#so he made a compromise of judging Jason
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WIP Wednesday
so a friend/irl nuisance double-dared me to start "sharing content in the process, it doesn't have to be good". it sounded a lot better and inspiring when he said it ngl.
so here's a segment from tell me where the good men go, my beloved batfam medieval fantasy au.
Rating: Teen and Up
Category: Gen
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Damian Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Tim Drake & Cassandra Cain & Damian Wayne & Duke Thomas
Additional Tags: Presumed Dead (Dick), Magic Medieval Fantasy AU
Additional Context: Dick's been presumed dead by his siblings for three years, for Reasons that are relevant to the overall plot lol (no spoilers!!) In those three years, he traveled across the continent, met up with the Wally and Garth (and later Donna and Roy ala classic Fab Five) to form the Titans. Eventually, news of the Titans and their mysterious leader makes its way back East to Gotham, prompting people to investigate.
This is a Tim-centered POV of some of the events that lead up to Dick's highly-exaggerated disappearance, and how he's been coping in the present, and it's been sitting in my drafts for... three years, roughly. Enjoy!
~•~
Before
“I don’t like it.”
“Hm. Tough.”
Tim doesn’t do something so undignified as whine, though it’s a very close thing. Dick is a big brother several times over, and is very used to Little Sibling Dramatics, and therefore manages to restrain from rolling his eyes or calling Tim a little brat. Jason and Damian have no such restraint.
“You made this plan, Tim,” Jason says, poking Tim in the shoulder just as he starts yet another misguided attempt to sit up on his own strength. Tim makes a little wheezing sound- not entirely unlike the noise a balloon makes as it deflates- and all but collapses back onto his pillows. This, of course, sets off Jason’s mothering tendencies, which in turn sets off another round of Tim’s not-whining ‘I’m fine’s that none of them are inclined to believe anymore.
Jason’s scowl grows into a truly fearsome thing (not that any of them are in any way affected by it) as he fusses over the multitude of blankets and pillows that surround Tim. “As I recall,” he says as he works, voice dry, “we were very concerned about the amount of risks incorporated into this plan, but you were the one who insisted that ‘it’s really nothing to worry about, you see,’ and ‘you’re all being unreasonably ridiculous and overprotective about this.’”
“Yes, well, things were different. Are different,” Tim bites out as he lies back against the (newly fluffed) pillows. Tim’s skin, already naturally pale, is nearly as white as the clean sheets he’s lying against, and the absence of further protest from him at Jason’s fussing makes the rest of them exchange glances.
None of the others had been present when Dick had sat down with Alfred and Lady Thompkins as she'd solemnly walked them through the damage Tim's time with Ra's had done to his body, and the long road to recovery that loomed over Dick's second-youngest brother.
"I was clearly compromised," Tim ends up snapping at Jason's prodding, stubbornly trying once again to sit up on his won. "It's a stupid plan, and no-one's going through with it."
“Things were different,” Tim snaps, struggling to sit upright. He doesn't quite manage it, but he does find the strength to bat away Jason's hands. “I was compromised. It’s a stupid plan, and no-one’s going through with it.”
“Why?” Dick asks, softly. “Because you’re no longer the one carrying it out?”
None of them quite freeze at the implications of Dick’s question, though there is a tenseness in the way they all settle afterwards, gravitating to Tim’s bed from where they are scattered across the room.
Tim himself gives up on sitting upright, falling back onto sweat-damp sheets and pillows with a huff. After a moment, he grabs a pillow and throws it- judging by the direction, he's aiming for Damian, but weakened as he is, it just falls sadly over the edge. Jason sighs at the destruction of his hard work and opts to carefully pull Tim forward, supporting him all the while, so that Dick can plump the pillows up against the headboard and settle against them. Once done, he holds his arms open to lean Tim back against his chest while Jason sits on Tim's other side. Duke takes a seat at the foot of the bed, a hand on Tim's ankle, while Cass gracefully slots herself next to Tim, her head on Jason's lap. Damian clambers up and sits near Tim's feet, arms wrapped around Tim's fallen pillow, glaring petulantly at nothing in particular. Tim nudges him with his foot, and Damian gently whaps him with the pillow, and it's enough to bring smiles to everyone's faces, for a moment.
Dick brushes back Tim’s sweat-soaked bangs, studying the unhealthy paleness of his brother’s skin. Underneath the soaked nightshirt, he knows, bandages near-completely wrap around his brother's torso. Tim catches him looking and rolls his eyes. “I’m fine. This is fine. The wound’s settled nicely, and the healers give me less than a month before I’m back to full capacity.”
“Funny,” Duke murmurs. “I could’ve sworn it was longer. Two, three months, wasn’t it, Cass?”
“Mn,” Cassandra hums agreeably, carding her fingers through Tim’s hair. Tim makes an antagonized sound.
“Duke,” he groans. “Please shut up.”
“No,” Duke says pleasantly, at the same time Cass gently chastises him. “Injuries aren’t an excuse to be rude,” she says, her voice still soft but firm.
“Yes, Cass,” Tim sighs, ignoring Duke’s pleased grin and Jason’s snort. He lets it slide because he knows that they’re just as bad as he is when it comes to indulging their sister, who is a force of nature and one of the best things in this world, and therefore they had no room to talk.
The silence that fills the room afterwards is neither unpleasant nor comfortable. They are well-attuned to one another, all of them, and they know the outcome of the conversation- if it can even be called that, Tim thinks bitterly, what with him an invalid laid up in bed like some damsel in distress.
“I don’t like it,” he says again, but it’s softer this time. Quieter, and full of resignation. His eyes flicker up to meet Dick’s. “It’s not safe,” his voice is pleading, even if he knows it won’t make a difference. He’d defended his case and the risks involved far too well last time, and even as his brain raced, trying to restructure the plan now, he couldn’t think of anything that would be as effective, or didn’t risk another one of their siblings. Dick only smiles indulgently at him as he continues to gently card his fingers through Tim’s hair.
“Good,” he says brightly. “Now, when you make plans, you’ll be making them as if we were the ones carrying them out, and maybe we’ll get you a sense of self-preservation yet.”
“I hate you.”
“Okay, little brother.”
“That’s not how this works.”
“I’m older therefore I know better therefore this is exactly how it works.”
“I’m stealing your coffee supply.”
“Mkay.”
“All of it.”
“I look forward to hearing you defend a sudden increase in coffee consumption to Alfred.”
...
"Be careful."
"I always am."
"...come home?"
...
"I'll do my very best."
Now
There are two jars of coffee beans in the royal family kitchens- one is plain gray and utilitarian. The other is garishly painted in red, yellow, and green, as if by a child. There are chips and scratches on the base, and the red robin on top of the lid is missing a wing and has glue smeared messily around it from the last time it fell off and was put back. Dick's name is engraved in gold on the front.
Years ago, Tim had sat at the marble counter of the small kitchenette in the Royal family’s inner rooms, watching intently as Dick Grayson, then-heir to the throne of Gotham, had taught him how to make coffee for the first time. “The secret, Timmy,” he’d said, pulling the colorful jar close for Tim to inspect, “is in the beans. The ones we get here in the palace are alright,” Dick had pulled a silly expression, making Tim laugh, “But mine are special and so much better. You’ll see.”
Truthfully, Tim hadn’t liked the bitter drink very much at first, though Dick was right that it was better than the stuff they drank more regularly. He’d delighted in the scandalized faces Dick had made as he’d added liberal amounts of cream and honey to his cup to make it palatable. It had become a tradition, eventually, for Tim to gravitate to Dick’s corner of the kitchen in the early mornings and help his brother prepare coffee for the family.
When Dick and the others had left him and Damian for the campaign against Ra’s, years ago, Tim had seriously contemplated emptying Dick’s special stores of coffee beans (he'd found all of them years ago) as a form of petty revenge.
He had ended up hiding them, and then crying over the stupid jar for months before finally returning it to the kitchens. No one had said anything about it, though they’d cancelled court after Damian had first spotted it and consequently disappeared for the rest of the morning.
Tim reaches instead for the dull gray container, measuring out the beans and grinding them with the ease of familiarity while carefully monitoring the pot set to boil over the stove. The routine grounds him in the foreign silence of the early morning and the empty kitchen. Normally, the royal family kitchens were filled with sound and movement as the siblings maneuvered around one another in the familiar dance of preparing for the day ahead.
But Cass, Jason, and Damian had gone West three months now, and Duke had been called away to settle a spat between two minor fiefs to the northern borders about a week ago- leaving Tim to manage the affairs of court by himself.
‘So much for none of us carrying the burden of a throne by ourselves,’ Tim can’t help thinking, a little bitterly. He checks the pot again, draining half the water into the sink before he pours the coffee grounds and takes it off the stove. Three months, and he still prepares too much water lest Damian complain about not having any left for his tea. One would think that he’d get used to the absence after so long.
But then again, he thinks, turning back to stare at the red-yellow-green jar with a robin on top, one of the last things he had left to remember his brother by, some absences are impossible to get used to.
The familiar, rich scent of coffee fills the small kitchenette as he works, drawing a small, bittersweet smile on his face. The early morning routine is a small comfort amongst the burdens and stress of running a kingdom, but these days, it feels like memories, routines, and small comforts are all Tim has left.
And maybe... maybe a little hope.
Tim eyes the letters on the counter. One is from Duke. The minor disturbance on the northern border is more complicated than they'd initially thought, but not as drastic as he'd feared as of his last writing. A week, maybe two, and Tim would have one of his brothers home. Two are from Cass and Jason. They've crossed the Western Wastes, and are headed for Salire, the fabled base of the Titans.
The last is from Damian. It's a picture he found in an inn, in Hatton Corners, he writes. It's a poster of three young men. Two are unknown to him, but the last-
The last Tim would recognize at the end of the world.
"I didn't show Cassandra and Jason. Latest rumors report Robin missing and the Titans on guard. But it's a lead.
We finally found him."
Yes. Maybe a little hope.
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Red Rivers on Porcelain Faces
Summary:
Blood always seemed to dwarf smaller bodies.
It didnt really matter what the wound was; gunshots, stabbings or beatings, pain always seemed to find a home in the skin of the children of Crime Alley.
:readmore:
Blood always seemed to dwarf smaller bodies.
It didn't really matter what the wound was; gunshots, stabbings or beatings, pain always seemed to find a home in the skin of the children of Crime Alley.
The girl was young, thin in the way that a thrifted hoodie three sizes too big wouldn't cover, wouldn't get the chance to grow into. Her hair was dark, either dirt or blood staining what may have once been brown locks a menacing shade of reddish black.
Jason clutched her hand, his fingers scrambling to find a pulse that he knew wouldn't be there. The dull pallor of her skin and the lifeless stare of wide eyes gave as much away. Her murderer lay further down the alley, slumped, lifeless. Maybe Jason should have drawn it out more, made him feel what this girl felt when the bullet ripped through her faded pink hoodie. As it was, the assailant received a bullet of his own, a round red cut out between his eyes.
Batman would be coming soon.
Oracle would have alerted him to the gunfire, to the blank stares of two bodies, looking into the polluted gotham sky searching for stars they couldn't find.
Jason should leave.
Jason should pull himself together and run, scramble across rooftops and pack a bag and get out of dodge for a couple weeks.
Jason couldn't leave. Couldn't abandon this girl who was a little too much like the girls he knew, a few blocks over, a few years ago. This would have been Jason if he hadn't boosted Bruce's tires. This was Jason, at eight, bleeding beneath his fathers fists, at ten corned by men much bigger than him for taking things that weren't his, at fifteen bruised and broken and dead.
This girl was Jason, but unlike Jason she wouldnt be dragged back, kicking and screaming six feet under. She was just gone.
Jason should probably be gone too, he decided at last, slipping gloves fingers over the girls eyes, closing them in the hope that she may find the peace he never did, never would. He didn't know her name.
He stumbled to his feet, and didn't spare a glance at the man who had murdered this child, and climbed the fire escape opposite the dumpster.
He didn't look back, couldn't really. He knew what he would see if he did; green hair and glinting steel, belt buckles and bruised knuckles, bats and teeth and things that go bump in the night.
So instead he ran, to the heart of the alley, through the docks and finally to the outskirts of Gotham where a small safehouse awaited him, motorcycle fueled, go-bag packed. It was an emergency hideout, a stop-here-first-if-you-need-to-run sort of location.
The door slammed shut behind him and he scrambled about the shabby warehouse, tossing fake IDs, passports and clothes in a rucksack that may or may not last the flight out of Texas. His breath was coming faster as he insured that anything irreplaceable was in the small safe under his floorboards. Most of his safehouse were rigged to explode in the event they were compromised and, given the headlights approaching the stretch of road he was occupying, was currently underway.
Fumbling with his key, the ignition to his motorcycle thrummed to life under him, revving his engine just as a smoke pellet cracked through his window.
Jaskn pulled out into the stark, light polluted gotham night and flicked the detonator on, the compromised safehouse crumbling behind him.
War wounds on children were always the hardest to stomach. Watching the life slip away from someone who had never got the chance to appreciate it was agony.
Bruce Wayne had seen too many of his children die infront of him to excuse his son from making the choice of judge, jury and executioner on someone else's child. No matter what crimes that man had committed against the girl in the alley, no one had the right to decide whether he lived or died, to choose their own kind of cruel justice when the courts would give a fair punishment.
The Batman would apprehend the Red Hood at any cost, it didn't matter that Bruce Wayne had held his son as life slipped away from him, it didnt matter that the anger he felt pulsing in his veins towards Leonard Coney, the man in the alley, begged him to sympathize with Jason, that whispered that the man had got what he deserved. Leonard Coney deserved justice too.
And what was the Batman if not justice?
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To Marry a Vigilante: Part 2
MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next
Disclaimer: Masterlist
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The day before Christmas… was a nightmare. Marinette had to admit that Damian was right. Her parents volunteered to help Alfred in the kitchen. The butler tried to argue, but his fighting with Sabine was an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. In the end, they got a compromise that the baker couple would help that day, but would be banned from the kitchen for the rest of Christmas.
The boys meanwhile were ordered to decorate the house and prepare the formal dining room. And it was a mess. First, Dick and Jason spent almost an hour arguing over the decorations, only to then see that Mari and Damian already decorated the room with the merchandise Damian somehow got imported from Paris without their knowledge. Jason tried to dismantle the decorations that were put up without a warning, but it ended with Damian chasing him with a sword… again. It didn’t help that Todd kept riling the youngest Wayne up. Technically second-youngest since he was older than Marinette by a few months, but that’s beyond the point.
Then, when Jason ended up with a slight limp after he crashed into a cupboard when trying to cut the corner and Damian’s bloodthirst got satisfied, it was time for decorating the Christmas tree. When Mari saw the tree, she almost toppled over. It was put in the hall before the stairway to the second floor. It was tall enough to almost reach the ceiling.
“That’s your tree?”
