#DC one day you will pay for your crimes!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 3 months

Text

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall.

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place.

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long.

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train.

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive.

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles.

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus.

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice.

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear.

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business.

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories.

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk.

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?”

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone?

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence.

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape.

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93.

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.”

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin.

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar.

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two.

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors.

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work?

That was sure to go over well.

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift.

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils.

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar.

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility.

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one.

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier.

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn.

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire.

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase.

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet.

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot.

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile.

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you.

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you.

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended.

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back.

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.”

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line.

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it.

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you. Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again.

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied.

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions.

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again.

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98 @squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @chrissymjstan @loves0phelia @kthomps914 @aysheashea @reidsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock @ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975 @yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @bewitchedmunson @foreveranexpatsposts @mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank @sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl @fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #lam

697 notes · View notes

glow-worms-are-believers · 10 months

Text

Fresh Lemonade: 50¢ (dp x dc)

Jason was seconds away from collapsing. He had been awake for a bit less than three days straight due to a particularly difficult case and he could now barely keep his eyes open. He was wearing civilian clothes as he dragged his body through the streets of Crime Alley, way too tired to attempt getting to his safe-house via rooftops. His barely-coherent thoughts all focused on how heavenly his bed was going to feel for the half second he’d be in it before he could finally fall unconscious. He turned to arrive on his street only to stop at the sight of a small and cutely decorated lemonade stand. Jason squinted, half-believing his mind was playing tricks on him because this was Crime Alley. One of the worst part of it in fact.

People who lived there were either hardened criminals or desperate and stuck. It was not the the kind of place that would encourage the existence of a lemonade stand. As Jason got closer to it, he could soon see a slip of a girl sitting on a little stool behind the counter. The vigilante stopped in front of the sign announcing the cost for one glass being 50 cents and looked at the girl curiously. As if sensing his gaze, she raised her head from the game she had been playing and gave him a beaming smile.

“Hi,” she chirped. “Would you like to buy some lemonade?”

“How long have you been here?” Jason asked, worried about her lack of fear of a stranger.

“You mean the stand?” She said before continuing smugly, “I just set it up. It’s pretty sweet right?”

“Kid,” the vigilante started, “this is Crime Alley, not Bristol. You need to stop or move your operation.”

“No way!” she protested. “It took me ages to get everything right, I’m not tearing it down now.”

“Where are your parents?” Jason asked as he resisted the urge to sigh.

The girl frowned as her eyes narrowed. “Either get a glass, or move along mister.”

Jason sighed before he walked a bit further as he got his phone out of his pocket. He was too tired to deal with this. One of his underling could do the fine job of keeping the kid from getting beat up.

As the dial tone sounded, Jason heard a voice coming from behind.

“Fresh lemonade, huh? Why don’t you give me a sample,” said a male voice.

“Sorry,” came the girl’s voice. “I don’t have cups for that. You have to buy one.”

“I don’t like the sound of that,” came the mocking voice of the customer and Jason sighed at the imminent confrontation. Maybe it would teach the girl some caution if nothing else. “Why don’t I just-”

The scream of pain had the vigilante snapping the phone shut and turning around in an instant, only to see an older teenager cradling his visibly-broken hand close to his chest as the girl tutted at him.

“No swiping,” she lectured. “If you want some you gotta pay for it fair and square.” The teenager looked at her hesitatingly with a tinge of fear in his eyes before he scampered off with a few curses.

Well.

Maybe sleep could wait a little while more.

With a smile, Jason walked back to the stand. “You know what, I changed my mind, get me a cup.”

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dani fenton #Look at this feral child learning how to act like a normal human #Isn’t she adorable #roxpox #roxpoxwrote

2K notes · View notes

creepling · 2 months

Text

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #ssktjl #ktjl #kill the justice league #arkhamverse #fanfic #smut

363 notes · View notes

veenus777 · 3 months

Text

◜Dad! Jason Headcanons ◞

┊ ᝰ﹕Characters : dad!jason todd x latino vigilant! Reader

┊ ᝰ﹕Summary: recently I saw a post from @super-marvel-dc here on Tumblr where she said her headcanons of Jason being a father of a big family, and it inspired me a lot! So I decided to share some of the crazy things that had been on my mind for a while about this. If you like this maybe it could become a series

(Link to the initial post by @super-marvel-dc, )

┊ ᝰ﹕Theme : nothing but fluffy and google translate english

- You and Jason had already been married for about two years, things were stable and happy for both of you, taking into account your busy vigilante lives.

- The first child to be adopted was Naomi, who was found when she was just 3 years old abandoned in the alley of crime, and since then you and Jason have had her as your daughter

- Shortly afterwards, things got complicated with a completely unplanned and surprising pregnancy, after all, after the incident, Jason thought he could not even have biological children,and nine months later you had twins Holden and Skyler

- Shortly after two years, a little boy named Austin had been rescued by the Gotham police after a major attack caused by the Black Mask, having arrested the culprit Jason felt the responsibility of taking the boy in

-And then came the twins Savannah and Aspen, who were adopted after a Wayne gala in support of Gotham Orphanage, the big surprise for everyone was Jason and Y/n adopted two of the children instead of Bruce

- After that came Hazel, a little girl who had been purposely abandoned at the mall by her mother.

- and then we had river, a boy from a troubled family who lived in the alley of crime, and with him little darcy who was protected by river while her parents were too busy spending all their money on drugs

- And that was how the simple routine maintained by two people over five years together, in less than three years multiplied, becoming a family of eleven people

- At first things were chaotic but over time a routine was established, Fridays were reserved for friends, Saturdays for meetings and Sundays for family.

- Jason despite initially being terrified of fatherhood and literally shaking with fear, things changed in a short time, this man read every book on pregnancy, fatherhood and positive parenting he could find, he watched vlogs and tips on YouTube and Instagram from mothers and fathers on how to care for and educate their children, and I say with conviction that he has become an incredible father and making it his personal mantra to become the father he wishes he had had

- because you have children of different ethnicities, you reserved one day a week with us. traditional cuisine dinner, holidays with foods typical of each place, you made sure your children knew about their respective cultures and origins

- As a Latina by blood and raised in a Latin neighborhood in Gotham, you made sure your children learned your native language (Portuguese or Spanish, you choose lol), in addition to obviously the house being always filled with cultural music and food

- Speaking of home, in a short time you had to exchange your beautiful industrial loft in the center of Gotham for a large farm-style house that was about 40 minutes from Gotham, after all, you refused to raise your children in the chaos that was that city. by the way, don't tell bruce but you and jason had to accept many jobs in addition to surveillance and batman's rules to be able to pay for everything, but for the comfort of your children it was worth it

- Since the family grew abruptly, visits to the mansion became less frequent, but you and the children still visited at least once a month, especially when you needed a free babysitter. It is worth mentioning that for a long time they will be the butt of jokes on family holidays due to the large number of children

- You keep the life of vigilantes away from the children's reality, they don't even know about their second identities because you feel better knowing that you are keeping them away from this world, despite this you both agree that you will bring the truth to light when they are old enough

- Despite not wanting anyone anywhere near a gun or robin uniform, they all know self-defense and some type of fight or sport.

- An additional thing is that Jason sees himself on the river a lot, especially when he was younger, and that's why he always tries to be a present for him.

-Meanwhile Austin is the little version of Dick which makes Jason wish for death many times while you just laugh at the whole situation finding it hilarious, and all of this gets worse after I give Austin gymnastics lessons which results in Jason taking his son away from him. you from the roof of the house after ending up stuck in one of the tiles.

.˚｡ 💋 .˚｡ 💌

#jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd #imagine #headcanons #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #dc comics #dcu #dc universe #batfam #red hood and the outlaws #x reader

163 notes · View notes

downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 8 months

Text

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Epilogue

The Way Back Home (Spencer Reid x Reader) - Epilogue Reader Insert: she/her pronouns Word Count: 3707 Warnings: major angst, major fluff, mentions of murder, graphic descriptions of dead bodies, crime scenes, near-death experiences, slow-burnish romance, death, canon violence, rape, swearing, guns, knives, prostitution, canon cuteness of the team. Spoilers: Maeve's death, mentions of previous cases or canon events from seasons 1-10.

Spencer and you have an unspoken connection with one another. Nothing has ever happened between you two, especially since everything went down with Maeve, but your love has grown and overcome and is now clear as day to everyone. However, just when Spencer builds up enough courage to ask you out officially, you're requested on an undercover mission that halts your budding relationship in its tracks.

Months go by without a word from you until bodies of prostitutes start showing up in New York and the BAU is brought in to help. Spencer and you finally reunite as both your cases collide, but your lives and your love are both on the line now.

