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aiyexayen · 3 years

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The ChengXian/WangXian parallel gifsets about the sad boat rides with Wen Ning made me think, once again, about how Wei Ying was worried about being the Jiang Cheng in his relationship with Lan Zhan.

Wei Ying just had so few models of relationship, and only two real models of a serious relationship involving himself--Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. He saw himself as a caretaker in each of them.

Even Jiang Yanli, ultimately, though there was certainly more give and take there. He only accepted a very specific kind of caretaking from her, though, and we see how fraught that was in the way Yu-furen shamed Jiang Yanli for it.

But Jiang Cheng was the most complicated. He and Wei Ying were the Yunmeng Shuangjie. Twin Heroes. Both of them strong male cultivators. Their relationship was such a carefully orchestrated imbalance. Wei Ying had to take care of Jiang Cheng even to the point of making sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel taken care of. He was stronger, but he had to make sure Jiang Cheng didn’t feel weaker.

And at the same time, he had to be able to have his best friend and brother and navigate the lines of teasing and boasting that came with those dynamics and also with his natural brash and outgoing and free-spirited personality. It’s not something that weighed particularly heavy on him until later on, of course; it’s just How Things Were.

But Lan Zhan being Wei Ying's true equal was a heady taste of something new, something he was desperate for.

Someone he didn’t have to take care of in all those tricky, sticky ways. Someone who could understand him from the outside. That equality between them--of swords and strength and wit--formed so much of their early relationship. The ways Wei Ying and Lan Zhan excelled differently weren’t seen as anything but surface-level differences, cultivation styles. They could choose to take care of each other on their own (like in the Xuanwu cave) but there were no expectations except that which they set for themselves.

The best cohesive example I can think of is the situation at Dafan Mountain. Jiang Cheng has taken off after Wei Ying, to come and find his troublemaking brother and bring him home, ostensibly being the one to wrangle and care for his brother and best friend and someday-second. But as soon as he finds them, Wei Ying is clearly the one in charge. Jiang Cheng gets locked into a shield barrier, given a verbal half-teasing pat on the head, and left behind. Wei Ying goes off with Lan Zhan to find the source of the problems and their new level of partnership is beautifully put on display through their fight (other things happen in that fight, too, but that’s another post).

Jiang Cheng was never allowed to truly take care of Wei Ying. His parents never let him. Wei Ying never let him. He tried, all the time, most of all when he gave himself up to the Wen soldiers. But even that was immediately undone, turned back around on him.

Wei Ying never figured out how to attain any semblance of true equilibrium in his relationship with Jiang Cheng, even after everything at Lotus Pier, especially after everything at Lotus Pier, either before or after the core transfer. Maybe if he had, things would have been different. Maybe if he had, he wouldn’t have sacrificed his core to begin with.

It’s debatable how much Wei Ying expected to keep living after his core was gone. It’s even more debatable how much he really thought about anything past his own desperation in the moment, about all the promises broken with that single act, about how that would affect his relationship with anyone else. That doesn’t seem like a very Wei Ying thing to sit and think about.

Regardless, once the core was gone, he and Lan Zhan weren't equals. It messed up his relationship with Jiang Cheng, too, of course. The resentful energy was its own kind of strength but it couldn’t make up the difference in any way that counted. It just complicated everything by a thousand times and added in all kinds of new problems.

Even though Jiang Cheng had his core and Wei Ying had nothing but the tortured screams of the lost and vengeful echoing in his head, Wei Ying was still the caretaker there.

Don’t let Jiang Cheng find out the secret. Don’t let Lan Zhan become embroiled in it or expose the secret. Make sure Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli and Lotus Pier are okay. Lift Jiang Cheng up as a leader. Win the war. Apparently still be alive welp didn’t see that coming. Protect them all. Even if it means leaving.

