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nevermore-the-kitsune · 3 years

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Pokemon Teams for Fictional Characters pt. 2

Damian Wayne

(Also, I'm not including move sets because in my headcannon Pokemon do remember all their old moves. But humans choose to only use four)

For this AU I'm having the Wayne's own the Gotham City Gym, which specializes in Dark types. Most of the cannon events still happened. Just with a few tweaks here and there. (Dick's 20, Jason's 16, Cass is 15 Tim's 15 but younger than Cass and Damian's 13 because I love AUs where there closer in age).

Anyway here we go!

First things first in the Pokemon Universe his alias wouldn't be Robin since they don't exist. Instead I think it would be Rookidee, since thats the closest Pokemon to a Robin.

His Partner Pokemon and ace would be a Gligar

Name: Goliath

Gender: Male

Why: Gligar screams Goliath (his Batdragon) plus the coloring of his evolutions matches with Dami's Robin and Batman outfits

Story: He found Goliath while climbing a mountain for his training. At the time he was four and Goliath was a hatching. Damian ended up giving him some food, seeing that the hatching was hungry.

Grateful, the Gligar followed him hoping to return the favor.

When Damian's hand got broken on that same trip, Goliath was the one to help him finish his mission and get home safely.

Talia was impressed that Damian could tame a wild Pokemon without catching it, so she allowed him to keep him as his first Pokemon.

-----

Next he would have a Meowth

Name: Alfred

Gender: Female

Why: This one has to do with its evolution. Persian are said to only be loyal to trainers it likes and that it takes a lot to get them to like you. Their also said to be prissy and uptight. This reminded me of Damian. How it took forever for him to trust his brothers and his own snobby attitude. Thus I think it fits.

Story: After coming to live with his father Damian didn't know how to act. He saw his "brothers" and father treating their Pokemon so different than how the League did. They all trained hard. But, there was something eles: warm praise for a job well done, asking for insight on a case (they had taught their bipedal pokemon sighn language) and comfort on a bad day. His father and brothers treated their Pokemon like... people

In the League Pokemon where the lowest soldier, lower than the slaves or concubines. They trained, ate then they had to and got in their ball.

He had been a little more lenient in his training with Goliath. When asked he said that he was still a baby and he had to take things slow in this stage or he might develop too much muscle mass and be unable to fly.

He had kept him out of his ball with the excuse of developing muscle mass at a proper pace.

He liked Goliath's company. The Gligar was a good companion. But on the same level as another person?

He had expressed these thoughts to Pennyworth, the only person in the house to give him a straight answer when he needed it.

Pennyworth had explained to him that some people love to hold power over others and that Pokemon where an easy target, since they couldn't communicate their emotions as clearly as people could.

"Think of Mistress Cain. She sometimes cannot communicate with words, but we know that she's intelligent. But some people see her as less than intelligent and treat her as such because of the power it gives them."

Two weeks later Damian would come across a group of teenagers attempting to shave a Meowth. The Pokemon was little more than skin and bone and crying out on pain. So, Damian broke their fingers and shaved part of their heads for good measure.

He kept the Meowth and named her after the man who taught him about the abuse of power.

---

Next, a Poochyena

Name: Titus

Gender: Male

Why: These Pokemon and their evolution are ruthless with their pray, and only obey trainers with external skill.

Story: Raven gave Damian Titus as a gift. She said that she rescued him from an underground fighting ring (where the battles are to the death). He was still to young to battle so he didn't need much rehabilitation. The other Pokemon there though...

---

Now we have a Type Null

Name: Heretic

Gender: ???

Why: This Pokemon was created in lab, and artificial designed for the purpose of fighting, just like Damian. True I could have given him Mewtwo, but that cat seems to fit Kon more.

Story: Damian's mother had spent years creating Type: Null with the purpose of being able to kill any target. As a last test she wanted to see which of her creations was suppirrior. So she sent the Type Null out to (try and) kill her son.

Damian, with the rest of his team, beat the Pokemon but couldn't kill it. He had long since vowed to wash the blood from his hands. Instead he offered his hand to it and asked it to join him.

---

Here we have the hardest to explain... Mimikyu

Name: Habibi (I hope I spelled that right)

Gender: Female

Why: Damian is complex, he wants to be accepted and loved just like Mimikyu but dosent know how. Both try to mimic others in order to get that love, Damian his father and Mimikyu Pikachu. So I see this as Damian's spirit Pokemon in a way.

Story: He didn't know why it was so hard to fit in. Gods know he tried. But... little things confused him. Like how eveyone could understand each other without words or singhing. He had no problems with that on a battlefield, but in day to day life; it felt like he was on a separate server.

Like how Todd knew at breakfast with just a look that Drake was in a bad mood and how to help. Or how Grayson could audomadicly tell what kind of day at school the rest of them had withen a few minutes. Hell even Drake could tell what grunts ment what from father! Which ment good job, Which ment I'm glade your okay, or frustration either at them or at a case (Cass didn't surprise him, she had to learn how to communicate without words and watch body language and micro expressions).

School was no better; sometimes it was to load or bright othertimes, when everyone was doing a test, it felt to quiet. But, to much or to little, Damian was always aware of every movement, every sound. It was like the very instincts that saved his life every night where turned against him.

He turned to his nearly forgotten childhood habits to distract himself from everything around him. That only led to more whisper shouting and what even he could tell where displeased glares with a grunt of "fucking tapping" or a snap of "stop!" He knew it was disrupting but it was all be could do to drown out the noise or silence.

On one particularly bad day at school; apparently during one of their tests one of his classmates had had enough of Damian's tapping and decided to make a scene.

There was some yelling from the kid. A few cries in agreement. Before the teacher had gotten hem to settle down. He had demanded that Damian look him in the eye and when he finally did told him to stop with the tapping or else he would be sent to the office, Gym Leaders son or not.

He was the last to finish that test where he normally finished first. The silence had been to load!!

After that clusterfuck Damian finally headed home. He had texted Grayson saying that he was meeting a friend somewhere to work on a project and to not pick him up. In truth he didn't want his brother reading what kind of day he had had. He needed some time to himself.

That was how he found himself in a nearby park. It was filled with plenty of sounds that didn't suffocate him and the fall leaves where soothing to his eyes. Damian had Titus out of his ball as company, knowing that the pup loved park walks.

They had been walking for an hour when they came across a box set off just on the edge of the trail. "Free to Good Homes" was written on the side in black sharpie.