Will you and Spencer be able to find the way back home this time?

~~~

The water ran hot against your skin as you lathered your body in soap. The bubbles formed quickly from how fast you scrubbed yourself. You didn't like taking showers. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Showers were both simultaneously the best and worst part of your day since returning home from the hospital.

Your fingers barely brushed across your skin, swiping the soap over and back a few times before you washed it off. You didn't like the feel of fingers lingering too long on your skin. Objectively, you were much better than you were before. The first time the nurses tried showering you, you almost screamed the hospital down as flashbacks and phantom touches invaded your brain.

You turned the shower off and stepped out of it. You didn't look in your mirror, immediately reaching for a towel to cover yourself up with. The towel helped you feel less... vulnerable, even if you were all alone.

Only then did you look in the mirror. It had already been one month since you'd left the hospital after being cooped up in there for two weeks. Today actually marked the day you were told you had to leave for the mission - exactly one a year ago. You were now back in your old apartment in DC - Hotch had pulled in a favour from the FBI to keep paying your rent until you came back, and you had almost choked him to death with the strong hug you'd given him when the team had brought you home.

Home.

The word brought a smile to your face. Well, it wasn't so much the word as it was the images that came to mind with it. Your apartment, the BAU, the team, the Italian restaurant downstairs you always used to visit before you left. A certain genius with unruly hair and the brightest smile in the world...

After this weekend, I'll be seeing that smile everyday, you thought as you quickly dried off and rushed to pull some casual shorts and an over-sized gym t-shirt on. Just the thought of being exposed for too long freaked you out.

You walked out to your lounge room where you were greeted with the afternoon light that would no doubt be setting soon. For a moment, you just allowed yourself to take in your street, standing so close to your floor-to-ceiling window that if you leaned forward you would bump your nose against it. The golden light of the setting sun reflected in fragments off the windows of other apartments; people were already home from work and walking the streets with their loved ones or dogs. The hardware store across the road was closing up, but the lights for the Italian restaurant downstairs flickered on, telling the world they were ready for business.

It had been killing you to stay away from work - Hotch and Penelope had made it very clear they didn't want you anywhere near the office until you had taken your month off to recover and readjust back into life. But, in hindsight, you were glad they had. You'd found a new appreciation of where you lived, reacquainted yourself with what you liked to do and liked to eat and liked to go watch at the movies.

This past month had almost wiped Serena Vanderguff from existence... and you couldn't tell if you liked that yet or not.

A sudden knock at your door knitted confusion in your eyebrows as you looked curiously at the entrance to your home. You spared a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. What's someone doing here at quarter-to six on a Friday afternoon?

You softly padded over to the door and peeped through the spyglass that allowed you to see whoever it was that knocked at the door. You couldn't stop your wide smile of delight at who greeted you outside. Without wasting another second, you unlocked the multiple locks on your door and swung the blasted thing open to welcome the one and only Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Spence!' you exclaimed. 'What a lovely surprise!'

'Hey!' he replied just as enthusiastically. 'I was on my way home from the office and thought I'd stop by.'

It was only then you noticed he was holding a big and beautiful bouquet of your favourite flowers. 'Goodness, Spence, you didn't have to bring me flowers again.' He'd been bringing you flowers once a week every week since you'd been found. Even when you were still in the hospital, those two weeks he had brought you the same flowers, the ones you loved.

He just smiled that adorable smile of his before responding. 'I read somewhere that florals can produce a high level of endorphins and serotonin,' he explained as he offered them out to you, lips still upturned in a crooked, adorable smile. 'And ever since that sewerage pipe break in your building, there's always been a lingering smell that I thought you could use help covering up.'

'That was over a year ago, though!' you argued weakly, but took the flowers from his hands anyways. Your fingers briefly brushed, and it sent a jolt of electricity through you. It was gone as quickly as it came.

You gestured for him to come inside and he did. From your front door the kitchen was easily accessible, which is where he walked to and leant against the counter. You quickly closed the door and followed after him, heading straight for your flowers from last week sitting wilted in their vase.

'And in all that time, they still haven't managed to fix it,' Spencer added jokingly, but the upward pull of his lips wasn't as high now.

You heard what he really meant as you pulled out the dead flowers, filled the vase with fresh water, and placed the new flowers in. All that time...

A lot has happened in that time. Upon your release from the hospital, Khan had been put in jail alongside many of his goons. Madame Lacroix and the other New York club managers were found guilty of human trafficking and dealing in illicit drugs and contraband, and were all thrown in jail and their clubs were shut down. Turned out it was a national operation that Khan was running, and other units of the FBI in other states were currently hunting them all down.

What made you happy though was that the girls you saved were going home, and for those that didn't have homes, they were being found homes of their own. The older girls that worked at the clubs were a different story. Some packed up and left town, wanting to travel or find new work elsewhere. The rest bought up the clubs and were rebranding themselves, taking ownership of their lives. Now they were the ones in charge.

You looked at Spencer, leaning casually against your counter, the light of sunset haloing him as it reflected off the opposite building into your apartment.

And a lot still hasn't happened.

'So, what's the occasion?' you asked, turning to face Spencer, finally finished with the flowers. You crossed your arms and couldn't help the soft smile that pulled at you lips. 'To what do I owe the pleasure of the great Dr. Spencer Reid in my apartment this evening?'

He chuckled at my posh delivery, and the loose curls dangling across his forehead bounced with the sound. It had grown in the time since he'd found you, but he'd cut it once or twice since then to keep it at that perfect length of long-short - long enough to style gorgeously but short enough to be considered clean-cut and suitable for work.

The urge to rake your fingers through the curls itched at your fingertips, and you were so glad your hands were crossed under your armpits.

'I was meant to come in earlier this week like I usually do,' he started, pushing off the counter to wander past the kitchen and into the lounge, ultimately ending up looking out the window as you had been just before. 'But the amount of paperwork we've had piling up this month has been ridiculous, even I was starting to hate looking at endless towers of paper to read then sign.'

'Oh no,' I drawled out, following him to the window with a teasing smirk on my lips. 'Has the great Dr. Reid finally met his match?'

'Not quite,' he replied, still staring out the window.

It was hard not to look at him as the sunlight lit up his amber eyes,. He was simply... ethereal.

'I finished it all, finally,' he continued, 'and thought I'd pay you a visit. Seeing as it's Friday and there are no new cases, I'm not expected in the office tomorrow.'

I blew out a low whistle. 'Wow. A whole weekend to yourself? That's unheard of.'

'Yeah.' His voice was breathy, and you noticed the emotion in his gaze shift as he turned away from watching the world to look at you. A sad smile appeared on his lips, eyes glazing over with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. 'I've missed you.'

'You saw me last week,' you countered, like a mother placating a child. 'And we text and call like everyday.'

'I know. It's just like old times again, but...'

He paused, as if gathering his next words carefully. Spencer always thought about his words so that people understood him the best possible way. It was one of the things you positively adored about him.

'The office is, I don't know, empty somehow,' he said finally, slowly. 'I know that's a silly thing to say when Morgan and JJ and Penelope and everyone else is there, but... Your desk still sits there, waiting for you to come back. And I kept it clean for over a year, almost willing you to come back any of those days.'

You smiled softly at him. 'Well, you don't have to wait much longer. Monday morning, bright and early, I'll be at my desk ready to go.'

Your eyes met and you could tell he was holding back tears. Your words came out quiet but true. 'I've missed you too, Spence.'

You had always been attuned to each other, the team sometimes joking that you both shared the same brain cells (even though, as Spencer claimed continuously, that was not anatomically possible). The sentiment remained true as you and him reached out to one another and wrapped your arms tight around each other.

Reflexively, your breath caught in your throat, and you were thrown back to that night where Khan defiled you in the most brutal of ways.

Spencer noticed you tense, and he pulled back slightly. 'Is this okay?" he asked gently. He had been there when you had your meltdown at the nurses; he knew what Khan had done to you, and how you would never be same because of it.

His arms were warm and gentle around you, and that horrible memory disappeared. You were with Spencer. You were safe. You were home.

You took a moment to catch your breath, to stabilise yourself in the present once more, and pulled him in tighter. 'Yes. This is okay.'

After your permission, his arms tightened around you, and there you stayed for a while longer. Just hugging while the rest of the world passed you by. With your ear pressed to his chest, you knew both your hearts were beating in time with one another.

Synced. Linked. Two halves of a whole.

Your heart practically screamed for him when he and the team had found you, saved you. It had been screaming for over a month since that day, and you knew it would never stop screaming for him.

I would've said yes.

Neither of you had said anything about what you'd said, what you had confirmed. Everything had just happened so quickly, and then Spencer had been busy with work since the team was a man down until you returned.

You'd stolen what you could in your brief touches, the laughs you shared, the scent of the flowers that hung in your apartment for a week before he brought a new set. And despite all he had done to get you back, despite that night at the Chateau - What would you have said? - you'd just been too much of a coward to see if he still felt that way for you.

Because nothing had changed for you. It never would.

You had two days before your life would go back to semi-normal, and by then it would be too difficult, too complicated. Oh screw it, it's complicated already.

You pulled apart from Spencer, disentangling yourself from him completely. As much as you wished to hold him forever, you needed to have your space if you had any hope of finally getting the words out.

'Hey, you okay?' he asked, noticing your tensed form, your fidgety fingers.

'Yeah, I just...'

You took in a deep breath, closed your eyes, and let out that breath. Now or never, Y/N.

Opening your eyes, you spoke. 'I just don't think I've ever thanked you for checking in on me. I know how busy you can be.'

'There's no need,' he replied, a soft smile adorning his face. 'I'll always come to your aid. You're... so dear to me, Y/N.'

Hope sparked in your chest, the only driving force for you to keep speaking. 'I mean it. You literally saved my life in the Warehouse. I had resigned myself to my fate: that I would never see you or Pen or Derek or JJ or the rest of the team again. I knew you'd find me, but I had made peace with dying before that point.'

You sucked in a steadying breath as the dark memories started to claw their way back into your brain, into your heart. Phantom fingers ghosted over your skin, causing you cross your arms again in attempt to protect yourself from them.

'And then Khan... used me,' you managed to get out, words strained and voice croaky as tears formed at the rim of your eyelids.

Spencer's expression turned into one of concern. 'You don't have to talk about this if you don't want to, Y/N,' he offered, amber eyes scanning me all over for signs that I would breakdown.

I shook my head. 'No. I need to tell you this. I need you to understand.'

'Understand what?'

'That this past month I have had to learn to re-love myself again, to re-love my body and what it did for me that day.' I forced my arms down beside me, opening myself up completely to Spencer. 'It hasn't been easy, and sometimes... I've hated myself, instead. And the scars run deeper than my skin shows and may last for a long time - possibly for the rest of my life.'

You tell yourself to be brave for a moment, and you look directly into Spencer's eyes, which shine with unshed tears and something else you can't quite figure out.

'But you... Dr. Spencer Reid,' you started, tears finally falling from your eyes as the brightest smile spread across your face. 'You have made me believe in hope again. Hope, that I might one day be rid of this hatred for myself and my body. Hope, that I can carry this trauma and still live a full life. Hope, that I can be more than what Walter Khan made of me that night.'

A hysterical chuckle escapes you, and you wipe some of the tears away. There was a silent voice in the back of your head saying how ridiculous you are for crying over this. But that voice was all of hatred, of jealously. It has been the voice you've let dictate your feelings for over a month.

But, today, you were done listening to it.

'Hope, that... you love you me as much as I love you, Spencer.'

There, you said it. Relief bombarded the space where the weight of those words had held a huge place in your heart for the longest time. Since before the mission, before Maeve, before you even knew you were in love with him. It was out there, now. There was no going back.

Spencer remained silent, staring at you like you had three heads. Slight panic coursed coldly through you, and suddenly your mouth was motoring, words just flying out one after the other.

'That's not me asking you to say it back or anything. I just... oh my goodness, screw it. I have been in love with you forever, Spencer, and I just wanted to let you know because you have taken up such a huge part of my heart that will never belong to anyone else, and-'

'You love me?'

You paused at Spencer's question, locking eyes with the boy genius and seeing a mixture of disbelief and that same emotion again, the one you couldn't put a finger on. Perhaps it was terror, and that one thought had your heart sinking like the Titanic.

'Yeah,' you replied quietly.

'...How long?'

'Sorry?'

'How. Long.'

You rubbed at your eyes, suddenly avoiding his gaze by looking simply anywhere else. It was all going so horribly wrong. But he'd asked a question. And you would do anything, answer anything, if he asked.

'I think I've loved you since the day I met you,' you said, and it was only when you'd spoken the words did you realise how cliche you sounded. A humourless laugh escaped you at your misery.

'I didn't realise until a few years later, though,' you continued. 'But by the time I did, I found out you had a secret girlfriend in Maeve and you were just so happy I couldn't possibly ruin what we had because of that. And I never tried after because you were grieving and I didn't want you to think I was rushing you or pushing you too soon. But then you asked me, and I was so happy, but then it all just went downhill from there. Goodness, this is all coming out horribly wrong-'

'Stop talking.'

'Wha- Mph!'

Your question was swallowed by Spencer Reid's lips as he cradled your face in his hands and pulled you to him, pressing his lips passionately against yours. He tasted like Halloween sweets and fresh air, and that just made you close your eyes and melt into him more. The kiss wasn't frantic. Rather, it was sweet and loving and you couldn't get enough of him. Even as you weaved your fingers into his luscious hair and tugged on them gently, eliciting a deep growl of approval and want from deep within him.

As he kissed you, your doubts faded away, leaving only your love for another that could not be any clearer now. As he kissed you, another mental, emotional scare healed and vanished.

You both finally pulled apart, heaving for breath as your noses brushed one another's. When you looked up at his eyes, you finally recognised the mystery emotion that had been burning ever since he'd stepped into your apartment.

A relieved, genuinely happy smile split his lips wide as tears of joy ran down his cheeks. His thumb swept over your own tears, causing you both to chuckle at your silliness.

'If you hadn't guessed already,' he said, his words only for you, 'I love you, too. I know that's an odd thing to say before you even date someone, but I do, and I have for a while even if I didn't know it before. I'm just so so sorry for making you wait, for being an ignorant, stupid coward.'

You brought your hands up to wipe away his own tears, heart immensely full for the man in front of you. 'Dr. Spencer Reid stupid? Now you're just making stuff up. I thought you didn't do that.'

That pulled a laugh from him, and he pulled you into another hug, this time more bone-crushing. As if he couldn't express how much he loved you enough. You hugged him back just as desperately though. It seemed as though you shared the same sentiment.

In another moment of bravery, you spoke over his shoulder where your chin rested. 'You know... my answer still stands. That is, if your offer still stands.'

Dr. Spencer Reid. Are you asking me out on a date right now?

Spencer pulled away from the hug, with the biggest smile on his face. 'It will always stand for you, Y/N. Always.'

What do you say, SSA Y/N L/N? Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?

It was you this time that pressed a bruising kiss on Spencer's lips, the kiss being answer enough for what you had been holding onto for exactly a year.

Sweet, sweet music wafted up from downstairs, the faint sound of a beautiful violin sparking an idea in your head. You forced yourself to pull away from Spencer and said, 'I know a great Italian restaurant that is super close, by the way.'

'Sounds perfect,' Spencer replied, kissing you quickly again before crouch and picking you up by your underarms and twirling your around in the air. Laughter echoed through your apartment as you clung to him but also rejoiced at the feeling of flying. For the first time in over a year, you were finally feeling like yourself again.

Spencer eventually put you down, saying, 'As much as I find you the most beautiful girl in the world, I don't think t-shirt and shorts are going to cut it downstairs.'

'Oh. Right.' You quickly dashed into your room and put on something more suitable.