But as much as he scrambled for strengths and leaned on his demonic cultivation he was still weak. Able to wipe out entire outposts of Wen agents yet repeatedly brought to a point where Lan Zhan could kill him easily and we know that the only way he could hope to match him would be to use this dangerous thing that's eating his soul, so shit could really get out of hand. Which wasn't really winning in the end. Demonic cultivation for him in general wasn’t strength so much as carefully-applied weakness.

Not to mention his reputation. They got so far off-balance where reputation and social standing was concerned.

Wei Ying’s merits had been contentious throughout his life--on the one hand, they're all he had to elevate himself beyond the need for the Jiangs' charity, or anyone's charity, as his status as family was so fraught and inconsistent. Being the best made all of that a moot point as much as it could be. And it also made him able to take care of said family, fulfilling all manner of "repay debt" vibes and "I'm obsessed with justice and protection" vibes.

On the other hand, they were definitely part of what made things so difficult with Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying’s reputation outclassing Jiang Cheng’s as a prodigy, a swordsman, a hero, even as he balanced it out by getting a simultaneous reputation for goofing off and being irresponsible. He did his best to make them complementary even though they were never really allowed to be.

But Jiang Cheng said it himself when he visited Wei Ying at the Burial Mounds--as soon as he started walking a different path, all of his merits and his skills and his reputation were turned upside down and used to make him a more effective villain.

So suddenly he didn’t even have any good social standing. He was mistrusted and then hated and reviled. On a number of levels, he could handle that, because it was more important to him that everyone who wasn’t him was okay. But it put him at complete odds with the great Hanguang-Jun, which was definitely something he made a point of noting more than once so we know it really, really mattered to him.

And that knowledge crept further and further in, between the war ending, things going back to some semblance of normal when he...couldn’t, and eventually him ending up in the Burial Mounds.

It was inevitable. He was the weaker one between himself and Lan Zhan, in every possible way. He knew of only one way that could go down.

It's a fear that got tangled up along with the rest of his paranoias, insecurities, traumas, resolutions, and twisted certainties pre-timeskip. On top of that, he lost a central piece of his identity and had no idea how to replace it.

If he isn't himself, who else can he be? Who else might he turn into? Someone who needs to be taken care of? Someone who might have his agency circumvented by a stronger person who thinks he knows better?

He sure did that to Jiang Cheng, and he never really had to own up to that piece of it. He never really regretted it either but he also sure didn't want to be on the other end of it.

Aside from that, Wei Ying just didn't know how to not be the strongest person. Being equal is the closest he’d ever come. He's never been allowed to be weak and taken care of unless he's play-acting and isn't that fucking heartbreaking? Fuck.

So who is he without that?

He still fought with the strengths he had and pretended to have the rest of them. And in one last great act of being the protector and caretaker, ran off to the Burial Mounds.

We do get to see Wei Ying and Lan Zhan working in tandem to bring back Wen Ning, and even though Wei Ying stumbles at the end (for the first time ever, I think, into Lan Zhan’s arms?), he does it successfully. They’re still able to work together, in spite of everything that’s happened, especially when Wei Ying is leaning into his actual talents. Even if Wei Ying’s weakness is still looming over his shoulder, as we see later.

Being with the Wens, living a simple life, leaning into his strengths, being part of a community and family, taking time to work on his scholarly/inventor hobbies, all this served to calm a lot of those fears and also conveniently take Wei Ying out of the scenarios and away from the relationships that caused them. It offered him tentative new pieces of identity to grab.

But then, of course, he lost that, too.

Post-timeskip, Wei Ying is thrust right back into a world where he has to finally face those issues. Whether you take it as he still has no core, or he has Mo Xuanyu’s really weak core, he’s not doing so great where that’s concerned.

He still has strengths. We’re not actually shown any indications that this man is weak at any point, not truly. He has a better grasp on the situation at Mo Manor than all of those precious Lan babies put together.