No sound was coming from inside, so he assumed that the had all been taken. Until Titus went closer sniffing at the seemingly empty box.

"Pooch Pooch"

"Hmmm... what is is it boy?" He asked as he walked closer to his Pokemon and the Box. Damian hoped he was wrong. It was cruel to leave a baby Pokemon all alone, especially since the weather was getting colder by the day.

Inside the box was in fact a lone Pokemon. At first glance it looked like a Pikachu. But something was off. It looked more like a doll than a living creature. If it wasn't for the small chirps it let out and slight way that it was shivering from the cold Damian would have written it off as a toy. No wonder it got left behind...

Damian reached down and picked up the mystery Pokemon as gently as he could.

"Come on beloved, lets go home."

He tucked the Pokemon in his jacket to warm it up before reaching for his phone to call Grayson for a ride home.

That night Damian locked himself away, even skipped patrol, and spent a sleepless night learning everything he could about his newest Pokemon.

---

That was inspired by this comic

---

Finaly, for his last spot Eevee!!

Name: Omni

Gender: Female

Why: I'm going to have all the Batfam members have an Eeveelution. This branch and the Batfam are both growing consistently. We all have our favorites but we love them all the same. So I think it fits.

Story: Everyone in the family had an Eevee or one of its evolutions. Damian's Father said that Eevee was the Wayne family symbol, it was potential, the ability to become whatever you wanted.

Though it surprised Damian that the Wayne symbol wasn't a Noibat or Noivern (Batman's ace) at first he eventually understood the logic in choosing such a Pokemon to represent the family name. That only made things harder for him being the only one not having one. Did they not truly see him as family?

On the one year anniversary of Damian arriving at The Mannor, his family through a small party. Pennyworth made his favorite foods, The Mannor was decorated in tacky streamers (Graysons' idea) and they watched some of Damian's favorite fims, their Pokemon curled up with them. His father had offered to take the day off from the gym. Until Todd suggested that Damian take on the challengers.

The Gotham gym was part of his heritage. Damian had been training for the day that he could finally help weed out the weak challengers just like his siblings sometimes did (think the battles you do before challenging a gym leader in the games).

On that day, if the challengers agreed to it, their final battle wasn't with Bruce Wayne the Dark Knight but instead his son. Most accepted thinking that it would be an easy win, that they had lucked out in not having to battle one of the stongest Gym Leaders in the League and could still get the Shadow Badge.

Those poor fools.

Damian was only allowed to use Alfred, Titus and Habibi since he used Goliath and Heretic primarily as Rookidee.

Damian fought seven trainers that day in 3v3 fights. Only two of them got the badge.

With the day overwith and the night rising, so did Gothams' protecters.

The night ended with exhausted body's and adrenaline crashes. Damian was ready to slip into a mini coma from the day he had but before he could head upstairs to The Mannor...

"Not so fast baby bat." Graysons' voice called out to him. "We got one more surprise for you."

Damian raised his eyebrow at that. What else could they do? His father came back from the locker rooms where he had been desuiting, it always took him the longest because of his "old man bones" as Todd said.

"Son," his father said "its Wayne tradition to get your first Pokemon when you turn ten years old. I missed that with you." He paused, eyes briefly shifting to the floor before they snapped back on Damian's face. "Luckily there's one tradition we didn't miss. When you've lived at The Mannor for a year or the adoption papers get finalized, I give my children this..."

He pulled a Poke'ball out of his poket and handed to Damian. "Go on son, let them out."

He did

Staring at him was his own Eevee.

---

AN: All of Damian's Pokemon (sans maybe Omni, I'm thinking of leaving her as an Eevee) will eventually evolve. Eventually.

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internalsealpanic · 3 years

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Love Through the Ages (Jason Todd)

Summary: Love like baggage needs to be declared.

a/n: This is part three of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots. Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans. I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself. ALSO, y'all can thank @littleredwing89 for the poem that comes up.

Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist.

You tap at your phone screen, planting seeds in a satisfyingly hypnotic rhythm, the sounds of the train vacillating in and out of your periphery. It was soothing having your own compartment, a little world you can isolate yourself in while you anxiously await for the inevitable.

It wasn’t a secret that you found Gotham stressful. It was about as much a secret as Tony Stark’s civilian identity. You pulled your knees up to your chest at the thought. Big cities were stressful but Gotham was a different beast entirely. It was a writhing monster of steel and smoke. You wrinkle your nose deciding to sweep the thought away.

Instead, you concentrate on your plants and your farm. You wince looking at your journal. It looks like you’d forgotten another quest. Pursing your lips, you decide to turn your phone off for a bit and pretend the NPCs can sort it out on their own as you look out the window.

You lean against the wall, pressing your cheek to the cool window. You can’t help but smile to yourself thinking of a sea of black curly hair interrupted by a shock of white, sea green eye perpetually alight with mischief or intelligence (9 times out of 10, you really couldn’t tell which it was.), freckles like star map, and a mouth permanently set in a cocky grin. It’s hard not to smile like an idiot when thinking of Jason Todd.

Your skirt flutters in the wind as you dance your way through the crowd, bobbing up and down on your tiptoes over the sea of humans. Sometimes the smell of them still makes your mouth water but not now, not when the smell of Gotham is so pungent in the air.

You see a gloved hand wave at you on the other side of the crowd. You pin your sunhat against your head as you rush through the crowd, your luggage dragging behind you.

Jason waves a two fingered salute at you in front of a motorcycle, his foot clearly stomping a cigarette. You toss your hat to him. It flutters over the crowd. Jason catches it easily, putting it on his own head.

"Hey Princess, welcome back." Jason greets, the syllables of your native French gliding off of his tongue so easily. Fighting down a blush, you swallow your own greeting. Jason would have been a great ambassador in a different life were he not inclined to murder someone with a desert spoon for being a jackass.

He offers his hat back to you, but you shake your head. "You might freckle too much in Gotham's sunny weather." He gives you a hearty chuckle keeping the hat on.

"Missed you too, princess."

You roll your eyes. Pinching your nose, you look around. "You forgot to tell me to bring a gas mask."

"Every city smells like this."

"Darling, you've been in Gotham for too long."

"And you've been in your French villa for too long." Jason says, putting his sunglasses on you. You glare at him through them.

"First of all, it's a cottage."