“In my defense, I tried to order a smaller one. It’s not my fault they gave size in the metric system.” Tim argued.
“If you cut on coffee and instead got some sleep once in a while, maybe you would’ve noticed.” Jason snickered.
Dick took the opportunity to climb upstairs and start decoration, only to be caught by Steph, who proceeded to decorate on the other side. Seeing the two already started, the three other boys also raced to start putting decorations. It was a mess, but somehow Marinette found it endearing. It felt… homey. Then she grabbed some decorations and joined Damian. Then she teamed up with Steph to make a large bat symbol on one side out of gold tinsel garland. Then she made a red ‘R’ inside it.
And this time nobody got hurt.
After that, Dick and Jason left for their respective homes. Tim and Steph left shortly after, leaving Damian and Mari alone with the adults. Technically, Cass also stayed at the manor, but unless she wanted to be seen, only Alfred (and now Sabine) could find her.
The teens decided to stay in the Manor. Marinette was dead set on making everyone their gifts by hand. She brought several unfinished designs that could be adjusted. Damian was kind enough to collect the measurements for each family member from Alfred.
And so Mari then spent all evening in her room, where she worked on adjusting and finishing everything. She was beyond grateful that her room was already equipped with a sewing machine and anything else she would need to make the gifts. The whole time Damian sat nearby to offer some advice. Mostly, he just enjoyed watching her work on the designs.
“Do you think putting a Red Robin logo on this tie would be too much?” She asked, showing a red tie with black accents. It had a meticulous black stitch going through the narrow part. It spelled MDC over and over.
“Maybe put it inside, so that it only shows when he put it upside-down,” Damian answered.
“But then nobody will see it.”
“There is a bigger chance someone sees it than if it’s on the front.” The boy deadpanned.
“Don’t be mean.” She scolded him, but her pearly laughter kinda ruined it. She put the tie away and reached for the sunglasses she was working on. They used to be black, but she tinted the glass deep-red and then added details at the side. Now, there was a small silver bullet-shaped decoration where they would fold. She had a case ready where she stitched the shape of a red handgun at the top of black leather.
“And this?”
“Habibti. They will definitely love your gifts.” He gave her a soft smile. “If not, I will introduce them to my sword” He muttered, hoping she would not hear it.
“Damian!” She shouted. His hopes went in flames. “No murdering people!”
“Can I at least maim?” He asked with a hopeful voice.
“Hm… only if you ask me before.” She giggled at his expression.
“I think it is high time I retreat to my bedroom. It’s almost midnight, Angel. Go to sleep.” He stood up and walked outside, only to be met with Sabine’s judging eyes. She watched him carefully before smiling slightly.
“Good. You can go. I will tuck her in.”
After she passed him, Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he held. That woman was scary.
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The next morning was still hectic, but no longer so chaotic. Mari spent half of it locked in her room giving the designs final touches. She did not let Damian or her parents in since she focused on their gifts and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Alfred was the only one who got a peek inside and he didn’t even fear Sabine, so the chances he would tell anything to anyone were less than Joker genuinely apologizing to everyone he ever hurt.
Finally, around midday, Marinette finally revealed herself. The room was a mess of cut fabric, loose papers, and Kwami knows what else. There was also a bowl of water in the corner.
“That was a race.” She commented before grabbing Damian’s hand and dragging him into the living room to share a tea and cookies. All adults cooed.
“So, Habibti. Care to reveal what you made for me?” The boy asked hopefully once they were both sitting side-by-side on the two-people couch. She held a cup of steaming tea while Damian put his in a small cup holder while he was eating a cookie.
“Nope.” She grinned. “But I can tell you that you will like it.”
“From you? I will like any gift.” He answered smoothly.
“Stop it!” She squealed, blushing heavily. “You can’t say things like that out of the blue.”
“Why?” He asked, giving her a barely noticeable smile.
“I can’t go around blushing all the time!”
“But you look so cute with red cheeks.”
“You don’t look so bad either, Mi Amor,” she retorted. She wanted to get some reaction from him, but he only smiled slightly more.
They rested, cuddled together for a bit, enjoying the silence that surrounded them. It was interrupted when suddenly Cass dropped out of the blue. Or from the ceiling, but they would’ve sworn she was not there before.
“You… Cousin?” The girl asked.
“Oh! You must be Cassandra!” Mari recognized her. Cass was maybe her height. She was dressed in workout clothes. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”
“Marinette,” Cass repeated. “Call me Cass. Everyone does.”
“Um… Sure. You can call me Mari if you like?” Both Damian and Cass grinned at that, much to the french girl’s confusion. “Did I miss some joke?”
“No, Angel. It’s just that Grayson’s daughter is named Mar’i” Damian looked at his beloved’s expression.
“Oh. Oh…” The realization dawned on her. “Well, then what about… Nettie?”
“Nettie… Like it.” Cass responded.
“Cass doesn’t speak much.” The boy took it upon himself to explain. “She first learned to communicate through body gestures.”
“Maman told me. I can’t believe aunt Sandra left you with that monster. Maman told her some things though, so maybe next time you two meet she will apologize.”
“Mother… Apologize… Me?” The girl asked in disbelief.
“Maman is a very persuasive person.”
Cass didn’t speak about that, but a memory of the hug two of them shared yesterday surfaced at the top of her thoughts.
“Anyway, you wanted to get to know me? Well… um… I’m fifteen, soon to be sixteen. I love fashion and design and I make almost all of my clothes. I also practice some martial arts in my free time. I love sketching outdoors. There is this small park next to my parent’s bakery that I love to visit. In the past, I adored the works of Gabriel brand, but after the owner turned out to be a major bastard I kinda decided to just stick to my own stuff. What else… I prefer tea to coffee unless I need to pull an all-nighter, my favorite sweets are macarons and my uncle named his soup after me when he won the cooking competition.”
“Soup… good?” Cass decided to ask.
“Oh! It’s the best. Actually, maybe we could ask uncle Wang to cook for our wedding, Dami! Can we? He would be invited anyway but then people would get to…”
“Of course, Habibti.” Damian interrupted her.
“Wedding?” Cass had more questions.
“Oh… Um… You didn’t know?” Marinette doubled back. “Of course you didn’t know. Damian tried to keep it down and I ruined it. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry Dami! I forgot! I was just so…”
Damian, following the usual routine when Mari started to panic, pulled her to his chest, and hugged her. He whispered something low enough for Cassandra not to hear. She did notice the couple’s body language. Devotion and love.
When Marinette finally calmed, Damian let her out of his embrace. “Thanks. I still keep some of my… less desirable habits.”
“It’s no problem. At least I have an excuse to cuddle with you without my brothers’ merciless teasing.”
“Wedding.” Cass urged them. Her curiosity was peaking.
“Ah! Right. So basically Talia kidnapped me and decided I would marry her son and then we both woke up tied before the altar and she threatened to kill us and our families if we didn’t go through with it. And I was so scared back then. And T… And I had no way to do anything else.”
Cass saw her tense and stopped herself. There was more to it, but she didn’t drill. She would learn later. Or just get it out of Tim. He knew everything.
“Well, now we’re stuck and there is this weird spell on us that makes it impossible to cheat on one another. At least I assume it works both ways since Damian didn’t test it.” There was no doubt in her voice and her body showed complete trust. Cass was actually impressed.
“The bitch that my mother is,” Marinette wanted to scold Damian on the language he used, but then again, he spoke about Talia so he wasn’t lying, “used some old curse on us, probably from the time my grandfather was still young. We are tied together. But we made it work.”
“Magic… bad.” Cass scoffed.
“No!” Mari quickly protested. “I mean not all magic is bad. It all depends on who uses it! Besides, everything turned out better than I could’ve ever hoped.”
“Good. I… Like you.” Her cousin smiled. “Hug?” She asked.
“Sure.” Marinette nodded and before she knew it Cass tackled her into the couch, almost breaking her bones.
“Oooh!” a new voice cooed. Damian immediately whirled around with a small dagger that he pulled from wherever he kept it. Selina Kyle was standing there, watching everything.
“Tt. I don’t like being spied upon.” Damian scowled.
“Relax, lover-boy. I just came and I was curious where everyone went and who were the new people.”
“Oh. That’s probably my parents. Alfred kicked them out of the kitchen today. They will probably be relaxing in the garden since they rarely have a chance to just relax. They run a bakery in Paris.” Mari smiled at the newcomer.
“Really now? And you’re the unlucky girl that got stuck with the short, dark, and brooding?”
“Tt. I’m not short.”
“I don’t hear you arguing about the dark and brooding part.” Selina teased.
“Angel, meet my father’s fiancée, Selina Kyle. She is also Catwoman.”
“Oh. She is in on the family business then?”
“Tt. Yes. I don’t keep things hidden from my wife.” Damian kept scowling.
“Aren’t you a dutiful husband?”
“I’m not afraid to defend my wife’s honor with a sword, thief.” The boy threatened. Selina measured him for a moment.
“Good.” She turned to Marinette. “He will do. If he is causing you trouble, you can crash at my place.” She gave her a small square paper with an address before leaving.
“Um… What was that?”
“Tt. That was Selina for you.” Damian was still in a bad mood until Marinette snuggled closer to him.
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Around five, the guests started arriving. It was unanimously decided that the youngest couple would be the ones to greet their guests. And looking at the size of the table, there would be more guests than Mari assumed. Damian was now dressed in a flawless black suit with a matching bowtie and a white shirt. Mari chose to wear the red dress that she knew left Damian speechless every time he saw her. Her hair was let go and formed waves cascading down her back.
Jason was first. He came on his bike alone. While everyone dressed in something elegant, he opted for an oil-stained t-shirt and brown leather jacket, complete with black cargo pants and heavy boots. Marinette had to admit he gave a bad-boy vibe that told her to stay away. But she’s seen this with Ivan and she was pretty sure Jason was, in fact, a big softie once one got to know him.
Next to arrive were Tim and Stephanie. She wore a black and purple knee-length dress. It had no sleeves and hugged her form tightly. The design was several large squares of material sewn together so no two colors were the same. It was an interesting design. Tim wore a blue suit with black accents and a white shirt. They looked like a nice couple. And the boy looked almost awake, which was a success. Also, they were dragging a giant bag of gifts.
Shortly after, a small van pulled close and five people exited. There was an older couple, a joyful boy around their age jumping around them, and two people Marinette recognized instantly. You couldn’t hang around Alya and not recognize Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent.
“Tt. Jon.” Damian greeted the boy.
“Sup Dames? Hello fair lady.” He greeted them, happiness almost oozing from him. Jon went as far as kissing her hand.
“Could you stop with the flowers and rainbows?” Wayne growled.
“But it’s Christmas!”
“Tt. I know.” Damian was angry. Seeing it, his beloved grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.
“Hello Mr. Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent.” Marinette greeted the adults, hoping to diffuse the situation before Damian gets too riled up.
“You must be Marinette. I remember Jon mentioning you when we talked about his trip to Paris.” Clark smiled. He then nodded toward the older couple. “These are my parents, Johnathan and Martha Kent.”
“It’s nice to meet ya, girl.” The man nodded toward her.
“Hi. I’m Marinette.” She gave them a smile. Just as the Kents went inside, another car pulled in.
This time, it was Dick with his wife, Kor’i, and daughter Mar’i. They all got out of the car.
“I still don’t understand why you insist on driving this thing. I could’ve flown us here twice as fast.” The woman had distinctively orange skin and her eyes were entirely green. Marinette instantly recognized her as Starfire. She wore a white shirt with bell-like sleeves that reached to her elbows and blue jeans that ended just above her ankles. Dick had a dark-gray shirt and jeans. She would classify their outfits as smart casual.
“Yeah, daddy! I can fly too!” To prove her point, the little girl rose a bit into the air. She was dressed in an oversized purple jumper that reached to the ground. She also wore white trainers. Her skin was less orange than her mother’s but the color was easily visible. And her eyes were also entirely green without any white. And she was flying. Her hair was black though, as opposed to her mother’s fiery red.
“Sweety. Come here.” Kor’i reached up and grabbed the floating daughter. The girl immediately nuzzled into her and smiled victoriously. She got exactly what she wanted. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.
“Tt. I still find her annoying.” Damian scowled.
“I don’t know, she looks cute to me. And you already admitted that you love cute things.” To make things worse for her love, Marinette gave him puppy eyes and a bright smile. He tried to scowl, but couldn’t muster enough strength to oppose his wife.
Dick almost tripped over the car when he started laughing.
Since they were the last to arrive, Marinette and Damian returned inside to join everyone for festivities.
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Somewhere else, in a much darker place, a lone figure stood in an empty room. His clothes were dirty and torn. The light entered only through a small window.
“So you see? It was all a set-up!” He shouted.
From the shadows, another figure joined.
“But of course, sweetie. Of course.” They said in a patronizing tone. “I will of course help you.”
“You understand me. And what about… Marinette?”
“I don’t understand your obsession with her, but I can share.”
“Whatever. She will be mine!”
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#damienette#Damian Wayne#Damian al Ghul#marinette dupain cheng#marinette x damian#maribat#maridami#arranged marriage AU#guardian!marinette#batman#maribat au#evil!adrien
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Satisfied, Part 27
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~~~
She bit down on the inside of her cheek as she stared at the blank message box.
“You know, most of the time people don’t apologize over text,” said Jason.
“I know that!” She muttered irritably. She turned off her phone and left it to rest on her stomach. “But what do I say?”
“Probably something like ‘Can we talk?’“ He offered.
“That kinda thing usually causes anxiety.”
He grinned. “Maybe in relationships.”
“And maybe in friendships,” Marinette countered.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re stalling.”
“Shut up!” She sighed and closed her eyes.
Could she just go over to see Chloe an apologize? Would she still be upset with her? And, if she didn’t want to talk, what would Marinette do? If she did want to talk, what would she do? Should she make it up to her? How? Chloe could have pretty much anything she wanted, what could a random girl do for her?
She felt Jason pull her into his side and managed a grin.
“How obvious is it that I’m freaking out?”
“Just a bit,” he teased.
She laughed quietly and picked up her phone again, staring at the message box for a bit before beginning to type.
Definitelyforgottosleep: hey do you wanna do something tomorrow
While Chloe had read the message almost instantly, there was no response for a good minute.
Queenbee: Sure where
Ah. She hadn’t genuinely thought she’d get this far. She closed her eyes. What did Chloe like? Shopping? She seemed the type who’d like shopping. But did she?
Definitelyforgottosleep: shopping
Queenbee: Sounds good
She breathed a sigh of relief, closing her eyes. Then, she glanced at Jason.
Definitelyforgottosleep: can i bring someone
Queenbee: Sure I don’t care
She opened her mouth --.
“Nope. Not going.”
She groaned. “Why not?”
“Because I think this is something you should do yourself,” he said simply.
Marinette closed her eyes for a minute. “Where’s Dick? I could probably guilt him into coming.”