And finally, one year after being asked out, Spencer held your hand in his and took you downstairs to have your date, where you both had the best night you'd had in a long time. It might've taken a few twists and turns to get to where you both belonged: with each other. But as you ate your pasta, drank your wine, danced with and laughed with and kissed Spencer, you realised it had only made your bond stronger, that it had been worth it.

You'd finally found your way back home.

122 notes · View notes

nabtime · 10 months

Text

Our Empty Graves VIII

Fandom: Danny Phantom / Batman: Under the Red Hood

Pairings: Danny Fenton/Jason Todd (Dead on Main)

Rating: Mature

Tags: batfamily, hazmat AU, Nobody Knows AU, Mute!Phantom, potential ghost king danny, slow burn?, DC means Disregard Canon, AU means AU nothing is exactly the same, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, more than canon typical violence, danny is a Halfa and also a Fetch, no beta we die like basically everyone

Summary: They say that Red Hood has a loyal mutt. The man rules his territory in Crime Alley with an iron fist and a guard dog at his side. They say that Hood calls him Fetch, sometimes Fetcher. No one's ever heard him speak. Anyone who's ever seen him says he looks like an experiment gone wrong, that Hood picked him up somewhere unspeakable. They say he'll do anything Red Hood asks of him and he'll do it well. That he's strong and fast and probably inhuman. The girls say he's sweet; quiet but charming in his own way. Rival gangs say he's vicious; that he'd sooner rip your throat out than let you go.

Jason just wants to help him.

Chapter 8: and ive been the bad guy for so long (im growing tired)

Chapter Summary: Danny has an unexpected encounter in the graveyard. Jason is hunting for someone.

Chapter Notes: title from Villain Of My Own Story by Unlike Pluto Links: AO3 // Chapter 1 // Chapter 7 // Chapter 9 // Spotify

It’d been one of the last times he’d been Danny Fenton. One of the last times he’d kept up the facade of humanity. One of the last times he ever saw his sister.

She was home for break, traveling all the way back from her fancy college to shack up at Fentonworks because she had no other place to go. He knew she hated being there. Hated being around their parents. Hated being around him.

Ever since his accident (where he died, where he became other) she’d alternated between excessive clinging and cold distance. Like she was afraid of something. Afraid of losing him. Afraid of him. The more he went out as Phantom, the more he slacked in his studies and ignored his friends that ignored him in turn, the more he broke curfew- the more distance Jazz had put between them. Then she graduated, got a full ride, and left- never looking back. Only until she had to.

He’d been bleeding from the side, because in those days it was rarer when he wasn’t, and trying to patch himself up to stem the flow of red-green-red blood until his powers kicked in enough to heal it up. Technus had gotten him with a nasty saw blade attached to an old brick phone that he hadn’t expected. He should have been paying more attention, should have been better.

He really should have been paying more attention to the people in his house.

He’d climbed in from the window- all in human form so as to avoid the ghost shields around the house. His parents never noticed or bothered to check in on him if they did, so he’d been careless about heaving himself in. He hadn’t noticed Jazz standing, arms crossed, in the corner until she’d gasped at the sight of his wound. At the blood. Red-green-red.

He’d seen the bright green glare of his eyes flashing reflected in hers. A mirror image imposed over fear and building rage.

“What did you do with him,” she demanded, voice trembling but furious. She left the shadows of the corner and stalked toward him where he’d frozen by the window.

“What did you do with Danny?” she hissed, like a viper about to strike, ready and willing even if the warble in her words belied her hesitation.

He remained frozen, struck dumb by fear and panic, frantically trying to think of an explanation. An excuse. A lie. Anything to make his sister stop looking at him like that. Stop looking at him the way she had for the past few years.

“I don’t know-,” he stuttered out as Jazz moved closer and closer, anger making her entire body tremble with every step. His voice was scratchy and painful. He hadn’t had cause to speak in weeks before this.

“Don’t you start that,” she snapped, looming over him. She’d always taken after Dad, height-wise. “Don’t you lie to me. I’ve suspected for years what you are. That- that green only proves it!”

“Jazz-”

“Stop it!” she grabbed his wrist, grip strong and bruising. The neon light of his eyes lit her face at a sinister angle, casting her features in deep shadows. Twisting it. “I know my brother. I know he’d never be like this. Danny would never hurt people like you do!”

He didn’t hurt people! He didn’t, he didn’t. Never on purpose. Never because he meant to. And yet. People still got hurt. People got hurt around him and it was still his fault, because he was the one that opened the portal. He was the one that brought hell upon Amity Park.

He could see his own reflection in her eyes, caught by monster that stared back at him. Caught by the fear he found underneath. The fury of his sister.

She lunged, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “Where is he?!”

Tears were cascading down both of their faces. The desperation in Jazz’s voice shook Danny to his core.

“I know who you are,” she intoned. She released him when he still couldn’t muster a response, her face falling into a more terrifying blankness. “I know what you are. Ghost. Phantom. Monster.”

He recoiled, struggling in her grip. He wasn’t a monster. He wasn’t. He wasn’t. He was still himself! Still Danny! Wasn’t he?

“Get out of my house,” she said, back turning to face the wall and her voice still flat. “Get out of his room.”

“Jazz, please,” he croaked.

He didn’t want to leave. Didn’t want to give up the last shards of his shattered humanity. It didn’t matter how dangerous it was to live with his parents like this, on edge during every second of the day and never knowing when he’d get caught, get torn molecule by molecule. Because if he was still here, if he was still trying to go to school, if he was still trying to keep his life together, it meant he had one. He never wanted to die. Never wanted to come back like that.

She whirled around and any words he’d been trying to gather to plead his case fled at the sight of her face. She was still cast in dark shadow, but her eyes blazed, still wet with tears. She was angry, she was afraid. She was hurt. He’d done that. He’d done that to his sister. The sister that had practically raised him.

“It would be better,” she whispered. “For them. For me. To have closure. You aren’t my little brother. For whatever reason you won’t tell me, he’s gone.”

She turned again, a sob wracking her thin frame. She was so thin. Where once she’d trained with their mother in martial arts and packed on wiry muscle, she was now skin and bone. Tears she’d shed had only emphasized the bags that laid underneath. She was shaking. Her hair was dry and thinning. He hadn’t noticed before. Hadn’t noticed how much the stress was getting to her. How much she was hurting. His parents had remained oblivious. Jazz had not. He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t hurt her like that.

“I don’t know if he’s missing or dead, or- or something else. You won’t tell me.” Her voice was strangled with tears, thin but sharp. “That’s fine. It’s actually not, but I can’t force answers out of you.”

She turned her head, arms clutching her torso in some facsimile of a hug. He could see the fear and apprehension on her. He hated it.

“You’re too powerful. I’ve seen you fight. And I’m no hunter.”

She walked away, towards the door of his room, hand reaching out to clutch the door knob in a white-knuckled grip. “But please, stop pretending he’s still here.”

She left. He left. He never returned to that house.

═════ ◈ ═════

It’d been an all too familiar confrontation when Red Hood finally saw him for what he was. Nothing but a monster. He’d heard the word so many times now, it was imprinted into his very core. Spat in anger at him, shouted in fear at him, whispered in horror at him. He didn’t know why he tried. Why he kept trying to connect. To feel alive again, feel human again. It never worked. He was too unnatural, too beastly. Grotesque.

He died. He was dead, dead, dead. No amount of wishful thinking would change that. He came back wrong. Inhuman. Freakish. The humans feared him and the ghosts hated him. He couldn’t even die properly. Couldn’t be a ghost properly.

Alone. He was alone. And that’s all he would ever be.

He didn’t deserve anything else. He’d hurt too many people. Jazz. His mom and dad. Sam and Tucker. Valerie. Her father. And he hurt ghosts too. Ember, Desiree, Technus. And he’d killed. Ending may not be a one-to-one correlation with murder, but it still wiped a being from existence. If anything the way he’d crushed Pariah’s core was more visceral. The screaming and screaming and screaming. The tearing and ripping and- consumption. He’d crushed Pariah’s core and eaten it. Ghost Hunger, the Fright Knight had solemnly called it. An instinct ghosts had when fighting so viciously, fighting over territory. Pariah had stolen and claimed his Haunt, he’d asked for a fight to the End the moment he’d taken Amity into the Zone. And he lost. And now it didn’t even matter because his Haunt was lost to him anyway. When the people left, so did his reason for protecting his territory. Then, falling into the portal into Gotham had really cemented the loss.

He was just a ghost with nothing to haunt and a long list of people he’d hurt. Red Hood was simply a new name to add.

He wasn’t even sure what triggered it. It had already just been a waiting game, waiting for the other shoe to drop. He knew that at some point Red would change his mind, figure out what Danny truly was and act accordingly. He’d been so angry with Danny despite how hard he’d tried to be good this time. He wanted to be helpful, wanted to save people where he hadn’t been. Nobody else needed to know the pain of dying, or the pain of coming back different. But he couldn’t go back out there, out there into the streets. Gotham at large was Batman’s territory and he already knew how the Big Bat felt about him. Crime Alley was Red’s territory and he wouldn’t dare to step foot back there without permission.

It didn’t matter how badly he flinched and had to restrain himself every time he heard a scream.

He wouldn’t leave the sanctity of the tree he’d perched in anyway. Not without the protective barrier of his suit. He’d been in such a frantic hurry when he’d left that dojo that he hadn’t grabbed all his gear. Usually, with it being made of ectoplasm, it would reform if it got torn or ripped. He’d never taken it off though. Not like he had on Red’s request. He could tell that the pants were starting to reform around his legs, but it was taking time. Most of his ectoplasm was going towards his wound from before. It might take up to a week before his suit was fully back. He’d left a lot of ectoplasm back at the dojo by leaving his gear, all of it likely turned to goop by now.

He would just spent the rest of his afterlife (however long that was) in this hickory tree in the cemetery, foraging for nuts when he felt up for it. Nothing much else he could do. Back to square one.

“Yo, Cujo!”

He startled at the shout. Had someone lost their dog in the cemetery of all places? Maybe he could help… No. He’d just scare them. But something about that voice was familiar…

“Ey! I’m talkin to you, puppy dog! Get your florescent ass down here!”

Nadi? Why was she here? And was she- looking for him? She couldn’t be. Sure, they’d ‘talked’ a few times after he’d taken down Charlie for her, but she still didn’t have a reason to track him down. It’s not like he worked for Red Hood anymore. But- Maybe she was in trouble? Did she need help?

Worried, he made most of his body intangible so as not to rustle any of the leaves of the tree and took a peek to check on her.

She stood there among the graves in her usual work clothes, hands on her hips and not a hair out of place. He always wondered how she could walk in heels that tall and if she ever got cold with so little clothing. At least she had on a large fur coat to keep her warm in the chill of the night this time. She also looked kinda pissed though. Charlie hovered behind her, looking nervous and wringing his hands.

It was nice to see the man cleaned up. Access to regular hygiene products and clean clothes did wonders for him. Stable amounts of food and shelter helped him fill out and look less gaunt overall as well. As far as Danny had seen he also took his job seriously, making sure the girls- mostly Nadi- had everything they needed and were well taken care of. He was kind of proud to see the man had come so far.

“C’mon kid, I know you’re up there,” she called, staring straight at the tree Danny was hanging in. “I’m not stupid, baby. Trees don’t glow like that on their own.”

Curse him and his bioluminescence.

Reluctantly he turned invisible and started climbing down the tree, making sure to shake the branches on the way down so Nadi could see that he was coming. He didn’t want her to see him like this, without his mask, without his suit, but he also didn’t want to make her stand in the cemetery all night for no reason.

His feet moved the grass, marking his steps where the sight of his body didn’t. The rustling sound alerted Nadi of his approach and she smiled. It was small and kind of sad but at least she wasn’t screaming.

“What are you hiding for, baby?” she asked softly, looking just past his shoulder. “I’ve seen you before.”

He shuffled in place but made no other move. Nadi sighed and he could see Charlie shifting uneasily behind her. Charlie knew to be afraid of him, even if Nadi seemed naively fearless.

“C’mon now, baby boy. I came all the way out here to see you. It took a shit load of annoying Hood to get him to tell me where you might be, you know.”

And that certainly caught his attention. Hood had told her where he was? Hood knew where he was? He… hadn’t hunted Danny down to throw him out even knowing where he was? Even told one of the people under his protection his location? He had so many questions and no way to ask them.

“Looked like he was gonna blast ya head off if ya didn’t stop, too,” Charlie muttered.

“Oh hush, you,” she said, swatting a perfectly manicured hand towards the other. “Hood wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“You’re fuckin’ nuts, Nadi,” Charlie replied in derision. “Man decapitates people for fun.”

“Mn, whatever,” she dismissed. “Anyway, Cujo, where have you been, baby? I ain’t seen you around at all the past week! And Hood might have told me where you were but he wouldn’t tell me what happened.”

She crossed her arms with a pout, expecting an answer. But he didn’t have one for her. He didn’t want to think about that day in the dojo. Didn’t want to think about the pain. Think about the anger and betrayal he’d seen in Red’s eyes. Danny didn’t know what he did, exactly, but it’d only been a matter of time before Red threw him out anyway. Better now than later when Danny had fully settled in. He didn’t deserve company like this. Didn’t deserve to pretend to be human. Didn’t deserve Red Hood’s generosity.

“Baby,” she said, voice so, so soft and gentle it hurt, “talk to me. Please. I miss my little savior.”

He struggled not to whine with his core, trying to keep the sound in. Her little savior. She missed him. He didn’t know what to do here. Didn’t know what he could even try to communicate. He wanted to disappear on the spot, wanted to leave so she wouldn’t say those kinds of things to him. Things that made him hope. He couldn’t let her do that. But more than that he couldn’t leave. Wouldn’t. He needed to disappear, but more than anything he wanted to stay. Even if it ended in disaster again, he wanted to stay.

His powers flickered with his indecision until he finally dropped the invisibility altogether. He braced himself, closing his eyes even as they filled with tears.

He heard a gasp from Nadi and flinched away. Charlie mumbled a “No fuckin’ way” and he waited for the screaming. Waited for the anger and the fear.

It never came.

“Oh, mi vida,” Nadi cooed. “Look at you. You have a face!”

Charlie, who was standing just behind Nadi and peering around her arm, snorted a startled laugh. He looked disbelieving and wary. But he didn’t look scared. Nadi didn’t look scared either. She stepped closer and Danny held in the flinch at her hands coming close to his face. He almost melted when all she did was cup his cheek and run a hand through his hair. His core rumbled and more tears fell from his eyes at the touch.

He didn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t let her get so close. But he couldn’t pull away. It felt so nice.

“Oh, look at your hair, you poor thing,” she tsked as she ran her fingers through the ragged strands. He’d tried to cut it once, on his own, on one of the last few times he’d been human (pretending to be). He’d been so frustrated with it and he’d already fled the house and it had kept getting in his eyes and its not like he’d had access to scissors. Frustrated ectoblasts did not good hair-cutting tools make. The chunks he’d burned away hadn’t grown back right and the others were growing far, far too long. Not that he’d noticed much before now. His hair stayed under the hood of his suit. Hidden away. Probably why he hadn’t tried to shoot it again.

“This won’t do,” Nadi murmured. “This won’t do at all. Your face is far too pretty for hair like this. It needs to be fixed.”

The words made his face scrunch in confusion. Fix it? Pretty? He was a monster, inhuman. He wasn’t pretty. He couldn’t be fixed.

“Come,” she said, dropping her hands to tug at his arms, gentle, as she started backing up. “Come on. I’m gonna give you a hair-cut, baby. And then we’ll talk about why you’ve been hiding out here.”

He stepped back, phasing his arms out of her grip. He couldn’t. He couldn’t leave the cemetery. If the Batman didn’t hunt him down, then Red would. He’d told Danny to leave. Told him he was a traitor. A monster. He wouldn’t go back into the other’s territory and that’s exactly where Nadi would want him to go.

He shook his head, backing up more to put space between them. He couldn’t. He couldn’t.

“Okay,” Nadi said, holding her hands up. “Okay, mi vida. Don’t go. Please.”

He stopped. Wary.

“You don’t have to talk. But, please, come back with me?”

He shook his head. She didn’t understand. He back up another step, preparing to flee. He shouldn’t have let her get so close in the first place.

“Wait!” she pleaded. And he did. “Is it the hair-cut? Do you not want that? We don’t have to, baby. Just- please?”

He shook his head again. She still didn’t understand. No one ever did. Why was it so hard? This is why he’d never tried before. Never tried to talk. To communicate. No one ever understood. No one except-

He made it to the hickory tree, patting the trunk and looking back at Nadi. He pointedly tapped the trunk again, pointed to himself and then the ground of the cemetery. He pointed to himself, then the direction of the gates and shook his head. Nadi could visit all she liked, but he couldn’t leave. The cemetery, a resting place for the dead, was the only place he belonged anymore. He needed to stop pretending he was still alive and stay in a Haunt he deserved. A place empty and cold aside from the other restless shades.

Nadi deflated, heaving a sigh. “Mi vida, you can’t stay here. This is no place for you. Please, please, come with me.”

He smiled, small and hurt. She was wrong. This was the one place that was for him.