But we are shown that he uses a bunch of hands-on crafty tricks, talismans and spells and such. And, interestingly, in counterpoint we’re shown Lan Zhan descending from the heavens with his qin. Wei Ying doesn’t use a dizi here yet (let alone sword), and Lan Zhan doesn’t use Bichen. I do think that’s lovely.

However, Lan Zhan is still incredibly strong, in more ways than just physically: his reputation is strong, his presence is strong, his confidence is high, his mastery of the qin is unparalleled, he’s had sixteen more years to grow up and develop his golden core.

From the framing, and Wei Ying’s reactions, and the Lan juniors’ reactions, it’s pretty clear that’s the impression Wei Ying has. There’s an imbalance between them (along with alllll the other reasons he might have to want to stay away from/keep Lan Zhan out of things). He doesn’t see them as complementary, just as not-the-same.

He meets Jiang Cheng next and, hey, Jiang Cheng is actually really strong now, too (also he always was but meh). Again, Wei Ying uses his tricks to outwit and outmaneuver the situation at hand. Again, he’s struck by the impressive image of someone entering the scene like a badass.

And what a deliciously awful carousel of conflicting feelings. Pride? Despair? Longing? Love? Annoyance? Delight? Relief? Pain? Fear?

But as far as strength goes, clearly Jiang Cheng has it in buckets, now. Which means even if they still had a relationship, Jiang Cheng surely wouldn't even be the Jiang Cheng in it anymore. What a horrible realisation.

It can’t be helped much by the fact that Wei Ying almost lets himself get run through and Lan Zhan enters the scene to fucking save him. Even if it’s from the kid we know he just bested.

And that’s the back and forth we see at first. Wei Ying proving his strength and his character but the framing and his reactions proving that he’s still caught in the idea that Lan Zhan is stronger and better than him.

Lan Zhan is beloved. Lan Zhan is strong. Lan Zhan would never accidentally murder people he loved more than life itself. (OKay I won’t get into that but tell me he didn’t think that at any point I dare you)

He accepts it and plays it off as not a big deal, but it clearly is. In his rare serious moments, we see that.

So post-timeskip, Wei Ying has to figure out who he is and then how he can be said person. A significant part of the character and relationship development post-timeskip is about that.

He once again finds himself exploring uncharted territory of building relationship dynamics he’s never experienced with Lan Zhan. It started because he realised they were equals. It can’t develop further until he acknowledges that they still are.

He figures out how to be weak with Lan Zhan first, that it's safe and allowed and okay. There’s nothing wrong with being taken care of. It doesn’t have to define him and it doesn’t have to be about agency or about all the twisty psychological junk that was all wrapped up in his familial relationships at all.

Then he figures out that he still has the capacity to take care of someone like Lan Zhan back, that he’s still able to be needed, and not just someone to follow around and protect.

Wei Ying has strengths, strengths that were always there and always part of him as well as new ways he's grown and changed. He’s an inventor, he’s a genius, he’s a prodigy, he has his talismans and his music and his people skills and his teaching ability and his empathy and his heart.

All this definitely comes to a head on the steps of Jinlintai, by which point it feels like one of the only remaining imbalances that Wei Ying feels so keenly is their status, which of course Lan Zhan snuffs out utterly romantically.

It’s even more poignant that that moment comes right after Wei Ying gets Suibian back. And he's not nearly as good with it--Lan Zhan has to protect him multiple times in that fight and then of course he gets stabbed. But the point is still made, that he was still able to fight, and even his failures with the sword just drive home that this isn't who he is now. And that's okay.

By the time they're at the Burial Mounds again, Wei Ying has accepted the way they work as a team and that they can be complementary. And they fight flawlessly.

I love that growth for him.

He absolutely ends up being the Jiang Cheng, in a number of ways. He runs after Lan Zhan when he’s drunk to keep him out of trouble. He ends up left behind to take care of defenseless people while Lan Zhan runs off and has an epic sword fight in an evil fog bank.