Jason snorts, "As if that makes a difference. It's still in the idyllic French countryside, isn't it?"

"I-"

"I rest my case."

You cross your arms. "You're welcome to visit, you know?" It was a hopeful suggestion at best.

"We both know the quiet will drive me crazy."

"I said visit," you say, "besides, I think the train ride alone would drive you up the wall." You remember how Jason is with tight spaces.

"Not with you there." Jason winks.

Your heart presses a bruise into your throat and you hate Jason Peter Todd all over again.

"Ah yes, you plan on driving me mad. Evil. Truly evil of you." You say, grinning back at him.

"Here's a wild idea, how bout we just not listen to Roy? How does that sound?" Jason gently suggests, handing you your offensively pink cup of caffeinated goop. Jason can smell the sickening amount of sweeteners added. He might gag.

"Nope," you say, smiling at him as you slurp your ooze. Jason's stomach rolls. Alfred would have an aneurysm. "He was even nice enough to get us both tickets." You hand him one, fingers brushing against his. They felt calloused as they always did. Jason suppresses any oncoming reaction.

He instead turns his attention to the ticket in his hands. Love Through the Ages: Gotham Museum Exhibition on expressions of love. Jason runs through the numbers. "These are $59 each."

"So sweet of him, isn't it?" You chirp adorably.

Jason makes a mental note to kill both of you. "You're only going along with this cus you want to watch me suffer." Jason says, slumping his chair. His foot kicks out to tap your foot.

"I'm doing it affectionately," you say, tapping his foot with yours. "Besides, it's a universal pass time at this point." You swirl your drink and grin at him. It was your real grin, all bright and eager and stupidly sweet. Something in Jason's chest twists. It's always hard to breathe when you smile at him but really Jason would rather all the oxygen in the atmosphere be burned up than see your smile disappear.

He sounds dramatic and he knows that but still he knows it's true.

"C'mon Jay, it'll be fun."

Shoulders slouched, Jason smiles at you indulgently. "Fun for who?"

"Mainly me but you can have fun too."

"You are so lucky you're adorable when you're being evil."

Your smile brightens and with a tap of his foot against yours, he thinks he'll survive whatever Roy has in store for him.

You and Jason have been walking around the museum for quite a bit with Jason's arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders and homicide radiating off of him every time someone even looks at you funny. He'd said that the arm slung around your shoulder was so that you wouldn't get lost. As for the homicide, he elected to ignore the question entirely.

You flush as Jason quotes another line from 'Master Valentine' back to you. You definitely regret letting him house sit. You regret even more not hiding your books. You squirm as Jason whispers the quote in your ear in a husky drawl. The erotica in the book is amazing and you're normally comfortable with talking to Jason about everything, but this- this was just cruel and unusual punishment. It's what you get for trying to make him suffer.

All the pet names he murmured in your ear crawled up your spine. You shove his face away hiding your own in your sleeve. He laughs into your hand enjoying your sudden bout of shyness.

Jason mumbles a half-hearted apology into your hand, pressing a soft kiss into your palm. You lower your head. You're still clearly avoiding his gaze but you let him press you to his side. Jason Todd is an asshole.

You point to a pair of ice skates so well worn and well loved that you almost miss the little penguins stitched on the side. "Love on the ice? That's so cute!"

Jason glances at them with mild interest. "Sounds like hypothermia." He says, shrugging.

Swatting at his chest, you pout at him. He rolls his eyes nudging your shoulder with his. You scowl at him and stick your tongue out. Jason leans down, unable to stop the urge to press a kiss to your brow. You scowl even harder.

"Admit it, doll. The whole exhibition is just Dickie's favorite fanfiction tropes."

"Professor Todd, be a dear and enlighten my troglodyte ass."

He snorts, "Princess, if I was a professor we both know I'd have the highest attendance rate."

"And the highest failure rate." You say cocking a brow.

"Probably."

"You're terribly humble today."

"I just know I look good."

No, you don't, you think. You shake your head. "That explains the leather jacket."

"You love my leather jacket."

"Well, Biscuit certainly loved your previous one."

Jason wrinkled his nose thinking of the yellow disaster. "That dog was a menace."

"She is the sweetest creature on earth."

"She destroyed my jacket and ate my wallet AND phone."

"I never said she was smart... wait, we're getting off topic."

Jason narrows his eyes at you then points to a crown. It was an intricate lattice of silvers and golds with diamonds that glittered like starlight. "Royal AU," he says simply, "go on read the description."

"A prince and a princess from rival nations are bound by a marriage of convenience. Through a series of missteps. They fell for each other.... that one was pretty easy. Do it again."

He points to a blue feather. "Mythology AU."

You arch a brow at him. He waves at it, urging you to read. "A god descended to earth to be with his mortal lover only for him to lose his memories of her." The feather's glow is incandescent. You can feel the power radiating off of it, a sure sign of divinity.

Once, you would have brushed it off as mere story. You've spent more than twice your lifetime now dipped into the world of myths. You glance at Jason. Simple divinity no longer fazes you.

"See?"

"I- Nope."

"You're just being stubborn."

"Would you have been my friend if I wasn't?" Would you have saved me if I wasn't?

You think Jason hears your unspoken question when he frowns. Instead, he turns on his heel to face the other direction. He points to a bouquet of wilted roses tied together by a green ribbon. They still smell of blood and something you couldn't identify. Your eyes drift down curious. Your eyes trace over the words feeling your stomach tumble.

"Gruesome." Jason vocalizes inanely. He hooks his head on the crown of your head, neatly slotting your body under his. You're safe, surrounded by walls of muscle. The crease in your brow softens. You would think that Jason would be less protective after you'd turned but now that you were a vampire, he was somehow even more protective. Roy always joked you only got Biscuit and your other dogs as lap dogs because you already had Jason. He may not have been too off on his guess.

"This should be in a horror exhibit," you say leaning into Jason's chest, "kind of reminds me of you though." You tilt your head up grinning at him.

"If you make a joke about me being jack the ripper again, I swear I'll-"

"-Bury me alive 6 feet under concrete with a recording of Roy singing Auld Lang Syne in a terrible British accent. Got it. What I meant was... you're just as protective as the man in the story." You say, smiling at him.

For good reason, Jason thinks.

Jason buries half of his face in your hair, hiding his answering smile. You smell like sugar and cinnamon. It's a familiar combination of smells that puts him at ease despite the atrocious amount of people in the museum.

