdom for a first time paddock goer?”

“Oh, you know me. Keep your head down, walk fast. There’s gonna be a lot of cameras, lots of fans, they’re all gonna want something from you. I’ll be with you as long as I can, so I’ll be there in case things start to get out of hand.”

“Can I say hi to the fans?”

“If you want to, yeah. They already love you.”

That was another thing Oscar had to be worried about. Today was a day full of firsts, it felt like, because it was also the first time you’d be making your public debut as a couple. You’d already become a fan favorite when the two of you were just friends (two very mutually pining friends, no less), but making your relationship paddock official seemed daunting.

Oscar wasn’t at all worried about what people would think. In fact, he didn’t really care. He was happier than he’d been in a long time and nothing would change that. What he was worried about was how you’d be treated. Oscar loved the fans, he really did, but there were always that handful who thought they knew him—knew what was best for him. Knew who was best for him.

If he could protect you from any harm that could possibly be aimed your way, he’d do it in a heartbeat, but things could get so very unpredictable out there. The best he could do was keep you close.

Your grip on Oscar’s hand tightened just the slightest bit at seeing the sheer amount of people outside the window. Noticing this, he rubbed his thumb along your knuckles soothingly.

“You don’t have to come along.” He said softly. You tore your eyes away from the passing crowds to look at him. “There’s a back entrance, you can go through there.”

“No, it’s alright! I’ll be fine.”

“You sure? It’s okay if you're having second thoughts, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, I promise. It’s kind of a lot, but nothing I can’t handle.” You said firmly, more for yourself than anything. Oscar squeezed your hand with a soft smile. “If you can do it, I can do it.”

“There you go. You’ll be the star of the show. Everyone’ll be like Oscar Piastri who? There’s the most beautiful girl in the world, and just some guy.”

You had to bite back a laugh at his words paired with the deadpan expression gracing his face. Oscar always seemed to know how to get you to relax.

“Well, you’re the hottest just some guy I’ve ever seen.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, smiling at how his fair skin immediately flamed hot under your lips.

Despite your previous hesitation, you looked entirely in your element as you made the walk hand in hand, looking around with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. Oscar couldn't help but watch you take it all in, not bothering to mask the awe in his eyes as he did so. He wouldn’t be surprised if photos of him looking at you made it to fan Twitter by the end of the day.

Oscar was whisked away as soon as you got through to hospitality, giving him barely enough time to say goodbye to you before he was shuttled to meeting after meeting, press conferences and pre race interviews, a thousand things to do in the few hours he had before he had to get ready for free practice.

He was already exhausted by the time he made it back to his driver’s room, pushing open the door with a heaving sigh. You glanced up at the commotion he was making, smiling at him warmly and setting aside your phone.

“Hey, you,” You hummed, holding out your arms towards Oscar as soon as he closed the door behind him.

“Hi.” Oscar sighed, folding you into his embrace as comfortably as he could in the cramped alcove. There was barely enough room for one person on the bench, let alone you and your boyfriend with his broad shoulders. You shifted sideways to solve the problem, throwing your legs over Oscar’s lap, to which his hand immediately came to rest on your knee. “I missed you.”

“Wish I could say the feeling was mutual.” You teased. Oscar rolled his eyes goodnaturedly, giving your leg a gentle pinch that you giggled at before leaning in to press a quick peck to his cheek. “I missed you too.”

“What did you get up to while I was gone?”

“Oh, so much! I took a walk around the paddock just to check everything out, and I kinda got lost, but someone helped me find my way back eventually.” You shrugged, not noticing the way Oscar’s eyebrows flew up into his hairline.

“Wait, you got lost? Why didn’t you call me?”

“You were busy.” You said, very as-a-matter-of-factly. He blinked at you slowly, a blank expression present on his face. “I’m a big girl, Osc, I can find my way around just fine.”

That made Oscar falter. You were right. He cared so much, especially about you—so much so that sometimes he forgot you were entirely capable of taking care of yourself.

“A lot of people asked to take pictures with me. Me! Isn’t that crazy?” You exclaimed, beaming bright. “I promised one of them your sweaty fireproofs in return, but that’s beside the point.”

“You what?” He spluttered, eyes widening almost comically. His fingers froze in their fiddling with the rings adorning your fingers.

“I’m kidding, obviously. Lighten up, Oscie, jeez.”

Oscar rolled his eyes playfully. “Right, well I’m glad you’re having fun.”

“You know what would make this day even more fun?”

“I don’t think I want to.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before continuing. “Can I meet Charles Leclerc? Is that something you can pull off?”

Technically speaking, it would be extremely easy for him to pull off. All he really had to do was bring you over to the Ferrari motorhome for a quick introduction, and he was sure Charles would take a liking to you, just like every other driver you’d gotten to meet so far. You had that kind of persona; one that made people want to get to know you.

Oscar quite liked that about you. What he wouldn’t like as much was you being immediately wooed by the driver’s seemingly irresistible French charm. And yeah, you were Oscar’s girlfriend and Charles also had a girlfriend of his own, but still. Nobody wanted to see the girl they loved fawning over another man, even one as cool as Charles Leclerc.

But Oscar would never tell you that, because he loved you, and he’d do anything to make you happy.

“Uh…yeah, sure. I could probably get you an intro, if that’s something you really want.” He heard himself saying, scratching the back of his neck. His heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the way your face lit up.

“Really?”

Oscar smiled tightly. “Why not? D’you wanna go now? There’s some time before we need to be on track.”

“That would be amazing, Osc.”

“Right then, let’s go.” He nudged your legs off him, heaving himself to his feet with a groan that would usually be associated with someone much older than him. You threaded your fingers through his as soon as he finished popping all his joints like an old man, following his lead out of the room and the motorhome, all the way to the bright Ferrari red building a few doors down.

Luckily, Charles was sitting at one of the tables in the main area, so you didn’t have to look far to find him.

“Charles, mate, you got a second?”

The aforementioned Monegasque tore his attention from his phone upon hearing Oscar’s voice, an easygoing smile already present on his face. “Oscar! What can I do for you, mate?” His eyes found you next, and he nodded politely. “Hello!”

“Hi.” You said quietly, clinging to Oscar’s hand tightly. This feeling was foreign to you. You’d never been so stunned into silence by someone before, but maybe that was because you’d never met someone as well known as the Charles Leclerc.

“This is my girlfriend. It’s her first time in the paddock and she’s a big fan of yours, figured I could introduce the two of you. Y/N, Charles. Charles, Y/N.”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard much about you!” Charles exclaimed, popping to his feet. He moved forward to embrace you, wrapping you in a warm hug like he’d known you for a long time, let alone just met you not even fifteen seconds ago.

Oscar never really understood the whole hugging thing Charles had going on. Maybe it was a French thing. Either way, the hug seemed to have shaken you out of whatever starstruck daze you were in, because you straightened up.

Charles smiled warmly. “Welcome to your first race. I trust they are treating you well over at McLaren?”

“There’s definitely a few perks.” You replied, returning his infectious smile. You squeezed Oscar’s hand as you said it, and part of him felt a smidge proud that you considered him a perk. Charles laughed goodnaturedly. “I hate to sound so forward, but I wanted to say I love your music. The way you play piano is…the only way I can think to describe it is beautiful.”

“Oh wow, you—thank you! That means a lot, thank you. Do you play?”

“A little bit, but I haven’t had much time to sit at the bench lately.” You replied, giving a haphazard shrug. Charles nodded sympathetically, like he understood the troubles of carving out time to play. “D’you mind if I ask you a bit more about your inspiration while I’ve got you?”

“Of course, yes, yes, I would love to talk about it!”

Oscar touched a hand to the small of your back to snag your attention for a second. He liked music as much as the next person, but not as much as you and Charles, it seemed. “I’ll be over there.”

You nodded, popping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek before returning to your animated conversation with Charles.

Now, Oscar wasn’t a jealous guy by any means. On the contrary he was always quite calm and collected, so he thought he’d be fine. Secretly a little miffed, sure. It was nothing he couldn’t handle, but actually seeing you go starry eyed while talking to Charles sparked something inside him. He didn’t know how hard he was squeezing the can in his hand until he felt liquid trickling down the sleeve of his fireproofs.

“Ah, shit.” He muttered, shaking out his arm frustratedly.

“Stare at her any harder and she might burst into flames, mate.”

Oscar glanced to his left to see Lando standing there, arms crossed over his chest, expectant brow arched.

“Dunno know what you’re talking about.” Oscar grumbled, moving to toss the now crumpled can into the nearest rubbish bin. Lando looked wildly unconvinced. “What?”

“Don’t feed me that shit, Oscar, you’re way too easy to read for me to believe you’re not absolutely fucking in love with Y/N.”

Oscar made an offended noise from the back of his throat. “I am not easy to read.”

“Mate, you’re the openest book in the history of open books right now.”

“Openest isn’t a word.”

“Whatever! Stop deflecting.” Lando scoffed, wrinkling his nose. “You love her. Tell her that.”

“I can’t. I mean, I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“What if it’s too soon? What if she doesn’t feel the same way yet?”

“You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you’re kidding.” Lando groaned, letting his head tilt back in exasperation. Oscar squinted at him, unamused. “Oh, you’re serious? Mate, come on. Just today, in the half a day I’ve known her, I’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. I see the way you look at her when she’s not looking. It’s obvious. You’re both obnoxiously in love with each other, and it’s sickening.”

The corners of Oscar’s mouth lifted into a grin. “Really?”

“Oh my god, yes, really. I mean honestly, how dense can you be?”

“A lot, it seems.” Oscar cast another glance at you, feeling a lot better than he had a few minutes ago. You were laughing at something Charles had said, but now all that was running through his mind was how pretty you looked when you laughed. How happy you looked talking to a person you held a lot of admiration for. Professional admiration, nothing more.

Part of him felt a little guilty. He should’ve been supportive the whole time, not sulking around being a jealous little prick thinking you would ever choose Charles over him.

“No point in overthinking it now, bro.”

“Since when did you become such a wise old man?”

“Oi, watch it, you muppet. I’m only two years older than you.” Lando huffed, rolling his eyes. “And I’ve always been wise, thank you for noticing.”

“Sure you have.”

“Tell her.”

Oscar nodded once, accepting the clap on the shoulder Lando gave him. “I will. Thank you.”