He has to be taken from Lotus Pier, unconscious, in a boat, and is held so preciously in Lan Zhan’s arms.

But. Turns out it’s not so bad when the person you’re being Jiang Cheng for isn’t Wei Ying.

I swear this is not throwing shade at Wei Ying.

But he figures out, slowly, how to actually have a relationship built on even ground, as equals, in spite of being unequal in all the ways he used to think mattered. And he only manages it with someone once he’s on the weaker side of it.

I just think that’s super interesting.

And I think it sets a precedent for Wei Ying to understand the flaws in his old dynamic with Jiang Cheng. Especially once there aren’t secrets between them.

Everything has to change, anyway. Everything has already changed, almost two decades ago, and it isn’t going back. It can’t ever go back. Everything they were to each other was bound up in Jiang Yanli’s presence, in promises long broken, in dreams long dead, in a future that has already proved to not be real. In the old Lotus Pier, a lot of it, since they never really moved on from that, either, even back then.

Jiang Cheng has grown up. He’s raised a kid. He’s raised and trained disciples. He’s been a sect leader for over a decade and a half. He’s been to other people what he never could be to Wei Ying.

He’s also proven that he still wants his brother to fix things, still expects him to be able to. Still wants to fight, still knows how to cry. Still acknowledges fragmented pieces of their lost dynamic. Probably more of the healthy ones than Wei Ying ever has, too.

Jiang Cheng still, even in the wake of learning about the golden core, even after everything he’s built and has become, acknowledges Wei Ying as a strong person. As someone as strong as he is, if not stronger in many ways. As having the capacity of an older brother.

But then, Jiang Cheng was always able to conceptualise a world where he and Wei Ying were equals, complementary if not evenly matched, just as much as Lan Zhan was.

It wasn’t a fantasy that Wei Ying indulged him in. It was a reality that Wei Ying himself didn’t know how to accept and kept at a distance, carefully juggling too many separate parts of a whole he couldn’t allow to come together until they all crashed down.

But he’s been on the other side of it now and maybe it’s enough. Maybe he can take what he’s learned in building/rebuilding his relationship with Lan Zhan and apply it to other people. Especially Jiang Cheng.

And maybe Jiang Cheng has been a sect leader and an uncle long enough to not let Wei Ying get away with shit.

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writersindigestion · 7 years

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taunted | edward nygma x reader

“maybe regret wasn’t a strong enough word.”

reader gender: female

words: 2527

warnings: probable PTSD, paranoia, trauma, substance abuse, death, general negativity

notes: hey, y’all. this part was getting... extremely lengthy. the original document is closing in on 10,000 fucking words, so i did y’all a favor and split this part up. no ed in this one, though he is heavily mentioned... will post the next part within a day or two. lotsa edward later on.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | PART FIVE | PART SIX also available on: AO3

[Y/N] never made a return to her post at the GCPD. She didn’t tell them she wasn’t coming in, she didn’t tell them she was quitting, and she definitely didn’t tell them why. Surely they had tried contacting her cell phone - not that she could answer it, considering it had been stolen. The precinct had tried calling her home phone as well, but in the past weeks, she’d completely moved in with Chrysanthemum. Every time she returned to pack more things, she’d see the blinking light on the answering machine, but could not gather the guts to check her messages.

The only employee that ever got ahold of her was Kyle - and he was more than happy to keep his mouth shut for a chance at spending more time with a woman who never failed to make him smile. He’d brought her desk things to her, all bundled up in a little package so as not to break anything. All she’d really wanted was her coffee mug, but she was sure-as-shit happy to have any of her stuff from work in the first place.

Kyle had asked if she wanted to spend the night at his home, but [Y/N] turned him down, explaining that she didn’t feel safe enough in Gotham to accept his offer. He pressed her for details, worried that she was in danger, but she shut him out. It hurt, just a little, to think of the kicked-puppy expression on his face as she closed her door for the night.