Jason must have agreed, because he sent her a glare. “I’m not taking you back to his room.”
“I’ll find him myself if I have to.”
He scoffed. “You’d get lost so quick.”
She batted her eyelashes. “That’s why I wanted you to take me. You wouldn’t let your little sister get lost, would you?”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Oh, so now you pull the ‘little sister’ card?”
She only gave him a cheeky grin in return.
~
And, so, the next day she and Dick found themselves waiting outside the mall. She smiled at all the Halloween decorations, reaching out to poke a giant inflatable ghost.
“Do you not have Halloween in France?”
“No, we do, it’s just not as big a deal.” She grinned. “Do you guys really have Halloween in Gotham? You’d think that you’d avoid letting more people run around in masks.”
He gave a small shrug. “Halloween is Halloween, it’d probably happen even if someone tried to ban it. The bats just end up working a lot harder that night.”
She nodded her understanding. Her eyes slipped past him to where she spotted Chloe approaching, who looked about as anxious as she felt.
“Heeeeey,” she said awkwardly.
She glanced at back at Dick and swore in French when she realized he had retreated back a few steps. She shot him a glare as he made a small motion with his hands as if to say ‘go on and say it’.
Marinette took a deep breath and turned back to the girl.
“I’m sorry about treating you so horribly recently. You’ve been extremely nice to me and I’ve only been rude in return.” She swallowed thickly. “I’m not a great person, I have my issues. I’m trying to work through them. It’s not fair of me to take that out on you.”
“That’s why you invited me out?”
She seemed... disappointed.
Marinette hesitated. “Partially. I really did want to apologize, but I realized I kinda judged you without really knowing anything about you.”
“I wasn’t a great person to you, either, Marinette.”
“Maybe, but I shouldn’t have kept being rude to you once I realized you’d changed.”
“When did you...?”
A blush flooded her skin. “I... noticed back when you ‘found out’ about me. The old Chloe would have used it for blackmail or something but you didn’t. But I wasn’t ready to change.”
Chloe frowned. “And are you ready now?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. “I hope so. I’m trying.”
The girl considered this for a bit, her head tipped to the side with an odd expression on her face. After a while she seemed to come to a decision.
“Hi! I’m Chloe Bourgeois. It’s nice to meet you!”
Marinette blinked and glanced behind her, but there wasn’t anyone there. She looked back at Chloe and stared at her outstretched hand. She was talking to her. It was an offer, she realized. A chance at a new start.
She took her hand.
“It’s... it’s nice to meet you, too. I’m Marinette.”
With the agreement obviously made, Dick walked back over.
Marinette stepped back so they could shake hands. “Alright. Chloe, this is Dick and --.”
"Isn’t that a little bit rude?” Said Chloe, her eyes wide.
“Nope, that’s my name,” said Dick.
“I am... so sorry.”
Marinette snickered. “His name is actually Richard. Apparently they shorten that to Dick here.”
Chloe looked incredulous. “Why?”
Dick shrugged, then glanced Chloe up and down with a slight frown forming on his face. “I know you.”
“You do?”
He nodded slightly and scratched the back of his head. “Definitely... so where...?”
Marinette paled a little bit. With all her anxiety about making sure this went well, she’d forgotten that Dick had done research on Ladybug to try and figure out her identity. There was a high likelihood that he knew that Chloe was Queen Bee, and knowing her would be pretty damning.
“Don’t all rich people kind of know each other?” She said, her face stretching into a tense grin.
Dick gave a small nod. “I guess...” He said, though he didn’t really look like he believed it.
She grabbed both of them by their sleeves. “C’moooon. It’s cold out, we can at least do this inside.”
Shopping with rich people was... weird. You have to be careful what you say. She would say a dress in the window was 'kinda cute’ and they would have their credit cards out in seconds.
One time, when Chloe had seen a store with a lot of outfits in a style she liked, Marinette had been forced to physically drag her away from the counter before she attempted to buy the entire store (not from buying all the outfits in the store, but the store itself). Dick had been no help, just calmly watching on and occasionally throwing in a ‘well, the outfits are cute’ whenever Chloe seemed to be calming down.
Of course, then they had to physically drag Marinette out of the fabric store.
“No working,” insisted Chloe.
She huffed. “But I only have, like, three months left! That’s not nearly enough time!”
“Mom said that four months is perfectly enough time for two outfits.”
Marinette rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. “And it is, but, uh... I may be doing six.”
Chloe stared at her in horror. Fair enough.
Then, Dick laughed. “No wonder you and Tim get along so well.”
All she could do was smile sheepishly. This smile quickly morphed into terror as Chloe took out of her phone.
“I’m calling my mom. We’re cancelling yours.”
Marinette gasped. “No! You can’t.”
“It’s for your own good, Marinette,” she said, pulling her phone out.
She glanced at Dick for help, but all he did was shrug as if to say ‘she’s got a point’.
“Traitor,” she hissed, before making a mad grab for the phone, only to have it held out of reach. She tugged on Chloe’s arm, throwing her whole weight into it, but there was nothing she could do without compromising her identity in front of Dick.
Huh. So this is what it feels like to be on the other side. Man. This sucks.
After a few seconds of thought, though, she let go. “You can’t keep me from making the outfits. Not really. I’m still going to do them even if you cancel.”
Chloe’s finger hovered over the send button.
“And, when you see the designs, you’ll want to wear them more than whatever you can scrounge up from someone you find within three months. So I’ll make them.”
“You wouldn’t.”
She smiled innocently. “Oh? Try me.”
The two stared each other down, searching for a hint of a bluff, daring them to call it.
Chloe put her phone away with a glare.
Dick grinned. “Definitely see why you and Tim get along so well.”
~
At Chloe’s request, they walked into a costume store.
Marinette grinned at the new Ladybug outfits, trying to suppress a squeal. Chloe found where she was looking and laughed quietly.
“What?” Asked Dick, following her gaze and narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
Crap. She needed an excuse.
“I’m a little bit of a fan,” she ‘admitted’ with a sheepish grin.
Chloe tipped her head to the side as she took in the lie, then smiled and ruffled her hair. “Of course she’d be, her ex-bestfriend was obsessed with Ladybug. She had a lot of good stuff on her blog before... Lila.”
They both shuddered. At least they had a little bit of common ground.
“Why don’t you dress up as her for Halloween?” Asked Dick in a tone that was far too innocent. “You look a bit alike, I think it’d be cool.”
Marinette laughed and shook her head. “No, no. It’s like I said, the French don’t really celebrate Halloween, and I’m not that interested in starting in Gotham of all places.”
He gave a quiet huff of annoyance and they continued walking through. Chloe picked up a Heather McNamara outfit and grinned. “Well, Mlle. Designer, what do you think?”
She tipped her head to the side as she thought, then nodded. “That’d be cute. It matches your usual colors, too. I don’t think I can imagine you in anything other than yellow at this point, anyways.”
Chloe stuck her tongue out at her and she returned it. Because they’re both mature adults.
Marinette grinned and picked up a black wig, dropping it on to Chloe’s head despite the girl’s protests. “I say we take her into Wayne Mansion like this and see how long it takes Bruce to adopt her.”
Dick glanced back and gave a short laugh. “She wouldn’t even make it in the door, are you kidding me?”
Chloe blinked a few times, then gasped. “HOLY SHIT YOU’RE A WAYN --?!”
Both of her companions had clamped their hands over her mouth, but it was far too late for that. Now people were staring, and a few were fumbling for their cameras. It certainly didn’t look good, the eldest Wayne child hanging out with two girls who were barely legal.
Dick tossed a wad of cash at the register to pay for Chloe’s outfit and then turned to Marinette.
“Run?”
“Run,” Marinette agreed.
They each grabbed one of Chloe’s arms and booked it.
~~~
Christ. Three hours of work for like ten words. Kill me pls
~
Taglist
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Double Cross (Jason Todd)
Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess
This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!
Masterlist in bio/pinned!
Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 6937
Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into
-- 36 hours ago --
Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.
A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain.
You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.
"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"
With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground.
"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"
You complied.
-- Now --
The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair.
You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.
“Good morning, Agent”
You only nodded, looking down to the table.
“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”
“Sure” You nodded again.
Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”
“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon”
“Which wanted criminal should that be?”
“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”
“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”
“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”
They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.
So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.
“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”
“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”
“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”
“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”
“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.
“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”
You remained silent.
“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”
He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading.
“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”
You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves?
“Beta team, report”
You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on.
“Nothing to report on the north road”
“Clear in the valley”
“Farmer’s house empty”
“No traffic on the south road”
You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.
“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes.
“You made the right choice”
“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”
“You won’t”
“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”
“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”
“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.
“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”
“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”
“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”
You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you.
You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side.
You weren’t the only shooter.
Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.
“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.
“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”
You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”
“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips.
“You here for Hiko?”
“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”
Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least.
“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”
He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”
“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”
He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”
“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”
“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days”
“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic.
“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”
“How so?”
“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”
“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.
“We could say that...”
You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet.
You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”
“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet.
“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”
“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”
“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”
“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”
“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.
“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”
“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly.
“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”
You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”
“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker.
“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.
“Please, go ahead”
He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”
You nodded. “What can I do for you?”
“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”
“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”
“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”
“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”
“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”
You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”
“You keep impressing me”
“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”
“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”
“You’re an ass, you know that?”
He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”
“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”
He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”
“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”
“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”
“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”
“Oop, sure”
Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”
“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”
“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.
“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”
“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”
“Because it wasn’t”
“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”
This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.
“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”
“So that means yes”
“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills”
“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker.
“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”
“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?”
“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”
“So why me?”
“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”
“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”
“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”
“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”
Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”
“At that time it did seem like a good idea”
“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”
“Well, if we consider the time when--”
“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”
“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”
You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.
“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.
“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”
“Expecting what?”
“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong”
“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.
“I do”
His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”
“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”
“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands.
“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”
“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.
“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”
“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.
“As I was saying”
That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated.
It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him.
And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--
“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have.
“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”
“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”
“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”
“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”
“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”
“Where do you wanna eat?”
You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”
“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”
“What about chipotle?”
“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”
Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”
“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice.
“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”
“Thank you”
“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”
“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”
“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”
You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”
“No. This is not up for discussion”
You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”
“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”
“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”
He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”
You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”
He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”
“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”
“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”
“And that plan was…”
“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”
“Be as thorough as you can”
“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”
“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”
“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”
“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”
You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you.
“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”
“Thank you”
“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"
“Of course”
“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”
You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke.
-- 36 hours later --
The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.
He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor.
You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking.
“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”
“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you.
“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”
“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”
You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”
“So you gave yourself up”
"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”
“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”
“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”
“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.
“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”
You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun.
“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”
He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed.
You smiled. “You”
With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.
Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity.
“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”
“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”
They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.
“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!”
Seconds later, it exploded.
“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”
“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”
You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”
You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”
“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”
You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.
“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”
“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”
You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd fic#red hood x reader#red hood x you#jason todd imagine#red hood#red hood imagine#dc#dcu#dc universe#dc imagine#dcu imagine#dc universe imagine#batfam#batfam imagine#imagine#jason todd x you#outlaws
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100 Questions I have about the final season of The 100
1. What was the point of the time dilation other than to give us Hope’s character?
2. Why did Dyoza, Octavia and Gabriel keep seeing the spiral image in the last season?
3. Why did Russell and Jordan also see the spiral images but not Murphy?
4. What did Murphy see when he was under the toxin?
5. Is there really a Hell?
6. What are the spiral images?
7. Are they a symbol of immortality from the higher beings?
8. Why was Jordan the only one to have glimpsed transcendence during his psychosis?
9. Why did Echo and Hope cut their hair?
10. Was it just a point of personal preference or because it helped them pass as disciples?
11. Why was Dev, a disciple, happy to help Hope infiltrate Bardo?
12. Why was Orlando seemingly more religious than Dev?
13. Why was the Anomaly from Sanctum under water on Skyring?
14. Why was the underwater Anomaly on Skywring always open?
15. Why did the temporal flare last season cause Octavia’s arm to age?
16. How did the Anomaly heal Octavia’s arm?
17. What was the point of Gabriel, Echo and Hope living on Skyring for 5 years?
18. How did Sheidheda’s spirit move from Madi to Russell?
19. Why were none of the other commanders in Russell’s body?
20. How did Sheidheda die originally?
21. What happened to Sheidheda to make him so violent and power hungry?
22. When Bellamy prayed on Etherea, how did he see and speak to Cadogan?
23. Why did the higher beings show themselves to Bellamy in particular?
24. After Bellamy prayed, how did the storm pass?
25. Was it the higher beings that calmed the storm, and why?
26. What do the eggs hatch into on Etherea?
27. When did Cadogon make his journey on Etherea?
28. If Cadogan knew the flame was on Earth, why didn’t he ever go back to find it?
29. What did Becca see when she was with the higher beings that made her so frightened?
30. If Cadogan loved Callie so much, why didn’t he go searching for her whilst she was alive?
31. What is the significance of Niylah telling Echo that her mother was Azgedakru?
32. Why didn’t Indra kill Sheidheda when she had the chance so he couldn’t be captured and used by the disciples?
33. Why was Clarke happy to shoot Madi when she found her paralysed?
34. Why didn’t Clarke, Octavia and Levitt attempt to take Madi away from Bardo to stop any further attempts to harm and use her brain?
35. Why did Clarke just leave Madi alone, paralysed and defenceless, whilst she went off to get revenge?
36. Why did the gang decide to cause a distraction so they could infiltrate Bardo and kill Cadogan even though Gaia had already explained that killing Cadogan wouldn’t stop fate, and that another disciple would simply take his place?
37. How did Sheidheda sneak into the final battle without being seen?
38. Why didn’t the pier change into something familiar for Clarke after she shot Cadogan, just like how Callie turned into Lexa?
39. When Clarke failed the test, why didn’t the higher beings wipe out the human race, like, straight away?
40. If the higher beings judge one member in place of the whole species, and Clarke failed, why did they change their mind by observing the rest of the human race?
41. Why did the higher beings allow the human race to transcend, when Raven only asked for them to have “more time” to do better?
42. Who are the higher beings and where did they originate from?
43. Are the higher beings aliens or gods?
44. Are the higher beings simultaneously everywhere?
45. When people transcend, do they also become the higher beings, and are they everywhere?
46. When people transcend, do they all have one mind?
47. As part of the higher beings, can the rest of the human race think and feel for themselves?
48. Can the transcended human race experience love and happiness?
49. Does the transcended human race have free will?
50. Do the transcended all have the power and knowledge that the higher beings have?
51. What do the Bardoans look like?
52. Why did the Bardoans fail the final test?
53. What qualities are the higher beings judging during the test?
54. What aspects does a species have to have in order to transcend?
55. Why do the higher beings use Gen-9 to crystallize species’?
56. Why do the higher beings annihilate entire species’, instead of just denying them transcendence and allowing them to live?