“Of course. And if you ever need any more advice, come on down to Lando’s love shack, where you can get—”

“Leave now, I’m begging you.” Lando took the hint, wandering away to go wreak havoc somewhere else, leaving Oscar alone with his own thoughts as he waited for you to finish up. It wasn’t long until you were making your way back over, practically aglow with excitement as you approached him. “Made a new best friend, have you?”

You snorted, clearly amused. “Oh, of course. We’ve already arranged to go on a double date when we’re all in Monaco at the same time.”

“Ha ha, very funny. You do know Ferrari’s one of our top competitors, right?” Oscar laced his fingers through yours once more, letting your joined hands swing between the two of you as you walked.

“You know what they say—keep your friends close, but your enemies closer. Consider my blossoming friendship with Charles your way into the heart and soul of Ferrari’s strategies. You’re welcome.”

You were just joking, of course, and it made Oscar smile. Lando was right. Oscar was in love with you. He tugged you off the main path suddenly, leading you to a more secluded area between motorhomes.

“Osc? What’re you—” You were entirely cut off by him stopping in his tracks, and before you could comprehend what was happening, he was kissing you. He curled a hand around the back of your neck, the other coming up to cup your cheek gently.

It was by all means a sweet kiss, but a completely unexpected one nonetheless. Oscar had never been a public display of affection sort of guy before, so for him to kiss you out of the blue where anyone could see you…well, let's just say there was a first time for everything.

To say you were taken aback was an understatement. You let out a noise of surprise, but returned his kiss wholeheartedly as soon as you realized what was happening.

“That was new.” You breathed as soon as he pulled away, splaying your palms across the firm plane of his chest to steady yourself after he’d kissed the living daylights out of you. Oscar’s eyes fluttered open slowly, a dazed grin stretching his lips. “You feeling alright, babe?”

“I love you.”

Immediately, you beamed, lighting up faster than a bonfire on a warm Melbourne night. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s about damn time you said it.” You poked his chest playfully, stifling a giggle at the way he did the biggest double take ever at your words.

“You—hang on, what?”

“I was waiting for you to be the one to say it first.” You shrugged. Oscar’s brow scrunched in confusion now. “Didn’t wanna scare you off and lose one of the best things in my life.”

“So…you do feel the same way?”

You reached up, smoothing a stray curl away from his forehead fondly. “Do I love you? ‘Course I do. I think I’ve loved you since the first time we met.”

“That was a good one, I should’ve said that. You’re so much better at this than I am.”

“What can I say? I’ve got the best just some guy as my inspiration.”

“I see what you did there. That’s gonna become a thing now, isn’t it?”

“Oh, Osc,” You sighed, patting his cheek affectionately. “It already has.”

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

#oscar piastri #oscar piastri x reader #op81 x reader #oscar piastri x you #op81 #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastric fic #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri one shot

855 notes · View notes

charlietheepicwriter7 · 11 months ago

Text

Teen Villain Alliance

Chapter 1 - Damian

Despite his proficiency in the skill, Damian hated spying on the Teen Villain Alliance.

Having appeared two years ago in alliance with Klarion Bleak, the Teen Villain Alliance, or TVA, quickly made themselves known as little more than pests, often rushing in to assist other young adult criminals or harass Justice League officials. Father wanted to investigate when they first appeared, but with Todd’s reveal and Damian himself coming to take his place as Robin, he’d been… busy.

Which allowed the TVA to flourish into a respected criminal enterprise. No vault was safe, no hero strong enough. A group had even banded together to take down Superman! And while there was no lasting damage other than some bizarre markings on the Kryptoian’s face, it was enough to prove these teenagers as a threat.

Damian, as much as it galled him, was not the first chosen to infiltrate. Martian Manhunter, shapeshifted into a meta fourteen-year-old girl, tried and was identified as a hero on sight. The Teen Titans and Young Justice got closer, actually able to talk to the villains about joining, but “it was like they could smell the hero on us,” Beast Boy had explained. “I don't know how else to explain it.”

Most likely, the TVA kept tabs on the Justice League and affiliated organizations. They needed someone fresh, someone who wasn’t a hero.

Damian had been more than willing to volunteer.

Introducing himself as Damian Al Ghul, the recently escaped Heir to the Demon Head, he’d been accepted immediately despite having approached the group mid-heist. All he had to do was extrapolate about how Grandfather’s assassins were chasing him, and the Wolf—a designation given to the members of the TVA’s inner circle—allowed him to join, but he was forced to stay with the hacker of the group while the heist commenced with no interference from a hero.

Damian had been confident. He’d gotten so far in mere minutes when a member of the Justice League, and even Drake, couldn’t get past the first few questions. He’d have the Teen Villain Alliance dismantled within the week.

Then Manson, as the Wolf had introduced herself, took out a device that transported them all to another dimension. Which was where the main base of the Alliance was. And none of his communication devices or trackers worked there.

Damian had only been able to update the Justice League a few times since his tenure as a spy began. Superman had reassured him it was fine, that there had been plenty of missions were communication was infrequent, but after a month of living in the TVA Base in the Infinite Realms, Damian hated not being able to contact his father easily. And in return, Father and Drake had taken to interrogating him for as long as possible the couple of times he was outside Headquarters.

(Phantom’s Haunt is what the TVA members called it. It was Phantom Dark’s home that he opened up to them all. Damian didn’t know how to feel about that.)

Damian had only been able to contact Father three times in his four weeks undercover, each time on a supply run… which was essentially just a grocery trip for the Haunt. The first time Damian had slipped away to the bathroom and called, Father had been… furious. He’d thought Damian’s lack of updates was on purpose. It had been five minutes before Damian could correct him.

He wished Grayson had answered during any of his updates, but he was on a mission in space and wouldn’t be back for another two weeks.

In those four months, Damian was still the newest member, and had yet to be involved in the truly illegal aspects of the organization. All the information he’d gathered purely administrative, like how Duulaman, a reincarnated pharaoh turned hacker, stole money from various billionaires and government organizations to fund their plans. He’d yet to be involved with anything serious.

He wasn’t allowed on serious missions either. He only had the supply runs to look forward to, and those only occurred once a month.

His other objective, to undermine the Teen Villain Alliance and spur a mutiny, was also going poorly. The children he surrounded himself with were fanatically loyal to the Alliance, citing Phantom and his harem as the reason they were alive today. Even those who weren’t directly rescued were loyal. One such child, a boy named Kyd Wyckyd, had confessed to turning to a life of crime due to his terrifying meta abilities and their effects on his appearance.

But the TVA took him in after the collapse of HIVE Academy. He hadn’t participated in a crime since, preferring to work with the Wolf named Jasmine who led individual and group therapy sessions for the villains. Jasmine had tried multiple times to convince her therapy sessions—more like brainwashing sessions—but Damian had stayed strong in the face of adversary.

Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be much more Damian could do. He tried to push, to get involved with the criminal aspect of the organization, but the Wolves blocked him at every turn, saying he was “too young.” That he needed “stability” and to “rely on them to keep him safe.”

Perhaps Damian oversold the danger of the League of Assassins.

For now, Damian hid in his room in Phantom’s Haunt. His castle. Even the magnificence of the compound he grew up in couldn’t compare to the headquarters. There were an infinite number of rooms—”as many as we need,” Phantom had told him—that changed based on the user’s preferences. Right now, Damian’s room looked like a cave. The Batcave, to be precise, though he didn’t allow references to his Father and legacy.

He was hiding because Manson had suggested he attend some of the classes held in the libraries—there were four libraries at the moment. Classes were taught by ghosts under Phantom’s control and weren’t mandatory, but “everyone’s worried about the lack of structure in your life.”

He tried to tell himself it was because he didn’t want to be brainwashed by Phantom’s lackeys, and that he already knew everything they were going to teach. But in truth… Damian was anxious. Attending school at the Haunt felt too permanent, too much like he was planning to stay. He hadn’t gotten the choice to attend school back in Gotham, with Father acting like he would compromise their identities around children. He wasn’t that petty.

Someone knocked on his door. “Damian? Are you inside?”

Sighing, Damian stood up and opened the door. “Dr. Fenton. Am I needed for anything?”

Dr. Daniel Fenton was another Wolf, another member of the harem Phantom had built around him, twenty years old and not an actual doctor but everyone called him that anyway. While Damian had yet to see Fenton and Phantom in the same place, Damian was keeping a detailed record of how the Wolves’ polyamourous relationship worked. Phantom and Fenton both dated Manson and Duualman, though they didn’t seem to be dating each other or Jasmine. Klarion often inserted himself into those relationships for hugs and hand-holding, but only seemed to kiss Jasmine.

“Actually, yes.” Damian’s lips parted in surprise. “I wanted to talk to you about something down in my lab. Would you join me?”

Fenton’s lab was off-limits to low level members of the TVA. He was the engineer, the creator of all their weapons of destruction. Fenton had no minions, while Manson had her thieves, Duualman had his hackers, Jasmine had her helpers, Klarion had his witches, and Phantom had his fighters.

Fenton was alone.

Isolated.

Damian agreed.

Fenton led him to the depths below the castle, past the never-used dungeon and through a secret door into a surprisingly bright and airy lab. He caught Damian looking through a window that displayed one of the Haunt’s many gardens, an impossible feat for being so far underground. “Magic castle, remember,” Fenton chided him. “Those work as portals that lead to the garden too, so it’s an easy one-way exit.”

Damian scoffed, abashed that he’d been caught so easily. From a glance, the lab was perfectly maintained, with every piece of equipment assigned to an outline meant to indicate where it belonged. As he walked further into the room, Fenton made slight adjustments to his tools, meticulously shifting them back into place. It looked more like a set than a laboratory.

But then, Damian observed Fenton. The twenty-year-old relaxed as he put his space back into order, nudging the screwdrivers and beakers back into their designated outlines. As he worked, the sleeve of his lab coat road up, revealing a glimpse of lichtenberg scars before it was hidden again.

Finally done, Fenton turned back to Damian. “My sister, Jazz, has told me that you’re not attending individual or group therapy sessions, is that correct?”

Well, that revealed a lot of information. Ignoring the fact that Fenton and Jasmine were apparently siblings, Damian replied, “I do not see a reason to attend. If this meeting is an attempt to force me–”

Fenton held his hands up in surrender. “No, I would never. Therapy doesn’t work if the person receiving it doesn’t want it. But you haven’t been attending any of your classes either, and Phantom has mentioned that you don’t hang out with the other kids. Are you settling in alright? I know the others are a few years older than you, so it might be harder for you to connect with them.”