This was for his safety as much as it was for hers. Who knows what his plans were as of late? Was he busy murdering someone else? Did he look for her? Was he still covering his tracks? Or even, blissfully, she wondered if justice was hot on his heels.

She shook those pleasant thoughts from her head - the man was a genius, if not a felon and a murderer - he wasn’t likely to get caught. Still, a little part of her was hopeful, and a large part of him was an egomaniac - he could get sloppy for the sake of narcissism.

There was nothing more in the world that she wanted than to meet him again so she could give him the beating of his life. If [Y/N] ever saw Edward again, however, she knew she’d either end up dead, kidnapped, or laid. None of those situations were ideal since she figured fucking him would just feed into whatever sexual, and likely psychological, fixation he had with her (or maybe, it was herself with the fixation).

It didn’t matter - it was the only thing that mattered - it didn’t matter at all. She didn’t dwell on it - it was the only thing she dwelled on - she didn’t dwell on it at all.

Her head ran itself in circles, trying in vain to make her feel safe. Safe? But being afraid was so much safer. Stay afraid, stay safe - that’s how it worked, right? It had been so long since the young woman had felt secure. Every single thought of Nygma was encapsulated entirely by fear - especially when she was alone.

But sometimes, at night, she would feel her lover crawl into bed behind her, wrapping thick, warm, caring arms around [Y/N]’s middle - and no matter how hard she tried to concentrate on the feeling of Chrysanthemum breathing next to her, she only felt the cold, slender limbs of the forensic murderer coiling tighter and tighter at her torso. Depending on her level of lucidity, she might feel the feathers of dark, unintelligible murmuring along her neck, or icy claws tiptoeing between her legs. And as she leaned into the heat of her lover, she couldn’t help but think of the anaconda drawing her deeper into its circle.

She’d often find herself in a state of sleep paralysis, unable to escape the nightmare, even though she knew it wasn’t real.

[Y/N] rarely slept anymore. Her girlfriend would cry with frustration, tired of seeing the traumatized young woman in a state of such despair. She offered her everything - a confidant, a therapist, medical help, a vacation, a night out - but most everything required leaving the comfort of the apartment building, and so her efforts were ineffective.

Drugs, however, were the one thing that helped. Most of her surplus cash was spent on weed, booze, and sleep meds. At first, Chrysanthemum wasn’t bothered by the blatant substance abuse, but after finding her lover puking in the toilet on one too many occasions, she started hiding all of her drug paraphernalia, leaving only a solitary beer in the fridge every morning.

[Y/N] noticed the sudden disappearance of her liquor, pills, and marijuana. In fact, for several days, most of her alone time was spent searching for her stash. She never found it, and hated herself too much to complain. When she wasn’t working at the coffee shop on the ground floor, she was sitting, stock-still, in the chair by the window, a lonely beer in one hand, and her head in the other. The TV would drone on in a nearby part of the room, filling in the empty spaces between morbid thoughts, and her eyes would lay steadfast on the church across the street.

In the midst of depression and the beginnings of a drug habit, a new development was forming - Jim Gordon was sent to Blackgate prison for a string of crimes that were suspiciously… Nygma-fied. [Y/N] spent the morning following that piece of news with her head hugging the porcelain throne, and a small handgun clutched in her fist. She wouldn’t let Chryssie leave for almost four days, she was so petrified that she was next on his list. Eventually, she lacked both the emotional and physical strength to keep her girlfriend home with her.

The frayed woman was allowed two beers and a small glass of wine, provided that she accompany Chrysanthemum on at least two outings per week. Begrudgingly, [Y/N] obliged, even going so far as to add an errand every day! Unfortunately, her daily trip was to the building next door, where she took up a gym membership and started participating in self-defense classes.