57. What do the higher beings actually want and what is their end goal?
58. If Earth is green and habitable again, why did everyone travel 75 light years to Sanctum?
59. Why didn’t everyone just go into cryosleep for 75 years above Earth and wait?
60. Why didn’t anyone acknowledge that Monty was wrong to believe Earth would never be habitable again?
61. Why did Clarke shoot Bellamy in the heart?
62. Why was Emori not shown more clearly in the final scene?
63. If transcendence is a choice, why didn’t Emori, Levitt and Echo return to their mortally wounded bodies?
64. Did the higher beings magically heal and revive the three of them just as a favour?
65. During their time as transcended, did the three of them have that power to mend their bodies?
66. Why didn’t Emori return from transcendence into her mind drive which was in Murphy’s body?
67. Did Gabriel and Josephine transcend if their mind drives hadn’t been destroyed?
68. Would Gabriel have been happy to live forever, considering his motto “death is life”?
69. Why did the higher beings remove the group’s ability to procreate?
70. How do the higher beings even have the power to do that?
71. Is Murphy and Emori really okay with not ever having children, especially as they helped so many children in Sanctum?
72. Is Indra, Niylah and Miller okay with never seeing the rest of Wonkru again?
73. Is Raven okay with living her life without finding someone, settling down and having children?
74. Doesn’t Gaia, Niylah, Miller and Jackson want to have children too?
75. Is Octavia and Levitt okay with not having children?
76. Is Jordan and Hope okay with not having children?
77. What would happen if any of these couples on Earth broke up or fell out of love, as some of them have only known each other for a few months?
78. Are the people left on Earth not gonna get bored of each other?
79. Why didn’t they collectively acknowledge that Bellamy was right and that Clarke was wrong to kill him?
80. Why didn’t they have a memorial or funeral for Bellamy?
81. If the moral of the show is that “there is more to life than just surviving”, why did the majority of the human race decide to become one with immortal beings?
82. Why did Madi choose transcendence over being with Picasso and potentially being with her other friends on Sanctum again?
83. Did Clarke’s friends choose not to transcend just because they didn’t want Clarke to be alone, even though it’s her own fault she couldn’t transcend?
84. How has Raven still got that orange puffer jacket?
85. Why was the Anomaly and the higher beings only introduced last season?
86. Why does transcendence sound a lot like the City of Light?
87. Why did everyone want to destroy the City of Light when ALIE was trying to convert everyone, but so happy with transcending?
88. Why did no one acknowledge how similar the higher beings were to ALIE?
89. Were Clarke’s friends really the only members of the entire human race that wanted to live mortal lives?
90. Was there no one else in Wonkru, Bardo or Sanctum who wanted their old lives back?
91. Why did no one stick up for Bellamy?
92. What was the point of having Bellamy “die”, come back and then to actually die alone and with all his friends hating him?
93. Why couldn’t Bellamy die protecting his friends, or being a hero?
94. Can Bellamy’s friends at least acknowledge the sacrifices he made for them?
95. Why did Clarke realise in Season 6 that she shouldn’t have chosen Madi over Bellamy, asked Bellamy for forgiveness, and then still made the same mistake and chose Madi over Bellamy in Season 7?
96. Why was everyone so against giving Cadogan the flame, when they didn’t need to fight in the war, and they didn’t believe in transcendence anyway?
97. Why couldn’t Bellamy have just survived the bullet wound with help from Bardo’s technology, and reunite with his friends in the end as a hero?
98. Why was Bellamy not even mentioned in the final scene?
99. Was that final scene overlaid with the scene of Clarke drawing on the floor of her cell from Season 1 a hint that this was all in her imagination?
100. Why is Jason Rothenberg incapable or re-writing an ending to his own show that makes sense, compliments the overarching theme of the series, progresses the characters, AND does not compromise the health and wellbeing of his cast and crew? 🤷♀️
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The Good Place: Beauty and the Beast
Chidi is a wealthy, intellectual prince who has been conversing with the philosophical and ethical academics of his day. After inheriting his land, he finds he cannot rule simply because he cannot make a decision. He is surrounded by councillors who are constantly at each other’s throats, refusing to compromise and each convincing Chidi that if he agrees with the other side, he is set to doom the kingdom. (Good Place Committee and Doug vs Shawn and Demons).
Michael and Janet, angels, are sent by the judge to test him by forcing him to make a simple decision. They come to Chidi’s castle at night and claim to be an impoverished father and daughter in need of emergency funds. Chidi’s advisors all have different opinions on how to proceed. Doug says that he should just hand over the money.
Chidi worries that if he gives them the money then he will have to decide who is worthy of money and who is not. The Good Place committee want to go through a lot of procedures to grant some funds, on certain conditions, in a convoluted way that gives Chidi some structure on donating money, but means it comes too late for Janet and Michael and restricts what they can do with it, and Shawn and the Demons are pressing just to refuse and saying that Janet and Michael should have taken better care of themselves.
Chidi is so indecisive that Michael puts a curse on the castle, declaring that only when Chidi learns to know his own heart, will the curse be lifted.
Chidi has dedicated the last few centuries trying to find ‘the answer’. He believes that in finding his true love and marrying, he will know his own heart.
Many years later, Tahani is the daughter in a wealthy family, whose younger sister has just made an advantageous match despite being younger. To prove herself equal to her sister, Tahani remembers the story of the monster who will turn into a prince when he weds. She goes to the rumoured cursed castle, determined to win the prince’s love and become a princess.
Eleanor is a traveller healer who sells fake cures, and breaks into the castle to spend the night (and see if there is anything worth nicking.)
Jason hides out in the castle after trying to steal a large bunch of things and trying to escape on a horse (it was actually a donkey) and having to run on foot.
Chidi formally welcomes them into his hall, but when he finds out that Eleanor and Jason are fugitives he is torn between handing them over to the authorities, and protecting them as his guests.
Michael tells Chidi that because he cannot decide what to do with his guests, they are now all trapped there until the curse is lifted. The others in the castle then try to help Chidi learn to understand his heart (whilst each initially trying to manipulate him to their own advantage; Tahani making herself to appear the perfect princess, Eleanor getting him to help her escape persecution, Jason just wanting fun). When they think they have come up with an answer, Michael and Janet create tests for Chidi to prove he has learned.
He gradually learns from their example.
Tahani is able to take charge of the squabbling councillors, moderating their discussions and keeping things moving, she encourages Chidi to take control.
Chidi sees that Jason’s impulsivity is damaging, but when Jason explains that it’s better to make a decision than not, even if it is not the best one available, because that is better than not acting. Jason is also encouraged to give a bit more thought to his actions.
Eleanor and Chidi start falling in love. Eleanor admits to always just trying to make things as good for herself as possible, and says that there will always be shitty things in the world so they just need to accept it. She says that she used to never want to do good because she figured she would fail. Chidi tells Eleanor it is better just to try, which helps make a breakthrough. She helps Chidi deal with the flaws in the world, and in turn she learns from Chidi’s kindness.
Chidi realises he is in love with Eleanor. He thinks about how the curse has interpreted knowing his heart as knowing who he loves, the ultimate awareness of knowing himself. He knows that Tahani is the perfect princess, and in her tastes and intelligence is a better match for him. But flawed, messy Eleanor is the one he loves.
He lifts the curse by realising and accepting that he and his decisions will always be flawed, but as long as he is motivated by love in each decision, he will be doing what is best.
Michael witnesses this and lifts the curse. Chidi is surprised that Michael has not tested this, and Michael explains that he thinks he has kept Chidi and the others locked up for too long, and the most loving thing would be to let them go.
#The Good Place#chidi anagonye#eleanor x chidi#eleanor shellstrop#Michael#Janet#tahani al jamil#jason mendoza#Beauty and the Beast
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Broken Harmony Pt28
Inspired by @ozmav Maribat AU
Master List 1 Master List 2 Prologue Beginning Previous Next
“Mlle. Bourgeous.” Chloe and Marinette stopped talking when Bruce addressed her. She straightened back up, defaulting into her original demeanor. It was a front when she felt threatened, similar to his if he was honest.
“M. Wayne.” Her tone held wariness and Damian could tell she was expecting a less than warm welcome. He wasn’t sure if that was just because it was what she was used to or because she was expecting it from Bruce specifically. Marinette rubbed the girls back soothingly and he caught the confused look that passed between her parents.
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” No one expected that least of all Chloe. She physically recoiled and looked about ready to decline but Marinette spoke up first.
“I’d really like to catch up if you don’t have any other plans.” The poor girl looked like she’d woken up in an alternate dimension. Apparently that lost look moved Marinette’s parents enough for Sabine to go into mom mood. She walked up to Chloe and put an arm around her shoulders.
“We’d love for you to join us” Tom gave her an encouraging smile and she looked like her brain melted.
“Okay.” Before she could think about it or reconsider they were all seated in the dining room. She still looked extremely uncomfortable but didn’t appear to be ready to bolt anymore. She was situated between Sabine and Marinette and kept inching closer to the latter as if afraid Sabine might turn on her. Given what she’d said about being a bully he could understand why.
“So Marinette have you given any thought to what school you want to transfer to.” He watched his soulmate blink in surprise at the question before her cheeks turned pink.
“No actually. Between making your gifts and talking to the ‘not sisters’ there wasn’t a lot of time. Besides, I’d like to get to know Damian better first because I have a feeling he’ll go with whatever I want but I want it to be a school he actually likes too.” The boys awed over her sweetness while Damian rolled his eyes before Dick hooked into the other thing she said.
“Wait what do you mean ‘not-sisters’?” Damian scowled before answering.
“Babs decided to hack into Marinette’s computer so she, Steph, and Cass could see her.” The boys erupted into complaints that the girls got to meet her first but Bruce just let out a sigh, running his hand down his face in annoyance. “I told them it was an unacceptable violation of privacy, and that holds for you lot as well.” He pinned each of his brothers with a glare, lingering on Tim.
“I feel insulted that you believe we would resort to such tactics.” Tim’s words were only met with another glare. Bruce stepped in before it could go further.
“Marinette is Damian’s soulmate. They will decide what safety measures to take and we will abide by them. They do not need our interference or meddling. It will also be up to Marinette to decide what she wishes to share with us.” He stared down each of the boys in turn but also lingered on Tim.
“Oh come on, you act like I’m the only one who does research. Besides you’re the one that asked me to clone her phone.”
“You did what?” Damian’s voice was soft but the other boys flinched. Bruce just gave a tired sigh.
“I figured there were things on it Marinette would want later so I had Tim clone it so we could give the actual phone to the police but she would still have everything. After what happened tonight I think we can all agree that giving them the only copy of that harassment is a bad idea.” There were nods and grumbling from around the table but Chloe turned to Marinette.
“What harassment?” His Angel’s cheeks flushed pink again.
“It’s really nothing. They were just getting out their frustration.” Her words had the effect of a bomb going off. Denials were shouted from almost everyone present. Damian was fairly certain he heard Jason muttering about getting his guns while Sabine said something in Mandarin that almost made him blush. It was Tom that let out a piercing whistle to get everyone’s attention. His wife shot him a surprised look but the rest simply dropped their grumbling to a reasonable level.
“Sweetheart, Bruce showed us those messages before he left last night. That’s not frustration. They were threats and worse and you didn’t do anything to deserve them.”
“Can I see the messages?” Everyone seemed surprised by Chloe’s request.
“I don’t see how that could possibly be a good idea.” Bruce’s words pushed the girl back into her ‘holier than thou’ mode. Damian could practically see the superiority dripping from the girl.
“Because I know them and unlike Marinette I don’t have a romanticized view of those losers. I can tell what is out of character or not and tell you the likelihood of them acting on those threats because I’d be willing to be not all of the are idle. If I’ve learned anything about Rossi it’s that she’s capable of getting people to do things they wouldn’t otherwise. The only people she hasn’t managed to corrupt in some way are Marinette and myself. Adrien knows she’s a liar and she still somehow got into his head enough to make him think this is acceptable and that Mari is the problem.”
Marinette was frowning in thought while the boys tried to dissuade Chloe from wanting to look at the phone. Damian could tell they were just putting her back up more but didn’t see anyway to fix that so he just stayed silent.
“She’s right.” Everyone was silenced by Marinette’s soft words. She looked at Bruce and they could all see the pain in her eyes. “Chloe has both an inside and outside perspective of the situation that’s invaluable. I’m too close to the situation and you’re all too far away. Chloe’s the best bet we have to stop anyone from doing something foolish and making things worse.”
Damian watched as his father contemplated her words. His brothers just looked at each other. He had a feeling they were trying to come up with another argument. Marinette’s parents were both oddly blank so he had no idea what could be going through their heads. Chloe was just staring at Marinette in shock. She obviously didn’t expect anyone to agree with her.
“Thank you.” The words were soft but the feeling behind them made Damian think they weren’t just meant for this one instant.
“Tim, give her the phone.” Tim looked like he was going to argue but Bruce’s face made him think twice about it. “We can’t afford to leave resources on the table right now. If Marinette is willing to trust her then that should be good enough for the rest of us.” Tim gave an annoyed grunt but did hand over the phone.
Chloe made sure to angle herself so that Marinette couldn’t get a look at the screen, which Damian was grateful for, before unlocking it to look at the messages. The more she read the more shocked her expression became before turning sickly. He had a feeling she got to the one with the detailed suicide instructions. She handed the phone back to Tim looking a little queasy.
“I’d say the immediate physical threats would come from Alya, Adrien, and Kim. The rest don’t seem likely to take action on their own, but it won’t stop them from ganging up on Mari or trying to intimidate her through texts and social media.”
“Why those three?” It sounded like a normal question but Damian could tell Tim was using it as a test. Chloe sighed and rubbed her temples.
“Kim used to think he was in love with me and despite my showing no interest and being a bitch actually thought he had a chance. Judging from the tone of his messages he’s transferred that infatuation to Lila and she’ll use it to her advantage in any way she can. The idea to go after Mari would come from her but it would be Kim that’s the most likely to act on it. Adrien…” She paused and looked to be holding back tears. Marinette put a comforting hand on her arm and she took a deep breath before continuing. “His messages are extremely possessive. It’s clear that he considers Mari his property and is not going to react well to her leaving or doing anything he hasn’t approved of. As for Alya, she’s the most volatile. She’s always been brash and jumped into things without thinking but with Lila there to stoke the fire and aim her negative feelings I’d say she’s the most likely to get akumatized and go after Mari beside’s Lila herself.”
Damian had to admit she made a good case and given the interaction last night with Adrien he knew she was right about at least one of them. Marinette was right, Chloe would be a good asset in this battle. Tim looked like he wanted to argue but Damian caught his eye and shook his head. None of them knew these kids well enough to contradict Chloe’s opinion.