Damian chewed on the question. While part of him was furious that someone, especially a villain like Fenton, was concerned about him and discussed him with his fellows, the other part… wasn’t. It was true; he was having difficulty connecting with the villains. Damian didn’t particularly want to, but it would make his mission easier.

He chose a neutral answer. “In the League of Assassins… I was the only child in the entire compound. Other children weren’t allowed inside, not unless their parents did something wrong. And those children…”

“Were used against their parents?” Fenton offered when he struggled to find the words.

“Precisely. It’s not in my nature to associate with children.”

Fenton nodded in understanding, stroking his chin in thought. “That does present a conundrum alright. How unfortunate; the task I needed your help with requires you to interact with at least some of the others, but if you’re that uncomfortable with the idea, then I could find someone else.”

Damian stared at the man in suspicion. “What task?” he demanded to know. If this was a way to get more information for father, he needed to know. But if this was another trap to get him into therapy…

“You’ve probably noticed by now, but I’m the only Wolf without someone working under me. Sam has her Bats, Tucker has his Flies, Jazz has her Rats, Klarion has his Strays, and Phantom has the TVA as a whole. The others have been pressuring me to create my own group, but babysitting a group of teens in a lab where anything could explode is just asking for trouble.”

Damian stepped away from the nearest device. Fenton continued, “However, I think a group dedicated to investigation would work much better. Here in the Infinite Realms, we’re very isolated from the human world, so my research on competing inventors is always lacking. Tuck and Sam help, but Tucker has his own hacking projects, and Sam targets financially viable targets instead of labs.”

“You want me to be a member of your new… group?” Damian read in between the lines of what Fenton was saying. Surely Father would be proud of him for gaining information about Fenton’s inventions and targets—

“I want you to lead the group.”

His glare dropped right off his face in shock. “Lead?” he whispered.

“That’s right,” Daniel agreed. “It’s not conventional and I barely got the others to agree, but Damian, you’re one of the best trained villains to ever join the TVA. Yeah, you’re really young, but you are serious and professional. To be honest, most of the kids we take in don’t take our work seriously. It’s not a bad thing, but I need a leader who is willing to keep their group in line. Infiltration and information gathering can be very dangerous, and I need someone who can keep the team safe.”

Daniel trusted him enough for that? Father didn’t trust him enough to be his partner; honestly, Father didn’t even trust him enough to introduce Damian to the world as his son! Perhaps he was aggressive towards the interlopers in his home, but he wasn’t going to stab a civilian!

And while Damian didn’t understand why Daniel was so cautious around what amounted to breaking and entering, he wanted Damian to lead. He trusted Damian for that.

And Damian was going to take back whatever information Fenton revealed back to his father, like a hunting dog to its master.

Daniel continued, “Of course, this is still a few months off from being necessary. But that should give you plenty of time to attend some classes to prepare you more! One on leadership skills, one on modern technology, one on basic magic and wards, maybe a refresher on hacking… Knowing you, you’ll test out of them in a few weeks, but the main point is to find other people to join our team. I’m looking for four other team members, and while I am looking for certain traits and skills, it's up to you to decide who you want on the team.” Daniel placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “So, what do you think?”

He’d betray Daniel by saying yes. He’d betray Father by saying no.

He made his choice.

Damian looked up at Daniel, determination set into his face. “I won’t let you down.”

Daniel smiled. “I know you won’t. You couldn’t if you tried.”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #ghost prince danny fenton #supervillain danny fenton #damian wayne is not robin #c: danny fenton #c: damian wayne #damian al ghul #Jazz: ok so this kid is really insecure but also really prideful so you can't ever seem like you're looking down on him #Danny: *aggressively taking notes so he can help this kid makes some friends and find a purpose that motivates him*#teen villain alliance

2K notes · View notes

deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

Text

Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!

4K notes · View notes

caamboys · 11 months ago

Text

Future Spouse

i hope you guys like this reading <3 plsss give me feedback !! and more recommendations !! taking requests <333

pick a pile

PILE ONE

channeled song

" wish you were sober " - conan gray

" save me til the party is over, kiss me in the seat of your rover, real sweet but I wish you were sober "

THEIR PERSONALITY -

the emperor, six of swords, six of pentacles, justice, the well

This is a very dominant , overprotective person. They have a powerful aura and seem very strong minded and authoritative. People know not to fuck with this individual. This is the type to defend you against anybody, who would literally fight for your honor. I see a very masculine individual with a very no bullshit attitude. I think this person has experienced karma firsthand so they take it very seriously. I feel like your future spouse has abandoned bad habits and vices and transformed the way they live for the better. They've had a bit of a toxic past they've outgrown and integrated into their journey. I wouldn't be surprised if your significant other broke some hearts. I see them abandoning their old habits after facing karma and retribution. This is someone who believes in change and growth and will encourage it in you as well. I see them in a stern yet gentle energy to encourage you to live better, eat better or become healthier. They're veryyy charitable, and most people would not realize this because of how intimidating they are. They're actually very giving and compassionate to others. I think something about them is intimidating and strong & that presents them differently than who they truthfully are. I believe this is a new person, someone you haven't met yet.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

channeled song - " flawless by Beyoncé"

king of pentacles, judgement

Remember how I said they'd encourage you to be better?? This person is also going to raise your self confidence majorly. I see them constantly praising you, hyping you up and complimenting you. They love to praise your physical appearance, and go out out of their way to raise your spirits around them. They want to see you elevate and will do anything to make sure you do. With the king of pentacles, they're gonna spend A LOT of money on you 😘 I'm getting gift-giving and words of affirmation as their love languages. This is a financially abundant person, & I see them wanting to provide for you financially to prove themselves to you, to show you they can take care of you.

PILE TWO

channeled song

" NASA " ariana grande

" you know I'ma Star, space, I'ma need space, "

PERSONALITY

the star, the well, nine of wands, the magician, the emperor, eight of swords, ace of wands, six of pentacles, three of pentacles

I think this is a very popular extroverted individual. They're very well-known. I see a lot of people admiring your future spouse and putting them on pedestals. Your person may be very gifted either physically or with a certain skill. With the Magician and the Star card I see them being magnetic, and constantly praised. Lots of people favor this person. I get the sense that they're in a natural position of power. Despite this they work very well with others and don't mind collaboration. They go out of their way to empower others.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

"high priestess, four of swords, the empress"

Channeled song - "Good life by G-easy ft Kehlani"

" We put the good in the good life, we put the bad in the past now we alright "

I think this person knows how to read your body language, expression and moods very well. They're very intuitive and wise when it comes to the way you're feeling. They learn this specifically to cater to you. I see a feminine energy here being taken care of and nurtured. They're very emotionally intune with you. I think their love language is slowing down their fast-paced lives to simply rest and relax with you. Quality time is definitely one of their love languages along with praise. With the 'Empress' here I see them thinking of you highly, someone they would be blessed to be with. They think you both are powerful and will go together well. If you're shy, they will inspire you to step into a powerful and confident energy. I see them reminding you of how highly they think of you and how well you go together. They will encourage you to be more comfortable being in the spotlight. You will be a power couple here with the 'Emperor & Empress'. I see you two stepping on necks.

PILE THREE

channeled song - blow my brains out by tikkle me

" sometimes I wish I could lend you my voice, lend you my heart, lend you my choice"

" lucky is she, who lives unaware. unlucky me knows way too much "

THEIR PERSONALITY

seven of wands, seven of pentacles, the sun, five of swords, two of pentacles, the chariot, judgement temperance, seven of swords, knight of wands

I think something about your future spouse triggers people's insecurities. They have a certain way of living that shines light on darker traits and habits in others. I see people causing strife and problems with your spouse because of their light. I'm seeing this person has been betrayed by people close to them because of this. They can be defensive with new people and who they share their path with. Their defensiveness with others can be a little bit immature and overbearing but I think they know when to balance themselves out. They give strong Scorpio vibes tbh. I see them being a natural born protector and fighter. They have an inner warrior inside of them. I'm seeing your person has fought a lot to get where they are, and they don't plan on stopping anytime soon.

How they treat you?

" Industry Baby " Lil Nas X ft Jack Harlow

" you was never really rooting for me anyways"

"I don't clear up rumors, where's y'all's sense of humor? "

the hermit, three of pentacles, temperance, queen of pentacles, nine of swords, knight of pentacles, king of sworfs

I see them being very ambitious in showing their love to you. They may come across as very intense but truly they crave partnership. I think from the start they will pursue you strongly. I know I mentioned them being overly defensive earlier but when it comes to you this person has extremeeee patience. You're the only person to tame this person's inner warrior. They'll bow to no one except for you. I see them wanting to stay inside and watch movies, talk and overall withdrawal from everyone expect each other. People will wonder how you managed to 'tame the beast'. This person wants a divine collaboration to grow a new life together. I'm seeing something about living together and possibly combining finances. This person may want you to stop working completely and take on any financial burdens in the relationship. I'm seeing them sacrifice anything for this relationship, to make sure they're offering you the best they possibly can. They're very confident and assured of their approach in love, sometimes even arrogant.

PILE FOUR

Six of cups, Five of Pentacles, The devil, The star, The lovers, King of cups

channeled song - "if I could I would feel like nothing"

I'm so sick of being tired, I'm so tired of being sick."

THEIR PERSONALITY

I see your person has been through some sort of turmoil in regards to family issues. I think this has caused a detached and dissatisfied energy with things outside of them. I think they battle things like depression, and the word insomnia just came through. I think because your person is very physically attractive and magnetic, people overlook their pain a lot. They may struggle being vulnerable because of that but I feel like the people attracted to this pile could be the opposite. I see the universe divinely orchestrating this connection for their healing. With the lovers card being here, I think they deeply crave emotional availability and to be truly in harmony with their own emotions. This might be someone you met already, I get a strong sense of childhood nostalgia with this person.

HOW THEY TREAT YOU

the sun, seven of pentacles, the hanged man, the well, strength, queen of pentacles

I see them abandoning and sacrificing parts of themselves that do not serve your relationship. I see them working incredibly hard to make your relationship happy and healthy. I think this person suppresses their depression around you, I'm seeing them specifically shine a light on all their best traits, showing off the best parts of themselves hoping it will be enough to compensate for their shadow side. Aww pile four I see them working to be emotionally balanced in this relationship. Aside from that I think their love language is acts of service. I see them being very productive in your relationship, cooking, cleaning, doing simple yet thoughtful tasks for you. I think you motivate them to work harder because I see them wanting to fulfill you financially. To take care of all your wants and needs. I see them taking you down a new journey with them, a journey filled with harmony, divine union and emotional vulnerability. The way they treat you transforms as your relationship continues to grow and blossom.

