Callinheim batbug fic inspired by this post by @xshadowiva
Haven’t really been receiving any requests lately, which makes sense, I didn’t expect anything in the first place, I’m not a big account, or super good at writing, so the amount I have received far exceeded my expectations (massive thanks). Just thought I’d let the people who do see this know that my writing will probably slow down (even more), as I struggle with bringing myself to write if it’s not for someone else.
It’s a ship fic rather than an x reader, so I apologize for any shortcomings (more than usual anyway).
I’ve made a few adjustments to the plot that was tied to the image to make it work a little better for the story I want to write.
I decided to write it from Greg’s POV, so lets see how it goes.
Expect angst of course.
I’m not too happy with how it turned out, I find it rather clunky at some points. Sorry batbug nation.
TW: violence, death
… It’s been three days… three days since the higher ups finally accepted his request to join the raid. Four days since Yi Sang died that meaningless —no, it was a good death, it had purpose— death.
He’s finally going to see that ring bastard again. He was too busy taking care of the wiring to get a good look at him back then. He wants to see his eyes dim and hear the sputtering groans as he dies.
Calm yourself, you’re not a combat expert, you need to be capable of rational thought if you want to do any real damage. He’s above you in strength and you can’t afford to bring anyone else right to him.
The apprentice is an issue though… maybe Faust could deal with them. Then stay back of course, no need to erase names if not absolutely necessary.
Go through a clear plan in your head once more. Ensure efficiency in the moment. Enter, have Faust enter close quarters with the apprentice and take them out with a clean shot through the head.
Now, bid her to stay back, continue towards the nursefather alone, hope he’s too absorbed in his ‘art’ to notice, and once again, a clean shot.
If he’s not absorbed, talk to him about the art, you have a certain level of expertise. Try to get his back turned, then—
He hesitates… there’s something about his… posture? It seems familiar. That’s stupid of course, he wouldn’t know anyone like this. No one he knows would do such horrific things.
It was a moment too long. The nursefather turns around again.
“Your insights have been truly invaluable. The greatest way to thank you is to make you into my finest piece yet.”
The tone of voice, the look in his eyes, their color… they all remind him of someone from a distant past, but the man he knew wouldn’t be talking like that. He should stall.
“If I may ask, how did you become so good at your craft?”
“Ah, of course, unlike the usual course people take, I was lucky enough to be recovered from burial by two more of my craft. They wanted to capture agony by maintaining my body and using my reaction as part of it. Their sculpting took quite some time, and I grew fascinated. It was not the reaction they’d hoped for, but did allow me to join their ranks.”
“I do not see how that elevated your skill so much higher than others of your style.”
“Then I will cut this short, I was unable to use my own body, so I adopted a much closer familiarity with those of others.”
“I suppose that explains it.” He inches closer, resting his hand on the hilt of diffraction. Once he’s close enough, he takes it out and bashes it over the nursefather’s head.
Thud.
He aims his crossbow at the man now lying rather pathetically on the ground. Looking at his eyes still make him hesitate. There’s an entirely different expression on his face now.
“Bloody— listen mate, we can talk about this yeah?”
What a contrast to how he was acting before… He only knows one person who’d ever utter such a sentence… if that’s the case —which is absurd of course— could this really be that very same man?
“I’ll let you live, if you tell me where you worked before you got caught up in the ring.”
“My memory ain’t exactly clear, some kind of corporation? Give me a moment to remember—”
“Lobotomy.”
“Yeah, exactly! That satisfy you?”
“Your name is Heathcliff then?”
“Yeah… you the boss? Gregor, right?”
“So you do remember. How about what was between the two of us?” A foolish question, he’s suddenly far too hopeful.
“We were close at least, would like to start over if you give me the chance.”
“…” He’s conflicted, this is the man he admired so much for his endless optimism if given the slightest sense of worth, but also the man who killed Yi Sang…
No unnecessary erasure of names.
“How’s your mental state?”
“Not really great… I’m still fascinated by corpses. Just can’t bring myself not to be. Happens after a few years I suppose.”
“Guess I’ll have to give you counseling, some one on one time, to make up for the years we missed.” He does genuinely mean this, he’s still conflicted, but building their relationship from the ground up, being able to avoid his previous mistakes, is rather appealing.
“You still see that same potentiality in me?”
“Pretty sure it’s still there.”
There’ll be strain from the other employees of course, but he’ll manage. At least there’s one more he got to save.