“What do you think Angel?” Marinette started a little at his question before looking at Chloe. The two simple stared at each other for a minute before she gave a small, tired sigh.
“I trust her judgement. I know she’s right about Adrien and as much as I don’t want to believe it of the others my judgement is compromised and I know Chloe’s head for politics makes her more observant and analytical than the average person. If that’s who she thinks is a threat then they are.”
He could tell how much it hurt her to say those words and admit that people she once considered friends were a threat. He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into his shoulder thoroughly drained. The rest of the table was murmuring about precautions and threat levels but he just wanted to concentrate on his soulmate and offer what comfort he could. It was actually kind of peaceful. That didn’t last.
“Little M! I didn’t expect to see you here, how have you been?”
Master List 1 Master List 2 Prologue Beginning Previous Next
Tag list for Broken Harmony
Thanks for all the positive responses! Here’s the tag list I’ve go so far. If I missed anyone let me know.
@crazylittlemunchkin @iggy-of-fans @captainmac6 @shizukiryuu @origami-dreams @yamadochie @drama-queen-supreme @miraculousbelladonna @mjisntme @zebrabaker @driftingmoonlitpetals @slytherinhquinn @politelyvicious @mystery-5-5 @constancetruggle @synnesstra @im-here-for-the-content @slytherinsheashire @myriad-of-passionate-pettiness @cyborgcandy @rhub4rb @satans-favorite-homo @beautym3 @ayuchan07 @zalladane @moonlitarchangels @mooshoon @mindfulmagics @saphiraazure2708 @chrismarium @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry @tog84 @littleredrobinhoodlum @cupcakeandkisses @kiara-rose-blackthorn @moonlitarchangels @graduatedmelon @lunar-wolf-warrior @tbehartoo @zoerayne2426 @ellerahs @heaven428 @my-name-is-michell @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @myownworldstayout @alexzandria-747 @k-rena-k @vivilakitty @redscarlet95 @un1cornf1ghter @bookreader20003 @nataladriana9 @resignedcatservant @blue-peach14 @royalchaoticfangirl @melicmusicmagic @dani-ari @captain-rice @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @fiendsangelical @chloe-bourgeois-is-big-gay @ladylb @vixen-uchiha @spicybelladonna @asteriodd @thatrandomfandomsgirl @laurakinneylance @casual-darkness @sam-spectra @romanoff-queen @ki117h3dr4g0n @thequietestlilbucket @silvergold-swirl @alwaysnumberonetruth @bigcheeseyboi @alexresides @grandmaveitch @bluefiredemon @emjrabbitwolf @brinxiethebear @xxmadamjinxx @shadowberrybinch @tinybrie @t-nikki10 @yuuki-uzumaki @kurogaya913 @roseinbloom02 @7-sage-7 @northernbluetongue @violatiger8 @schrodingers25 @sassy-spocko @lysslovsanime @jessigurl-design @danielslilangel @creator-josie @skystarssun @kuhakuanon @tritaledkitsune @interobanginyourmom @kandi-pie @eliza-bich @asianfrustration13 @two-faced-biatch @goggles-mcgee @asianfrustration13
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Settling into any form of a routine that involves a change scares him. One that involves a change in the one stable thing in his life, him and Carly, that downright terrifies him. Forget about the fact that half the town knows they hooked up, now he's got... Feelings coming up that involve her. Feelings that he'd buried fifty feet into the ground and covered in cement.
At least, he'd thought he did.
Clearly, they've resurfaced now. He can't help but laugh to himself at that, the knowledge that of course Hurricane Carly lands without warning, yet again. Changing everything and not meaning to whatsoever. Destroying every defense he builds in between landfall and wrecking the stability he manages to get.
In an attempt to ward off these feelings that could complicate everything, he thinks of times she's hurt him. Probably not the best defensive strategy, but he gives not a damn. Whatever works.
Nothing really works until he remembers the time she broke his heart. The last time he'd loved her that way, had any feelings of romantic love towards her. She'd slept with his best friend, who'd manipulated her into thinking he was in love with Elizabeth Webber.
It destroyed him, the betrayal of not only Carly but Sonny's role in it. The fact his supposed best friend had done that to him, knowing how he felt about her and knowing it would hurt him. Half the time, Jason wasn't sure how he'd managed to stay in town so long after it happened, even for Michael's sake. The bullet wound he'd gotten the same night hadn't managed to hurt him as much as seeing her come down the stairs of Sonny's penthouse in his t-shirt, smelling of his cologne.
And the bullet had a good chance of killing him.
So he got on his motorcycle and skipped town, numbing the pain by getting adrenaline highs. And it worked, he was able to process everything and fall out of love with her as she fell in love with Sonny.
Finding out that she was pregnant with Sonny's kid stopped whatever healing he'd done for a solid few days as he allowed himself to go back to drowning the pain in whatever, or whoever, he could find. It was a terrible, self destructive thing, but he'd become like that by then, so it didn't matter anymore.
Getting back to Port Charles had been one of the most difficult things for him to ever do in his life. It took months for him to be over her enough to dare step foot within the limits of the city.
But he did, he was able to get over her. He'd attempted to build up walls around her, but as always, she tore those down. They were never in love again, or even close to it. Aside from a single "the world is ending" kiss, they'd been friends. Best friends. The type who defend each other when everyone else hated them and were, without question, always there for each other.
They trusted each other with their lives, still do, after a certain point. He'd even stopped futilely trying to build up defenses against her and it reached a point they always dropped whenever they were talking. She had a way of breaking down all his walls without any energy that no one else he'd ever known did.
Still, thinking about this as she's answering a text hasn't gotten him to lose the feelings or shove them down again. Dammit, he was very much hoping he could.
This is a bad sign.
"Whatcha thinking about?" Carly asks, noticing he's lost in thought.
"Nothing interesting," he responds. "Just business stuff."
"You're lying," she presses. "Did I miss something?"
"No, I'm just not thinking of anything important." Jason counters.
"I know when you're lying to me, Jason, so just tell me the truth."
"I'm just thinking about this whole kidnapping thing," he says, which isn't a lie; he had been thinking about it as well.
"And?"
He shakes his head at that, a small smile playing on his lips at how easily she can read him. "And I'm thinking about Sonny." That's the truth, but he's thinking more of the hurt Sonny caused than the man himself. Still, thinking about the man.
She nods before letting out a loud sigh. "I've got to get out of this room. Can we go on a walk around this boring hospital?"
"You wanna walk by yourself? Alright, let's see that," he quips.
"If I feel like I'm falling, I'll just have you catch me," she counters, smiling as she shifts under the covers to get out of the bed. "After all, you always do."
"I still think this is a terrible idea."
"Just go along with it. I've had worse," Carly orders, standing up and wincing.
"You're in pain."
"I don't care, I'm going to get out of this room."
"Do you want a wheelchair? Or a walker?" Jason offers, knowing better than to ask her to stay in the room.
"I will do this myself, with your help," she declares. "So get out of the chair and help me do a lap around this hospital floor."
Sighing, he stands up and follows her lead. "See? This isn't so bad, is it?" Carly beams at him through her pain. It's written all over her face, but as usual, she expects it to be covered with a smile.
"Not for me, but you're going to hurt yourself, Carly," he counters. "Please, let me get you a walker."
"No," she says stubbornly, "I'm doing this myself."
"Excuse me, Amy, can I please get a walker for my friend here?" Jason asks the nurse, who agrees peppily, despite Carly's protests.
"Jason, I'm fine. I don't need a walker."
"Then humor me and use one."
"I'm not doing this."
"You don't have a choice. Unless, of course, you'd like a wheelchair," he responds with a knowing smirk.
"I'm only doing this for you," she sighs, giving in as Amy hands her the walker. "This is so embarrassing, god."
"It's taking care of yourself, it's not embarrassing."
"Maybe everyone will be too caught up gossipping about us to realize I'm using one of these things," the blonde grimaces, though she's walking better with the assistance of the walker. "Little Lizzie might've done something good with her big mouth, for once."
Rolling his eyes, he says, "You know, most people would be enjoying their oppirtunity to relax."
"Have you ever considered me a regular person?" Carly asks, a glint of defiance and pride in her eyes. "Seriously. Ever since we met at Jake's, have you ever thought that I'm typical?"
"That night at Jake's, I thought you looked good. That's pretty much all I thought when it came to you that night," he answers. "But if you're asking if I consider you normal now, no. I consider you Carly."
"I can't tell if that's an insult or a compliment."
"Then you get to pick which it is."
"You know, sometimes your refusal to answer my questions is a pain in the ass," she says, wincing in pain yet again.
"And sometimes your stubbornness is a pain in mine. Like right now, when you're clearly in pain and pretending not to be," Jason tells her as they round the corner to the nurse's station.
"I'm not in pain," she protests. "I'm just sore. Really sore."
"Do you want a wheelchair?"
"I can walk, Jason."
"And it hurts when you do. Come on, you don't want to be all hopped up on painkillers when Wiley comes to visit later," he counters.
"When you put it like that-"
"Hey Willow, can I exchange her walker for a wheelchair?" Jason asks when they near the brunette at work.
"Of course," she smiles, finding one and bringing it out.
"Thank you."
"They pay me the big bucks to do this, no thanks necessary," Willow smiles again as Carly sits, defeated, in the wheelchair and allows Jason to push her.
"This is worse than the walker," she complains. "At least then I was walking on my own. Now I've got to be carted around by you. Which, don't get me wrong, I'm enjoying the VIP treatment, but I also don't want to be here, in a hospital. And I want to be at court tomorrow."
"We'll talk to the doctors and see if they say you can go tomorrow," he compromises. "But they might say you've got to be in a wheelchair when you go."
Groaning as they reach her room, she says, "I guess I could live with that. It'd probably make the judge give Cyrus a longer sentence, seeing me in the wheelchair, too. He could get life in solitary!"
"I'll pull some strings and he'll end up in solitary no matter what," Jason agrees as she gets out of the wheelchair and into the bed yet again. "But I think you need to rest before Wiley comes, or one of the doctors, or a lawyer, or someone else who needs your attention."
"If this is your way of saying I'm annoying-"
"It's not, but I want you to be healed."
"I'm healing!"
"You barely made it ten feet without wincing, Carly. That's not healed, that's in pain," he reminds her.
"Which is a part of healing."
Sighing, he says, "I want you to heal fully. Then you can go back to running the world. The best way for you to heal is to sleep and rest up while you can."
"Fine. But I'm doing this for you."
"I know."
To be continued after school probably lol I hate America
@ryleighjosephine
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Dancing Judge
The episode might’ve been about Shawn but the new confident Chidi who is unphased by Time Knife is almost unnerving but I loved the skates. Old Chidi would never wear something so dangerous (not to mention make a decision to wear it) but amalgam of 800 versions rocks pink ones (and spins).
And Eleanor clearly appreciates this new, confident Chidi. One that has no problem telling her he loves her. Too bad the end of humanity is getting in their way of consummating this.
I kind of want to hear Tahani’s story too because it taught her compromise is always possible. At least on TV shows.
Jason’s reason for not cancelling Earth was perfect even if not convincing for the Judge but the best was him realising Michael is not taking it serious and making him do it. Also everyone’s of Jason’s stories was perfect even tough that was not the trolley problem we were expecting.
Every argument Janet made to stop Gen - from Emperor Kid Rock to showing her the light. But the moment Timothy Olyphant showed up was the bestest. It was the most perfectly set up stunt guest appearance and even better he wasn’t there just to smile at Gen and look pretty. He asked all the relevant questions. Our Janet really got good at making people.
I loved visiting all the different Janet’s voids - from the beige nothing of Neutral Janet to Disco Janet dancefloor. And Bad Janet’s was so full of Easter Eggs - including that monster Chidi drew. But now I can’t get “Gonna erase the Earth” out of my head. I also love how Maya Rudolph says “Earth”.
I loved that Bad Janets always go with a fart. True to the end. I hope all of them got demarbelised at the end. Our Janet is back so should be all of them. Especially, the Bad Janet who started this rebellion. And they’ll need all the help they can get to implement Chidi’s idea.
#the good place#chidi anagonye#eleanor shellstrop#tahani al jamil#jason mendoza#michael#janet#judge gen#michael the architect#janet the ai#good janet#bad janet#neutral janet#disco janet#judge hydrogen#michael the good place#janet the good place#chidi x eleanor#tgp
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Hello! Love your blog! Was wondering if you could do a imagine where the slashers including both pennywise's find their female s/o frustrated with trying to get blood stains out of their cloths when doing laundry. Thank you!
Thank you! Hope you enjoy! (Sorry for the delay, this is the third time I’ve written this because of losing my work, so hopefully third time lucky?! I’ll include BJ, the Man and Freddy in the next ones x ) xx
MICHAEL
Michael found you in a rather compromising position, half in and half out of the tub, scrubbing clean his undershirt with frantic motions. The fact that you had your back to him and one thigh straddling the edge of the tub was rather amusing, and provided the perfect opportunity to approach. With his silent steps, Michael drifted behind you and waited patiently for you to notice his shadow. When you did, a shriek tore from your lips and you fell into the partially full tub, splashing soapy and slightly red water over the side. “Michael Myers!” You scolded, slipping trying to get out. He moved forwards quickly to stop you from falling, but you took him by surprise and manoeuvred so that he was the one to trip into the water. Lay on his chest and sopping wet, you smacked his chest and could swear you could feel him laughing, low rumbles from within him as he tried to suppress it. “This isn’t funny!” You huffed, cracking a grin. “You’re just a big jerk.”
JASON
Your silhouette by the lake came as a surprise to Jason, he’d thought you would be back in the cabin. Even more curious was what you were doing, which was clearly causing you some frustration. He edged warily closer to the water, announcing his presence so as to not startle you by taking purposefully loud steps. You jerked your head up and looked at him, unaware he had been nearby. He inched a little closer, enough to see what you were washing, and grimaced to see that it was in fact one of his shirts. It was probably his least torn shirt, but it had been soiled by blood recently and you had taken it upon yourself to clean it. Jason carefully stood behind you and grasped the back of your shirt, pulling you away from the water whilst being wary not to hurt you. You took the shirt with you that you were washing. “What’s wrong?” You murmured, cut off by the force of his tight hug. Nobody had taken such care to wash his clothes for him since his mother and seeing you do the same thing made him teary. He ignored that the half washed shirt was getting you both a bit damp, but you weren’t about to complain in the warmth of his arms.
BUBBA
The fact that you didn’t respond to his arrival made him concerned. Did you get lost? Did you get hurt? Did someone take you? He made quick work of covering all ground in the house, checking each room until he found you in the bathroom leaning over the tub. Sweat glistened from your skin as you struggled to get rid of the last of the bloody stains from a pair of your lover’s pants. Bubba let out a gentle noise of concern for you, he wasn’t used to someone doing such a selfless thing for him, especially not his favourite person. Hearing him, you pricked up and smiled in his direction. “It’s okay, Bubba, I’m almost done.” You sounded out of breath, despite your smile. He frowned and sank to his knees behind you, his large hands coming to rest on your shoulders. The very least he could do was ease the tension you held in your muscles from pouring over the laundry, and it was surprisingly as enjoyable for him as much as you.