“Okay!” she cried, seeing his intention to return to his new home in the bough of the hickory. He paused. Waiting to see what she would say.

“I’m going to leave,” she declared, hands on her hips. He tilted his head in acknowledgment. “And I’m going to get everything I need. And then I’m coming back and cutting your hair.”

He blinked, not expecting that. She would willingly come back? Willingly see him again? Do a favor for him, even? Why was she so determined? What could possibly posses her to do something like this? What madness had overcome her? This wouldn’t end well. Not for either of them. He shifted uneasily at the thought. She shouldn’t come back. Shouldn’t sympathize with him. Shouldn’t waste her time on him. But it was all so nice. It felt so, so nice. He’d forever be a fool, always falling for the same trap over and over again. Believing he could be with people without it ending in disaster.

Reluctantly, he nodded. He quickly flew back up into the branches of the tree, fleeing at the sight of her smile. He only hoped she wouldn’t get in any trouble with Red on his behalf. It wasn’t her fault she hadn’t seen him as the terrible thing he was yet.

He played with the ends of his wispy hair, the strands floating in the air around him and twining around his fingers like smoke. A haircut, huh? He wondered how she’d even manage that.

It might be nice, though.

═════ ◈ ═════

Bruce stared at the screen for what felt like hours and hours, a question rotating within his mind with no solid answer. Had Jason Todd come back to life? Had his son fallen soldier clawed his way out of his own grave? Had he been alone and confused? Further failed by Bruce when he wasn’t there in time?

Had Jason Todd, his greatest regret, come back just to taunt him? To make sure he knew how badly he had failed? To hurt him so, so completely? He couldn’t sleep for how much it pained him to think that the magnitude of his failure was far greater than he’d first thought. Not only had he let Jason die, but he hadn’t been there to help him when he came back, either.

But how.

The grave was watched. It had sensors. He’d had Jason buried far from the Wayne family plots, closer to the Alley that the boy had grown up in, in order to avoid looting and antagonistically nosy reporters. The grave being further away, he’d put up sensors in order to know the moment anyone not authorized approached. If anyone had tried to disturb his boy’s body after death he should have known.

He hadn’t accounted for Jason getting out on his own.

He’d hoped. In the beginning. Every day he’d visit that grave and wait. And every night, the death of his youngest soldier still fresh, he’d go home disappointed. Bitter with himself. Feeling foolish for thinking there was even the slightest chance. He known that Jason would never come back. Could never come back. No matter what scheme he tried to think of, no matter what favor he tried to think of to pull, there was no reviving him. The brain damage had been too severe. The boy’s body broken beyond anything. He’d seen the damage first hand. He knew what he’d done.

And yet.

There was a chance he was back. There was a chance that his boy had come back. That Jason, however changed, was alive again.

And he was killing people. Spiting Bruce and all he stood for.

He lowered his weary head into his hands, cowl pressing uncomfortably against his face. Why now? Why like this?

Red Hood wasn’t the only mystery to have fallen into his lap either. The green glowing boy was wrapped up in all of this as well. But he didn’t know how. He’d let his temper, his hurt, get the best of him when the boy had first appeared on Jason’s grave. He’d already been scolded thoroughly for that by Alfred, and he had come to regret it some on his own. But that didn’t change the mystery of the boy’s identity. Hell, the mystery of the boy’s species. He was an unknown variable in Gotham and Bruce couldn’t stand to leave it alone. The boy could be dangerous, doubly so now that he’d taken up with Red Hood’s gang.

All he had to go on were rumors.

Security footage shorted out or was taken over by Red Hood in the first place. The blood that had been left after their initial fight had come back inconclusive. He had no record of whatever substance the boy was made of. His intentions were unknown. His power set was unknown (and he had powers, that much he’d been able to glean). His origins were unknown. And every lead Bruce looked into became a dead end.

He didn’t have the time or energy to dedicate to the case, not unless it directly involved the Red Hood. The Jason Todd case.

Thankfully Tim would be coming back to Gotham soon, a small break from his work with the Titans. He could offload the case to Tim and not think about the immense guilt he felt every time he looked at his latest Robin. He’d sworn after Jason’s death that there would never be another, and yet Tim had wormed his way into Bruce’s life and refused to leave. If he distracted himself with Red Hood’s case and gave another one to distract Tim, maybe they wouldn’t have to interact as much and Bruce wouldn’t have to feel so goddamn sad about it.

He’d give Tim the courtesy of welcoming him back before leaving himself. He’d follow his next lead back to Ra’s and question the man within an inch of his life. If he had had anything to do with Jason being resurrected and then subsequently kept from him, he didn’t know what he was liable to do.

First, he’d wait for Robin to come home. He felt like he was always waiting for his Robin’s to come home, they so often left the nest.

═════ ◈ ═════

Harley was waiting.

She knew she was being hunted and there was no escape. That was fine. She didn’t want to escape, she was here to deliver a message to the newest Bat running in the streets. Oh, Red Hood may bot want to admit he was a new Bat, but Harley knew better. Boy wasn’t exactly subtle with his identity and while Brucie B might have trouble accepting the truth, she knew better than anyone that people could have a habit of coming back from the dead. Her dear Mistah J had managed it enough times. Jason Todd coming back and antagonizing his old man was no surprise. That it took him this long to find her was what was surprising.

“Harley Quinn,” said a voice, deep and heavily modulated. Harley wondered if the baby boy wonder had really grown so much or if it was a mask. Or maybe it was a side-effect of his resurrection. Who could tell.

“Baby bird,” she sang, swinging her hammer up onto her shoulder. “Good ta see ya again.”

“How-”

She spun to face her intruder. She was precariously perched on the ledge of an abandoned building out near the docks. She’d been waiting for Red Hood to show his masked face and he didn’t disappoint. She swung her hammer out towards the boy, leaning back over the edge and using it as a counterbalance to keep herself on the roof. Hood kept his gun on her the entire time.

“Puh-lease,” she said, “you may be able to taunt ol’ Batty boy about who you are, but don’t think you can fool the fool here, Jaybird.” She relished in watching the big little guy flinch. “You’re not exactly subtle, ya know.”

“What do you want, Harley,” he asked, although it didn’t really sound like much of a question. She pouted at him. He was the one to hunt her down and, yeah, she might have caused a little trouble to get his attention, but still. She knew what he wanted.

“It’s not about what youse can do for me, but what I can do’s for you.” She swung her hammer again until it rested on the ledge and she leaned on it for support. “I hear ya been lookin for Mista J.”

And she had heard about that. Rumors wafting up from the underground about Red Hood being on a hunt for the Joker. The other rogues thinking the man was insane, he already had a hit on him from Black Mask (not something any of the usual rogues were willing to touch without testing more of Red Hood’s skill (they were mostly insane, not stupid. No one wanted to battle a guy willing to go toe-to-toe with Black Mask and seemed to be winning.)) and now he wanted to tango with the Big Guy? The Clown Prince of Crime?

Rule number one for Gotham villainy- never work with the Joker. Everyone thought they could control him, predict him, work around his brand of crazy. No one ever succeeded. Ra’s got the little bird killed trying to work with Mister J. Penguin got blasted in the ass the last time he’d tried to hire the Clown for help. Harley was the only one that could match the Joker, the only one that could work with him without it backfiring. She was the harlequin to his jester, the tit to his tat.

“You know who I am,” he said. And she did. That was part of the point here. “You know what I want with him. You’d give me your ‘precious puddin’ for nothing?”

She didn’t like being mocked like that, but she let it go. It wouldn’t do to lose her temper here.

“I wouldn’t say it’s nothin’, Little Hood,” she said, twirling a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “An’ sides,” she added, trying her best to look sad, “me and Mista J ain’t exactly square anymore. He hurt me good and I’ma lookin’ to hurt him back. I let you attem an’ we both win in the end, ya see?”

“If he hurt you so bad, then why don’t you want revenge for yourself instead of handing it off to me?” he sounded cautious, but willing to believe her. Sucker.

“Well, deep down somewheres in here,” she pointed to her heart, “I still love the guy.” She swooned, nearly falling off the roof with her dramatics, but she kept her place. She knew how to balance, to walk that thin, thin line. “Wouldn’t be able to pull the trigger. You, on the otha hand,” she stopped to sweep a hand in Red’s direction, “gots plenty a triggers to pull.”

“Don’t play with me, Harleen,” he growled. Ooh, so scary. She’d seen that boy in pixie shorts, chasing crime in his greenie-tighties, she wasn’t intimidated by him. He might have a gun, but she had a hammer. And hyenas if the situation called for it.

“Ain’t playin’!” She said, swaying on the ledge with the force of her denial. “Pinky swear!” she held up a pinky, but kept her other hand behind her back, crossing her fingers.

“Heard ya got a doggy to play with anyhow,” she said, distracting. She knew his little friend had run off without him. Poor boy had never been any good at playing nice.

“Ran away,” he said, voice curt and closed off. Ooh, she’d definitely hit a sore spot.

“Aw, that’s too bad!” she cooed, before stretching her face into a wide, sharp grin. “Was hopin’ we could play fetch.”

“Tell me where he is or get shot, Quinn,” he growled. Oh, maybe the nerve was a tad too sensitive. Oopsie.

“Party pooper,” she pouted. She swung her hammer up onto her shoulder and sauntered closer, ignoring the had tightening on the gun still pointed at her head. She knew he wouldn’t shoot. He needed her intel too much. Boy was too much like his dad for that.

“Alright,” she said, “Mistah J is gonna be havin a little party. Don’t know why, just that he is. And I so happen to have an exclusive in-va-ta-tion.” With that she pulled out a little card and waved it around in the other’s face.

He made a grab for it and she pulled back. “Ah, ah,” she sang. “You gotta promise you let me know when you RSVP. I wanna see you crash his shindig, ya dig?”

“Fine,” he bit out. And Harley could just hear him grinding his teeth. Gosh, she loved riling up the Bats. He snatched the card out of her hand and she let him. He pulled out a grapple (classic Bat behavior) and was about to swing away before she shouted after him.

“Maybe you can bring your little doggie friend too!”

She laughed as she dodged the bullet that embedded itself into the concrete where she’d been standing a second earlier. Oh, what a fun little bash they would have. She clapped and laughed as she hopped down the fire escape, switching to a jaunty whistle as she strolled the docks. She knew why her puddin’ was throwing his soiree. Knew that it wasn’t something the baby bat could crash. Not when he was the guest of honor! Sure hoped he liked the cake they picked out for his welcome home party! And the explosives!

#naps fics #dp x dc #Our Empty Graves #dpxdc

13 notes · View notes

bluejaysandblackbats · 3 months

Text

The Spin Out

Fandom: Batman, DC Comics

Summary: Jason Todd returns to Gotham after three years for the final time to win enough money to pay off Sheila's debts.

Chapters: 2/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Sheila Haywood, Original Character(s), Bruce Wayne

Relationships: Jason Todd/Original Character

Additional Tags: Street Racing AU, No Capes AU, Jason Todd-centric, Hurt Jason Todd, Bad Parent Sheila Haywood, Bruce Wayne Tries to Be a Good Parent, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Communicating, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Organized Crime, Jason Todd has PTSD, Jason Todd has Trust Issues, Jason Todd is Not Okay, Good Person Jason Todd, Stalker Bruce Wayne, Family Issues, Secret Identities, Secrets, Angst

Chapter Two: Sick at Sea

Jason fell asleep as soon as he got settled on the boat. He kept his arms crossed tightly over his backpack as the ship rocked violently in the stirrings of a storm. His half-full stomach turned flips even as he slept. Having nightmares of Gotham and revving engines and fire. Hellfire. He sat up with a start, swallowing hard to stave off the urge to vomit. His bunkmate gave him the bucket. “Didn’t take you for the type to get seasick,” the man mumbled. Jason hunched over the bucket, breathing through his nose. “You shouldn’t fight it.” Jason nodded as he spit up in the bucket like a child.

“I don’t get seasick… I just—. The heat’s making me sick,” Jason muttered. His shirt clung to his chest.

“What does hell look like in your dreams?” the man questioned. Jason shut his eyes. “In my dreams, hell is an airport terminal, and it gradually gets hotter and hotter—.”

Jason dry heaved. “What are you talking about?” Jason interrupted.

“You talk in your sleep. You said something about hellfire. I wondered what that looked like for you in your—.”

“A burning building. It’s hot, and there’s no way out,” Jason panted, “Is it this hot outside?”

“Probably not,” the man replied. Jason slipped his backpack on his back and walked through the kitchen to stand outside.

The rain poured down on his head, cooling his body. “Hey, what’s your name?” the man asked. “I’m Paolo!”

“Michael!” Jason lied.

“Michael, what’re you gonna do once you get to Florida?”

“I’m headed towards Philly after that to borrow my friend’s bike,” Jason replied. He slicked his hair back with one hand and dumped the bucket in the ocean. “Since we’ll be on the boat for four days, I’ll let you know now. I don’t talk much.” Paolo nodded.

“Sorry—.”

“You’re not bothering me,” Jason clarified, “I’m just—. I don’t carry conversations well.”

“Okay, well, I hope you let me know when I start getting on your nerves,” Paolo half-joked.

“You’re not. I don’t mind the company,” Jason replied. The boat rocked, knocking Jason into the bow’s railing. He held on tight, chuckling at the pounding in his chest.

“Hey, Michael, we should probably go inside,” Paolo suggested. Jason nodded. Jason joined Paolo in the cabin and dried his hair. “How old are you?” Jason looked up, carefully studying the man’s expression.

“I’m eighteen,” Jason answered truthfully.

He changed out of his wet clothes and wrapped a towel around his waist. “You’re younger than you look,” Paolo replied, “Want a drink?”

Jason nodded, politely holding the flask above his head and pouring the contents into his mouth. He smiled at the sweet hints of vanilla and honey in the whiskey. “Thank you,” Jason replied.

“No problem. Keep it. I’ve got the bottle in my bag,” Paolo replied. Jason smiled, raising the flask to Paolo before taking another sip. “You’re not much of a drinker, are you?”

“I suppose I’m not,” Jason chuckled, “I try to take it easy.” He set the flask to the side as he went through his suitcase for a change of clothes.

He slipped on a pair of shorts and grabbed his journal. There were pictures and phrases on every page. A travel diary filled with all his thoughts, fears, and lessons. He flipped to the nearest empty page and started writing an entry. Writing helped him relax. “What’s there to eat on the boat?” Paolo asked.

“Not sure. I’m not hungry, but my mom made me a hefty lunch. You want it?” Jason offered.

Paolo nodded as Jason opened his lunch bag and passed him a sandwich. Jason locked his diary and zipped it in his bag. He hugged it as he lay in bed. “You’re sick, aren’t you?” Paolo asked. “Can you take an Advil?”

“I don’t usually—. I’ll sleep it off,” Jason whispered.

“Okay, Michael,” Paolo replied, “I’ll be quiet—.”

“You don’t have to. I don’t mind the noise. I sleep better with background noise,” Jason interrupted.

“Alright, then,” Paolo replied, “I hope you feel better soon.” Jason smiled, nodding as he shut his eyes. Sleep flooded in while Paolo hummed a tune.

Jason’s fever broke the night before they docked. Paolo kept watch over him, reading in a low whisper. “It isn’t raining anymore,” Jason mumbled. Paolo perked up, setting his book aside.

“You’re awake. I was worried you’d need a doctor,” Paolo smiled as he approached Jason’s bedside. “Do you want something to eat? The other guy made soup.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason replied, “Actually, let me—. I’m gonna get cleaned up.”

“Michael, I’ll grab you a bowl while you’re in there,” Paolo offered. Jason smiled and went to brush his teeth. When he returned, Paolo sat facing Jason on his bed, eating a bowl of soup. “My son is sick… This is my first time being away from him since he was born.”

Jason frowned. “Is it serious?” Jason questioned.

Paolo shrugged and forced a smile on his face. “I won’t know until I get home. I went to São Tomé to find his brother and talk to him. He’s my wife’s son, and I thought he’d come to see his brother if I invited him,” Paolo explained.

“He isn’t coming?” Jason asked. Paolo shook his head. Jason took a sip of the broth, clearing his throat as he thought of something reassuring to say. “Maybe he doesn’t feel like he can come home. Give him a call when you get home”

“You think it’ll make a difference?” Paolo asked. Jason nodded.

“It would if I were him,” Jason replied.

When the boat docked, Jason called his uncle, Jeremy, on the phone to tell him he’d be in Philidelphia in two days. “Jason, I can drive there and meet you. How ‘bout I put you up in a hotel until I get to you?” Jeremy offered. “The last time I saw you, you were in Ethiopia. You sound better. Do you feel better?”

Jason took a deep breath. “I do… Um—. Uncle Jeremy, you don’t have to go through all that trouble. You’re in Maine. That’s like a two-day drive—.”

“It’ll do us both some good. You stay there and check out the beach and have fun. I’ll come and get you,” Jeremy insisted. Jason smiled.

“Okay… Thanks, Uncle Jeremy. How’s Auntie Miranda?” Jason questioned.

“She’s good. Jason, I’ll text you which hotel and make the reservation for Michael. Right?” Jeremy asked.

“Yes, sir. Thank you,” Jason whispered. Jeremy adored Jason despite the circumstances of their first meeting. Jason was catatonic when they met. The ground felt shaky under Jason’s feet, and his mind raced a mile a minute. Jeremy swooped in as an imposing figure, wading through the thick fog to nurse Jason back to health. He sat with Jason every day, feeding him and speaking to him. Jeremy was intelligent, well-informed, and gentle. The slow and soft cadence of Jeremy’s voice carried him through weeks of nightmarish stillness. Along with Jeremy’s soft fingertips’ therapeutic application of hospital-issued shampoo. That was Jason’s favorite memory. Still, he felt so unsure when speaking to his uncle. Jeremy’s softness was often masked under his tattoos and orotund voice. He stood at six-six with wide shoulders and hands big enough to palm a watermelon. It was enough to intimidate Jason, even as a young adult.