Thanks for reading 🩷🩷 I love feedback !!! <33

- C

#fs pac #crush pac #pac #pac reading #crush tarot #love tarot reading #tarot love #tarot #pick a pile #pick a picture #crush pick a card #future spouse reading #future spouse tarot #pac fs

1K notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 1 year ago

Note

Can you make a fic with a dark coriolanus x reader

Post Lucy running away where he stays a peace keeper for some time and he helped reader avoid being picked for the games and he abuses his power as peace keeper against reader whom he helped and holds it over her head (she has no family but her friends are like family) and he does all types of fucked up stuff to her sexually and he fetishizes her for being a woc (reader is a woman of color) and he fetishizes her skin or something and he keeps saying all creepy stuff and he then marries her (after convincing her no one would want her after him) and parades her around and shows off to capitol ppl who also fetishize her and she becomes basically his property with a creepy nickname and you pick the ending

BROWN JEWEL

pairing: dark!coriolanus snow x fem!poc!reader

summary: he was a lifeline and you’d grabbed on in hopes to avoid the reaping, but you were coriolanus’ obsession and he was not going to let you go.

warnings: obsession, abuse of power, nc touching, threats, forced marriage, fetishisation of skin color?? non-con (p in v), public sex, pregnancy, forced marriage, jealousy of infants? kisses, kinda stockholm/reader gives in

wordcount: 3.1k

a/n: audibly gasped reading this rq (i did change it around a bit since some of it i was unsure of how to write and if i felt comfy doing it) i went off track for sure

this was your last year for being involved with the reaping.

just tomorrow then you'd be in the clear for the rest of your life.

you had friends who relied on you, and their families which were practically your own. you’d been raised with them after your parents passed and you owed them your life. you were an amazing hunter and your game kept them going. you were skilled with hunting, medicine, literate because of your best friends mother. you helped them all in so many ways and you knew they needed you.

through your older years, you began to realise you weren’t exactly the same as your friends. their light skin and light eyes in contrast to your darker tones were always a reminder of your unshared bloodline. yet they never treated you any differently.

you had to live for them.

so it was how you ended up in the tree line by the peacekeepers barracks. hoping to bribe one into pulling your name from the bowl before it was placed infront of the justice building. what you didn’t expect was for a soldier to find you first.

“what’re you doing here?” he spoke from behind you as you stumbled to get up. “i... i wanted to talk to someone, to try and uhm, get them to do something for me.” he exuded confidence with his chin in the air and his grip on his gun. he obviously thought he was better than you. “what do you want me to do for you?” you sighed, “i was hoping, to get my name taken out of the reaping bowl.” he tilted his head, a smirk on his face and you wanted to peel your skin off with the way he was looking at you.

“come closer.” and you did, stepping into the moonlight. he found you to be gorgeous, glowing. “i’ll do it.” your eyes widened as you smiled, “thank you!” and he took a step closer to you, “but what will i get in return?”

and that’s when you should’ve run for the hills.

at the reaping ceremony, he coincidentally placed himself right next to your row. his stares were harsh on your back. your hands were sweating and you couldn’t think straight until that name was called, and it wasn’t yours.

“we’re safe.” your friend whispered into your ear as you smiled at her, “yeah, we are.” but for some reason you weren’t convinced. the peacekeeper was on you like a shadow ever since the day before. on the walk home he was following you and you knew it, but if you confronted him you had no clue what he’d do to you. so you felt it best to keep your head down, and get home. you didn’t expect for him to barge his way in.

“what’re you doing?” your voice was shaky and you could feel the perspiration on you, for someone reason this man made your body go haywire and you wanted to leave. “why? can’t i come see the pretty girl i saved?” your head was facing downwards as you began to mumble, “my names only in eight times, my odds were low anyways. a lot of people took tessera.” you heard him click his tongue, tutting and shaking his head in disagreement, “seven.”

he was right infront of you now, and as he bent down to whisper in your ear, you froze up, “i don’t do things for free y/n. when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect.” he held your face in his hand as you asked, “what’s your name?” he smiled, “coriolanus, but you can call me corio.” and he held you to it.

every time you saw him he’d be unbelievably smug.

even your friends noticed, “he keeps staring at you, that peacekeeper.” you were having a night out, your senses flooded with music and laughter. but not too far away was coriolanus, downing his beer. you shifted around before slyly looking his way. “it’s probably nothing. you know how these peacekeepers are. i think i’m going to head home.” you kissed her cheek before making your way out and to your home.

you were only a few minutes away when you took notice of the shadow behind you, lurking. “y/n.” you stopped in your tracks and turned his way. “corio.” he grinned at the nickname you used. his expression should've warned you, his words rung through your mind.

an intoxicated man was a dangerous one.

"when i want something from you, and i do, i will come to collect."

corio held you against the shabby wall as his hands held you in place. your pants swamped at your ankles as he rutted into you harshly. “stay quiet for me yeah?” your hands shoved at his chest but it seemed to be pointless.

“please, please corio not here.” coriolanus couldn’t bring himself to listen to you, and he sure as hell didn’t care if someone saw. what were they going to do? you were his, you needed to realise that. the quicker you did the easier it would be for you. your cries and protests went in one ear and out the other, “shh, i’ve got you. don’t worry.” he cooed, ignoring your pleas.

you felt humiliated, treated like trash. taken in an alleyway like a whore, as coriolanus continued on. your legs felt like jelly and your weight rested on the wall behind. his hands came up to lower your shirt, your breasts spilling out. “fuck, you’re made for me. all mine.” he groaned as he felt your walls tighten around his cock.

“come for me baby. come on.” you didn’t want to, you wanted to run away from him but your breath was laboured as your head lolled back. but even with that he wasn’t done with you. he wanted more. he wanted all of you and he wouldn’t stop until he’d had enough. you weren’t sure if he’d ever get his fill.

your cheeks burned as you walked back to your home, cum-stained panties and shame filling you to the brim. acquaintances walked past, you smiled and waved with fake kindness. your feet dragged along, your legs shaky and hands trembling. you wanted to drag the walk out as long as possible.

coriolanus could tell, but he couldn’t do anything yet. so he grit his teeth and walked with determination.

he’d punish you later.

and it was all you knew. almost every night corio crawled into your home, took you all over the house till dawn. and in return you were able to provide your family with everything they could want.

dana has a cold?

the medicine was at the front door hours later.

peter hurt himself at the mines?

a first aid kit was ready to be picked up by noon.

not a single person around you was hungry, sick or uncared for. all thanks to coriolanus. your friends were able to infer where all your resources came from, but you’d never asked for their aid.

you just wanted to help them, in any way you could.

what you didn’t anticipate was coriolanus in your home, tossing your nicest clothes into a suitcase. the jewellery he’d bought, shoes etc. “what’s going on? why are you packing my things?” he didn’t respond, he just kept packing, moving around the room and throwing in things he deemed important.

“we’re leaving, back to the capitol. you’re coming with me, now help me pack.” you grabbed his wrist in a moment of anger, forgetting your place. “let. go. now.” he demanded as you retracted your hand, “i’m sorry. but, you need to talk to me. i’m not going to the capitol corio, this is my home.” you should’ve known he was going to hate your words.

he grabbed your wrists, fingers digging in as you cried out in pain. “you are coming with me, otherwise i am more than happy to hurt you. all the supplies for your friends? gone. you know i won’t hesitate to hurt them. so if you want them to be taken care of, you’ll listen to me. now pack your things and shut up.” he spit out as you pulled away from him.

you didn’t even get to say goodbye.

the capitol scared you to no extent. the prying eyes, the excessive, almost wasteful, wealth and resources. you felt uncomfortable in your own skin. the people of panem viewed you to be a rare phenomenon. as if darker skin was unattainable. it was nothing like district 12, and you knew you’d never fully fit in. but corio wouldn’t let that be.

coriolanus thrived under dr gaul. overtime he’d been provided with an apartment and inheritance courtesy of the plinths and he was happy to indulge his sweet girl with whatever she could wish for.

the most expensive silks, finest jewels. you felt like a little porcelain doll, with multiple faces. you were bound to crack.

by the time coriolanus snow rose to be the president of panem, all the fight in your body was a distant memory, a shell of your former self. "you have everything you could ever wish for," according to your husband, "but you still think of them." his words were filled with disdain but held an ounce of truth.

your heart yearned for home. for peters terrible cooking. for dana’s flower crowns. nights out with your friends singing your heart out before sneaking out to the lake a certain covey had let slip on. a simple life.

but it all felt to be out of your grasp, far in the back of your mind.

presidential campaigns, parties, shopping, and super rich kids with nothing but fake friends. it was all your new normal. the residents of panem tolerated you for being the first lady of panem, admired you for your looks, and despised you for your background.

you’d never felt more alone.

you found solace in your children. ciron, your baby boy. only five years old but undeniably bright. he was ahead of most children his age in studies, able to remember so much in such a small mind. he was the spitting image of coriolanus. the old coriolanus. curly blonde hair, striking blue eyes. but his kindness, his care for others? that was all his mother. he was the perfect mix, and a huge mommy’s boy. the second he learned something knew he rambled on about it, only to you. he loved to play with your hair, curling it around his fingers.

“now we match mommy!” he smiled as you picked him up, resting him on your hip. “now i’m almost as pretty as you baby.” you teased as you attacked him with kisses on his face. he squirmed in your arms, small hands coming to cover his face. the noise seemed to wake caroline, her squeals and cries echoing through the home.

“shh, we have to be quiet okay?” ciron nodded as the two of you made your way to her nursery. it was caroline’s first birthday today, and coriolanus had spared no expense on your account. the celebration was to be held at your home, filled with people who couldn’t care less. but you just wanted to give her what you never had. a party at the presidents house was rare, and a lot of the hadn’t seen you in a while.

caroline was all you. darker skin than ciron, olive like. brown eyes and dark hair.

during your pregnancy with ciron, coriolanus showed you off to the people. you were regularly seen out and about, at parties, shopping, walking etc. coriolanus took any opportunity to parade you about to the people of panem. something out of their reach but so sweet, so beautiful. you despised it, being seen as nothing more than his property.