PENNYWISE (original)
Admittedly, the sound of grunting attracted his attention. He just wanted to find you after a long day of harassing the town, but now he was more curious as to what you were doing. Humming a tune beneath his breath, he stopped short to find you over the sink scrubbing at the collar of one of his outfits. It had blood dripped across the white ruffles and he chuckled in amusement at your frustrated efforts. Immediately, you whipped around and fixed him with a poisonous look. “Don’t you dare laugh! You’re lucky I love you or I’d strangle you with this stupid thing!” You seethed between your teeth and he shut up rather quickly after that, mumbling a sheepish, “I love you, baby.”
PENNYWISE (recent)
“Whatcha got there?” His playful tone drifted into your ears. You stiffened, surprised by his arrival but frustrated at your task, head turning slowly in his direction. “Look familiar?” You lifted his favourite outfit (seeing as he was currently clad in a substitute) and he cringed. “Oh.” He laughed nervously, eyeing the blood stains soaked everywhere. “Yes. Oh.” You repeated calmly and he flinched. It was worse when you were quiet, he knew he was in for it. Wasting no time, he slid his arms around your waist and cooed in your ear. “You know I love you, huh?” His slow smile appeared as he felt your muscles relaxing. “I know a couple of tricks for getting blood out, I’ll show you, it’ll be fun, Y/N!” His enthusiasm broke you down, you smiled and shook your head. “Fine.”
SWEENEY
The morning sun warmed his face. Albeit a very thin ray of sunlight in such a dreary town, it was enough to stir him from slumber. His arms reached out for you and met nothing but cold sheets. Sweeney shot up in bed, his dark eyes searching the dim morning light for you with his heart pounding in his ears. “Y/N?” His voice was thick, hoarse from sleep and concern. You responded quickly to his call. “I’m here, it’s okay.” Your tone soothed his worries, but he got up all the same and made towards you in the opposite corner of the room. You sat on a stool over a bucket of lukewarm water, one of his shirts clutched in your hands. Judging from the rapid rise and fall of your shoulders, you’d been cleaning that particularly stained garment for at least an hour. Sweeney frowned. He wasn’t accustomed to being cared for, but most of all he wasn’t happy that you were getting tired over something you didn’t have to do. He reached out and gripped your wrists with his own hands, pulling you to your feet. His lips pressed to the warm skin of your forehead. “Come back to bed, I wasn’t ready to let you go, love.” He murmured in barely more than a whisper, already walking backwards and luring you with him towards the bed.
PATRICK
To see you doing laundry was a bit strange for Patrick. He wasn’t used to living with someone he loved, especially not seeing them do domestic things with/for him. Perhaps that was why, when he noticed his white shirt splattered in red and your panting as you struggled to scrub it clean, he approached more gingerly than usual. “Ammonia is good for getting blood out of clothing.” He suggested, his hands in his pockets. “I have some in the cupboard.” Patrick gestured next to you with an incline of his head. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t make this a regular thing, Bateman.” Your tone held a playful warning as you reached for the product. Patrick grinned, placing his hand over his heart. “Anything for my heart’s desire.” His tone was a purr.
#michael myers#halloween#bubba sawyer#texas chainsaw massacre#leatherface#jason voorhees#friday 13th#pennywise#it#stephen king#pennywise the dancing clown#sweeney todd#tim burton#demon of fleet street#patrick bateman#american psycho#horror#slasher#imagine#reader insert#x reader#preference#fluff
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Are you still taking #sappyprompts? If so, could I get JayDick with "It's always been you"? PS I really love all the fics you've written for these so far. I'm mainly only a JayDick shipper, but your writing had me read some of your JayyTiim fics, so that's a big accomplishment! 😂
Hi :) Thanks for your prompt - I’m sorry it took me so long to get to it! And that’s a high compliment indeed ;) I have a tendency to multi-shipping, but I know not everyone is that way, and I appreciate people following anyway.Since you mentioned in your lovely comment on the other fic that you liked it, have some more early relationship JayDick:
Dick woke up feeling like he was still falling.
It was always like that—no matter what he dreamed about, who, the only way to escape was through freefall. His chest ached like he’d been trying to breathe in a cloud of wood shavings.
It took him way too long to find his bearings, remember where he’d fallen asleep.
Oh. He was at Jason’s.
No wonder he hadn’t recognized his surroundings at first. For the longest time, theirs hadn’t been the kind of relationship where your partner regularly slept over. In fact, they had fucked in pretty much every place Dick could think of that wasn’t a bed before they’d pulled their heads out of their asses and admitted that maybe this was something more.
Even with that, they had been careful. History wasn’t so easily forgotten. Neither was the present, for that matter.
But last night, Dick had whispered, “Stay,” Jason had replied, “Sure,” and now he was rubbing gentle circles on Dick’s back.
“I’m sorry,” Dick gasped.
“Nah, don’t be.” Jason’s hand didn’t stop.
“No, I—“
It was just—Dick had hoped they would have some time before Jason figured out what a fucking mess he was. What a failure, crying at night because he just wasn’t good enough. He just wanted a little more time with the man he was growing to love before he inevitably fucked it up again.
He didn’t know how to say any of that, so he didn’t. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Jason shrugged. “You didn’t. I wasn’t asleep.”
“Why not?” Dick, guiltily, was glad to shift the focus away from him.
Instead of replying, however, Jason moved his hand to Dick’s shoulder, gently pressing until he was lying down, back in Jason’s arms. “What did you dream about?”
Okay, Dick thought, that’s fair. He couldn’t expect Jason to be open up to him when he wasn’t willing to be vulnerable in turn. He could not bring himself to go into the exact images, though. Not now.
“All the people I couldn’t save. All the people I will…” fail. That helpless bitterness was rising in his throat again.
Jason was silent for a long time, and when he made his own confession, it wasn’t what Dick expected. “You saved me.”
“No. I didn’t.” The dream had been another stark reminder.
There was a gentle hit to his shoulder, though Jason made up for it by pulling him closer right after. “How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that? We talk a lot of Batman representing fear and justice.” While Jason’s voice took on a slightly sardonic note at that last word, it changed back to earnest right away. “But Nightwing? He stands for hope. That’s what he’s giving us.”
They both let that sink in. Then Jason added, almost shyly: “Dick Grayson, too.”
It was too much. Dick hid his face in Jason’s neck, overwhelmed, and just tried to breathe. The hands on his back were starting up their slow touches again, but Jason didn’t stop talking: “I remember… you. As Robin, as a kid, and as an adult, with the Titans. That feeling I got then… it never went away.”
A kiss to Dick’s hair.
“It’s always been you for me.”
“Thank you,” Dick whispered, “Thank you.”
He didn’t know if he would be able to fall asleep again tonight. At a guess, neither would Jason. But even with all that—even if Jason was not willing to compromise on his campaign; even if Dick was still tempted to run far away the next morning to avoid failing—it felt like they had built a fragile trust of their own that night.
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via http://resonanteye.net/originals-will-be-for-sale-nov-15/
Originals will be for sale, Nov 15
Two are spoken for.
All the local galleries are full of artists that they were showing last year, my kickstarter to get full scale prints made did not get funded (really bad timing). I’ll eventually be releasing a small art book containing all of these, I hope. I had wanted to show them as a group but I do not think I’ll be able to do that. so,
here are the originals I’ll be selling. There will be a second post with purchase links on the day, and you’ll be able to message me to purchase as well. Full sized prints will eventually be available but I don’t have a date for that.
Paintings from Quarantine, a series, 2020
all are watercolor paintings. charging by size and scope…
12×16″ are 150$
18×24″ are 500$
22×30″ are 900$
36×50″ are 1500$
shipping to US/CAN included: all will be rolled for shipping, unframed. I’ll ship any country, but will have to calculate for anywhere but US/CAN. rush shipping on request at cost.
no. 1 – Milan
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Dr. Marcelo Natali
1963-3/25/20
“We certainly weren’t prepared to face such a situation. Especially those of our generation, that of the post-antibiotic era, who grew up thinking that a pill against the disease was enough.”
no. 2 – Northwestern United States
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Dr. Stephen M. Schwartz
(January 1, 1942 – March 17, 2020)
“There is no way to summarize a person as complex as Steve, but I’ll say this: I have never met a person with a finer mind, a greater passion for ideas, or who had a greater love for science,” Dr. Chuck Murry
“This beer virus I call it — they call it a coronavirus, I call it a beer virus — how do you like that?” Rep. Don Young
no. 3 – Iran
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Dr. Shirin Rouhani
(unknown- 3/19/20)
“She treated patients at Masih Daneshvari Hospital in Tehran while receiving IV therapy, because there were not enough doctors. Hospitals are faced with a lack of protective gear including medical gowns, N95 masks, gloves, and disinfectants.” -Javad Tavakoli
” Tell medècin sans frontiers that we do not need hospitals established by foreigners”. -Health Minister, Alireza Vahhabzadeh.
no. 17 (final) – New Orleans, LA, USA
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Ronald Lewis
7/17/1951-3/20/2020
“Right here in the Ninth Ward was where our people chased the American dream.”
~ Ronald Lewis
“The federal government rose to the challenge and this is a great success story and I think that that’s really what needs to be told.”
~Jared Kutchner
no. 4 – Rikers Island, New York
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated to Michael Tyson, 53
“Incredible anxiety and fear. You cannot implement effective social distancing in a room that sleeps forty men. You cannot implement effective social distancing when those forty men are using two or three sinks and one of them may be broken. You cannot implement effective social distancing when the staff interacts with all of them and has to touch all of them in the course of a day.
They know that better than I know that. So when I was talking to them, I was sort of feebly saying, “We want to try to encourage people to be even more diligent about hand-washing, etc., etc.” They were, like, “O.K., we don’t have our own cleaning supplies.” They can’t wipe down their own surfaces. They have to wait for someone to come in and do that for them.”
“The largest category of people in city jails are those awaiting trial — people who have not been charged but not convicted. In the ordinary course of events, getting someone in this position out of jail requires an application made in court before a judge.”
-Dr. Bedard
New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo announced on Monday that the state had found a way to counteract price gouging on hand sanitizer amid the COVID-19 outbreak: by deploying cheap prison labor. Incarcerated people will be producing the disinfectant… “This is a superior product to products now on the market,” Cuomo said in a briefing, adding that the state’s sanitizer has a “very nice floral bouquet” that includes hints of lilac, tulip, and hydrangea.
no. 5 – Los Angeles, Mercy
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Francisco Garcia
“There’s a very limited supply, it’s a scary situation. Just going to work, driving to work, you’re worried you’re going to get something. It’s changing by the hour and by the day.” S. Beltran, ER nurse .
“This week the State Department has facilitated the transportation of nearly 17.8 tons of donated medical supplies to the Chinese people, including masks, gowns, gauze, respirators, and other vital materials.” -Mike Pompeo, Feb 7 2020
no. 6 – Wuhan
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Dr. Li Wenliang
(1986-2/7/2020)
“I think there should be more than one voice in a healthy society, and I don’t approve of using public power for excessive interference.” -Dr. Li Wenliang
“Now, the Democrats are politicising the coronavirus… this is their new hoax.” -Donald Trump
“Trump has botched the response to coronavirus pandemic…classifying deliberations makes it harder for health experts in government without security clearances to be in key meetings. This is unprecedented, unnecessary, and damages our ability to respond to the pandemic.”
-Gregg Gonsalves, a Yale epidemiologist
“You, Dr. Li Wenliang, have been making false comments on the Internet, and will sign a letter of admonishment.”
-Police from the Wuhan Public Security Bureau, Jan 3 2020
no. 7 – Madrid
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Dr. Isabel Munoz
( 1961 -3/24/2020)
“Her only obsession was not to infect anybody.” -Jesus Munoz
“Even if we all get sick, I’d rather die than kill the country.” -Glenn Beck
no. 8 – Johannesburg
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Simon
(unknown)
“They put us here and now we are close to one another. This is why we will be vulnerable to catching Corona. Our government has failed us,” Simon, homeless man moved by police to stadium from the street.
“The lockdown has caused problems, but it is a necessary thing that South Africa had to do,” -Maider Mavi, Mozambique Health Ministry. “Anyone showing symptoms who goes to a state hospital will have their COVID-19 test for free.”
“The goal here is to keep Covid out of this community,” says Sasha Lalla, a leader at COSUP, a city-supported substance abuse program.
“I think then we will be seeing a situation where people with compromised immune systems are not just at risk of Covid-19, they are at risk of death. We have a responsibility to keep our most vulnerable safe,” he said. “One case here, it would be like wildfire.”
no. 9 – New York City
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Father Antonio Checo
May 6, 1952-April 1, 2020
“Words cannot describe the sadness and hurt as well as the frustrations that this pandemic has brought about to our daily lives here and across the city…Effective today, all Episcopal churches have been ordered closed until May 17, 2020…we as your clergy are still accessible via phone as your pastors in these times. And since we cannot gather as a community until May, we want to begin to periodically send you the weekly bible readings as that you can use for private prayer worship.
…take an hour each day to pray these prayers remembering those who have died because of this pandemic, as well as those who are sick and those “essential” workers on the frontlines who ensure we as citizens have access to life sustaining resources for day to day living. We ask for the blessing of peace and hope to you all, and that all are safe in this time of uncertainty and anxiety.”
Rev. Antonio Checo and Rev. Jason Moskal, St. Mark’s Episcopal Church
“We brought in 13 machines that basically kill every virus in the place, and uh, if somebody walks through the door it’s like, it kills everything on them. If they sneeze, it shoots it down at like 100 mph. It’ll neutralize it in split seconds. We have the most sterile building in, I don’t know, all of America.”
-Rodney Howard-Browne, River Tampa Bay Megachurch
no. 10 – Tokyo
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for Ken Shimura
(20 February 1950 – 29 March 2020)
“I never feared getting an infection myself,” he said, because he knows “how infection control should be done.” But aboard the Diamond Princess, “I was so scared of getting COVID-19.”
“The cruise ship was completely inadequate in terms of the infection control.”
-Kentaro Iwata, who has dealt with infectious outbreaks, including Ebola, cholera and SARS, for more than 20 years.
“I’m choosing not to do it.” -donald trump, on masks
no. 12 – Washington, DC
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Rabbi Romi Cohn
Holocaust survivor
March 10, 1929-March 24, 2020
“The crisis caused by the coronavirus may be the time to consider a universal basic wage.”
-Pope Francis
“God will shield us from all harm and sickness. We are not afraid. We are called by God to stand against the Antichrist creeping into America’s borders.”