You point to another artifact, afraid that you'd accidentally picked at an old wound.

"Star-crossed lovers." He mumbles into your hair.

"Bullshit!"

"Read it and weep, doll."

You read the plaque and the words 'meet' and 'different world' assault your eyes. You scowl at him. "Fuck you."

The grin on Jason's face is genuine. It makes something in your veins sing knowing how much fun he's having.

Your face softens. "You really love this romance stuff, huh?"

Jason narrows his eyes at you.

"You were the one bawling your eyes out when we binged Spaces Between Us. Who the hell cries during erotica?"

"IT'S TRUE LOVE AND YOU KNOW IT IN YOUR SOUL," you protest, pounding your fist against his chest,"besides, you're the one who was crying nonstop when we watched the IDHY duology."

"I was crying because they were accurate book adaptations."

You blink at him confused. "There's a book?"

"Yes, you illiterate heathen."

"You sound like a conquistador."

“....”

"At least they got their happy ending." You say, changing the subject.

"That's true."

"Still better than Titanic."

He furrows his brow at you. "What's wrong with the Titanic?"

"First of all," You pitch your shoulders like you're about to give him a lecture, "That was 3 hours of my life wasted on a shitty movie. It wasn't even that accurate."

"Princess, not everyone can survive the Arctic."

"And second, the most romantic scene in that romantic movie was the old couple staying together as they sank."

Jason laughs, a deep rumbling sound. It scrambles your brain, almost dissolving your annoyance until he opens his mouth again. "You sound like Damian."

"Jason Peter Todd, take that back." You screech, swiping at him.

He jumps back, his laughter still echoing. "Stop sounding like the demon brat first."

You run after him, telegraphing your murderous intent. Jason walks away faster, sticking his tongue out at you. Your growl and claw at the air. You screech obscenities as Jason continues to evade you. He is having way too much fun with this.

You chase Jason around the exhibition for a solid half hour before you come to a skittering halt.

Your eyes land on a vermillion book, leather bound and carefully crafted by skilled hands. You step closer to admire the swirling, arabesque patterns lining the leather. No title is embossed on the front. It's thick. You would wager it was at least 400 pages.

Your eyes drift down even further, finding a familiar scrawl. Below the book were photocopies of some of the pages. Pablo Neruda's 'If You Forget me', Beethoven's 'Immortal beloved', Ibn Hazm's 'My Heart', and a bunch of other poets you didn't know but recognized as ...

"Jason these are your favorites."

"What?" He says, walking over to you cautiously.

You look back down at the pages and your eyes catch on the one in the middle. From the numbering, it was the last.

Love is such a hard thing to define,

I don’t know if I could ever find,

The words to truly express the complexity of such an emotion.

It is an emotion felt in the heart,

Long before it makes sense to the mind,

illusive and uncertain until suddenly it just clicks.

Like so many things in this world,

we tend to know it when we see it in others,

even if we can’t be sure of it ourselves.

I think I’ve always known how much I love you,

When I look at you,

I see everything I’ve ever wanted.

When I look at you,

I see nothing else but your perfect beauty.

Inside and out.

I'm not a poet, (Y/n), but I will tell you anyway I can how much I love you.

-Jason Peter Todd

Jason is a stone next to you.

His mouth is filled with sand as he looks at the far too familiar handwriting. He knew. He knew the moment he saw the red book what it was. Hell, the moment you told Jason it was Roy who told you to go to the museum, he knew what it was. God, why can't he just turn to ash.

Jason can't make himself turn to you. He can't bear to see what ever disgusted expression you make. He just can't.

He feels a tug on his sleeve. He doesn't move. He feels another tug, this time harder. When he doesn't respond the second time, you lace your fingers in his and spin him around.

You squish his cheeks in your hands. "Jason, you actual sap." You say. You look like you're glowing. You beam at him, all toothy and scrunched faced. Jason's lungs stop working again. His mind can't process what you're saying. All Jason knows is that something warm is crowding his chest, pushing everything else out.

"Wha?"

"Jason, you absolute dork!" You repeat, unfazed by his temporary bout of insanity.

Jason is blushing, looking like a strawberry with his freckles. Jason is more adorable than anyone has any right to be. But that's ok. That's perfectly ok cus he's yours.

In a moment of uncontained affection, you pull Jason to you, pressing a kiss against his lips. It's soft and earnest and exciting. It was a kiss Jason spent lifetimes dreaming about. It was you and completely you.

"Jay, they're beautiful." You say in a breathless laugh.

Jason looked down at his feet. "I-" was never planning on giving it to you, he thinks. Because, why would you ever love someone like Jason? Especially, after what he'd done to you.

As if reading his mind, you press your forehead against his. "I love you too, Jay, and you can't argue me out of it. Sorry bud, you're stuck with me."

Jason can't help the smile as it curls on his lips.

He's happy. He's so stupidly happy and he blames you.

"Plus, I already knew."

"Why didn't you say it first?" He asks, his fingers brushing against his tingling lips.

"Cus," you say, pirouetting away from him, "you wouldn't believe me if I did."

"How-"

You put your hand up. "Trust me, Jay. I've tried before." You tilt your head back looking up at the sky light. The curtain of light fell on you like a spotlight highlighting everything ethereal about you. "Remember in Milan? When I told you I cared about you and you told me I didn't."

Jason remembered that. He was angrier back then. He snarled that to you like some wild animal and threatened to throw you out on your ass if you ever so much as spoke a word of that nonsense again. It was the first time he'd seen you look hurt. You face was wide open with shock. Jason felt something in his chest tear at that look. He stormed off, leaving you in that room.

When he came back, you offered him warm tea and a smile. You were quiet, inconsolably quiet.

It didn't…

He didn't…

It didn't occur to him that look in your eyes was heartbreak.

Jason curses under his breath.

You chortle at him, the mirth in your eyes incandescent.

"Yeah. Exactly." You say, clasping your hands behind your back. Jason would like to be buried six feet under with the only words carved into his gravestone 'I am so sorry (Y/n)'.

You snick seeing the look in his eyes. "Or that time in Paris. The one in the little patisserie when I told you in perfect Catalan that you meant more to me than anything else and do you remember what you told me?"

"I told you you were possessed." Jason's shoulders slump. "Please tell me you don't have a third example."

You smile at him pityingly. "I don't-"

"OH THANK FU-"

"I have 50. Well, 51 but the last one didn't count since I was joking that time."