“Jason, try to have fun in Miami,” Jeremy replied, “And don’t call me sir. I don’t even take myself that seriously.”

2 notes · View notes

mrs-tsunderemeitantei · 2 years

Note

Well.. we all know that BO will be destroyed one day, the whole world will know about it's existence... truths will be resurfaced and the most darkest secrets will be revealed..!!

Most characters fates are almost well known, with exception of Sherry/Haibara Ai.. What about her??

I always wonder about the topic of "Aftermath of Sherry" in the end of DC story!!

For example.. Let's imagine that the BO had fallen... its members as well as their boss were all captured and brought to justice, and Haibara regained her true identity as Miyano Shiho after creating the final antidote!! May be it sounds good and expected ending.. but the hardest part has yet to pass. Returning to her original body, Shiho will be left to pick up the pieces of eighteen years living with a noose around her neck..!!

Not only that, but I've always had a weak spot for story dealing extensively with the aftermath of the BO fall, especially when it's around Shiho who will be trying to rebuilt a new life on the ruins of the old one.. in addition, I'm curious and interested to see Shiho dealing with the consequences of her work in the organisation, facing and/or atoning for her sins in the past. I do not know how she will be treated by PSB, police or any other secret service intelligences.. will she be treated as a suspect/ criminal/ victim??!! Also, how she will be viewed according to her country's laws?? And what will be her punishment if she was viewed only as a high-ranking criminal from BO with codename "Sherry"??!!

However, I have different theories/ideas about her aftermath once BO is destructed:

1- Abandoning Shiho Miyano and living as Ai Haibara (I don't think so)

2-Returning to Shiho Miyano, handing herself to police station. Transferred to Teitan High School with suspended sentence, and joined Shinichi Kudo and Ran.

3-After returning to Shiho Miyano and paying for her crimes (imprisoned for several years), she will return to Ai Haibara and live with Dr.Agasa as well as DBs again.

4-She will return to Shiho Miyano, handing herself to police, but would not be prosecuted due to insufficient evidence. After receiving a thank-you for some rescue drama from the detective boys, She says goodbye to Shinichi and others, aiming to develop a drug that makes people happy, and go on the path as a scientist and researcher... or choosing a career that saves people lives (being a doctor for example) !!

5- The fact that Haibara is accused means that the existence of APTX4869 will be known to the world. If that happens, nations and terrorist organizations around the world will make a leap toward APTX4869, which could be out of control. Perhaps the FBI and PSB will hide APTX4869 data, as well as concealing its terrifying effect as lethal poison which doesn't leave any trace in body, and of course the shrinkage effect on Conan and Haibara. Therefore, Haibara will not be accused or arrested .. and APTX data will be kept as a secret, but of course, with the exchange of information about BO from Haibara since she was deeply involved in BO.. knowing much more than wanted about them (plea deal as I guess).

That all I have thought about until now.. and only God knows what Gosho has stored for Haibara in the end of this great series.. but since he stated before that's her ending is gonna surprise everyone, I'm -on the other hand- looking forward to see it. I know her ending being a surprise scares fans..And while there are so many ways to screw up her ending, I'm optimistic Gosho will deliver us an ending worth the wait.. !!

I honestly have nothing else to add 😂 You came up with all the possibilities and I applaud you and thank you for that👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼 Also I think it's so amazing that we share the same opinions. It makes me really happy😁😁

I have my own theories in the pinned post of my page regarding her ending and I agree with your fourth point the most. I hadn't thought about the last point but I think it's very valid and important and I very much see it happening.

But like you said, we're going to have to wait and see what Gosho has in store for us.

Once again thank you so much for this!💛

27 notes · View notes

leftoverenvy · 2 years

Text

Tastes Like Sugar (ch. 22)

Summary: India Mae, or Indi, is a music major, struggling to pay bills, tuition, work, and make good grades. Emily Prentiss is a BAU profiler, as well as a DC socialite thanks to her huge family fortune. The two enter into a mutually beneficial arrangement: Emily will pay for Indi's school if Indi accompanies Emily to her social functions for a few months, posing as her girlfriend. As weeks go by, the lines between their arrangement and their true feelings start to blur. But money can't buy love, right?

Pairing: India Mae Banks x Emily Prentiss; OC x Emily Prentiss

Warnings: canon-type mentions of rape, violence, and gore If you have any concerns, please message me. Please consume media safely in accordance with your triggers.

Word Count: 5k (<- lol sorry this is like two chapters in one)

Read on Wattpad | Ao3 | Previous Chapters

Taglist: @ssa-sapphic 🧸; @5raysofsunshine 🌮; @reidselle 🦭; @milfprotector 🐝💚; @gaelic-symphony 🎻 ; @scargarcia-magshotchner 💜; @sadgirlml 🌻💌; @hotchs-bitch ; @multiverse-mxdness ; @madelineleong

Chapter 22 - The South Side Slayer

Emily's POV: I paced the back wall of the precinct for god knows how long. Hotch had originally agreed that I could stay home this case to take India to the concert, but the next day he called me to come to Chicago. They needed more hands on deck, more agents on the ground. Because I had originally thought I wouldn't be on this case, I hadn't read the file. And when I walked in the Chicago precinct, my stomach plummeted, and I wished Hotch hadn't called me at all.

Pictures of young women plastered the boards. This unsub had already killed twelve women to our knowledge. And all twelve looked exactly like India.

My first glance at his victims caused bile to rise in the back of my throat. I shook my head imperceptibly; there was no way I could work this case. I'd be useless. Each photo of the crime scenes tightened my stomach. Each autopsy photo – the words "sexual assault" next to the victims' faces – paralyzed me. All I saw was Indi's lifeless corpse. All I imagined was Indi's cries as this sick unsub gagged and mutilated the love of my life.

I was supposed to be catching myself up on the case files. Hotch had asked me to get myself up to date so we could go out in the field this evening. But all I could do was pace and try my hardest to keep vomit from rising up my throat. Before I knew what I was doing, my phone was out of my pocket, my fingers already clicking on Indi's name.

"Em? I thought you were on a plane…" I sighed in relief at hearing her sweet voice.

"I've landed now. I'm at the local precinct." She paused, probably waiting for me to get to the point. But there was no point. I had nothing to say or ask. I just needed to hear she was safe. "Are you okay?"

"…Yes? Are you okay, Emily?"

"Yeah, fine love," I played it off. "Just wanted to check in because I had a few minutes. We're going out in the field this evening, so I don't know if I'll be able to call you tonight." There. That was a reasonable excuse to call her a few hours after leaving her.

"Oooookaaaay…" Maybe not such a believable excuse. "Well, please be safe." I nearly laughed out loud. Me be safe? When she was the one in danger? I had to physically stop pacing to get my paranoid brain to listen to my rational brain. Indi is not in Chicago – she is perfectly safe in DC.

"I always am, baby." I bit my lip. Would it be unreasonable to request this? "Um," I started. "Could you do something for me?"

"Anything, Em."

"Could you text me during the day?" I asked nervously. I immediately put my finger in my mouth, biting the bit of nail I had just grown out the past few weeks. Indi had commented just yesterday how proud she was that I had real nails, not just nubs. I grimaced – I knew they would be completely gone by the end of this case. I hated to disappoint her, even over something as trivial as the length of my nails.

"I always text you during the day, Em."

"I know," I sighed, "Just…text me more."

"What's going on?" Concern laced her voice.

"Just please, baby, promise me." I could hear desperation creep in my own voice. I inhaled deeply, trying to gain back a little control.

"I promise, Em. Are you in danger?" I winced. Now I had worried her. The concern in her voice had shifted to mild panic.

"No no, nothing like that," I tried to reassure her. "I-" I took another deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to alarm you. I just miss you."

"I miss you too, baby," she said softly. I felt myself relax slightly. "I'll send you my entire life via text message. You'll be so annoyed with me."

I laughed stiffly. "I doubt that very much." Hotch walked into our meeting room. "Look baby, I've gotta go."

"Hurry home," she said softly. As soon as I hit the end call button, the terrifying images of Indi being sexually assaulted and mutilated swarmed my mind again. I exhaled loudly once more – a desperate attempt to re-ground myself.

"Sorry," I apologized to Hotch. I picked up the case file that had sent me over the edge, hoping it wouldn't again now that I confirmed India was safe. "I just-"

"Don't worry about it. When I first got the file, I knew this one would be hard for you. They do look remarkably similar to her, don't they?" I hummed in agreement. I couldn't form the words for a proper reply. "Let's get started."

______________________________

The team and I entered the hotel lobby. Derek and I were soaking wet, and I was fuming. No one dared talk to me in the car. No one argued this time when I headed straight upstairs. While we normally debriefed right after a day in the field, I didn't have it in me tonight. I hadn't called Indi since earlier this afternoon and had not found time to check my messages.

Not caring that I was still rain-soaked and muddy, once upstairs, I flopped in the chair in the corner of the room to check my messages.

Indi🥰: Hi babe! Just had the best Thai food. I'll have to take you to this place near campus sometime. Indi🥰: I hope you're being safe. I'm thinking about you… Indi🥰: Feels weird to text you again…are you sure you want me to text you this much? It's 9:00 and I have to be up early, so I'm getting ready for bed…call if you can. I miss your voice. Indi🥰: Guess you're still out. Talk to you tomorrow babe 😘

I sighed. I had just missed her by about two hours. I risked waking her because I needed to hear her voice. No answer. I groaned and threw my phone full force, lucky it landed against the pillows on the bed. I put my head in my hands and willed myself not to cry. I quickly re-read her messages before heading to shower.

Standing up with a sigh, I stripped as I made my way to the bathroom. I was filthy. Derek and I had chased the unsub through the rainy streets of Chicago. Derek clearly knew the streets a lot better than I did, he grew up there after all. But it did us no good. The unsub was far more familiar with the area than we were. I had gotten within two feet of him. I could nearly feel the back of his hoodie on my fingertips as I reached for him. But I missed. I tumbled over my feet and splashed in a muddy puddle.

I slammed my wet suit on the floor of the bathroom with a wet splat. I cranked the water as hot as it would go. I wanted to scrub this day off of me. I wanted to scrub every mistake I made today. I wanted to purge myself of the images of this case. But I knew they would stick with me for the foreseeable future.

I only felt slightly better after my shower. I picked up my phone once more as I towel dried my hair. Though I hadn't expected a new message from India, I was disappointed nonetheless to see no notifications. I crawled in bed and opened the album with her selfies. I scrolled through, starting from the first selfies I saved from her SugarBook profile. She was so perfect. Tears burned my eyes as I made it to the most recent photo from last night's concert. Her eyes sparkled with excitement and affection. There wasn't a thing I wouldn't do to make her look like that again.

I groaned and clicked my phone off. I wanted to give her the world, but instead, all I could provide her was a life of dull social functions and me being in and out for work. We needed a vacation; she deserved a weekend away. I'd have to ask Hotch if I could take some time off. In the meantime, I would have to wait this out. I vowed to catch the bastard that tortured these women.

______________________________

I woke up with a start, shooting straight up. My loud "INDI NO" echoed around my hotel room. My heart thudded in my chest as if I really had just chased the unsub for blocks like I had in my dream. I had been too late in my dream. I watched the unsub ruin her perfect skin with cuts right in front of me, the autopsy photos fueling my subconscious. I drew my gun to stop him from cutting her throat out and stood idly by as my bullets did nothing to him. I wasn't enough to save India.

Without even checking the time, I was calling Indi. Straight to voicemail once again. I exhaled shakily and pushed my bangs off my sweaty forehead. My hand fell limply next to me, reaching for empty sheets. I longed for my hand to feel Indi's warmth as she snored softly next to me.

A soft knock sounded against my door, interrupting my late-night yearning. "Em?" I heard JJ call through the door. I rolled my eyes. There was no way I would be opening that up.

I clambered out of bed to splash water on my flushed face. As I looked up into the mirror, into my own eyes, I searched desperately for whatever India saw in them. What was it that drew her to me? What was it she saw in there? Lord knows I couldn't see it.

______________________________

Indi🥰: Good morning, Em. I'm SO sorry I didn't wake for your calls last night. Are you okay?! One at 12 and one at 3? I wish you were sleeping more. I'm worried about you…Anyway, I hope you have a good day. I'll be thinking about you 💖

Her good morning text brought a soft smile to my face. I only wished it would last me the entire day, but after yesterday, I wasn't naive enough to think I wouldn't need to call her later. I dialed her for the millionth time in less than 24 hours, and to my immense relief, she answered.

"Morning, babe!" She was so chipper, it caught me off guard. I had a night plagued by gruesome nightmares, and she was bright and sunny.

"Indi," I breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank you for answering, baby. How did you sleep?"

"Just fine, Em. Can you tell me what's going on? Why are you so…" she trailed off looking for the right word. Psychotic? Neurotic? Paranoid? Clingy? "High-strung?"

"I'm fine, angel," I lied. "Please don't worry about me."

"Kind of hard when you want to talk all day. You're being…you just don't seem like yourself." I sighed. She was right, and I wasn't convincing her that I was fine. "Look, babe, I'm so sorry. I know you're stressed about something, but I need to head to class…"

"Yes of course!" I said emphatically. I didn't want her missing class just to cater to my paranoia. "I'm sorry baby. Please have a good class."

We said our goodbyes, and I finished getting ready for the day. Starting my day by hearing Indi's voice made a huge difference. Today, I lasted a whole hour without being a neurotic lunatic. But throughout the day, I was constantly on my phone checking for updates from her. I called her at lunch and dinner. None of the team said anything, all recognizing why this case was so difficult for me. JJ had tried to no avail.

"What?" she snarked. "Can't go a few hours without talking to her? You scared she'll find someone-" I opened my mouth to respond but Hotch walked in the room. His eyebrows furrowed in a cross scowl as he glared at JJ. I flashed my eyes to him in gratitude, but in true Hotch fashion, he ignored it.

"Let's go. I got a lead on this unsub. We got a tip: a witness saw a man matching the unsub's description abducting a woman near the warehouse district."

"I'll add this new geographical point and cross-reference," Spencer piped up.

I wished I could have moved, but I stood frozen in my place. He had gotten another victim. Another woman. Another family was going to lose their Indi because we couldn't catch this guy fast enough.

"Prentiss!" Hotch barked. "Let's go." Everyone had already filed out of the tiny conference room.

We all piled in one SUV, leaving Spencer behind to narrow the geographic profile. We were counting on him to find a warehouse in time. He stayed on speakerphone while we raced to the warehouse district. Everything was riding on Reid. "Spence!" JJ yelled harshly on the phone. "We need a location. Take a guess."

"I don't really do that." I tasted blood in my mouth from biting my fingernails down to the quick. I never needed to catch an unsub more.

"Well start," she snapped. "We're circling the warehouse district right now."

"Lay off," Rossi chided from the front seat. I couldn't help but think he had a short fuse with JJ now that he knew our history. "Reid, which are the most likely few? Let's narrow from there. Tell me the points of overlap."

"There are two," he informed. And then he was talking a mile a minute. I tried to keep up, but I honestly couldn't focus. I tuned him out, my thoughts running away from me as fast as Reid's brain was thinking. What if it were Indi in that warehouse? What if we were too late? He had her for hours now. "I got it!" his reverie pulled me from my morbid worries.

Reid directed us to a long-abandoned warehouse bordering an open field. We stormed the warehouse, guns drawn. But as soon as we rounded a corner, a blood-curdling, terrified scream echoed around the cement room. My stomach knotted around nothing. Had I eaten lunch, I would have vomited right there. I had never heard Indi scream like that, but I couldn't help but imagine that it would sound exactly like the victim's.

We pushed forward, eyes trained for any signs of movement. I stayed back. While normally I would lead the charge, I didn't trust myself to refrain from discharging my weapon prematurely. I'd let the rest of the team lead the push. "FBI! Put your hands in the air!" Derek shouted.

I kept my gun trained on the sick son of a bitch that did unspeakable things to women. The crazed yet vacant look in his eyes turned my stomach. He was getting off on the blood dripping from his knife.

"Please help me!" she shouted. Before I could stop myself, I raced towards her. The unsub was not secure yet. In the back of my mind, I knew it was a poor decision. Charging forward was reckless. He was holding a weapon. Decisions like these got agents hurt. Luckily, Derek made a split-second decision and shadowed me. He intercepted the unsub before the unsub got me. His quick thinking allowed me to take care of the victim.

"You're safe now," I reassured her. "He won't touch you again."

______________________________

When we got back to the hotel, I sat down to call Indi. It had been hours since I had heard from her. I had one text from her at lunch, and nothing since. Her sweet voice chirped over the phone about leaving her a message. Before I could leave a message, someone knocked at my door. I hung up the phone and stood up to answer the door.

I opened the door and Hotch blazed through. "What were you thinking?" he demanded to know.

"What?" I asked dumbly.