-Tony Spell3
no. 15 – Paris
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Dr. John F. Murray
pulmonologist
June 8, 1927 – March 24, 2020
“In all his dealings in the ICU, John treated every person with respect and held them to high standards, whether it was the intern just starting in the ICU or the fellow who was a much more senior trainee, or the nurses or the therapists. Everybody had something to offer and was treated as a member of this team.”
-Courtney Broaddus
“You have to do what’s best for your business.”
-Wayne Hoffman
“Audience Participation, London”
22×30″, watercolor
Houston has its Time
22×30″, watercolor
Calling in the Forces, Sunflowers
22×30″ watercolor
Skating in New York City
watercolor, 22×30″
The Observers (Germany) watercolor on arches, 12×16″
no. 13 – Atlanta
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Rushia Johnson Stephens
music teacher
1954-2020
“Given our population density, high rate of asthma, and various underlying health conditions found within our city’s populations, I am issuing a Stay at Home Order for Atlantans.”
-Mayor Keisha Lance Bottoms
“adding a public option to Obamacare is the best way to lower costs and cover everyone. 160 million people like their private insurance.”
-Joe Biden
SOLD:
no. 11 – The Bronx
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Rakkhon Kim, a member of Branch 36 in New York City
1970-March 25,2020
“It is not an exaggeration to say that our men and women in the Postal Service, who were already performing one of the most important jobs in America, are now literally putting their own lives on the line to deliver the food, medicine, and essential supplies that hundreds of millions of Americans depend on every single day during this pandemic.”
-Senator Bernard Sanders
“It’s been losing billions of dollars a year for many, many years… this is the new one, I’m now the demise of the Postal Service. I’ll tell you who’s the demise of the Postal Service, are these internet companies that give their stuff to the Postal Service…They drop everything in the post office and they say, ‘You deliver it.’ “
-president Donald Trump
no. 14 – Lansing
(quarantine paintings, 2020)
watercolor, oil, gesso on arches paper, 18×24″
dedicated for
Lisa Ewald
nurse
1966-2020
“COVID-19 has impacted the lives of so many citizens throughout the state of Michigan, and even more pronounced in the city of Detroit, as we are the fastest growing city nationally with casualties related to this deadly disease.”
-Rep. Sherry Gay-Dagnogo
“LIBERATE MICHIGAN!”
-Donald Trump
#2020 art#abstract paintings#art#art for sale#artists#artists during pandemic#inland northwest#large watercolor#morbid art#painting#paintings#paintings from Quarantine#pandemic art#spokane artists#Spokane arts#starving artists#artwork#events#female tattoo artist pacific northwest#health and safety#horror art#macabre#original art#painting series#quarantine paintings#stuff for sale#watercolor
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bodyguard au with jason maybe?
A/N: HI THERE. ajdas i haven’t written in a long time so pls be nice to me even if this doesn’t make any sense huhu. thanks for requesting, love!
jason’s not beside you when you wake up and judging by how cool the other side of the bed is, he hasn’t been for a while. you’re certain that’s where he had been after what had happened last night, after all the comforting that you claimed to need - pouting, all dewy eyes and bats of heavy, curled eyelashes, pleading for him to make you feel better.
truth be told, assassination attempts on the lives of you and your family were nothing new at this point. but you would play the damsel-in-distress card all the time if it meant that he would always take you to bed and have his way with you afterwards to take your mind off of the whole ordeal. he has it figured out, you’re sure, because you’ve never really been much of an actress. not with him, at least. yet, he still kisses your whines and worries away, still presses his lips over your bare skin as he undresses you, still fucks you the way you tell him to, the way you want him to.
you find him trying to fit all of himself into the two-seater sofa just off to the side of the room. he’s on his stomach with a pillow cradled close to his face, his lower half lazily covered by thin white sheets, the gentlest brushes of sunlight against the dips and curves of his broad shoulders and muscled back. the steady rise and fall of his form makes you think that he might still be asleep but you know better than to assume that he slept much at all after being on such high alert.
but things like this happen frequently enough that you’re not so jostled by it any more. protocol usually demands the both of you to get as far away as possible and to lay low for a while so jason had checked the both of you into a discreet little motel a while away from your home. the previously decently-clean room is now in quite a bit of a state: a deck of cards laid in a haphazard heap from an attempt to amuse yourself, half empty bottles and unfinished snacks took up space on the coffee table not too far from the couch, pieces of clothing were scattered around the room - your scanty little emerald green dress, the pieces of the suit that jason had been wearing. you maneuver around all of it as you make your way to him.
he’s awake, just about, and you realise this when he doesn’t flinch as you settle at the very edge of the couch. you slide your fingers up his exposed back, slowly and gently trailing your fingertips with a petal-like softness across the expanse of skin. he exhales in return. it’s a stark difference from how he had been last night, when your safety had been compromised, when he’d been fuming, chest puffed and teeth gritted, weapon drawn as he tried to get you to safety. there’s a calmness about him now that causes an all too familiar swell of adoration inside of you.
unable to resist any further, you duck down to press a kiss on his shoulder. one on the middle of his back. another in the middle of the two points. your fingers settle on the well-defined line of his spine, thumb tracing one of the many scars that littered his skin. you would’ve pressed your lips to every single one, much like you’ve done before, if you could. but you would much prefer to do it when all of this was over and done with, so you could focus all your attention on him instead.
“you could’ve stayed in the bed with me,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek into his shoulder, enjoying the gentle warmth that he radiated. he would never understand, you think, the amount of comfort he brought you. somedays, even you didn’t understand it.
“i wouldn’t have been able to leave,” you hear jason reply, a slight tinge of amusement in his husky voice.
you chuckle, heart as light as a bird feather cradled in soft wisps of wind, “you’re right. i would have never let you.”
he turns around then, slow, careful, deliberate in the mornings. he stretches out as he moves, a quiet groan leaving his lips. he’s a vision to remember like this: a playful curl to his lips, green eyes filled with mirth, dark hair and the little curl of white mussed up lovingly. he takes his time to sit up and the sheets pool around his lower half when he does, baring his toned chest and abdomen. it takes a lot from you to not stare, to not run your fingers across the planes of his body, to not retrace the marks that you’d left last night and he knows the fact well enough.
“your father wouldn’t be too happy about that,” he quips afterwards, voice still low and hoarse. you suppose that he would be correct in his assumption. your father would be furious if he found out about all the things that you’ve been doing with your bodyguard behind his back, with the man that he has trusted the safety and wellbeing of his beloved daughter to. oh, the fit that your father would absolutely throw. it would make for quite the amusing show, to be quite honest.
but jason says this after he lets you slide your way into his lap, after his fingers have cupped the curves of your hips, after he lets you take his breath away with kisses. after everything that happened last night and all the nights before, all the stolen moments, and all the kisses traded in the shadows and all the sneaking away on supposed business trips.
he says it callously but casually.
you huff out a small chuckle. your fingers curl loosely around the hair at the base of his neck, as his head tilts slightly to meet your eyes, his lips a breath away from yours. when you speak, your lips brush against his, “i don’t care what he thinks.”
he snorts, pressing a kiss on the corner of your lips afterwards. you loved your father dearly but sometimes, he was…aggravating. sometimes, it made you wonder if you could do better if you were in his position. a stray thought strikes you, then and there.
“tell me something,“ you purr, pulling away but settling your arms around his neck.
he raises an eyebrow, "what?”
“if you had to choose,” you begin. he’s worked for you - has been with you, has been by your side - for a long time. but he’d been your father’s employee first. and they’d worked incredibly well together. terrifyingly so. your father trusted jason, which is why he’s even your bodyguard in the first place. but knowing this. knowing jason’s shared history with your father. knowing the thunderous rolls and violent crashes that was jason’s emotions for you. you continue, “if i asked you to choose between me and my father. who would you pick?”
his eyes are steely but there’s a glint of amusement, the corners of his lips twitching. it’s a look that sparks something in the pit of your stomach, small tendrils of warmth shooting up your abdomen. he replies after a small moment of consideration, “my duty is to protect you. my loyalty lies with you.”
“you would protect me from anything?” you ask, a teasing lilt to your voice.
“of course.”
you laugh.
“from my father too?” you tilt your head, lips curled into a wicked smile.
“you should know by now,” he pulls you into a kiss. a kiss of all kisses. warmth and passion and adoration. when you pull away, he wears a smirk on his face, charming and boyish, “i’d do just about anything for you.”
#jason todd#jason todd imagines#jason todd headcanons#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood imagine#red hood x reader#jason todd x you#red hood x you#red hood x y/n#jason todd x y/n#batboys#dc imagines#batfam#batfamily#batfam imagines#batfamily imagines#batboys x reader#batboys imagines#batfam x reader#batfamily x reader
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The Not-So-Amazing Mary Jane Part 7: MJ blindly trusts Beck (even though she wouldn’t!)
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Master Post
This post will be the first of maaaaaaany where I’ll be unpacking the problems prevalent in the status quo presented to us in at the end of AMJ #1.
My intent is to thoroughly explore these problems in this and consequent posts before moving onto issue #2. By doing this I (and others so inclined) can try to bear them in mind as prevailing problems with every issue until such as a time as they are addressed.
In future posts like this (at least until we get to AMJ #2) I will try to dispense with the preamble and get right down to business.
But for now I should start by clearly defining what exactly the premise presented in AMJ #1 even is.
The premise as I see it is as follows:
Mary Jane, out of sympathy for him and interest in the project, is making a movie with Mysterio. A Mysterio who has disguised himself as a respected film director and hired former felons and current super villains as part of his crew. He and MJ maintain Beck’s secret from everyone (which includes Peter but we’ll get there in another post).
In this instalment I will be addressing why MJ’s trust of Beck and failure to verify his claims is nonsensical.
As touched on in our coverage of AMJ #1, Mary Jane believes Beck’s sob story and ultimately agrees to work with him in spite of his crimes and the presence of active villains. Williams writes her genuinely sympathetic and interested in the film project, buying what Beck is saying and lacking any suspicion beyond that.
The most we get is MJ (arguably) noticing Beck’s abuse of one his staff and presumably bearing it in mind for future dealings with him.
Now, MJ is great at reading people and is very aware she possesses that skill. Between her upbringing moving around the country, her profession in acting and modelling (which puts many people, in particular young women, in potentially vulnerable positions) and her experience dating and living with a superhero, it’s an essential skill and one she’s honed. You could call it her personal brand of spider-sense.
If MJ’s Spidey sense were registering honesty from someone then it’d be crucial in her decision to ultimately believe them and judge their threat level.
These pages though get muddy because Beck is mixing the truth and deception. Technically everything he is saying is true so MJ would likely be picking that up. But he didn’t actually need MJ to be in the movie so he was lying about that and more poignantly he is omitting the fact this movie plays into Kindred’s wider schemes.
Is MJ’s failure to register deception from Beck a mistake? Is Williams dropping the ball here?
Actually no.
Mary Jane is a good read of people, but she is absolutely not flawless in this regard. There have been times she’s misread Peter and indeed been fooled by other people. Five key examples come to mind and we’re going to be starting with the most debatable ones.
Firstly there was Jason Jerome a fellow actor who offered friendship and support when MJ began working on the soap opera Secret Hospital. Jason was a harassing creep intent upon seducing Mary Jane, regarding her marital status as challenge that’d make his ‘conquest’ all the sweeter. I go into much more detail about Jason’s encounters with MJ in this post.
I will concede that it can definitely be argued that MJ was out of character or emotionally vulnerable during the course of this subplot so it doesn’t necessarily prove anything. Nevertheless, in MJ’s canonical history she was fooled by a fellow (and more experienced) actor than herself.
Secondly there was Aunt May’s death in ASM #400. Aunt May was impersonated by a dying actress who’d been genetically altered to look like and register as her. For around a year everyone (including MJ) believed their beloved May to be dead once more proving how MJ’s ability to read people isn’t flawless. Again though there is a lot of stuff that can be contested with this example, the most significant being that as originally written the intent was that this was the actual Aunt May, not an imposter.
However even accepting the retcon one could argue that due to her pregnancy, May’s miraculous recovery from a coma and the general stress of the Clone Saga up until that point Mary Jane’s ‘Spidey sense’ was not going to be working properly. However, canonically this is once again an example of a fellow (and likely more experienced) actress deceiving MJ.
My other examples don’t have nearly as much leeway.
Perhaps the most significant is Jonathan Caesar, the Parkers’ landlord who was obsessed with ‘owning’ Mary Jane. You can imagine what that would’ve entailed. He abducted MJ and held her prisoner for a little while. The thing is initially MJ found the guy charming and the idea he was a threat never crossed her mind.
Unlike the above two examples there weren’t any obvious extenuating circumstances that I can recall to excuse MJ’s faux pas. She was just genuinely fooled by him.
Then we have her friend Lorraine whom you might recall from part 4 of this essay series. As mentioned there, Lorraine was an old friend of MJ’s who’d developed a cocaine problem. MJ sought to help her and Lorraine seemed willing to be helped. But when MJ left her alone for a little while Lorraine almost immediately snuck out to find her next hit.
Models are not actresses strictly speaking. But to my limited knowledge their profession must involve some degree of adopting a false persona. Even if we were to say otherwise, Lorraine was clearly capable of duping Mary Jane.
Finally, for an extended period of time the Chameleon fooled MJ and most everyone else when he impersonated J. Jonah Jameson in Web #52.
Like Beck, Chameleon made a whole career out of fooling people and Beck could be argued to be even better at it than Chammy.
So the idea that someone could fool MJ is definitely possible in a lot of stories.
But we shouldn’t take MJ’s trust as a sign that she is in the right. It’s so often tempting to side with the protagonist’s POV precisely because they are the protagonist. If MJ trusts Mysterio she must feel he isn’t dangerous and isn’t that bad really right?
But the possibility that she can be wrong is on the table based upon her history and (whilst I personally doubt Williams intended it this way) that is what is happening here big time.
Now I am not suggesting that MJ should second-guess every read of people she makes nor that the above examples should be sore spots in her mind. But collectively they would enshrine to Mary Jane herself that she shouldn’t just presume her immediate reads of people are accurate, and that would go even more so for professional actors.
In this issue MJ hasn’t got any extenuating circumstances to compromise her judgement. She isn’t in the midst of an emotionally turbulent time in her life. She isn’t being blinded my friendship, loneliness or familial love. She also hasn’t had much time to observe or get to know Beck up close and personal, this exchange being the longest amount of time they’ve ever spoken to one another.
But as I spent far too much time pointing out in parts 3-5, MJ is very aware of Mysterio’s skills, his typical tactics and the horrible things he has done. She knows he is a career criminal and a dangerous/nasty one at that. And she knows that he is an incredibly accomplished and experienced manipulator/deceiver/actor, almost definitely more experienced than her self. And this is to say nothing of the times he’s personally hurt her or the people she cares about.
Realistically upon learning of Beck’s involvement she should somehow start to work against him and most definitely not trust him!