“she’s a fine girl you have coriolanus.” grandma’am spoke as she pinched your cheeks, “just have to take the district out of her.” as if you were an animal to be dissected.

“are there any more of her type?” the man joked as coriolanus’s hand tightened on your waist.

you’d always loved yourself, your hair, your skin color, your body. but it all seemed to be under coriolanus’s ownership the second you’d allowed him to take you to the captiol. no one cared about you. no one bothered to help. they just admired and touched when they could.

so you’d plead with him, begging him to let you rest for the remainder of your pregnancy. he surprisingly agreed, letting you confine yourself to your shared room.

and with cirons birth, you felt hope. his wide eyes, consuming all he could with his sight, his tiny fingers wrapping around your finger. your heart swelled with joy at his face, your saving grace.

coriolanus wanted to pry him from your fingers. for the next few weeks your attention was purely on the boy and coriolanus began to feel neglected. he was already traumatised from his own mothers passing, his sister taking her life. with the announcement of your own pregnancy the thoughts poured in.

would the baby take you too?

would he be forced to listen to your screams?

would he have to raise the baby he despised?

he hadn’t even met your child yet and he'd already made his mind up. the baby was no good, an heir was needed of course but at the cost of his wife? would he pay the price?

your screams of agony and pain clawed at his throat. he felt sick, bile rising as he forced it down. coriolanus would not be seen as weak. but he couldn’t help himself, your hands clutched onto his as a lifeline. your pleas for aid, and coriolanus could do nothing. helpless.

the finest doctors in panem, machinery and medicine yet it all seemed useless.

to you it was worth it, the second you held him in your arms. all the pain in the world if it meant you’d have him as the outcome. one of the nurses placed a pair of scissors in his hands, urging him to cut the cord as coriolanus masked his disgust.

snip!

tigris cooed over the baby as lethargy hung over you like a cloud. “isn’t he the sweetest coriolanus?” all he managed was a nod, his focus on you.

his strong wife, who’d given way to new life. your eyes were fluttering close as you murmured, “ciron.” the doctors and nurses gleefully agreed, “what a fine name!” the head doctor announced as he held him in his arms, a nurse taking him away to be cleaned.

and after all that, you were pregnant once more. another child for the happy family but another nuisance in his eyes between yourself and him.

all you ever cared about was the kids.

“has caroline eaten?”

“is ciron awake?”

“is his teacher here yet?”

“coriolanus, i think we need to take ciron shopping again. he’s growing so quickly!” he knew he should’ve been happy. but all he wanted was for you to be his again. you were always too tired for him, already asleep with ciron by your side, taking his place.

or you were breastfeeding caroline, meaning that he was sure he wasn’t going to get to feel you up that night. too sore, too tired, not in the mood. he couldn’t catch a break.

you’d decided to have caroline and ciron match. baby blue, how sweet!

it’d only been about an hour in and you’d had enough. these people never really moved on. the same comments about how special you were, how lucky you were. compliments stuffed down your throat you were sure you’d gag.

you grounded yourself with caroline, clutching onto her as coriolanus made the rounds. “anna!” you shouted out to one of your servers. “yes, mrs snow?” you refrained from rolling your eyes at the last name, “bring the cake out, now please.” she wasn’t sure, “mr snow said-” you smiled at her, “caroline’s getting fussy, better if we blow the candles out now so i can feed her and get her to bed.” she scurried away to get everything in order as coriolanus found you.

“sweetheart. you can’t hide the birthday girl at her party.” you chuckled, “i know, i know. she’s getting tired, we’re going to have to get the candles out early. cirons already sleepy too, he worked really hard today. i’m so proud of him.” you beamed as coriolanus took a sip from his glass, “oh did he?” he sneered. you were about to reply but the cake being carried out took your attention. “look sweetie! it’s your cake!” caroline lifted her head from your shoulder as you pointed at it.

“come on corio.” he downed his drink before following along. maybe if he was nice you’d fuck him tonight.

the four of you were a picture perfect family, cameras shuttered as everyone sang for caroline. she rested on your side as ciron stood in front of coriolanus, his hands resting on his sons shoulders. a smile plastered on his face. “happy birthday to you!” you bent down with caroline to blow the candles out as everyone cheered.

for once, you felt happy.

you sat infront of caroline’s crib, rocking it side to side. it was around 12 now, the party packed up, ciron in bed sleeping soundly, and coriolanus in his study. it’d been a while since you and coriolanus had been together. your pregnancy with caroline was risky according to doctors and you were told to take it easy. it’d been at least two months since his last time with you, and god he needed release.

once you figured she was asleep you made your way to corios study. “corio? you busy?” you peaked your head through the door to find corio writing away. “come in.” you closed the door behind you as he rolled back in his seat, patting his lap as you plopped down.

“you want something?” you rested your head in the crook of neck, roses infiltrating your senses. “m’ tired, wanna sleep with you.” coriolanus was taken aback for once, in his eyes you’d deprived him of your presence for so long and here you were wanting for him. coriolanus would have to settle for now. he caressed your cheek, “alright, come on.” his arm lifted your legs and you interlaced your fingers behind his neck.

over your time with coriolanus you’d learned to like things about him, since there was no point in you hating him anymore. his voice in the night, whispering to you. his soft hands washing your hair. when he was relaxed, the two of you would bask in eachothers presence, reading silently. baths together, his hands raking through your hair, trailing over your body with care. and as the two of you slept together, in a tight embrace, coriolanus felt at ease.

his brown jewel, all to himself.

#hunger games x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #dark!coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #yandere coriolanus snow

2K notes · View notes

helianthus-tarot · 7 months ago

Text

SELF: What do you need to know the most about your life dream

This is more about a big dream that you have, not really about just a random goal. Think of your specific dream and choose a pile. I posted the extended version on my Patreon which includes more details!: potential success if you pursue this dream, practical actions that can help increase the likelihood of success, what sabotages this dream? 🧐📝🔥

Disclaimer: Here | Instagram: Here

Instructions: Focus on the topic and ask yourself the question. Choose a number/picture that you feel the most drawn to or that you can’t stop looking at. Trust your intuition. May the message resonate. Let me know which pile you choose! Feedback is appreciated!

Like my readings? Tip here!

PILE 1

What do you need to know the most: Justice, The Chariot, Page of Wands, The Star.

You are meant to be drawn to this path. For some of you, it’s not necessarily that it's been fated for you since the beginning of time, but it may be the logical result or outcome of what you have been through. There are many paths that are possible for you, but what you have experienced in life so far (or a certain life experience) has made you notice or get drawn to this path in particular; it’ll make sense if you take a step back and look at it. For some of you, especially if you have been trying so hard (could be related to this dream or just your life in general), this dream may actually be a reward for your persistence. It may also be something that ties to your sense of empowerment; maybe it reminds you of your control over your life, of your persistence and determination, maybe it gives you hope and keeps you believing in a better future. When you engage in the pursuit of this dream/goal, you may find yourself easily inspired by it, excited and curious. It ignites passion in you.

I’m not sure what dream this is but if you pursue it, it may end up putting you in a situation or a path where you will use and share the life lessons that you’ve learned; you may end up feeling called or being in a position where you can speak your truth, share your insights and understandings. Which can have an effect of making people aware of those truths. I don’t want to use the word ‘teaching’ because it can sound like a saviour complex, but people may get enlightened by what you share, and some of them may find healing from it. You will too, I think it can be a form of healing for you as well. For some of you this may also involve the themes of justice, fairness, balance, understanding cause-and-effects, interconnectivity of the universe and everything in it, the spirit and the mind.

There’s also a wealth of inspiration that can be gained if you pursue this dream. You will probably never lack inspiration, ideas, insights or understandings. It may also help you keep your mind sharp, your soul optimistic, peaceful yet brave and determined. The dream/goal may require tenacity however, it may require you to keep your eye on the prize. The beginning is always the hardest, especially when it involves mastering skills. But once you’ve mastered the skills, that’s when you can play around, explore and experiment. So the possibility of being able to have fun is here in the cards, you just have to keep pushing through.

EXTENDED VERSION IS ON PATREON! Will you be successful if you pursue this dream? What specific actions can you take to increase the likelihood of success? And what exactly sabotages your dream? Find out here! 🧐📝🔥

PILE 2

What do you need to know the most: The Star, King of Pentacles, Ace of Cups (The Tower), 3 of Cups, The Emperor.

Similar to the previous pile, you are probably meant to feel drawn to this path. But it’s clearer for this pile that this dream/goal is something that truly resonates with you; it’s a soul desire. For some of you it’s tied to what you have been envisioning for yourself, or what you have been wishing for. This dream may also be something that you feel drawn to or realise you are interested in after you went through some kind of upheaval in your life. This next message is supposed to be in the next section, but it comes up here; there’s a strong potential of success. This is something that can stay in your life if you pursue it, or it’s something that can have a lifelong impact on your life; the effects and gains will stay with you. I think you have all the resources and skills that you need to make this dream or goal happen. For some of you, there's someone who can help you (they have the resources that you need); this may be an older man, but it could simply be an earth sign/influenced person who’s mature or in a position of power.

For others of you, this is a dream/goal that you’ve been building yourself for; maybe you have learned a lot of skills, or have built your life in a way that allows you to pursue this dream, and the message here is that it’s working for you, it does help make things more stable or solid, which gives you the ability to pursue this dream. Pursuing this dream will lead to a stable life, materially and emotionally. This dream may also involve other people in some way. Either it will lead you to interact with a community or a group of people, or it will lead to you finding your own community or a group of friends who support and celebrate you and what you do. This dream/goal will lead to more relationships, not necessarily romantic. So it can also lead to an emotionally fulfilling life, you’ll build better relationships if you pursue this dream; especially if you have experienced a lot of problems or unpleasant revelations in your connections with people.

For a few of you, pursuing this dream can also lead to intense emotional experiences, though I’m not getting bad energy from this, so they are probably not toxic, just maybe very revealing and awakening. Pursuing this dream may require you to be stubborn and quietly persistent. The dream just overall feels like... it’s something within your grasp. Some of you may end up being an authority in your field; or you may end up being the master, mentor, or someone powerful or highly regarded in this field; maybe people will look up to you or ask for advice from you especially if they have the same dream or goal. If this is related to an industry; your name could end up being known in that industry. You have a potential to attain or build a strong presence in your field.

PILE 3

What do you need to know the most: Ace of Wands, 7 of Pentacles, The Magician, 2 of Swords.