It was “unfortunate”, being that the only reason for pushing herself was to try and keep her girlfriend safe from a man that she hadn’t seen in several weeks. Chryssie joined her on most gym days, intent on keeping the withering woman from hurting herself. At least she was more health-conscious now - the exercise kept up her appetite, which Chryss was sure to satiate with nutritious meals.

“Gotta keep your strength up, girly! Do it for me, if not for yourself.”

More weeks passed. More gym days. More coffee-making days. More staring-at-the-church days. More searching the apartment days. More snakes-around-her-waist days.

[Y/N] had long since reached a stalemate with someone she wasn’t even sure was still a player in their sick, little game.

The woman somehow refused to admit to herself that she was afraid - especially at this point in the situation. Sure, she got nervous if her girlfriend was a bit late coming home. Sure, she choked on her own heart when someone knocked on the door. And sure, she checked the dark corners of their home for long, lanky men every morning, noon, evening, night, and each time she got home from any single errand - but that didn’t mean she was scared, per say… Just… Unhealthily cautious.

It was getting to the point that she wished he would: a) kill her, b) kill himself, c) otherwise die, or d) get himself arrested.

And one glorious, partly-cloudy, snow-littered, chilly day - Edward Nygma selected option - drumroll, please - … “D”!

When her roommate returned home that day, she was concerned to find [Y/N] sobbing - not that it was unusual, however… Tender hands caressed shaking shoulders, and she placed her head in the crook of her neck. “Honey… Baby?” She cooed, rubbing circles on her girlfriend’s arms, “Baby, what’s wrong? Can I help?”

The fragile woman’s body shook harder after the question, her tears soaking into the crumpled newspaper she had clutched in her fists. After another moment of tears, she relinquished hold of the paper, letting Chryssie take it.

“Jim Gordon Released As Cops Catch Correct Killer.”

The couple were quiet for a moment before soft giggles started to rise from [Y/N]’s chest. Her giggles escalated in volume until she was practically howling with laughter until her cackles became so loud that they could no longer even be heard.

It was infectious. Both women found themselves on the floor in a fit of hysteria, eyes cinched shut against their own giddiness. Nearly five minutes passed before either of them spoke.

The previously crying woman was the first to break the silence. “... That’s a lot of alliteration…”

…

They erupted once more into peeling squawks of laughter, and laid there, on the floor, for nearly an hour, content to simply hold each other.

She had Edward’s mugshot framed later that evening, tucking it carefully away in the bathroom cabinet, and a celebration was planned for the next night.

All of her friends came - the ones she’d spent months avoiding, the ones she’d alienated. When asked what the sudden cause for cheer was, [Y/N] would only grin wider, would only speak louder - it was like weeks of damage and shame had been lifted from her shoulders.

Everyone was ecstatic to see the woman they once knew act like herself again. She was ecstatic to smile again. When the bane of your existence was under lock and key, what more reason did you need to throw a party?

She wrote a card to Jim, feeling forever grateful for his work in the force. It took her a few tries to get it just right - half of the rewrites were because of her tears staining the page. She couldn’t tell him the real reason, but she could congratulate him on his regained freedom.

God save Gotham if Gordon should ever fall like that again. The people should shudder at the thought.

[Y/N] was bustling with energy now that Edward had been detained - she felt like she could conquer the world. That was… Until the Adderall wore off.

She came down from that high pretty hard, finding herself blearily wandering her apartment after spending an ungodly amount of time wide-awake. The road to real recovery would be a long one, but it was nice to imagine, if only for a night, that she could feel like herself again. Chrysanthemum had flushed the leftover pills anyways.

Tiny steps, then. [Y/N] thought positively, or at least tried to. She figured that feeling down wouldn’t make her situation better. There were compulsions to avoid, paranoia to ignore - therapists to see, something she still refused to do.

The first item on her agenda was to visit someone she’d been meaning to see for far too long.