"You could have gotten yourself killed. I didn't say anything at the scene because the rest of the team was around. I know this was a hard case for you, but that was stupid. And you know it." I couldn't argue with him. It was stupid. I could have gotten seriously injured. If not for Morgan, I could have ended up maimed or even killed. But the thought of someone leaving Indi in that position if she were a victim forced me forward. I didn't have a satisfactory answer for him.

His voice softened. "Look. I've given you a lot of leeway this case-"

"I know, sir. I'm really grate-" He held a hand up to stop me.

"I'm not asking for excuses or reasons. I know why. I shouldn't have called you back for this one." My stomach sank. While I knew I hadn't done my best work this case, I didn't want to be a liability to the team; I didn't want to let Hotch down. "I need this not to happen again."

"I understand," I answered dejectedly. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." I didn't know if I could keep that promise, but it seemed to appease Hotch.

"See to it that it doesn't." His face softened gradually, a subtle switch from cold boss to the man who I knew cared for each of us dearly. "Are you okay?" I sighed. I wished everyone would stop asking me that. I had no answer for them.

I blew out a puff of air and nodded stiffly. Hotch cocked his head to the side, his tell that he wasn't buying what he was hearing. "I'll be okay," I answered truthfully. "I just need to get home. I just need to see her."

This time he accepted my answer. Not one for emotional conversations, he nodded stiffly and said, "Wheels up in about an hour. Don't be late," he commanded. And then he turned and walked out.

As soon as the door clicked behind Hotch, my phone was back in my phone to call Indi again. She didn't answer, nor did she respond to my texts. The relief I felt at catching the unsub vanished as fast as it came. Where could she be? Why wasn't she picking up? She had been so good the last few days, obviously sensing my unease. I piled my clothes in my duffel bag, not caring about wrinkling my suits. My mood was dour the entire way to the air strip.

I had a brief reprieve from my apprehension when I convinced myself that the plane was messing with my reception. Even though it had never been an issue before and we had wifi on the plane, the explanation made me feel better. But after about ten minutes, I heard Rossi on the phone, softly speaking to another. His gentle, concerned voice caused a flare of jealousy to course through my body. I wished I could hear Indi's voice.

Even worse, I had no notifications waiting for me even after we had landed. I impatiently waited for my phone to vibrate as I made my way to the parking lot. I obsessively, recklessly checked my phone while I was driving home. As each minute passed without word from Indi, panic swelled inside me.

______________________________

"Indi?!" I shouted as I burst through the back door. I threw my bag and keys in the general direction of the kitchen island. Who knew where they actually ended up? I didn't hear her respond. I hadn't received a text from her all afternoon, either. "INDI!" I yelled again.

I frantically ran upstairs, my footfalls beating as loud as my heart. Jogging down the hallway, I blew past my room, heading straight for hers. The lights were out, and her room looked undisturbed. Her bed was made neatly, her school bag in its spot in the corner. The only thing seemingly out of place was her guitar laying in the middle of her bed. That and the fact that she seemed to be missing.

My breaths expelled rapidly and loudly. My heart thudded in my chest as I started to hyperventilate. I flipped on the light as if that would make her materialize in front of me. "INDIA!" I screamed, panic causing my voice to break.

"Emily?" I heard from behind me. I whipped around so rapidly, it nearly made me dizzy. Tears pricked behind my eyes at seeing her perfect face, her brows creased in concern. In two strides, I was down the hall and pulling her into my arms.

I exhaled shakily, every tear I forced myself to suck back up this case now falling freely. To hide my tears, I buried my face in her hair. She smelled so sweet. She felt like home. I pulled her impossibly closer; I didn't care if it was too tight. I reveled in her being safe in my arms. Now that I could see with my own two eyes, feel with my own two arms, that she was truly safe, it all seemed so ridiculous. She had never been in any danger. The unsub was in Chicago. But rationality left my brain entirely this case. "Fuck," I muttered.

She started to pull back, cupping my face and gazing at me with huge, sympathetic eyes. Tears swam down my face in full force. I should have been embarrassed, but I was too glad to be home with her. She didn't say anything, but her eyes were filled with understanding. Silently, gently, she wiped my endless tears from my cheeks. Her touch was unbearably caring. Never having had such support and affection, I hadn't realized I was desperately in need of it this case. I hadn't realized how much I had needed Indi's sanctuary.

I leaned down to rest my forehead against hers. My breathing had started to regulate – matched to the timing of Indi's – but there wasn't a thing I could do about these tears. "Indi," I gasped.

"I'm here, Em." Her arms wrapped around my neck as she lifted up to kiss me softly. "I'm right here, babe." I kissed her forehead again, my tears finally slowing.

"I drew you a bath," she whispered. "Would that help you relax?"

I pulled her closer as if she were threatening to pull away. "Only if you stay," I responded in mild alarm. I couldn't stand the idea of her leaving me alone. "Please, baby. Please just let me hold you."

"Of course I'll stay with you." She pecked me on the lips. "I'll do whatever you need."

We awkwardly made our way through my room to my huge tub. I didn't dare let her go. I wanted her glued to my side. She leaned down to stick her fingers in the water. "Still warm," she informed. I pulled her back in my arms. "Em," she started softly. "We have to get undressed."

Reluctantly I let her go. As soon as my hands could no longer feel her soft skin, I felt my heart rate increase. I tried to breathe deeply. It was ridiculous; I could see her a foot away from me. I whipped my clothes off. The faster I could get in the tub, the faster she'd join me.

There was something sacrilegious about her taking her own clothes off. I wanted to do it for her. It was my job to do it for her. I grabbed her wrists unbuttoning her jeans and put them back at her sides. I kissed her collarbones while I pushed her jeans over her wide hips. I crouched to continue to pull her pants down her legs, kissing her hip bones along the way.

As I stood up, I placed small kisses against her skin. I sucked slightly on her neck. "Thank you, baby," I whispered. I stepped over the ledge of the tub and sank down into the warm water. I opened my legs, and India settled between them. I sighed as I pulled her closer to me. I grabbed a scrunchie from the side of the tub, left from the last time we took a bath together. I gathered her thick curls and piled them on top of her head. Once I had ensured her hair wouldn't fall down into the water, I placed a tender kiss where the top of her spine met her neck.

"Mmm," she hummed in pleasure. "Thank you, babe."

Neither of us spoke after that. It was enough for me to just hold her, feel her warm and safe in my arms. Mindlessly, I placed quick pecks to her head, shoulder, neck. I kissed anywhere I could reach. My hands traced patterns into her skin under the water while she laid against me. This closeness was exactly what I needed.

I lost myself in my cacophonous mind. I heard the screams of the last victim ringing in my mind as loud as they had been in the warehouse. I heard them as if the victim were screaming in my bathroom. I centered myself back in the present moment. The silence in my bathroom was a stark contrast from the noise in my head. I guess Indi couldn't take anymore silence, because after a few minutes, she asked, "What happened, baby?"

I steeled myself with a deep breath. India deserved an explanation for my behavior this week. "It was a rough case." It did not capture just how terrible the case was, but I needed to start somewhere. She shifted sideways so she could press her lips to my neck. It gave me the strength to continue. As I spoke, her fingers ghosted up and down my arm. She scooped water and splashed the skin above the water line, keeping me warm. "Our unsub was kidnapping, torturing, mutilating, and raping the victims."

"Oh," she gasped.

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't have to go into detail. I know it's heavy."

"NO! I'm sorry, babe. I just," she paused, "You've just never gone into detail on a case like this. It just startled me, that's all. Please don't lock this up. Let me help you carry this weight."

"Well, that isn't anything new," I continued. "We've dealt with worse unsubs, to be honest. But this case was so hard because -" I swallowed thickly. Each autopsy photo flashing in front of my eyes in rapid succession. "Well," my voice dropped to a whisper, "The victims looked exactly like you." I paused again. And like the most morbid slideshow, cuts into light mocha skin and bruised bodies started flashing again. Dark chocolate, terrified eyes blazed back at me from photos I would never forget. Positive results from rape kits in each victim's medical file haunted me. I couldn't escape it. My brain superimposed Indi's face over each victim's face. "Exactly like you, Indi," I whispered hoarsely.

"And the entire case I was so worried," I continued. "I've never had to worry about anyone else. Hell, I've never cared if anything happened to myself, either. But you've changed everything, love. I know exactly how ugly and dangerous this world is. I know exactly how fragile you are." I pulled her closer, tucking my face into the crook of her neck. "I'd lose it if something happened to you, angel. This case reminded me that I have so much to lose now." I squeezed her softly.

I took a few beats to regain my composure. She never rushed me. She waited patiently for me to resume. "Rationally, I know you're safe here. I saw your texts flood in. Thank you for doing that, by the way," I added as an aside. "But I couldn't help but panic about you being taken from me. You are so precious to me. What if I got to you too late? What if I couldn't save you? What if-"

"Hey hey!" she interrupted. "None of that happened, Em. I'm here; I'm safe. Don't dwell on that. I'm safe with you." She kissed under my jaw as her hand ran up my chest. She was twisted so awkwardly trying to comfort me, so I picked her up, closed my legs, and put her on my lap. She curled her legs to her chest to fit sideways in the tub. I cradled her delicately.

She made everything better; she healed every wound. I tipped her head back and kissed her softly. I cupped the back of her neck to ensure she couldn't go anywhere. My heart rate finally settled back to normal. Whereas normally her kiss excited me, zapping it into overdrive, tonight it calmed me. Tonight, she soothed my worn edges.

I pulled back, startled. "Why did you draw a bath in here?" It had just dawned on me that Indi seemed to have expected I would need a little extra support tonight. How had she known this was exactly what I needed when I hadn't even known it myself? "How did you know I was going to be home?"

She chuckled, her breath tickling the side of my neck. "I, uh," she said nervously, "I may have gotten a call from one of your coworkers."

"Who?!" I asked in outrage.

"Calm down, babe. They didn't say anything." She kissed my jaw to placate me. "They just told me this case took a toll on you – like I couldn't see that one for myself," she said sarcastically. "And that you might need a little extra comfort tonight."

"Rossi," I hissed like a curse.

"Don't be mad at him, please, Emily. It was sweet for him to call."

"He likes you, you know," I told her. Rossi had a soft spot for me. He was thrilled I found someone who made me smile so much. "He's happy I found someone so special."

She cupped my face delicately. "You're pretty special yourself, Em." I love you, I love you, I love you I chanted in my head. I nearly blurted it out loud, but the fear of her running away and locking herself in her room again caused me to refrain. I would have to continue showing her any other way I could. My heart fell when I thought about today's date. We had one month left together. Hopefully, I could convince her to stay before our final month was up.

_ _ _

Continue to next chapter

#🌬 fics #tastes like sugar #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x oc #emily prentiss fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds au #wlw writing

15 notes · View notes

ancestorsofjudah · 5 months

Text

2 Kings 10: 18-24. "The Eighty Men."

King Jehu, a former military commander and Official in the Temple is anointed by Elisha, the prophet to become a king and destroy lock, stock, and barrell all threats to the people of Israel in their vicinity. The former kings, Ahab, his wife Jezebel, and neighbors Joram and Ahaziah, violent and corrupt, idolators and whoremongers to the last moments of their lives wrecked everything, and God decided there was a price to pay for this.

He tells Jehu to kill everyone involved- shepherds, priests, army men, all of them to the last man, and this he does. We have an Ahab and Jezebel of our own- Donald Trump and that dozy cow, Paula White Cain, and the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints are their corrupt shepherds, and certainly Hamas needs no honorable mentions.

The War in Gaza must not end till every last man, woman, child, all of the persons that organized what was meant to be a lethal strike against the people of Israel from Gaza to the West Bank are held accountable.

In America, our government must also be told it has no choice but to respond to the crimes and filth of the Trump era that are lingering to pollute our lives must be dealt with using lethal force. The same sentiment needs to apply in Syria, Afghanistan and Ukraine. You don't watch mechanized terror show up on someone's doorstep one day blow their houses, streets, families, and roads apart and do nothing. That is wrong.

As for things here in DC, how is it the DC City Council and Mayor couldn't find the time to go and close the Family Research Council down after all the evil they have done to the people of this world? The number of their violations of the City Charter would decorate both of one's sleeves. What about all the Pro-Life terrorism and election fraud you have allowed?

What the hell is going on?

The good and gracious people on this world are depending on fierce demonstrations of Justice and their needs must be met, all threats to their happiness must be executed as the Melachim states.

Before we go on, we need to define what Ba'al is. Ba'al is not a tiki god like they show on the Simpsons.

youtube

Ba'al means "god on the ground." Anyone can become a Ba'al. Our Ba'als are Donald Trump, Vladimir Putin, those giant nacho chili cheese beer farts on Fox News, etc. who you better believe knew Donald Trump cheated in that 2016 election and schcrews little kids for kix.

Ba'als are persons that claim to be in the know but know nothing, are in power because they snuck in and have been chased out again, and exhibit clear contrasts to behaviors prescribed by leaders named in secular and sacred laws.

They must never, ever be allowed to live:

Servants of Baal Killed

18 Then Jehu brought all the people together and said to them, “Ahab served Baal a little; Jehu will serve him much.

19 Now summon all the prophets of Baal, all his servants and all his priests. See that no one is missing, because I am going to hold a great sacrifice for Baal. Anyone who fails to come will no longer live.” But Jehu was acting deceptively in order to destroy the servants of Baal.

20 Jehu said, “Call an assembly in honor of Baal.” So they proclaimed it.

21 Then he sent word throughout Israel, and all the servants of Baal came; not one stayed away. They crowded into the temple of Baal until it was full from one end to the other.

22 And Jehu said to the keeper of the wardrobe, “Bring robes for all the servants of Baal.” So he brought out robes for them.

23 Then Jehu and Jehonadab son of Rekab went into the temple of Baal. Jehu said to the servants of Baal, “Look around and see that no one who serves the Lord is here with you—only servants of Baal.”

24 So they went in to make sacrifices and burnt offerings. Now Jehu had posted eighty men outside with this warning: “If one of you lets any of the men I am placing in your hands escape, it will be your life for his life.”

Jehu and his Beau, the chariot driver, Jehonadab of Rekab assign 80 men to kill the priests of Baal, whom he orders to get ready to meet their maker. Why did he do this? Let us find out.

v. 18: the Value in Gematria is 6669, וווט, wot, "a small array of inquisitive particles."

There are four separate roots אוה ('wh), two of which produce words that are spelled אי ('i). One of these roots yields the word או ('aw), meaning desire, which is spelled the same as an unrelated conjunction או ('o), which conveys an alternative or exception. The identical particle אי ('i) describes negation, and so does the possibly related substantive אין ('ayin).

Then there are two more words that are identical to the two previously mentioned: אי ('i). Then there is the similarly spelled interrogative adverb אי ('ay), which spawns a small array of inquisitive particles.

v. 19: the Value in Gematria is 9245, טבדה, tabeda, "to sink into the testimony".

v. 20-21: the Value in Gematria is 11222, יאב‎‎ב‎ב‎, "I love you".

v. 22: the Value in Gematria is 5978, הט‎זח‎ , the tzah, "the Command."

"The two roots צוה (swh) and ציה (syh) are similar in form but their meanings (either to command or to be dry) don't come close. Still, for some reason, the Bible's symbolic structure appears to insist on a relation between the two: One of the two names of the mountain upon which Moses received the Law from God, is Horeb, which means Dry Place. Also note that the word Torah comes from a verb that also yields a word for rain.

Perhaps the notion of a dry place taps into the creation account, and specifically the third day, or into the account of Noah's flood. A dry place is not a place where people die of thirst, but rather a place where the sea is no more, after it has given all her treasures (REVELATION 21:1)."

v. 23: the Value in Gematria is 12878, יבחז‎ח‎, yabzahk, "God's lightning."

The unused Hebrew verb בזק (bazaq) probably meant to scatter (it does so in Aramaic). Noun בזק (bazaq) probably describes a lightning bolt — but this in reference to its zig-zag nature rather than its heat, illumination or thunderous noise.

v. 24: the Value in Gematria is 13264, יגבוד‎‎, "I will be honored."

We are charged by God He and His Torah are to be the only sources of Truth on this world. A government that defies these Orders, that kills, lies, commits adultery, rapes little kids, defies God and cannot be permitted to operate. It must be dressed up in all of its criminal charges and dispatched forthwith without mercy.

#Youtube

0 notes

wrenthemoralfander · 10 months

Text

My Dc Au

Gotham: Jaded City (this is where I just ramble facts about the DC characters in the story.)

Trigger Warning: mentions of murder, referenced child abuse, theft, burning someone alive, mutilation, forced drugging, suicide, damage of property, toxic family are mentioned

(Two Face)

Best friends with the Riddler. Like these two are best friends. They have known each other since high school.

Two Face hates Amanda Waller because she keeps screwing him over.

Harvey Is rich, due to his hard work in college, and his work as a lawyer. Harvey spends his money. Two Face, unlike Harvey, is smart enough to save the money and hide in a place where Harvey can’t find it.