In Jason's mind, his jaw hits the obsidian floor with an audible 'plop'. It would be loud enough that the entire museum would hear it were it real. He blinks at you. "You tried more than 10 times?"

"I was encouraged." You say shrugging.

"Of course, you were," he grumbles and you laugh. Jason's heart skips a beat but he pushes past the feeling in favor of pleading with you. "Please don't list them."

"Oh, I'm not." You hum.

Jason sighs with relief.

"I'm gonna leave that to Roy."

"Son of a- He knows?"

You look over your shoulder. "Yeah. Who do you think I complain to?"

"Who else knows?" He asks, trailing behind you as you walk to .... Jason doesn't know at this point and he doubts you do too.

"Oh just your family."

"I'm surprised they haven't given me shit about it."

"Oh I bullied them into not doing it."

"Impressive." He whistles and you preen.

"Always," you say smugly. You begin to walk a bit faster, craning your neck. "Now, let's go find out if Dickie installed that bakery I asked for."

"That's what you're after?" Jason laughs.

"It's a noble goal." You protest.

"You don't even need to feed."

"I need to feed my inner sweets monster. She's very fussy and is demanding crepes specifically."

Jason smiles softly at you, amused that of all the human traits you could have retained after being turned was a sweet tooth.

"Sorry to tell you doll face, Dickie still hasn't done it."

You look aghast like he'd slapped you in the face with a large baguette.

"What?!"

"He hasn't put in your suggestion from 10 years ago."

"Where am I supposed to get my fix?"

"Are we still talking about sweets or have you moved on to cocaine?"

"Dunno, have you tried snorting sugar?"

"No. Why- Have you?"

"...my lawyer advised against answering this question."

Jason cackles. "How am I the stupid one?"

"I-" Your scowl turns sickeningly sweet. "Yanno, the third time I tried was when-"

"OK. Stop." Jason's face lights up again. "I give."

"Pfff." You smile, looking far too pleased with yourself.

Jason straightens up, something sly passing through his eyes. You stop. The look in his eyes makes you nervous.

"I think I know where you can get something sweet."

You swallow nervously.

Jason leans in. He’s so close to you. You can feel his breath brush against your lips. Nothing else around you seems to exist at the moment.

You lean in to kiss him but you freeze when you register his voice.

“I’m taking you downtown. There’s a new bakery there and I heard the crepes were to die for.” He chuckles, turning to walk towards the exit.

“What the hell?!” You call out falling into step with him.

He grins down at you, arms folded behind his head. “Something wrong, princess?”

Heat rises in your cheeks and elbow him in the side.

“I want to take you on a proper date and I sure as hell am not starting here.” He says, rubbing his side and conspicuously not looking at you. There’s a dust of peach on his face. Your anger fades away. It gives way to a fluttering in your chest.

“Where?”

He looks at you then, brow furrowed.

“Why don’t I take you to the fair, princess? There’s plenty of sweet treats there that’ll tickle your fancy.”

Your mouth waters when you think about all the cotton candy they have.

“I heard there’s a kissing booth too, so if you’re lucky,” Jason continues, winking at you. Predictably, you blanch at him. You knock your knuckles against his chest. Jason chuckles, rubbing his chest. “Sorry princess, I mean if I’m lucky enough to get a kiss from you.”

The temerity.

The gall.

“As long as you get me something sweet.” You huff, exiting the building.

Jason stops on the steps, turning to you with a sly smile. Crossing your arms, you pause bracing for whatever trick is up his sleeve. Jason tilts his head. He says something but the little noises of the city make the words hard to discern. You lean closer to hear him better. Jason steps closer to close the distance, his lips warm against yours. You’re stunned. Your entire body divided on how to react, some parts stiffen while others turn to jelly.

He pulls away, wolfish grin unwavering. "That sweet enough for you sweetheart?"

@batarella, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @bungunz, @birdy-bat-writes, @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #vampire au #food

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mdccanon · 2 years

Note

What is “white” to you? And how would you qualify a whitewashing?

White is a self-inflected pledge of erasure on British, French, German and Dutch Americans to distance themselves from any lure of foreign allegiance after America became its own country.

White is a distinction between that and anyone who still respected their nation of origin and it's customs and traditions.

And White is a rigid and plastic universal ideal created by people who needed to believe in a mystical level of separation between the nations of the world to justify their bigotry; but their ideal didn't hold up to even basic scrutiny because 1) people fuck on the regular so biraciality is as ancient as war and travel. Most of East Africa is about 30% Arab and 15% Asian, but just as "negroid" as anyone else in Africa. So are they Black, White, or Asian? And 2) The Indo-European ethnic group that "white people" belong to is from Central Asia, while the trappings it uses most to distinguish themselves are actually leftovers from the native Europeans they conquered, intermixed, and co-exist with to this day. The identity crisis this creates has been felt for the last 200 years, as bigots have resented not finding a romantic, untouched land of pure White Power from their Turkish, Persian, and the other Central Asian cousins, but also have little respect for the native European protests of sovereignty from Scottish, Irish, Basque, Sami, Welsh, and other native European cousins who are far fairer-skinned than they are....

So, whitewashing. The assumption and default of a healthy-tanned, brown-haired, white American. The instinctual lure to return to that model even when presented something different, culturally or aesthetically.

Yes. Sure. Already wrote about that:

https://mdccanon.tumblr.com/post/661264279305076736/so-i-read-your-recent-post-about-natasha-and-found

Recently, Encanto has been added to the list, with some people upset with a fair-skinned Pepa Madrigal, because showing diversity is only important up to certain point. Is the "most beautiful and perfect" member of the family the darkest-skinned member? Yes. Are Pepa's three children three beautiful brown shades that make sense for her and her husband's designs? Yes. Is there any subconscious writing that Pepa is treated better than her other siblings? No. So the only issue is that she is fair-skinned, and thus you couldn't "have" her like nine other members of her family... Nice respect for diversity. Tell me more about how you still aren't over the Pocahontas doll from the 90s not being QUITE as dark brown as the movie's coloring.

You know what I never understand? Why do people want the most stereotypical version and feel repulsed when they don't get it, but they would have been upset if they did? Why do you want the angriest, most self-centered character in Encanto to have darker skin when the animators settled for her being a stereotypical ginger instead? 😂👍 Why do you want the Latina in Knives Out to be a more stereotypically brown Latina in a story about illegal immigration and mistaking a nurse for a housekeeper? Why can't Mariah and Beyoncé be the Mammies for once and Viola, Alfre, and Octavia be in murder mysteries, thrillers, and romances?!