Many of you may be doubting this dream/goal. Some of you aren’t confident in your skills or ability to make it happen; some of you are torn between two or several different paths. It feels like, you want it but at the same time, because you are doubting yourself, you think you should take another path instead, because that path seems better or more realistic for you. Your internal dilemma is probably just a part of the process, see it as an opportunity to look deeper into yourself; and if you look deeper, you may find the answer you’re looking for, you may end up finding the passion that can end up making you feel braver and determined about this dream. You may need to get in touch with that fire, that passion and ride it, let it motivates and drives you forward despite your doubts and uncertainty.

Some of you are doubting this dream because it takes a lot of work to be successful, or at least you think so. You think it requires a lot from you, and you aren’t sure if you want to commit to that. I can’t tell you to commit and walk on this path if you don’t want to; but you know that quote, “anything worth having don't come easy”, so that may be the case here. You have your choice, of course. Because this dream may require you to put in the work; but with The Magician here as well, I think you can actually do it. You have the skills that you need, or the talent that can lead to you mastering the skills needed to make this dream a reality. This dream may require you to be creative, or to think outside the box, to dare to experiment and mix different things, methods, steps, and see what you can come up with. It does require confidence, specifically the audacity (lol) to believe there’s value in what you do; because The Magician also seems like arrogant brilliance to me lol, so like a genius believing in their speculation/theory and working hard to prove it, even if it looks kinda silly and lowkey insane to other people.

If you pursue this dream, there may times when things seem like they aren’t moving, or there may be times when you feel like you can’t make it work; but you are encouraged to lean back into The Magician energy. Either believe in your ability and keep trying, or see if there's anything you can change and improve; this may require a creative approach. The dream may take time to come to fruition, so if you decide to pursue it, you may need to stay in touch with the burning passion that makes you want to take this path. Some days motivation may not be enough, some days you may need discipline and consistency. But again, like I said, you’ve got what it takes to make your dream a reality. Don’t overthink it. I’m not getting other messages for you. I think your main problem is your doubt, it feels like you keep mulling it over and feel discouraged and bored by it.

PILE 4

What do you need to know the most: The Emperor, Page of Wands, The Moon, The Hermit Rx (10 of Wands), 9 of Wands.

For some of you, this is less about your dream and more about your situation. You may have chosen a path that you initially thought was the right one for you; but you’ve had to struggle a lot to make it work, and perhaps you’re wondering if it’s indeed the right one for you. There’s no straightforward answer to that question in the cards, you may need to look within and determine the subconscious factors that have influenced your decision. It could have something to do with your father, your paternal influence, or your tradition. It could be coming from the need to be strong for yourself, for example, subconsciously you think this is the only path forward because you need to be strong for yourself and do what needs to be done. For some of you, this message may be completely unrelated to the dream you are asking about in this PAC. For others of you, it is related.

Anyway, let’s get into the dream itself. This dream may be a life lesson. I mean, if you pursue this dream, you could end up learning and growing but there’s also a possibility that you’ll find a different thing at the end of this journey. I don’t want to say the dream is not meant for you, because this sounds so fatalistic, anything is possible if you really want something. But this does feel like a path that people take and then end up realising that it’s not for them, but they still learn from it and their soul is still transformed by it. That’s what this dream feels like. The dream/goal feels like a way for you to grow. You have a choice not to take this path, there is a possibility that you can get the same growth on a different path, maybe it’ll be more palatable or easier, who knows. The dream we’re talking about here may involve things that can potentially trigger your wounds, or touch your wounds in some way. It’ll make you look within and learn. So at times, it may feel difficult and painful.

Some of you are being encouraged to explore other possibilities; you don’t have to immediately commit yourself to something, just lightly explore your options, look further than what’s in front of you, consider what ifs, entertain other things or paths that draw you in and see if it's something you are interested in pursuing. Even if you end up choosing this dream anyway, maybe those other things can make you feel more optimistic or energised about your dream. Curiosity and inspiration may be the key that holds your answer or the things that can lead you to your answer. You can also get back in touch with your inner child; for some of you, the answer is in your childhood interest/passion, or what inspired you when you were young. Some of you may want to do some shadow work or introspection before you continue with this dream; because some of your decisions may be highly influenced by your wounds; i.e. you make a certain decision because you want to avoid something, or because you want to fulfil a need that can actually be fulfilled in another, better way.

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #tarot readers #tarot community #divination #pick a picture #free tarot readings #pick an image #free tarot #pac #spirituality #spiritual growth #shadow work #success #dreams #self improvement

480 notes · View notes

dolicekiss · 6 months ago

Note

Hello there,

If ur still taking Hannibal requests, could you potentially do a yandete Hannibal x reader (one-shot or headcanon it doesn't really matter) where the reader is an author who recently just came put with a new novel that got alot of popularity.

The reason it intrigued Hannibal so much is that the antagonist of the novel is based off the Chesapeake Ripper. Feeling flattered, Hannibal goes to one of her book signings, where he finds her absolutely captivating in person. What extents would this man do to get her attention?

♡: can i just say how descriptive some of y'all are with this.. this is literally book worthy 😭 also let me know if you want another part :[

Blood Ink

PAIRING: Yandere!Hannibal Lecter X Author!reader

CONTENT WARNING: dark hannibal, implied stalking, murder, mention of dead body, yandere behavior, unhinged hannibal, breaking in, leaving creepy little notes, obsessed hannibal

SYNOPSIS: Your book had gained immense popularity and you were quite the talk of the city, showing up in every article and news but capturing Hannibal Lecter’s attention was the worst thing ever, especially when you'd written an antagonist based off the Chesapeake ripper. Hannibal was flattered and in awe of how to I described him and his curiosity grew but so did his infatuation with you when he saw you.

Hannibal was flattered.

Completely amused by how you wrote depiction of him, how well you understood him despite never crossing paths.

Your abundance of understanding when it came to the mind of the killer was not only something he swooned over but how beautifully you wrote down all his murders impressed him, like they were pieces of art. It nearly worked to arouse him in a sense he craved to see you.

They were art, indeed.

Hannibal saw it that way, he saw beauty where most people saw something monstrous, something atrocious. You understood that and Hannibal had to meet you.

You'd written a book about him, a well written — descriptive book, showing off your skills of a true writer. A fan of literature he was and you had caught yourself the worst kind of attention.

The Chesapeake Ripper’s.

He had to meet you, had to see who this woman was who'd written such gruesome details about his murders. The book also included some fictional content, such as the Chesapeake Ripper committing crimes he'd never committed in the real world.

But Hannibal knew you'd included that only to add depth to him, to help the readers understand the beautiful cruelty of Hannibal Lecter.

After spending multiple hours on the internet and reading tabloids about you, watching your interviews, reading articles regarding your personal life and your work life, Hannibal finally made the decision to visit you at one of your book signings.

Your book was controversial, as many people accused you of using a serial killer as an antagonist in your book, giving him a rise in fame but it was never mentioned the book was about the Chesapeake Ripper at all. Only the antagonist had been based off him.

Hannibal was restless, so he grabbed his coat and left for your book signing which took place at a well known book store, in Baltimore too.

You were so close to him.

This had to be fate playing its game.

When Hannibal entered into the crowded book store, there you were. A huge smile decorated your features as you moved your lips to engage in a conversation with one of your fans. Hair up in a neat french bun, only a few strands framing your face — nails freshly done and sharp, resting against your soft beautifully sculpted face.

You were absolutely breathtaking.

Hannibal had seen your picture but the electronic devices did no justice to your beauty.

Hannibal felt his heart give birth to a foreign sensation, spreading through his chest and mixing in with the veins in his body. The copper and the darkness becoming one. He was completely captivated by the mere sight of you and he hadn't even introduced himself yet.

You let out a cheery laugh, nodding your head at the person in front of you before lowering your gaze, fingers holding a marker tightly to sign on the first page of your book. Hannibal analyzed closely, how swiftly your fingers moved and how beautiful they were.

He, for a split moment, imagined them decorated on a plate with vegetables.

Hannibal inhaled a deep breath, a futile attempt to regain his composure that he was beginning to lose control over at the mere sight of you.

You were a sweetheart, from how you interacted with your fans and how full of life you seemed. Deep inside his heart he hoped that you were just the same on the inside too.

Hand clasped around your book, he walked into the line. Awaiting for the people in front of him to get their books signed. He was a patient man but right now, his restlessness almost made him want to crush through the people and get to you.

Finally when his turn arrived, Hannibal slid the book over to you on the beige table. You greeted him with that gleaming smile of yours, bright enough to light up the whole room and the darkness which had bloomed in his chest when he was only a little boy.

Hannibal wasn't aware that catching a whiff of you would consume him like this but here he was, struggling to keep himself from tipping over the edge. Your scent reminded him of flowers, a fluorescent garden with bright sun rays cascading down upon it. Giving it light and life. Growing drunk on it.

His nostrils flared, inhaling more of the sweet perfume you'd adorned yourself with like some obsessed puppy. God, he was fucking dizzy over how sugary you smelled and the man couldn't get enough of it. Like old restored wine, he craved to drown you down and savor you against his tongue.

“Beautiful writing skills you've got.” Hannibal complimented with a gentle smile. Your cheeks heated up, switching to a shade of rosette.

Your eyes sparkled. “Thank you. I guess you could say I put my soul into writing this book.”

Well you just dug yourself a deeper hole than you were in before by saying that. Hannibal’s heart fluttered at your words. You'd invested your soul into writing about him, him only and that fact made him feel like he was on cloud nine.

His smile lines deepened, watching as you reached for the book and flipped it open. Fingers tightly enveloping the marker between them, you scribbled your signature on the white paper along with your initials.

“You must have a really beautiful soul then.” Hannibal said and you swallowed. His politeness and his charm worked in mysterious ways to pull you towards him but Hannibal knew just by approaching you as a fan — which he was, wouldn't really work.

He had to do more to gain your attention, your full focus.

You slid his book back over to him and Hannibal nodded, picking it up. “It was a pleasure seeing you in person. Do you mind if I ask you a question, miss?”

You raised a brow but then slowly nodded.

Hannibal’s lips curved up. “Do you believe that the Chesapeake Ripper might read this book one day?”

Your brows furrowed. Hannibal’s question was peculiarly interesting, different than the questions others had for you. Fans excited to know about the inspiration behind the book, some aching to know where you'd come up with the sinister plot. But none like this.

Hannibal’s question had crossed your mind on multiple occasions.