Hates Cobblepot, but seemingly likes tolerates Sionis.

Loves Lasagna. Like he would eat that shit for days.

Has an allergy to cumin. He doesn’t know why he has this allergy, but he does.

Harvey usually cleaned his coin after he flipped it too much to make a decision. If however it starts to get rusty, he replaces it. This seems to satisfy Two-Face

Doesn’t trust Lady Shiva. Why? He’s worried she’s going to hurt his best friend. Two Face hasn’t killed her, yet…

(The Riddler)

Full name is Edward “Luis” Alonzo Nashton.

Is of Latino heritage.

Had a bad upbringing.

Is a single father of a young boy named Cody. Cody’s mother is dead, after committing self termination.

Is one of the more feared villains in Gotham. For a few good reasons.

Is one of the few Gotham villains who have managed to capture the Batman, but one of the the only two Gotham villains who successfully made the Batman question his thoughts on Riddler.

Killed the villain Killer Frost, all because she tried to hit his son. When the Batman asked why, he said “So… here’s the thing, Batman. I don’t like kids, can’t stand them. Yet, even I wouldn’t stoop so low. You see where I came from, if you hit a kid, and that kid was your own flesh and blood, it meant you were teaching them discipline. If you hit a kid, and that kid wasn’t your own… Well nobody stuck around to find out what that meant. The people who hit kids that weren’t theirs? They were dealt with. I learned that from the elders. As to why? She tried to hurt a kid, and besides… I was just doing what the elders taught me.” He stopped her, knocked her out, chained her up, poured a lithium formula on her, surrounded her with wood, and lit the wood on the fire. She couldn’t use her powers because her hands were covered in an antifreeze like powder. He dragged her death out and laughed as she started screaming.

Used to work in the law industry. No longer does as he went to pursue his own path.

Despite not liking kids, he’s actually a really good dad. Makes Cody some lunch, takes care of him when he’s sick, helps Cody with school, praises Cody for his drawings/accomplishments, tries not to be out committing crimes so much, speaks highly of Cody’s mother, and tells Cody she would’ve been proud of him, and will drop everything for his child.

Yet, Ed worries he is not a good fighter. The reason he’s worried he’s not a good father, is due to Edward’s relationship with his own father and sometimes he has nightmares. His nightmares will go from beating his father to death, to finding Cody near dead in the old man’s place. Due to these nightmares, he often wakes up in a panic, checks on Cody before locking himself in his office, not sleeping for the whole night.

Steals money and saves half of it to put it in a bank account to support his son for college. A quarter of that money goes to bills, and the rest is for Riddler.

Has severe religious trauma. Like he will not attend church, but he’s very polite and respectful about it.

He hates leaving his son alone, sometimes he’ll skip the criminal activity, but if his work truly demands him, he’ll hire a babysitter and pay them a generous amount if they do a good job.

He has killed several innocent people. Some of these people skipped babysitting in favor of going to a party. These people who were found brutally mutilated and deceased in alleyways. He’s also killed people who witnessed crime scenes, because he keeps getting told ‘not to leave any witnesses.’

Actively make sure his son is safe and happy. Ed doesn’t involve his son any crimes because it’s the fastest way to ensure Cody either gets killed or taken away from him.

His cane is a weaponized cane. He can go from a cane to a taser, to a full blown sword. Yes, he has stabbed people with this. No, he is not sorry.

Has slaughtered a room full of cops before, but have left no clues, as with the GCPD…? He doesn’t take the risk.

Riddler’s victims if they are smart, but failed to use their brains, are often killed in gory and gruesome ways, so sometimes they are left mutilated. This is because he expects his victims to be aware they cannot afford to screw up, as he reminds them constantly that their lives are on the line.

Ed also doesn’t like playing with his food, unless his victims are interesting, he does not like it.

Has a thing for Lady Shiva and for Jason Todd.

(Poison Ivy)

Her outfit is a live floral ball gown. I am literally not joking, it can turn into a literal poison ball gown. Her outfit is made of nature despite being a ball gown.

Pamela is Poison Ivy by tradition. All the woman and her family before her happen poison ivy since her great grandmother. She is the only one who isn’t evil.

Pamela loves kids, absolutely adores them. She doesn’t like adults, because of what they teach the kids.

Works as a daycare worker and as a gardener.

Has three types of pollen. The first is special pollen that can help people understand her plants. The second is pollen that cure is the person of any ailment/wound. The third is a toxin that allows her to hypnotize people. She is working on the fourth one which will be the powder that poisons her enemies.

Has a PhD in English, botany, and biology.

Despite what people say about her, she’s not a villain. She’s an antihero. She does not believe in following the rules of the GCPD but she wants to help Gotham.

Has little fireflies in a lantern on her belt that she freeze every night. Surprisingly however, they always come back to the lantern.

Makes snacks for people.

Often styles her hair because she doesn’t like people touching it. It makes her uncomfortable for some odd reason. She normally doesn’t mind Selina doing it but anyone else? If anyone else does it, and they may get poisoned.

The first time Batman met her, she had saved a young Dick Grayson from meeting his fate by penguin’s men. She healed him and patched him up, so when Dick told her she was grateful for her help, Pamela told him it was no big deal.

Batman was skeptical of her. She understood as Gotham was full of tricks and surprises, and trusting others was risky.

Loves the rain. She doesn’t like when it storms but she loves it when it rains. She will dance and play in the rain, often getting soaked much to the disappointment of her roommates Selina.

Her roommate is Selina Kyle. They talk about everything.

(Johnathan Crane)

Is arguably one of the scariest villains in Gotham.

He was scientist who’s work was mocked by the people of Gotham, and due to his family’s peer pressure to be perfect, he slowly went berserk.

Has made people go insane from his fear toxin.

Is an anarchist, and loves when his fear can invoke riots.

With how much he loathes the city, one would think scarecrow could never find happiness. This is far from true, as he has a fiancé named Alicia.

Alicia is the one woman that brings him happiness.

Alicia does not know he’s a criminal. He would prefer it if it stayed that way. (Although he doesn’t know she’s a criminal either)

Alicia and Jonathan have both agreed if they do have kids, they will have two kids. So far, both are uncertain if they want kids.

He has a M.D. in medicine, psychology, and in Crainotomy (surgery of head trauma).

Due to being diagnosed with strider, he has a raspy voice and is unable to breathe as well.

Respects and fears Riddler and for good reason. Listen, you would think that Scarecrow, Gotham’s bringer of fear and paranoia, would not fear someone as petty as Edward? The thing is, there’s only so far Jonathan would go. Jonathan was there when Riddler murdered Killer Frost. While he respects Riddler for handling Frost’s powers correctly and preventing her from hurting a child, he fears Riddler due to how brutal and how long Ed drew her death out.

While Crane plays with his food to better understands his victims, Edward does not. So when he dragged out her death, Crane was scared for his life.

(Deadshot)

Gotham’s greatest assassin.

Is efficient with firearms, blades, and poison.

Floyd does have two sons, and one daughter.

His wife, Wyona is working as hard as she can to support the family. Despite’s Wyona’s job paying super well, she’s always worried about what if they don’t have enough. Floyd actually tries his hardest to be there. Unlike Riddler, he’s not great at time management, but does manage as best he can.

Can poison a drink without notice, and cover his tracks. This is to ensure his targets (and GCPD) won’t trace it back to him.

Thanks to his line of work, and being born into the rich class, Floyd and his wife are rich. His wife keeps telling them even though they are wealthy, they should not take it for granted.

Despite being born into the wealthy class though, Deadshot does not like the upper class, so he targets them on a semi-weekly basis.

One of his sons, Devine (Da-vee-en) has autism, and is non verbal. Floyd uses a device to help his son communicate what he wants, yet he reminds his son that Devine does not have to use it if he does not want to.

Floyd is afraid of spiders. They make him uncomfortable. He can’t stand them, but he does like them when it’s a plush one that his son gives him.

When he’s not killing people, he’s making plushies for his kids… Especially his son Devine.

He has told his kids they are never too old for a stuffed animal.

He sews his kids clothes as some store bought fabrics makes the itchy. His other son, Terrence, likes wearing dresses. His daughter, Sierra loves fancy hats.

(Wyona “Anne” James Lawton/“Serenity”)

Deadshot’s wife, and the retired Gotham hero “Serenity”.

They met in a church and as she was turning to leave after a prayer, she walked up to Floyd and whispered in his ear, “I’m very grateful for the assassin who took Carmine Falcone’s life.”

Her family in severe debt thanks to Don Falcone, but when he was assassinated, they no longer owed him and his men anything.

They had three kids despite being told by doctors that Wyona would never make it through the pregnancy.

She is very hard-working, very responsible, and always knows to plan ahead.

She changed her name to Wyona to cut off her family. Mainly because of her father, Felix. The main two being that one, Wyona’s family didn’t come to her wedding because Felix, her father said Floyd fidn’t have his blessing. The second reason was because her father tried to get her to give all her savings to him, and when she didn’t, he destroyed her laptop. Floyd, when he found out why Wyona couldn’t communicate with him, bought her a new laptop pro with a four year warranty on it. Thankfully, she never lost hope that she would escape a terrible place… and in a way, she did escape.

Due to the neglect and abuse that Wyona faced of a child, she has leg issues, and has a vision impairment which makes it hard to see.

She hasn’t told her husband she was once a Gotham hero.

She knows Floyd is Deadshot. She knows he is Gotham’s greatest assassin, but is worried that he’ll be upset with her.

She is in and out of hospitals due to having poor health, and feels terrible for her husband, but he is patient with her because he knows it’s not her fault.

Wyona struggles with self-love. Her husband is there for her though.

Bonus: She is only retired due to her vision impairment which got worse as time went on, which made her job significantly harder. Her leg was not an issue for her as she found a way to manage the pain it caused her.

————————

Part two will contain the following:

Alicia Grey

Alfred Pennyworth

Zatanna Zatara

Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter

Detective Nora Fries of GCPD

Mr. Freeze

#my dc au #headcanon #tw assault #tw murder #tw nightmares #tw mass murder #tw poison #tw burned alive #tw childhood trauma #tw mention of murder #tw shitty parents #Listen Deadshot’s wife exists mainly because I grew up with divorced parents and I hated it.#I removed Professor Pyg because I don’t know how to write schizophrenia and don’t wanna make assumptions #jaded city two face #jaded city riddler #jaded city poison ivy #jaded city deadshot #jaded city serenity

0 notes

fandom-hoard · 11 months

Text

ChatGPT writes a confrontation between Jason Todd and the Joker

Prompt: Write a conversation between Jason Todd and the Joker

Response: “Justice vs Chaos”

Jason Todd: *enters a dimly lit room with the Joker restrained in a chair* Well, well, well... Look who's finally back in town. Joker, I've been waiting a long time for this.

Joker: *laughs maniacally* Ah, Jason my boy! It's been too long, hasn't it? I must say, I missed our little tête-à-têtes. What brings you to my humble abode?

Jason Todd: Cut the act, Joker. You know exactly why I'm here. You took everything from me, my family, my life. And now, it's time for you to pay.

Joker: *leans back in the chair* Oh, dear Jason, I never took anything from you. Your dear ol' Bat-daddy failed you, didn't he? Couldn't save you from a crowbar. How disappointing.

Jason Todd: You think that's funny, Joker? Killing me and parading around like you're some kind of clown prince of crime?

Joker: *smirks* Well, it did bring a smile to my face, Jason. You were always so serious, so eager to please your daddy. But deep down, you had a little darkness in you too, didn't you? That's why you're here now, seeking vengeance.

Jason Todd: You're right, Joker. I do have darkness inside me. But unlike you, I use it for justice. I've become something more, something you never expected.

Joker: *chuckles* Oh, I love a good redemption story. But let me tell you a secret, Jason. There is no redemption. Once you've crossed that line, there's no going back. You'll always be one bad day away from becoming just like me.

Jason Todd: *gritting his teeth* You're wrong, Joker. I won't become like you. I'll make sure you never hurt anyone again.

Joker: Oh, the noble vigilante, the punisher. How predictable. Tell me, Jason, what are you going to do? Are you going to kill me? Give in to that darkness?

Jason Todd: No, Joker. Killing you won't solve anything. It won't bring me peace. But locking you up, ensuring you can't hurt anyone ever again, that's justice.

Joker: *laughs uproariously* Justice? Oh, Jason, you really are amusing. Locking me up won't change a thing. There will always be chaos, always be someone ready to take my place. You can't stop it.

Jason Todd: Maybe not, but I can damn well try. I won't let you win, Joker. Not again.

Joker: *smirks* Oh, my dear Jason, you've already lost. You've lost your innocence, your hope. And now, you're just another pawn in this mad game we play. But don't worry, I'll be waiting for you on the other side.

Jason Todd: We'll see about that, Joker. This ends now.

[The conversation comes to an intense pause as Jason Todd contemplates his next move, knowing that capturing the Joker won't erase the pain and loss he has endured, but determined to prevent further harm.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay but this actually reads like something DC would actually put together

#jason todd #the joker #dc comics #chatgtp #I speak

1 note · View note

electronicrebeleagle · 1 year

Text

Paid for by Friends/Family of Maxwell 4 America Inc./Stephen C. Maxwell for President of the United States of America. If we enjoy our freedoms, It is MANDATORY that: 1. TSA Leave all United States Airports-Search and Seizure without Warrants Constitutes Obedience without having to go through the Judicial Process upholding your rights not going to Prison without a Trial when evidence is found. 2. Universal Healthcare must be taken out of play, it brings about socialism, communism and does not give choices, choices mean freedom 3. The United States Postal Service must allow that the DHL, UPS and FedEx be their competitor again, it is the choices of freedom. 4. Narcotics, Alcoholism and Tobacco must be given a Second Look in Government Regulatory Systems, the over lording of persons, only leads to Totalatarianisms, A. If you do not have the money for the Narcotics at the Pimps Price, the Pimp puts you into Sex Slavery for the price of the Narcotics and once your in Sex Slavery (Prostitution) you start racking up debt to them, thus you are not let go but through death, kind of like a gang slaughter, blood in/blood out. B. Alcoholism is mostly the same way, Alcohol is a "feeling" or an "emotion" drink, it "takes away the worries and pains of the day" that you had. It also clouds judgements and you have no idea what happened the previous 12-16 hours of the day. This meaning you could have committed Rape or Murder One and only the "witnessess" of the crime can put you in or out of prison, again, there is a control and lordship of their own government. C. Tobacco- one of the worst kinds of addictions. You keep coming back for more and more and more. Just so rat poison or the very additives within the Tobacco products can take away more and more of your health. Clog up more and more of your alveoli in your Lungs and once a Tumor is in place, its "well the Surgeon General (Washington DC Tobacco Overlord, for you 70's kids (Darth Vader) said it "may cause cancer" ; "that really is not our problem, so why exactly are you suing us again"? (Set up, bait and switch and the ever so wonderful, "We are innocent of this person's blood" "We have no idea what they are talking about". "We believe that the Tobacco may have gotten to their brain cells and perhaps now they are hallucinating all this". According to the Tobacco companies who pay off the famous 535: "Only the Government should make these kind of calls not "WE THE PEOPLE" , Private Citizens don't know what they want, these are who are becoming rebellious against their nation and causing treason and death sentences, the private citizens should really shut their mouths" Are you not that interested in the "Big 3" any further? They are the ones who are leaking this trash and they are the ones who are paying for TOTALATARIANISM. "SAFETY NOT LIBERTY" TYPE GARBAGE. Lets take another hard look and see if Freedoms cannot be restored and this false doctrine of Security be sent back to Hell where all Lies belong!!! Paid for/Approved by Stephen C. Maxwell, POTUS Candidate 2028, by the Friends/Family of Maxwell 4 America, Inc./Stephen C. Maxwell for President of the United States of America, 11/7/2028.

0 notes

jamesmarry1827 · 2 years

Text

An East Coast Adventure:your complete itinerary

East Coast cities such as New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Washington, DC. You can visit these cities by booking your cheap flight ticket from Flightsaticket. You can also take Amtrak trains between the cities and have a local private guide who can introduce you to the cities. If you are planning a tour to the east coast, then you are at the right place. This itinerary will guide you on how you can spend your days while travelling peacefully. This itinerary will allow you to discover everything from Broadway shows and foodie delights. This is only a guideline. All services can be customized to meet your specific travel needs.

Day 1-Reach To New York

In New York (LGA/JFK) and New Jersey (EWR), passengers can use the complimentary shuttle service from the airport, which runs between 8:30 am and 12:00 pm. International flight passengers will wait for their travel host at the Passenger Waiver Area. Domestic flight arrivals will meet the travel host in Baggage Claim Area. You can meet your travel host at Baggage Claim Area if you arrive at Terminal 7 at JFK. New Yorkers arriving before 5 pm can travel to Flushing with no cost left luggage. To join the extensive journey towards Jersey Garden Outlets Mall, you must arrive before midnight at EWR airport. All passengers arriving before 4:30 pm can participate in the exclusive Night Tour, which explores the lively nightlife of the Sleepless Town. Night tour fees are $25 per adult and $15 per child.

New York's top attractions