Why do you want stereotypical looking Middle Eastern actors to be the Fremen in Dune? Does it actually upset you to think about Berbers, Malians, Libyans, and literally every other desert culture that isn't Arab? Do you actually want to use the logic that in a sci-fi story thousands of years in the future, the human settlers to a desert planet in this inter-planetary empire should all be of Arab descent? And you actually think that's better logic than the old way of casting movies, where every actor is English?

Because diversity is important, but only to a certain extent...

#representation

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khneltea · 3 years

Text

Jasonette headcannon #1 section b.

Woah, so apparently y'all like this stuff. Uhm, takes inspiration from @mochegato and @SquareBrain on AO3

↬ Jason will never admit that he felt scared out of his wits as he rocked up to the shop

↬ nope, nuh-uh, never

↬ the store owner who stood a head shorter than him wasn't scary in the slightest

↬ so, dressed up in his best leather jacket and jeans, plus that old red shirt that may or may not have a bullet hole in it somewhere but was the best one he could find, he opened the door to the shop

↬ only to tremble in his boots at who was in the shop (whether it was anger or sheer fear, he will not admit to either and will deny all allegations of said trembling)

↬ inside was 2 of the biggest crime lords in Gotham, the one from the docks and the one from the underground, notorious for trying to tear each other's throats out, sitting peacefully on pretty pink cushions and enjoying pastries and tea out of tiny dainty tea cups

↬ what.the.actual.fuck.

↬ the glaringly pink (he supposed that was the theme) door to the right suddenly burst open and out comes the lady of the hour, and behind her was a very hot teenage girl (about 15 years old), but for some reason, he didn't really pay attention to her

↬ all eyes were on the two ladies, the hot one giggling away about a quinceañera while the owner of the shop smiled serenely, surveying the surroundings (probably checking if there was a gang war)

↬ her bluebell eyes popped out when they saw him (he says it was because he was handsome, but don't listen to him-)

↬ "hello! Welcome to my boutique, would you like to take a seat while checking our ready-made garments? Or are you here for a commision?"

↬ "uhhhhhhh..." Jason didn't think that far ahead. And it's hard going impromptu when there was a beautiful lady devoting all her attention on him

↬ she smiled like she knew exactly what he was thinking

↬ "why don't you take a seat, monsieur, and I'll help you out dans juste un instant (oh gosh, I'm sorry all you people who speak french who are going to call me out for using Google translate-)"

↬ so he's just sitting there, a tiny tea cup with little black cats and ladybugs on the sides held in his hands as he sees her negotiating a purchase with one of the mobster groups

↬ he nearly sighed in relief when the crime lord by the docks left with the gorgeous girl (probably his daughter now that he thought about it) after leaving a heavy briefcase and a business card in exchange for a beautiful sleek gown and matching accessories

↬ kinda scared him how friendly they both seemed to the store owner and how...warm that look in both the father and daughter's eyes were

↬ and he couldn't help but flinch when the crime lord from Gotham underground (is this a thing-) grins while the blue eyed woman started taking his measurements

↬ "doll, you're always welcome to come over anytime. You're good at business, I need more people like that."

↬ she has the fucking audacity to laugh. Laugh, I tell you

↬ "non, non, monsieur. I am quite happy with my little shop over here. Besides, the young ones would miss my pastries too much if I moved."

↬ he waved a hand. "Those street rats? If that's all that it takes to get you on my side, then consider them to be in better protection and care than those kids Wayne adopts every 5 seconds."

↬ got to say, his heart went thump when he pieced together that she took care of the street kids

↬ she grins "well, you're already giving them protection for living in my block, so that's all I need. Don't worry about the rest, I've got it covered."

↬ the crime lord shrugs. "Eh, I don't really care about the brats. But you, you're the one that needs protecting. Where else will I be getting these good suits that don't tear all the goddamn time from knives and guns? Plus, what's another 5 or 6 men patrolling this area to keep my favourite designer safe? If it makes you happy that they're inadvertently looking out for the kids, then better for me."

↬ wait those suits protected him from knives and guns????? Who the hell was this woman???

↬ smiling in response, but not as brightly anymore, she stood up, jotting down some notes in her book

↬ "alright, monsieur, you'll have to come in to a fitting on Saturday, presumably before your interaction with Monsieur Falcone at 1pm, so would it be presumptuous to ask if you come in at 10:30?"

↬ "not at all, my dear! it's a pleasure of doing business with you"

↬ "also, preferably, don't wear the flashy red suit you have, might i recommend the blue one from the fitting before last week's? Monsieur Falcone would gladly appreciate the red suit blaring in his eyes after the concussion he received recently"

↬ wait

↬ how the fuck did she know that

↬ falcone got that last night (he should know, he gave it to him)

↬ and the only ones who should know about it right now are him, Falcone, and no one else

↬ either this kid was magic, or she was Alfred level shit (he's still not convinced that Alfred is fully human)

↬ "thanks doll" and the crime lord leaves

↬ she turns to him, smiles and everything

↬ "alright, monsieur hood, what would you like to purchase today? or are you still having difficulty choosing?"

↬ uhm fuck ok

↬ how the hell do you talk to pretty, badass women that can probably take over the entirety of Gotham in a day

↬ "uhhhhhh got anything in red that doesn't make me look like a fucking period stain?"

↬ she giggled in a way that you know it's not flirting but just generally found it funny, and he thought it was the creation of the universe

↬ "i'm sure we can find you something, monsieur hood."

↬ proceeds to pull him up (what the fuck she was so strong for such a tiny girl) and lead him to the back room

↬ fabrics upon fabrics upon fabrics lay everywhere in chaos, but he felt like if he moved something, the balance of the room would be upset

↬ finally comes to a bar that ran from one end of a rack to the other, thin fabrics lining it

↬ the blue-eyed girl takes a beautiful black silk cravat with red embroidery that boldly stood out (yes, he knows what a cravat is, sue him for wanting to know what Mr Knightley, Mr Bingley, and Mr Darcy wore in the books) and drapes it over his neck, critically eyeing it

↬ in the process, pulling him down by the neck to look at it and being very close to her pink plump lips

↬ uhm fuck what do i do what do i say who am i what is life what the fuck austen you didn't prepare me for this-

↬ "as i thought", she says, "this is a good colour scheme for you, but probably more of a black with a tinge of brown and a more muted red colour scheme for everyday use."