“Maybe but if he does, I would be interested in knowing his opinion on the book.” You responded truthfully.

That was all Hannibal needed. He stared at you, with a longing foreign to you and then he nodded. You watched him walk out of the book store as your gaze clung to him. Something inside you told you this wouldn't be the first time you'd see this man.

You shook your head and signed the rest of the books, answering all the curious questions about your books and then leaving when the event had ended. It had gotten late and you swung your leather bag over your shoulder, heels clicking against the road when you crossed it to head to your car.

The night was dark and quiet — peace tainting spreading to corner, only the sound of crickets chatting could be heard along with the clicking of your pencil heels echoing in the vast space.

Before you could enter your car, a piece of paper stuck to the front glass of your car caught your attention. With a bemused expression on your face, you reached for it and ripped the sticky note off the glass.

As your gaze ran over the content of it, your hands began to tremble.

An absolute beauty you are. You have captured my mind, heart and soul with your enthralling words. Be careful, my Dearest.

You blinked, head immediately snapping up and gaze flickering all over the area you were in. Hoping you'd find someone who left this note but you were all alone, a deep silence greeting you. Panic filled you but your brain provided you with some reassurance.

A note left by a fan.

Maybe an admirer of your writing.

That had to be it.

Of course that was it. You released a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “Calm down, it's probably nothing.”

You took the note in your hand and got into your car, twisting the key into ignition and driving off to your house. On your way home, your mind kept repeating the words written in beautiful calligraphy over the paper. The twists of each letter — as if love had been poured into it.

You let out a breath, hoping that along with the run rising tomorrow you'd forget about this.

You preferred solitude and peace, not fond of the city so the area you lived in was quitw distant and overall stayed underneath complete silence. Cold breeze caressed your face as you drove by and when you finally reached home, you stepped out of the car with the intention to hit the bed.

Your arm throbbed from the amount of books you'd signed but you loved it. You loved writing down your thoughts, different plot lines. Invention of different characters was your coping mechanism.

You didn't know that when the next day you'd wake up, a horrible news would be awaiting you.

— ♡ —

Morning came by a flash.

You weren't typically cheerful but you weren't also grumpy either. An optimist was what you called yourself. You always looked forward to new days, trying to carry a positive mindset with you in life.

Coffee and pancakes was your go to breakfast.

Once you'd prepared it, you sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Flipping through the channels while sipping onto your delicious, hot piping coffee which eased the prickling sensation caused by the shivering cold.

But then you stopped.

Eyes widening in horror over the news that flashed before you.

“The Chesapeake Ripper strikes again, taking another victim under his hold. This time it is an unidentified man in his thirties who was found dead last night in a forest. The FBI claims it was the Chesapeake Ripper who put up quite the show of the body.”

You blinked profusely.

The Ripper had stopped killing, quite for some time now. So why was he killing again? You were bemused but you didn't let it get to your head. A disturbing emotion seeped into your chest, anxiety spreading and you lost your appetite.

You decided it'd be best to go under the radar for now, as you'd written about the man.

There was a knock on the door and your panicked gaze switched to it. Placing your mug down, you stood up and walked to unlock the door. It revealed an FBI agent, also known as Will Graham. You'd come across tabloids about the compassionate empath who often helped with catching the murderers.

“Yes?”

Will raised his hand and you noticed he was holding your book. “You wrote this book?”

You nodded your head, an apprehensive feeling being born. “I did. Why?”

Will Graham invited himself in, gaze analyzing your home in scrutiny. You were taken aback by his behavior but still didn't say a word, as he was an FBI agent, a murder had been committed by the Chesapeake Ripper and he was holding your book.

“I'm sure you're aware of the murder that took place last night.” You couldn't understand what that had to do with you but you still heard him out, waiting for him to continue.

“Let's say our killer was heavily inspired by your book. Do you have anything to say about that?”

Your lips parted in confusion, brows furrowed as you were left flummoxed by the man's words. It's true you'd taken inspiration from the Chesapeake Ripper but that was all there was to it. There was no way someone had taken what you'd written to heart.

You took a step back. “I don't get this, agent Graham. What do you exactly mean by inspired?”

“I've read the book, miss. There are a few murder scenes which are fictional, never committed by the Chesapeake Ripper.” He explained, holding out printed parts of your own book. You slowly took them and then you were handed the photographs from the murder scene.

As your gaze swiped over it, your jaw dropped.

No way.

There was no way.

“No.” You whispered.

Exactly what you'd written, what you'd described, how you described it and even imagined it when you wrote it down. It was the same, a carbon copy like you yourself had committed the crime. You yourself had decorated the fucking set up.

You pressed a hand over your chest, feeling nauseous.

“Since they were fictional, the killer took it upon himself to bring them to life. Manifest them into reality, miss.” Your breathing grew uneven. A pang of guilt blossoming in your ribcage when your eyes glided over the dead body wrapped in dreadful vines, decorated with flowers.

Lily of the valley and Belladona.

Poisonous but beautiful flowers they were.

Your chest tightened.

Will noticed the raw fear and uncomfort spread on your face. It was exactly the same as what you'd written. Every detail, every touch, every little item was perfectly presented in the way you'd imagined it to be when you wrote it down. When you took hint of the body, your face became more flustered.

Exactly from the description of your book.

Blonde, male, short height and lean frame.

Just exactly the way you'd written him down and you looked at Will. “O-Organs. Is he missing a liver?”

Will nodded and that made you sick to your damn stomach.

Someone was out there — probably the Chesapeake Ripper and he had read your book.

This was a message.

To tell you he'd read your book.

Your fingers trembled and their grasp loosened over the pieces of paper, as well as the photographs. Falling to the floor.

Will kneeled down to gather them and then stood back on his feet.

“I-I don't know. I h-have no idea why he's doing this.” You stumbled over your words, palm pressing into your chest as your forehead became sweaty.

You were a mess.

“Calm down, please.” Will said, to reassure you. You could sense a panic attack knocking at the doors of your brain, struggling to breathe.

But you tried to calm yourself down. You weren't responsible for this as much as you felt like it. The fucking crime scene looked like you'd committed it, no wonder the FBI had come knocking on your damn door. This was going to sabotage you but at least they were aware someone else was doing the kills.

That calmed you down a little.

But you were still on edge. Taken aback from the abrupt change brought in one night.

“Am I a suspect?” You asked and Will shook his head. That relieved you a little.

After Will was done asking you some questions regarding the book and if there was anyone who you had shared the contents of it before the book was released, he left and you were all alone.

The scenes where the antagonist committed the fictional murders were completely out of your imagination. All thought about under the dark night and the glimmering stars.

You went to the kitchen to fetch yourself a glass of water and the cold water worked sufficiently to hydrate your parched mouth and throat.

You went into your room to grab your laptop, in hopes that you might find something on the internet. Leaning down, you tried to pick it up from your bed but stalled. A piece of paper capturing your attention. Folded neatly underneath your pillow.

Your breath hitched.

It was eerily similar to the paper that was stuck to your glass.

Heart beat picking up and hands beginning to shake, you reached for the paper and picked it up. As you unfolded it with bated breaths, your eyes widened.

Same hand writing, different words.

No amount of words were capable enough to describe the fear that you felt in that very moment when your gaze captured and read each and every word.

I hope you like what I prepared for you, my Dearest. There is more to come, please cherish and appreciate my gifts for you.

Tears stung your eyes vision blurry. You thought that was it but no. There was more, in the lower corner of the paper. You squinted your eyes and what you read next made you drop the note.

I must say, you are a gorgeous sight when you sleep.

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #hannibal nbc #nbc hannibal #hannibal one shot #hannibal lecter x reader #tw yandere #mads mikkelsen fanfic #mads mikkelsen #will graham #hannibal headcanons #dark hannibal lecter

500 notes · View notes

audliminal · 2 months ago

Text

Survivability Bias Pt 5

Masterpost Ao3

“So hypothetically,” Superboy begins, glancing over at Robin. “Say I met another meta, and they, like, needed a civilian identity...” He trails off, listening intently. Trying to get anything from Robin's expression is pointless - between his skill at maintaining his composure, and the expression obscuring mask, there's not a lot to be read on his face. Instead Superboy focuses on his heartbeat, which speeds up the smallest amount as Robin turns away from the tablet he'd been working with, and settles his full attention directly onto Superboy.

“Hypothetically,” Robin repeats.

“Yeah. You know, in theory, if that ever happened.” Robin stares at Superboy for a moment, presumably reading everything that's missing from his own face in Superboy's.

“Well. In theory, the Justice League has the means to grant any meta hero a full identity. Is this about you? Because honestly it's insane that they haven't bothered yet, and I will straight up make you one right now if you-”

“No, it's not about me,” Superboy interrupts. “But like, you could do that? Without the Justice League’s support, I mean?. Like, say if this hypothetical person really didn't want the Justice League knowing about them?”

“You met a meta who doesn't like the Justice League.”

“I don't think it's really about the Justice League specifically. I mean, they definitely don't exist, but if they did, then I would say that the second I showed up they were bracing for a fight. Like before they even saw who I was.” Robin sets his tablet to the side without looking, and leans just a touch towards Superboy as he talks. It's honestly wild, he thinks, how the other boy can manage such intense eye contact through white lenses, but, well, that's the bats for you.

“Theoretically, I could absolutely make this person an identity, if they did exist. But I would want to meet them first.”

“Cool, cool,” Superboy says leaning back into the couch. “I offered to introduce you and they said they'd consider it. I think, maybe they don't trust adults very much, bc they asked if you were our age.”

“Theoretically?”

“Exactly.”

* * *

Though the specific details as to when the founding member first became acquainted, it was only after multiple incidents of near-worldwide devastation that they realized the necessity of an organized front.

The details of the forming of the Justice League should be fascinating, if only for the revelation that world-ending disasters are, apparently, relatively common in this universe. In a way, it’s a comforting thought. Memories of Dan sit as heavily as ever in Danny’s mind, especially now that he’s effectively lost his family, just like in Dan’s timeline. Of course, here there’s presumably no risk of him getting fused with Vlad, so probably that specific threat isn’t likely, but - well, if it comes to the worst and Danny does go mad, there’s at least a reasonably good chance that the heroes here will be able to stop him.

On the other hand, this also means that if the heroes turn out to actually be evil or whatever, he has less chance of getting away. Of course, Superboy hadn’t really seemed evil, but Danny really has no clue if he would even be able to tell. Sure he’d known Vlad was a nightmare from a mile away, but Vlad wasn’t exactly subtle about his obsession with Danny. Evil steeped in calculation would surely be harder to spot, wouldn’t it?