Solid, black leather boots sunk into the ground, her feet set firmly into the dark, damp earth, and her body turned towards the warm, grey headstone before her. The dirt, though it had begun to pack together, bore no grass, showcasing recently overturned soil. The woman’s face was solemn, her tongue twisted around itself as she searched for the right words to say.

After several minutes, [Y/N] spoke, voice bending and cracking with the weight of sorrow, “I’m sorry I… I didn’t come sooner, Kristen. I know how much punctuality meant to you. We were supposed to hang out… Several months ago.”

A cold breeze bit at the back of her neck, but she would not pull her hood up as if to punish herself for the negligence of her friend. “It’s my fault you’re here now - you know that, right?”

Her brow crinkled, feeling the stinging behind her eyes. She could almost hear Kristen yelling at her from behind the tombstone.

You know that’s not true. I wouldn’t be dead if it weren’t for Edward.

She cringed, angling herself away from the grave just slightly, but the wind only served to draw more tears forward. It wasn’t fair. [Y/N] didn’t deserve to be so heartbroken, and her friend absolutely didn’t deserve to be swimming with the proverbial fishes.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t by your side when you needed me. He is an evil man - I knew that and I couldn’t bring myself to tell you,” She said, her words becoming more and more strangled as she continued, “I should be in Arkham with the rest of the clinically insane - or at the very least in prison. I practically let him kill you. I let him murder my best friend.”

The babbling woman clutched a small, tin box in her hands, jostling inwardly with her guilt-ridden conscience. Stepping forward, she set the parcel just before the headstone, next to a few, stray, withered flowers. “I was going to bring you a bouquet, but I figured you’d appreciate this more.”

Fumbling, she opened the box, ignoring the teeth of winter air on her skin. Inside lies a newspaper clipping, showcasing Ed’s arrest, a small bag of generic, strawberry-flavored candies, a box of matches, a Beatles cassette tape, and a tube of chocolate pink lipstick.

“It’s cheesy, yeah, but I think about you a lot. The matches are because your hair is fiery, by the way,” She explained, laughing slightly at her own expense, but the moment of mirth only served to make her feel more empty as it passed, “... I should probably get going - before my hands freeze off. Oh!-”

[Y/N] moved with a start, digging in her purse for something. After many moments of struggle, she pulled out a small figurine, placing it with the rest of her gifts, before shutting the lid tight.

Laughter crept back into her body with the tears, and she shook with both as she rose to her feet. “It’s a Santa Claus doll, my dear Saint Nicholas! I know you would hate me for leaving that with you, but you’re not allowed to feel sorry for me - I’m still as rotten, inappropriate, and unfunny as I was when you were alive.”

Several more minutes went by, but the female finally got out her parting words, “I’ll be back again soon to leave you some actual flowers, and check on your grave. I know you’d want it tidy.”

“... I just have one thing to ask, and I know it’s a lot - the afterlife, if there is one, is probably very busy, but I need to borrow some of your strength.”

Her tone deepened as if trying to keep others from hearing her, “Please watch over me - protect me where I couldn’t protect you from this shithole city. Please forgive me for leaving you when it mattered most. Please help me recover from this - I don’t know if I can do it alone.”

With reluctance, she began to walk away, stopping only a second more to say goodbye, “You deserved so much better, Kristen Kringle. I love you to the end of the earth, and back again. Please sleep well.”

... Y’all, this is a whole lotta feelings, and not a lotta action. But fret not - I will return within a few days time to add to this narrative. I’ve got a ton of shit going down in part four. You’re not even ready. Leave me a request - I’ll pretty much take any! Tag me in your stuff, I’d love to read it! <3′ ALSO: looking for a beta reader. Message me if you’re interested. - writersindigestion

#edward nygma x reader #edward nygma fanfiction #edward nygma smut #riddler x reader #gotham imagine #gotham fanfiction #edward nygma #dc fanfiction #Cory Michael Smith #ed nygma #ed nygma x reader #ed nygma smut

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