Even exempting the personal pain he’s been complicit in visiting upon Mary Jane and/or her loved ones, she knows enough about him to be suspicious.
In knowing his skillset and M.O. Mary Jane should either not trust him at all or at the very least not simply not take everything he says at face value. She would be savvy enough to recognize whatever her ‘radar’ is reading. At best the odds are 50/50 that her radar is off. And those odds exist precisely because making you believe things that aren’t real is the entire conceit of Beck’s alter ego.
But wait, there’s more!
Beck basically admitted to:
Stealing a man’s identity
Wasting over a year of his life working on a project that doesn’t actually exist (in a location notorious for unaccounted for landmines btw)
Using that to con people into giving him their money
Using that money to make a movie which means he’s gambling with their money without their consent and potentially gambling with the public image of the film studio, the crew and the man he’s impersonating if the film gets a bad reception or financially flops
He’s doing all this off the back of what an extremely risky movie to make in the first place. Imagine if an empathetic and unapologetic movie about the life of George Zimmerman came out?
Said movie is a vanity project explicitly about himself
He’s using current super villains on the crew. If you are a current super villain then by definition you are not out on parole, you aren’t reformed and you are still wanted by the law.
And Mary Jane…goes along with this. Lampshading the fact that it’s insane for her to do that doesn’t excuse the extreme mischaracterization of doing that in the first place.
At the very least she should run a check online or with her various contacts in the super hero community to see if he’s actually dying. Remember from MJ’s POV Beck has full on faked his own death at least twice. She has no hard evidence for this whatsoever beyond the word of a man who is notoriously duplicitous.
Now to play Devil’s advocate we could argue that MJ believes Beck is out of jail legally. He might’ve served his time, been let out early for good behaviour or precisely because he is dying. Or perhaps he had legal help that weaselled him out of being locked up.
However this angle of interpretation just doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.
For starters given his very long history of very serious crimes (even excluding the ones MJ is unaware of) it’d be common sense to presume that Beck would be serving time barring extenuating circumstances. Common sense would then lead anybody to try and confirm if any extenuating circumstances exist. This could prove impossible because how accessible records on costumed criminals are to the public is unclear. But anyone with a phone or internet access could at least try.
MJ has far more than mere common sense and she’s got far more than a phone and internet access. And yet there isn’t even a hint that she makes even a lazy attempt at confirming Beck’s story.
Now let’s pretend MJ forgot every single encounter with Mysterio she knows about before Nick Spencer’s run. No faking Aunt May’s death. No helping Doc Ock in ‘Ends of the Earth’. Nothing from ‘Guardian Devil’. None of the stuff we covered in parts 3-5.
Mary Jane would still realistically be fully aware Beck committed a HUGE crime mere months ago that involved the Avengers (plus other heroes) that was also the inciting incident that reconciled her with the love of her life.
This alone should be enough for her to not so quickly or blindly trust Beck! Even if she was unaware of the legal fallout of that event it was still an event that endangered lots of innocent people and heroes. Chiefly it endangered the love of her life! MJ trusts the guy whose actions nearly killed the man she loves most in the world!
Speaking of Peter by the way, he’s a super hero who’s regularly tangled with this guy.*
She has also worked for, is an acquaintance of or personal friends with:
Tony Stark/Iron Man
Riri Williams/Ironheart
The main roster of the Fantastic Four
Several big name members of the Avengers (including Captain America and Jessica Drew)
The Avengers faithful butler Jarvis
Members of a support group comprised of the loved ones of super heroes (see ASM v5 #8-10)
Carlie Cooper, a forensics scientist who has worked for the police
She has also encountered shape shifters, impersonators, clones and body swaps in the last 10 years of her life, so a certain degree of safety precautions would be requisite for her.
Collectively this means MJ would not simply presume Beck is walking free legally and more importantly could and would check up on that. It wouldn’t be hard. She wouldn’t even have to tell Peter if for some reason she was worried about him knowing; we’ll dive a lot more into this in a much later instalment.
Her research would then naturally turn up the fact that Beck clearly escaped from prison. Even if the details of Beck’s trial or consequent legal proceedings (like being paroled or cutting a deal) weren’t public knowledge Mary Jane’s contacts would be able to inform her of what would’ve happened. Thus she’d know Beck was legally declared insane and sent to Ravencroft but not legally released.
Similarly even if the details of Mysterio’s ‘death’ in Ravencroft weren’t publically known MJ would have the means of learning that and thus confirm that Beck had faked his death once again; (see ASM v5 #24-25). This would then open up the possibility to MJ that the body the authorities have belongs to someone else.
From MJ’s point of view, at best that’s macabre and unethical. At worst it could mean Beck caused someone’s death. MJ is clearly aware that Mysterio might be capable of such a thing because she is almost immediately concerned Beck has done something bad to the real Cage McKnight!
Now I’m not saying MJ is going along with Beck even knowing he probably killed his psychiatrist. But what I am saying is that it’s utterly out of character for MJ (or pretty much any character) to not check this stuff!
Maybe Williams will address all this, but reading AMJ #1 it seems far more likely she’s not bothered to consider the implications of the direction she has taken. Or worse, she has but is ignoring them because she wants to tell the story she wants no matter what.
The point is moot though because MJ wouldn’t give Beck the benefit of the doubt in the first place.
There is more to be said regarding MJ’s trust issues in the story, but I think I’ll save that for next time.
*And typically won through a highly unique danger sense that MJ lacks, a sense that mitigates Beck’s abilities.
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Master Post
#Amazing Mary Jane#mjwatsonedit#Mary Jane Watson Parker#mary jane watson#MJ Watson#Mysterio#Quentin Beck#Peter Parker#spider-man#Leah Williams
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Twister | DAVID DOBRIK
Description: You and David's competitiveness along with Carly and Erin's meddling leads to a game of twister with interesting results.
Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day hoes this is my gift to yall. I have school in like 7 hours but whatever who need sleep lmao. As always let me know what you think :)
Word Count: 2029
You blamed no one but yourself for getting you into your current predicament. It was your competitiveness, always your competitiveness. It’s been getting you into trouble for as long as you could remember.
It was the reason you had a scar on your forehead, were banned from this one bar downtown, and became good friends with an unruly group of Viners turned Youtubers.
You met them at a party at USC because you and a boy you’d find out later was Todd ended up in some crazy drinking competition that involved a blindfold and a paintball gun. Obviously David caught wind of this and came rushing in from the next room over at the party and filmed it for his vlog.
You too were similar in a sense that you were both crazy determined and willing to do almost anything to get what you wanted.
And what you both craved more than anything else in the world, besides maybe each other, was success.
And that’s how you ended up where you were now, limbs entangled with David’s while one hand reached over his head to keep in contact with the red circle. Your faces were impossibly close, and you could feel his breath fan across your skin along with the swelling of his chest against yours at it rose and fell.
All in the name of winning a dumb game of Twister.
It had started as a competition between you and Zane. It was short lived, but a competition none the less. Then Heath wanted to try, then Scott, then Carly, then Natalie, until everyone had gone against you and lost.
All except one. David. The boy whose laugh and smile had been plaguing your mind longer than you cared to admit to anyone.
He was in his room editing while you and the others were playing out in his living room. He’d somehow been able to focus despite all the screaming, cheering, and laughter; and appeared once you’d successfully defeated Todd, finished with his vlog for the night.
You high fived Erin rather aggressively as you stood up, basking in the applause and adrenaline that came with winning.
“What the hell are you guys doing?” David asked, raising an eyebrow at Todd who was standing up off the floor with a groan.
“Twister,” Zane said, turning his camera on him. “And it’s your turn.”
Everyone started shouting in approval while David shook his head. “I’ll pass.”
“Aw c’mon you have too. Everyone’s already gone.”
David snorted and scrunched his nose at the wrinkled Twister mat. “You want me to play some shitty game on the floor?”
“We can’t declare (Y/N) the champion of Twister until she’s defeated everyone,” Carly said like it was obvious.
He looked over at you, and your heart thumped loudly in your chest as his eyes met yours. “You’ve beaten everyone?”
For the sake of the camera you cracked your knuckles and cocked your head, smirking at David confidently. “And I’m about to add you to the list Dobrik.”
“I said I wasn’t playing.”
You crossed your arms over your chest and took a step closer. “Afraid you’re gonna lose?”
He and took a step forward, the corner of his lips tugging upwards into a relaxed smile. “You’re just begging for someone to put you in your place.”
“And you think you can handle that?” You threw your head back with a laugh and tucked some stray pieces of hair back behind your ear as you looked him and down pointedly. “You’re cute. I’d have you on your knees in a heartbeat.”
“You think about that image a lot?”
You scoffed and shook your head, cockiness coming of you in waves even though the way David’s eyes were boring into yours made goosebumps erupt along your arm. “Don’t flatter yourself, and stop avoiding the question. You playing or what?”
David pursed his lips and stared at you for a moment longer before saying, “Fine.”
“I call spinning!” Erin and Carly yelled simultaneously as everyone started cheering excitedly.
And five minutes later, you could see exactly why they wanted to call the colors. Carly and Erin stood by the floor of the mat, side by side, holding the spinner in a way so no one else could see what it read.
Everyone else in their chatter didn’t seem to notice how they would study you and David’s position carefully, whisper quietly to one another, spin the wheel and glance it at for a quick second, then smile mischievously and call something that never failed to bring you and David into a more compromising position.
They were doing this shit on purpose.
“(Y/N),” Carly said, not bothering to look at the spinner, “Left foot green.”
David’s face relaxes a bit, and his eyelashes glint against the sunlight as he blinks and makes eye contact with you. “Oh there’s no way-“
You twist your hips and shift your weight over to your right leg, and in one swift motion your left leg swings up and over David’s waist to straddle him, your toes just making contact with the required circle.
You smile at him triumphantly as your noses lightly brush together. “No way what?”
David was so close to you that you can feel the heat of his skin from where his shirt had ridden up against your thighs.
Carly and Erin spin again, and you can practically hear the thumping of your heart with each rotation it made. “David, right hand blue.”
You chuckle as a groan reverberates through his body and to yours because of your close proximity. “Might as well give up now Dave there’s no way you’re gonna manage that.”
You could tell he was thinking about throwing the match to get out of this situation. But like you, David was stubborn as hell, and really wanted to win.
With a determined glint to his eye and a clenched jaw, he wiggles his arm out from between you and it brushes against your chest. He strains to keep as much distance as possible between you as his position alters.
Your mouth parts and a shaky breath escapes. You unconsciously lick your lips to wet them, and David’s attention is immediately drawn to the action.
Your breath hitches in your throat mid inhale as you feel him falter slightly beneath you. Your muscles ache and you can feel beads of sweat begin to form along your hairline. It’s getting harder to keep your hand on the red circle above David’s head, the moistness of your palms making you need to readjust your grip more and more often.
You’d been at this game for the better part of an hour at this point because you’d gone against basically everyone in the vlog squad before this round with David. You were getting tired, and you didn’t think you could hang in there much longer. Meanwhile, David definitely had the stamina remaining to give you a run for your money.
But you didn’t want to lose. Losing wasn’t an option. It never was.
And it wasn’t for David either, you knew that. He wasn’t going to back down.
Your close proximity to David obviously had an effect on him. His breathing was shallower, his eyes darker, and his gaze darted to your lips at the slightest bit of movement. Heat was radiating off him where your skin touched, and since your chests were pressed against one another you could feel his heart’s rapid beating.
That meant he could probably feel yours do the same thing, but you tried not to focus on that too much.
A hasty plan began to form in your mind to secure victory, albeit, it wasn’t the best you’d come up with, but it’d get the job done.
You leaned your face closer to David’s ever so slightly so that your noses brushed together. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and before you could think about it too much you closed the remaining distance between your lips and kissed him.
His eyelashes brushed against your cheek as his eyes fluttered closed. His lips were lightly chapped yet soft as he tensed up and moved his head forward to kiss you back. Your one free hand cupped his cheek and pressed his face closer to yours, then moved its way up to thread its’ finger through his hair.
You tilted your head to deepen the kiss and moved your lips firmly against his, tugging gently in the end of his hair. His nose pressed against your cheek as he tilted his head and began to lose himself in the kiss, responding with just as much fervor.
You waited for a moment until you knew you had him, then nipped at his bottom lips with your teeth. David’s lips parted with a gasp and he dropped to the floor.
You caught yourself so you didn’t completely land on top of him, your forearms forming a cage around his head.
You grinned cheekily at his dazed expression and pink lips, sitting up straight and standing up. “I win.”
Your friends, well, their faces were priceless. They didn’t seem to know whether or not to cheer because you won the Twister championship or stand there both confused and shocked at what they’d just watched.
Carly and Erin were undoubtedly happy and pleased with themselves though, judging by the smug expressions on their faces.
You left shortly after that along with everyone else and went back to your apartment. It was getting late, and everyone had things to do like edit while Jason and David still had to record a Podcast.
It was well past dark and a few hours since you were dubbed the Queen of Twister when there was a knock at your door.
You wiped your hands nervously against your shirt as you got up to answer it. You couldn’t decide whether or not you wanted it to be David or not.
Once the adrenaline rush that came naturally with competition had worn off, you realized what you’d done was pretty stupid. Kissing David, your friend and the boy you liked, in front of all your friends and Zane’s camera just to win a game of Twister wasn’t the smartest idea.
You opened the door, and sure enough, it was him.
His hair was disheveled and his were crossed over his chest. “That wasn’t fair.”
You opened the door wider and stepped aside so David could come in. You closed the door behind you and turned around to face him, meeting his gaze with a raised eyebrow. “You came all the way over here just to tell me that?”
“No, I came all the way over here to get you back.”
You stepped backwards for every step he took forward until your back hit the door.
David took your face in his hands and crashed your lips against his, pressing himself against you while your arms wrapped around his back and up his shoulder blades.
Any sense of hesitation that was there during your first kiss was gone and he immediately tilted his head to deepen the kiss. He threaded his fingers through your hair then towards the back of your head so that his thumbs came to rest delicately on your cheeks.
You stood on your tip toes and arched your back into him, sighing blissfully into the kiss as you basked in the feeling of warmth enveloping you.
He nipped at your bottom lip like you’d done to him and in a cloudy haze of desire you didn’t hesitate for even a second to deepen the kiss further. Months of unresolved tension were released like water from a dam and it was teeth over lips over tongue and it was absolutely heavenly.
You had to pull apart for air eventually, as much as you hated to do so.
You blinked dazedly up at David, not able to think quite clearly as of yet.
His hair was an even bigger mess than before and his lips were swollen red. His eyes crinkled at the corners as a light smirk overcame his mouth, and seemingly rather pleased with himself David said only half-jokingly, “Now we’re even.”
#david dobrik#david dobrik x reader#David dobrik imagines#david dobrik imagine#off#fanfiction#vlog squad
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