↬ she walks away and comes back with a measuring tape and measures his neck, shoulders, arms, and starts measuring around the torso

↬ he doesn't even register this because of how efficient she is and because he was used to it from living with Bruce fucking Wayne (he won't admit that he was just too distracted by the way her dainty little fingers brushed against the back of his ears as she leaned forward to check the measurements, nor when they fluttered against his biceps and chest)

↬ when she's done, she starts writing measurements and mumbling under her breath, which snaps him out of his stupor

↬ "why did you take my measurements?"

↬ "a good cravat needs a good suit, and what better than for me to make a matching one when I have the time and resources to do it?"

↬ she fucking grinned at him like a devious minx who knew more about him than she should and he melted a bit.

↬ just a little bit.

↬ turning around, she stuck her hand out, still smiling like a fucking seductress

↬ "I'll be making your suit and cravats, let's hope to a wonderful relationship, it's going to be a pleasure working with you."

↬ he tried to match her smile, but ended up feeling like a dork with his heart beating 200 times a second. and he felt like an even bigger dork when he took her hand and gave her a small kiss on the knuckles. "believe me, the pleasure is all mine, dove. might i dare, i fain would ask, for your sweet name? that while a rose by any other name would smell as sweet, i feel that yours would double in so."

↬ she smiled back at him.

↬ "why, good sir, it is a good show of faith in the honey to the flower of life, as Hugo quotes, but I wish you would take me to dinner first before such matters. My name, you ask? It is Marinette, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

↬ He smirked. "My name is Jason Todd."

↬ "I know, Monsieur Hood."

↬ "Wait, how the fuck do you know-"

#what the fuck was this #ok this was way longer than planned #designer mari #jasonette #mari is alfred #mari can be overlord #didn't plan for this but it happened #maribat #ml x dc #miraculous ladybug #dc comics #prompt?#headcannon?#what is my life #jason todd #red hood #marinette dupain cheng #jason x marinette #jason thinks she's hot

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lunarianillusion · 3 years

Text

A change in fate

A Maribat fanfic

prologue

Marinette had made a grave mistake that would put the fate of Paris in peril. After a stressful battle, with a murderous akuma along with a sentimonster that could shroud the battlefield with a thick mist and Mayura, she had renounced her miraculous. Her civilian life had been getting more and more miserable thanks to Lie-la and even though she had a small but loyal group of friends it was to much. The omega could not take all the responsibility and Tikki insistence to keep moving forward and to keep doing her best was exhausting to say the least. So, she renounced the little god for a moment of pure silence, but that moment had allowed her to get akumatized.

“Oh, Tikki. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” the girl whispered to herself. A lone tear ran down her cheek, her face blank from any emotion.

______________________________________________________________________

In the aftermath of the battle Marinette had found that a new ladybug had risen. This one seemed to be flaunting her ‘excellence’ and was slandering the previous ladybug with viperous intend.

The noir omega had gone to her master to find out what the plan of action to reclaim the miraculous was going to be. But when she arrived, she was scorned for her negligence in losing the ladybug miraculous.

“You should have been more careful Mrs. Dupain-Cheng. I intrusted you with one of the greatest powers within our universe and you take such lenience with it. This is not a game. Now we do not know who the ladybug wielder is and that could jeopardise the fate of Paris if not the universe,” The old beta berated.

Marinette felt her inner fire begin to boil over once more, but instead of a cold despair like a hours prior, it was a raging inferno. He thought this was a game to her, has he not been paying attention to how Chat Noir was acting at all! And Intrusted! He forced the role of ladybug onto her. With no warning, no prior preparation and the way he chose made her question if he should even have hold over the remaining miraculous. So, she snapped.

“Intrusted?!” The omega shrieked, baring her fangs. “You practically forced the role onto me! With your misguided way of choosing exam and then gave me no training, no guidance and just watched as I tripped every step of the way! You speak of me being lenient, have you even been paying to Chat Noirs behaviour?!”

Fu opened his mouth to interjected, but Marinette did not give him a chance. He would hear what she had to say.

“Do not even try making any excuses for him and do not give that crap about the ladybug and black cat being meant to be together. You know that all the flirting is uncalled for and distracting. How many innocent people have been hurt or worse, because he could not stop harassing me. Let’s also not forget all the times in battle he got mind controlled or straight up killed! He is a thorn in once side, that only adds to my stress. Stress from being ladybug, stress from trying to find Hawkmoth and my civilian life with all of its own responsibilities. I try to be ‘perfect’, but I am only human, and we are not supposed to, as a species, bottle up all of our emotions. So, I am ‘sorry’ if I cracked under all the pressure, but I am not an emotionless doll that you can make do as you will, and I will just go along with it!” Marinette roared.

The omega took several deep breathes. Having finally let out all of her despair, pain and rage. So, now she tried to calm herself and get her flaring spiced up scent, that reflected her raging emotions, under control. She was truly grateful far Wayzz. If not for the small turtle protection around the shop, she would likely have been akumatized again.

“Very well,” the ancient beta sheathed, eyes glaring cold daggers into the omega before him. “Then you shall no longer carry the title of ladybug. I will release you from that burden. You shall never get a miraculous from me again. Cleary you are to unstable now to carry such a great honour. Given with what cast you have matured into.”

Oh, he did not just go there.

“We shall see how the new ladybug does. She might do far better with Chat Noir than you ever did.”

Marinette highly doubted that. She had seen the recording of the fight. Chat noir had been killed halfway through the battle and had been arguing with the new ladybug non-stop before that. Tripping each other up on purpose. The unknown ladybug had only been able to win by the skin of her teeth.

“Now leave my shop and do not come back. You are no longer welcome here.” Fu ended his speech by turning his nose to the girl and staring her down.

The silence in the room was deafening.

After a long moment of getting her emotions under control did Marinette straighten up. Her face a blank emotionless mask, a reflection of her spend emotions, and left the massage parlour. Leaving an enraged old beta and horrified kwami, who truly wished this was all just a big nightmare, behind.

The young omega then aimlessly walked and walked, hoping that buzzing in her head would just stop. He feet brought her to the place where it all began. The battlefield where she fought her last battle as ladybug.