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” someone says from behind Danny. “But are you going to be using that computer for much longer?” Danny blinks, staring back at the teen who’s looking at him nervously. Danny glances over at the clock, but it’s now reading 2:30, which means that he’s been here for like three hours already,and he really hasn’t read much of anything in all that time.

“You can have it,” Danny says, pulling back to shove his notebook into his backpack.

“You sure, man? I don’t wanna chase you off, but I really could use it. Physics project, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Wasn’t really making much progress anyway. Might as well take a break.” Danny says. He never got to take physics in school, but he remembers struggling with lit class enough to understand the sentiment. And he really isn’t making any progress, if he’s been staring at the same Justice League page for multiple hours.

“You working on a history project or something?”

“Yeah.” It’s close enough to the truth.

“What teacher d’you have? It’s pretty cool that they’re letting you do it on the Justice League.”

“Oh, uh,” Danny quails for a moment, focusing on closing the tab so he doesn’t tell the kid he’s not going to school. After all it’s probably reasonable to assume the laws about delinquency are the same here. “It’s more about the meta protection acts than like, the Justice League itself. And I’m not really local, so...”

“Ah, that explains why I don’t recognize you,” the other teen grins.

“Yeah,” Danny says, stepping back so the other teen can take over the computer. “Well, good luck with your physics project.”

“Thanks, man, and good luck with your meta-acts essay.” The other teen turns his attention to the computer as Danny steps away, heading for the library exit. Clearly research isn’t going well today, and Jazz would definitely yell at him for trying to force his brain to focus when it clearly doesn’t want to. He pauses outside for a moment, trying to remember what Jazz said to when your focus was shot. Obviously part one was to take a break, but he’s certain that she’d had more to say than that.

He thinks he remembers her going on a rant about monotony, and boredom, but he doesn’t really feel bored. Actually more than anything he feels wired and anxious. And anxious means he should...

“Turn slow tigers into fast tigers,” Danny mutters, gaining a deeply confused look from the couple other patrons standing outside the library. He ignores them, though, and starts heading for the nearby park, so he can do some stretches. Fast tigers means he has to exercise, which he would usually complain about but- well, his routine has definitely been a lot less active since he got here. Other than the train crash the other week, Danny’s been spending most of his time sitting and reading, and while it’s been insanely nice to have nobody hunting him, honestly the idea of exercise sounds almost horrifyingly nice.

He does his best to run through the kind of stretches he remembers doing in PE, warming himself up as best he can before starting to jog the little looping path. The jeans make it a little more annoying than he remembers in PE, but luckily they’re kind of loose, so they’re not too terrible to run in, and Danny has no intention of going very fast. There’s too many people around even if he wanted to, and he does his best to be polite and not in the way as he jogs. it doesn’t take long for his breathing to go heavy with exertion, and as he finishes his second circuit, Dannyt relaxes into it, and just lets himself run.

Thirty minutes later, Danny is feeling markedly more tired, and he lets himself slow to a walk. His heart is thudding rhythmically in his chest, the occasional stutter only more prominent in the heightened pounding, and his legs feel a little wobbly, but he keeps walking, The sweat he’d worked up feels gross against his clothes, so probably he could’ve gone about it better, but Danny figures a whole thirty minutes without worrying about his existential situation is more than worth feeling gross for a bit. His usual tactic of sneaking into the local gym while it’s closed isn’t gonna cut it during the day, so he’ll have to wait to shower, but in the meantime, he can walk off the remaining adrenaline, and decide what to do for dinner.

* * *

“Hey, did you really mean what you said about me having a civilian identity?” Robin looks up as Superboy sits in the air beside his work desk.

“I have four different identities, ready for you to choose from,” Robin says.

“Wait do you just keep possible identities around in case anybody needs them? Is that, like, a Bat thing?” Superboy leans over to examine the tool Robin had been working on. Like everything else he uses, it’s emblazoned with a bat insignia, not that the marking does anything to help identify what the little machine even does. It’s ridiculously small, definitely not any kind of weapon, unless Robin’s been tinkering with the idea of murderous nanobots, which honestly wouldn’t be that shocking. Of any hero Superboy’s ever met, Robin seems uniquely predisposed towards mad scientist-type stuff.

“I keep exactly two emergency identities on hold, but those are separate. I was talking specifically about identities for you.” Superboy freezes, turning his eyes back to Robin, who looks at him like this is a perfectly normal thing to say. Superboy is at least ninety percent sure it isn’t, but what the hell.

“What the hell,” Superboy echoes his own thoughts. “Why would I ever need four identities?”

“You don’t need four, you need options. There’s no point in giving you an identity you hate.”

“Okay, but people don’t get to choose their names? So why would I care.”

“Most people don’t choose their names because most people receive them when they’re babies, but everyone has the ability to change it later if they decide they don’t like it. You have the unique advantage of being cognitively developed enough to have a say from the beginning, and you should have the opportunity to use it.”

“Huh...” That’s actually kind of sweet. “Do you like your name? I mean, like, that’s not why you don’t want to tell us, right?”

“My name is adequate,” Robin answers slowly. “It’s mine and I am... accustomed to it. The reason I haven’t told you my name is because it... implicates the other bats, and Batman considers that to be a significant security risk.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess that’s fair. Could I see the names you were thinking of?”

“Certainly,” Robin says, pushing back from the desk. “Let me get my tablet.”

* * *

“Uh, Superboy?” Danny shouts, trying to ignore how fucking ridiculous this feels. “Are you, like, free to talk? I think I want to meet your friend.” He’s hovering in the sky about a mile out from his town, in as close to the middle of nowhere as he could manage. He’d done a bit of looking into Robin this morning, before making his decision, and what a wild discovery that Robin was a name that had been held by multiple individuals. It makes him think of Dani, and he almost hopes that wherever she ends up, she might use the name Phantom too. After all, if anyone else rights to it, it would be his genetic clone.

Danny has no clue if time is flowing the same here as back home, but with any luck his friends have managed to orchestrate Dani’s escape too. It was always going to be a little more dodgy than Danny himself- his death being inherently tied to the portal had meant it was a bit more responsive to him than it otherwise would be, and that detail had been pretty quintessential to the rewiring that had needed to be done in order to send him to an entirely different universe, but they’d been hoping that her nature as a post-portal clone would mean that she had a close enough tie to the portal to send her through as well. Not that Danny would likely ever get to know for sure.

The soft rush of air alerted Danny to someone’s arrival, and he just managed to keep himself from falling into a defensive posture as he turned to look at the newly arrived Superboy, and the other teen being carried in his arms. Danny recognized the other boys outfit as that of the current Robin, who was now staring at Danny through a pair of disconcerting white-lenses set into a domino mask.

“We were free so I figured we’d just come meet you?” Superboy says with a nervous grin.

“Yeah, that’s, um, kind of obvious. Should we land?” Danny’s pretty sure that none of the Bats have flight, and like, as much as flying is cool as hell, Robin doesn’t look particularly impressed by it.

“That would be preferable, please,” Robin says, confirming Danny’s thoughts. He nods, and heads for the ground. Superboy follows just as quickly, and a moment later they’re all gathered on a gravel road in farmland.

“So, uh,” Superboy begins, once he’s deposited Robin on his own two feet.

“You told him about me before,” Danny says. Superboy may have had plenty of time to fly over here, but there hadn’t been enough of a delay to have explained the situation to Robin just now.

“It was an entirely theoretical conversation,” Robin offers dryly, before Superboy can respond.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that he was asking if I could theoretically help a meta acquire an identity if they were uncomfortable with the Justice League. Nothing of it was mentioned to anyone else and he told me no details about who any theoretical metas might be.” Danny blinks, taking a moment to process Robin’s explanation. In a way it makes sense, and he can see why Superboy would want to make sure that what he was offering was even possible. Besides, it’s pretty obvious already that they both really trust each other.

“Okay, sure. I guess I get it.”

“I would like to know why you’re concerned about the Justice League, though, if you’re willing to share. If there’s anything illicit happening-”

“Oh, no, it’s not like that,” Danny cuts in as soon as he realizes where Robin’s going. He’s suddenly glad he’d already decided to explain his situation in more detail. “It’s like, I’m not from here so my shit is entirely unrelated? It’s just, they’re -you’re?- associated with the government, you know?”

“And your government is a threat to you.”

“Honestly, everything was. But they can’t get to me here. It’s why my friends- that’s why I’m here.”

“Okay, but are you sure you’re safe? Because like, space travel is a thing, and if you need protection...” Superboy trails off, looking concerned.

“I mean, it should be fine? Even if the GIW did manage to figure out inter-dimensional travel, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be able to figure out where specifically I went, so yeah.” Danny really doesn’t want to think about a GIW that’s gone inter-dimensional.

“Well if they did manage to make it here, they would be breaching the meta protection acts if they tried anything, so I hope if that does happen you inform myself or Superboy.”

“Yeah,” Danny laughs. “It’s honestly been kind of crazy trying to wrap my head around the idea I have protections here?”

“That’s understandable. Plenty of meta-individuals have complicated feelings about them, even if they grew up here.”

“Oh?”

“Well, just because it’s illegal to exploit or discriminate against someone doesn’t necessarily mean it doesn’t happen. And metas who have been treated poorly often have trouble trusting in the protection acts.”

“Or sometimes you just didn’t get that info programmed into you and then you have to adjust to your understanding of history being manufactured,” Superboy mutters under his breath. Robin doesn’t react at all and Danny’s pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to hear it either. The implications are a bit concerning, but Danny’s not about to press him on it.

“Yeah, I mean that’s kind of where I am, I guess. I think I’d like it if you’d be willing to make me a legal identity? I’m basically homeless at the moment, so I’d like to be able to get a job or something. But I’d really rather not end up on the Justice League’s radar yet. You guys seem nice, but databases are- a lot.”

“Easy enough. I can actually do it all with my personal resources, so the info never goes anywhere near the Justice League’s databases. We just need to determine what name history you want to have.”

“I mean, I’d like to keep my name, if possible?”

“Sure, What’s your name?” Robin tilts his head.

“Danny Fenton.”

#dp x dc #the one where danny stumbles into a new universe and immediately guns for nasa #that tag is becoming less accurate with how long its taking to get to the space camp part lol

237 notes · View notes