It's the name of a neighbourhood on the east side of New York City. This area is predominantly residential, and downtown flushing is the fourth-largest district in America for central business.

Jersey Gardens Mall, NJ

Jersey Gardens is an indoor mall located in New Jersey. It is primarily a two-story indoor mall with outlets for many shops and stores. Tourists who wish to purchase new items on their trip will find it a great spot.

Manhattan Morning Tour, NY

The Manhattan neighbourhood is densely populated and bordered by the Harlem Rivers and the Hudson Rivers. In addition, it is home to the Empire State Building and Times Square, which are the crossroads of the globe. Manhattan Morning Tour takes you to Manhattan's top-notch attractions at a more relaxed time of day. The famous sights and authentic spirit of this vibrant old town will be revealed to visitors.

New York City Night Tour NY

New York City is a fantastic city. It becomes even more beautiful and lively at night. As it is so exciting, it is recommended that you take a New York City night tour.

Day 2- New York City Tour

Today's group will explore New York City's top landmarks. They will begin at One World Observatory. A Hudson River cruise is available for guests (60 minutes) that highlights the Brooklyn Bridge and Statue of Liberty. Next, the travellers will explore the many supersonic aircraft and airliners at USS Intrepid. Next, you can walk around Wall Street, see the Charging Bull statue, or visit Madame Tussauds wax museum. Then you will visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the country's largest museum, if time permits. As they travel, the group will visit other landmarks in New York, such as Fifth Avenue, Rockefeller Center, World Trade Center, and many more.

Things to do in New York City

1 - Statue of Liberty

The Statue of Liberty has become a landmark in New York City. Therefore, it would be a crime to not pay a visit to this UNESCO World Heritage Site.

Since her unveiling in 1886 as a gift from France to the United States, the neoclassical beauty has been a symbol of democracy and freedom. She towers at 151 feet from torch to toe, or more than 300 feet if you add its base. While it is possible to admire the statue from the water, the best way to see her is to stand in her shadow and take in her crown before climbing the statue.

There are regular ferry services to Liberty Island (where Lady Liberty is) from Battery Park in New York City and Liberty State Park in Jersey City. So there's no reason to leave this beautiful island off your bucket list. However, if you want to save money, the Staten Island ferry operates around the clock from Downtown Manhattan. It offers postcard-worthy views of Lady Liberty and the Lower Manhattan skyline.

2 - Metropolitan Museum of Art

Are you looking for the best museums in New York City? Of course, the Met is the most famous museum in New York City, although the Louvre would be a worthy contender.

This museum, which houses over 2 million pieces of art from around the globe, is located in Central Park. It includes everything from Egyptian hieroglyphics to European masterpieces such as Picasso, Van Gogh, Monet, and more. Not to mention famous sculptures such as The Winged Victory of Samothrace, also known as Nike, who, despite not being headless, guards the Top of a grand staircase.

You can easily spend hours exploring this place and then wander through the many halls filled with centuries-old artwork. You could quickly turn an afternoon into a full day. However, if you want to get the most out of your visit, a guided tour is the best option.

The Met is open Sunday through Thursday, 9 am to 5 pm (note: Wednesday is omitted), and Friday and Saturday from 9 am to 9 pm if you are looking for an evening of culture. So there's plenty of time to fit it into your schedule!

3 - Rockefeller Center

Rockefeller Center, a Midtown landmark that houses entertainment, shopping and tourists, takes up an entire block in Midtown. It is a must-see on any New York City trip.

This iconic landmark was built between 1930 and 1940. It is an active hub year-round.

Even if you can't make it in the winter months or cannot stand the NYC wind chill, there's plenty to do at Rockefeller Center.

Many works of art are scattered throughout the grounds, including Prometheus outside 30 Rock. You can also enjoy stunning views from the Top of the Rock observation platform. Also, there is plenty of entertainment and souvenirs at the Radio City Music Hal and NBC studios. (See if you can get a ticket for a live performance!) This exquisite Art Deco complex offers world-class shopping and a piece of every pie.

4 - Central Park

Central Park, a green oasis in the middle of New York City's concrete jungle, is an undisputed New York City landmark.

This park was created in 1857 and extends from Midtown to Harlem. It covers over 800 acres, roughly twice the size of London's Hyde Park.

You won't be disappointed with the Central Park walking trails and large lawns. There are many attractions in the area, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art on the eastern edge and the Museum of Natural History on the western edge. Other notable attractions include the Alice in Wonderland statue on 72nd Street, Belvedere Castle, Vista Rock, Belvedere Castle, Vista Rock's Shakespeare Garden, Belvedere Castle, Vista Rock's Belvedere Castle, the Shakespeare Garden, the Shakespeare Garden, the adorable-as in Turtle Lake, Strawberry Fields a tribute to John Lenon, as well as street performers and horse-drawn horses-drawn carriages and street performers and food carts.

It's a New York City landmark that must be included on everyone's New York City itinerary. There is so much to see and do. Biking is the best way to get around. You can rent a bike and explore the park at your own pace or join a guided tour to learn more about the area.

5 - Grand Central Terminal

Grand Central Terminal, a train station that has been immortalized through a long list of films over the years, is an attraction and a transportation hub.

This beaux-arts masterpiece was completed in Midtown Manhattan in 1913. It has been a landmark for millions of New York City residents and tourists. It houses 44 platforms, more than any other station anywhere in the world.

Grand Central, aside from its stunning architecture and size, as well as the astronomical mural that graces the main concourse roof of the building, is home to many shops, restaurants and bars. This area is excellent for stopping by for a quick bite or a break from the sightseeing. If you feel up to it, make sure to visit the whispering gallery at the lower level.

6 - Helicopter Tours

Are you ready to take that Instagram photo that makes you jealous? A helicopter tour of New York City is the best way to go -- you'll get unrivalled bird's-eye views.

You will usually depart from the Downtown Manhattan Heliport, although there are some spots around the Big Apple, so you can often find something close by where you're staying). As you soar over the city's top sights, including Central Park and the Empire State Building, Brooklyn Bridge, One World Trade Center and more, you'll also take in breathtaking views of Ellis Island and Lady Liberty along the way.

Helicopter tours of New York City are a great way to enjoy a romantic getaway for thrill-seekers who want to experience some high-altitude magic or for anyone looking to explore the city differently.

Do you still crave more altitude? There are also flight lessons and aerial photography tours!

7 - Top of the Rock Observatory Deck

New York City is the most iconic skyline in the world, so it makes sense that there are a few observation decks from which to admire its grandeur from high up. One of the most famous is Top of the Rock.

This Midtown attraction boasts stunning 360-degree views from the 70th Floor of 30 Rockefeller Plaza, an official New York City landmark also known as the G.E. Building. It offers unparalleled views that span Central Park, Times Square, the Hudson River, and the Empire State Building to the south.

Hot tip: Arrive at least an hour before sunset to see the city twinkle. Enjoy a cocktail at Bar SixtyFive as you watch the day turn magically into the night.

8 - Brooklyn Bridge

The Brooklyn Bridge is a landmark, iconic and tourist attraction that has been attracting tourists for decades.

This suspension bridge, built in 1883 and spanning over a mile above Manhattan's East River, connects Brooklyn with Manhattan. It was initially constructed to improve transport between the two boroughs.

Its actual value is not in its role as a connector but for what it represents: An architectural masterpiece and feat of 19th-century engineering, which took close to 15 Years to build using 15,000 miles of wire.

Today, cyclists and pedestrians can follow the same route as thousands of commuters daily. There are also a variety of tours that focus on architecture and history to help you learn more about this postcard-worthy landmark.

Day 3- Philadelphia-Washington Dc.

The tour will begin in New York. Then, Philadelphia will be the first stop. For 20 minutes, you will be at Independence National Historical Park. Then, we'll enjoy the views from Liberty Bell and Independence Hall. Finally, we'll take part in Philadelphia Double Decker. Enjoy the views of Philadelphia for nearly 60 minutes. You will then move on to Washington, DC. Enjoy the U.S. Capital In-depth tour includes an inside visit to the Capitol and views of the Supreme Court from the outside. You will also visit the Lincoln Memorial, the Korean War Memorial, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and the other War Memorial. The white house will be visited from the outside for approximately 20 minutes. Then, we'll enjoy the Washington DC Cruise for 60 minutes.

Independence National Historical Park

Independence National Historical Park is one of the essential sights in Philadelphia. Here you will find Independence Hall, Liberty Bell and the National Constitution Center.

Independence Hall is one of the most historic buildings in which the United States Constitution was created. You can learn more about the Constitution and American leadership at the National Constitution Center.

As a symbol of American freedom, equality and justice, the Liberty Bell was also a symbol for abolitionists. You can find a lot more information on this bell.

These historical landmarks are not the only ones that make up the park.

There are also exhibits about women's history and the suffragettes. You can also visit The President's House, where George Washington lived.

The President's House has a memorial for Martha Washington's slave, Ona Judge. You can also tour the Independence National Historical Park's many historic buildings.

This is a must-see attraction in Philadelphia. This is where American innovation and philosophy are rooted.

2: Philadelphia Museum of Art

One of Philadelphia's top attractions is the Philadelphia Museum of Art. This architectural and cultural treasure is located at the end of Ben Franklin Parkway. It can be found along the Schuylkill River.

It houses some of the most delicate art in the world, including Vincent Van Gogh's "Sunflowers." In addition, the museum houses American art, impressionist and modern art, and an impressive armour collection.

Both the museum and its surroundings are stunning. The famous Boat House Row can be viewed from the back of the museum.

You can visit Fairmount Water Works or the pavilion at the river by heading down below. This is also where you can take a walk or bike ride on the Schuylkill River Trail.

The famous Rocky Steps can be seen from the front. This is because so many people run up the steps of the Art Museum, just like Rocky (played in the movie by Sylvester Stallone).

It's a Philadelphia rite-of-passage. You can also take photos at the bottom of these iconic Philadelphia tourist attractions with the Rocky statue.

You will also have the best view of Philadelphia from the top of these steps.

3: Eastern State Penitentiary

Eastern State Penitentiary is the best choice regarding Philadelphia's most jaw-dropping activities.

It was once the home of Al Capone and "Slick Willie", a bank robber.

And was constructed in 1829 and was, in true Philadelphia style, the first truly dungeon in the world.

It looks almost like a fortress from the outside. The prison was designed with rehabilitation in mind, and the vaulted ceilings were sky-lit.

For a haunted Halloween experience in the dungeon, make sure to visit "Terror Behind the Walls" if you are visiting in October.

4: Philadelphia Zoo

The Philadelphia Zoo, like many Philadelphia attractions, is also the oldest and most popular in America.

You can see lions, tigers, monkeys and birds of prey. You can also visit the "treehouse", swan paddle boat ride, and hot air balloon ride.

It also features many rides, attractions, and great food choices. It's also found in the Centennial District, near other attractions in Philadelphia.

Day 4- Corning-Niagra falls

You can depart early in the morning to visit the Corning Museum of Glass. It will take approximately 90 minutes. The next stop is Niagara Falls, State Park. Here guests can take part in Imax Movie or Maid of the Mist Boat Rides for just over half an hour. Then you can enjoy the Niagara Falls Night Tour for approximately 90 minutes.

Niagara Falls State Park: 332 Prospect St, Niagara Falls, NY 14303

Niagara Falls is a well-known tourist attraction. This state park is the first one in the country and is widely considered the best in New York. The towering waterfalls, located right at the border with Canada, are among the most impressive sights you will ever see.

Eternal Flame Falls, Orchard Park, NY 14127

The Eternal Flame Falls, located in Chestnut Ridge Park, is a unique attraction in New York. The waterfall's base emits natural gas, which allows a flame to be lit and burned continuously. It is fantastic to see the flame appear from within the water.

Corning Museum of Glass, 1 Museum Way, Corning (NY 14830)

One of New York's most overlooked museums is the Corning Museum of Glass. The museum houses a collection that includes more than 50,000 pieces of glass, including cookware, art, and tools. You can even see live glass blowing. These displays are simply stunning.

Watkins Glen State Park: 009 N Franklin St, Watkins Glen, NY 14891

Watkins Glen State Park is often listed on lists of New York's most beautiful places. It even beats Niagara Falls. You can see 19 waterfalls from the Gorge Trail, a short and easy hike. This place is fantastic!

Taughannock Falls State Park, 1740 Taughannock Blvd. Trumansburg, NY, 14886

We hope that you're not sick of New York's waterfalls yet. Taughannock Falls State Park has fantastic trails and is a beautiful place. No matter what season, the views are spectacular: the 400-foot gorges rise above the visitor, and the 215-foot tall waterfalls are breathtaking. This park is among the most beautiful in New York.

Cornell University, Ithaca, NY 14850

Cornell University is a well-known Ivy League school known for its strict admission rates and outstanding education. It is also known for its stunning campus. It has many beautiful historic buildings, as well as the natural beauty of the Ithaca region. You can take a walk around campus and enjoy many attractions, even if you're not a student.

Phelps Mansion Museum, 191 Court St., Binghamton (NY 13901)

Our trip will end at the Phelps Mansion. This mansion is an outstanding example of a historic American home from America's Gilded Age. The museum offers tours every week. For more information, visit the museum's website.

Day 5 - Upstate New York-Boston

You will take the Niagara Falls In-depth Tour, which includes Old Fort Niagara and Whirlpool state park, for nearly 120 minutes. Then, we'll enjoy the Niagara Jet Boat for 60 minutes of excitement. After this, guests will travel to Boston for a night.

Note:

Tourists are welcome to spend time at Niagara Falls State Park without having to take part in the Niagara Falls In-depth Tour.

Travellers will not have access to the Niagara River Niagara Jetboat due to snow and icy conditions. This ride would require a minimum of 4 years.

Niagara In-Depth Tour includes Old Fort Niagara, Whirlpool State Park, IMAX Movie, and Niagara Fall Day View.

Hotel: Red Roof Plus Boston Woburn Hotel, Red Roof Inn Boston Mansfield Foxboro Hotel, Best Western Plus North Shore Hotel, or similar.

Niagara Falls is very popular among tourists. One thing you can do is take a Jet Boat Ride. This is an exciting way to experience Niagara Falls.

Niagara Falls In-Depth Tour, NY

Niagara Falls is already a beautiful place and is visited by many tourists yearly. However, this place is so fascinating that you can get an In-Depth Tour to understand it better.

Old Fort Niagara NY

Old Fort Niagara, a reinforced fortification built to protect the interests of New France, is located close to Youngstown, New York, USA. It is now even more appealing, thanks to Niagara Falls and the museum.

Whirlpool State Park, NY

Whirlpool State Park is located in Niagara County, just north of Niagara Falls. This park offers everything, from hiking to picnic tables and pavilions.

Day 6: Boston- New York City and Home

The day will begin with a Boston Lobster Meal. Then you can travel to Cambridge to participate in a Harvard University Campus Tour. This tour lasts approximately 60 minutes. You will then pass MIT University before reaching Boston, where you can enjoy Harbor Cruises and see the city's beauty. Quincy Market will be the final stop of the day. The return destinations will be where the travellers will drop off.

Pass-by attractions include Old Trinity Cathedral and Hancock Building, Boston Athenaeum Boston Park, Swan Lake Park and Golden Dome of the State House.

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Cambridge, Massachusetts, is a research-based university well-known for its rigorous and selective academics. This institution has produced 22 Rhodes Scholars and 24 Nobel Prize winners.

Boston Harbor Cruise MA

You can relax and enjoy the Boston Harbor cruise as you take in the beautiful surroundings of Boston.

Boston Lobster Dinner. M.A.

Enjoy the pleasure of the best Lobster you've ever tasted. Boston is famous for its Lobsters. So don't miss this chance to enjoy the best Lobsters.

Boston, MA

Boston is the capital and largest city in Massachusetts, one of the oldest American cities. Due to its many international universities and colleges, Boston is well-known as a centre for education and culture.

Cambridge MA

Cambridge is a municipality in Middlesex County, Massachusetts, in the United States. The city is located north of Boston and was named "Cambridge" after the University of Cambridge.

Harvard University Campus Tour. MA

Harvard University Campus Tour, MA, does not require pre-registration. Harvard University has a long and distinguished history of Harvard Veterans who have served in the military and are at the forefront of American politics, business, and education. This tour is truly fascinating. There is also a tour highlighting Harvard's rich military history in the fall and the summer.

Harvard University MA

Harvard University was founded in 1639 in Cambridge, Massachusetts. It is the oldest university in the United States. It is one of the world's most prestigious and highly ranked universities.

Quincy Market MA

Quincy Market, located in downtown Boston's Faneuil Hall Marketplace, is a historic building which still serves as a souvenir market and food court.

Trinity Church MA

Trinity Church is located in Boston's upper-class neighbourhood, i.e. Back Bay neighbourhood. It is part of the Episcopal Diocese. The church's extravagant and stylish building has become a landmark downtown.

#cheapflighttickets #cheapairlines #cheapplanetickets #cheapflightatlowcost

0 notes