She stood there for maybe an hour. Just standing there, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts and regrets. Before deciding it was time to go home, if she could even call it her home. Her parents no longer trusted her, thanks to Lie-la. They did not abuse her with any violence but did make her work long hours in the bakery when they wanted to go out. Which they had been doing more and more as of late. Other wise they just ignored her. This made her wonder if they ever truly cared for her.

Marinette sighed and was about to turn around. When something caught her eye.

It shined blue and seemed to call to her.

_____________________________________________________________________

Timothy Jackson Drake truly did not wish to leave Gotham, but he could not take anymore of his old pack. Be it the attempts on his life or the neglect that has been growing over the months. The way most of the pack just ignored him on a daily basis made him think of when he was still living with his parents, when they were still alive.

Everything stared to get shaky when Jason retuned from the grave. At first Tim had been exited in small part, since he had always looked up to the second robin. Then came the attempts on his life. Tim knew that in large part that had been the fault of the Lazarus pit and the Al Ghuls, but the scar never fully faded.

His relationship with the older alpha was now shaky at best. They could get along but there were some moments.

And then came Damian Al Ghul Wayne.

Things started to truly spiral for the young alpha with the arrival of the violent pup. In all honesty he could not fully blame all of the violent tendencies on the pup themself. Most of it had come from the way Damian was raised.

The Al Ghuls just loved to fuck with the Wayne pack in more ways than one.

Even that did not excuse most of his actions. The thing that got Tim the most however was how the pack barely reprimanded or the corrected the pup on his behaviour. Even when the demon spawn tried to kill him on so many occasions. He barely got a slap on the wrist. A very slow transition ensued for the pup and Tim because of this and to this day the demon spawn would try to kill him, at the most inconvenient of times.

And then the brat was given the robin mantle. No choice had been given to the youngest alpha in the matter. Dick had just taken the mantle and given it away with barely an explanation given or time for Tim to prepare a new identity before the reveal.

He relationship with his older brother became extremely strained after that.

After that whole debacle he had gone to find Bruce. In a sense hoping that it would help the pack. In a way it did, but Timothy became more and more like a poltergeist to the Wayne pack. He could stand right beside one of them and they just would not notice him.

Thank god for Alfred though if not for the old beta Tim would not have survived to this point.

And was one of the reasons why Timothy wanted to stay. But no, he needed to leave. He first thought of going to the titans but decided against that. He had gotten estranged with his old friends over the years and did not feel comfortable with still being so close to Gotham. No, he needed to start a new.

Which lead to were he is now. On a plane to Paris, staring melancholily out the window. He had prepared everything in advance to erase his old self from the Wayne pack and keep off their radar. There was a reason however for choosing Paris.

While once going through the justice league files, he came across a curious case that had been played off as a prank. It was a call for help from a few years back. It had been made by what had to have been a young teenage hero. She had called saying that a villain by the name of Hawkmoth had shown up and was using negative emotions to turn civilian’s into superpowered pawns to do his bidding. It had been written up as a prank because no calls for help had come for either the French government or the JLE. Then again Guy Gardner was the one to look into the case, so grain of salt. And when Tim looked into the case, he found nothing but nothing as in complete radio silence. As if Paris had completely dropped of the face of the earth news wise.

So, he would take a look himself and see for himself what this was about and if it was truly a prank than he could just find a way to start a new life in the city of love.

#maribat #miraculous ladybug #timinette #peacock miraculous #timari

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writingblock101 · 4 years

Text

Till Kingdom Come (Jason Todd x Reader)

Part 1

Thank you so much to everyone who left a nice comment for me! They made my day and I’m so happy you guys like this fic as much as I do! Without further ado, here is part 2 to For the Kingdom!

Warnings: Various spoilers for Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, To Kill a Mockingbird, and The Outsiders

Word Count: 5,000

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @jaybirdxarsenal @palefiregiver @because-icanhide @nakedszn

Jason didn’t talk to you like he told Dick he would. He was scared to face you after causing so much pain during something that is supposed to bring pleasure. Why would you want to see him? Besides, Jason would end up saying something stupid and making you cry.

As he walks by the library, Jason pauses, backtracking and staring into the huge room. When he first tried giving gifts, he tried guessing what you were interested in and failed. So, instead of trying to guess what you might like, what if Jason shows you things about him and hopefully gives you a reason to not be scared of him?

. . .

The next morning, you receive another gift from Jason. You open the box, expecting to find clothing or jewelry, but instead, you find a book with a note: I’m sorry about last night. I don’t want our marriage to be built on fear. I’m willing to try and make this work if you are.

You smile sadly at the note then look down at the book: Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

. . .

It takes two days to finish the book. It was absolutely fantastic and bizarre, and now you want to talk about the book, but you’re not sure who to speak to. Jason doesn’t strike you as the reading type… Maybe Alfred suggested it.

You wander the castle in search of Alfred until you find him in the kitchen.

“Mrs. Y/N,” He greets, finishing cooking lunch. “I see you received Master Jason’s gift, did you enjoy it?”

“Yes,” You smile, sitting down at the island in the kitchen. “Giving a book was a great idea.”

Alfred smiles.

“Yes, Master Jason is quite fond of his books. He’ll be thrilled to hear you enjoyed it.”

You blink.

“So… Jason likes reading?”

Alfred chuckles.

“Very much. Why else would he give you a book?”

“I don’t know,” You say quietly. “I thought he was trying to find something to relate with I guess… I never took him for the reading type.”

“You have a lot to learn about your husband, Mrs. Y/N,” Alfred turns, placing two sandwiches and a bowl of fruit on a tray then holds the tray out to you. “Master Jason is in his office and I’m sure looking for a distraction. Would you care to bring him lunch?”

You stare at the tray, doubt racing through your mind.

“What if he doesn’t want to talk to me?”

“I assure you, Mrs. Y/N, Master Jason has been desperately trying to come up with ways to talk to you. He will be delighted to have lunch with you.”

He’s been desperately trying to come up with a way to talk to you? Really? The look on Alfred’s face shows that he won’t take ‘no’ for an answer so you hesitantly take the tray from him and walk to Jason’s office.

The door is shut and the sandwiches are getting warm the longer you stare at it. Just knock, that’s all. This is your husband. You’ve seen him naked. You can knock on the door.

Master Jason has been desperately trying to come up with ways to talk to you. He will be delighted to have lunch with you.

Alfred wouldn’t lie to you. Just knock on the door. You reach out a hand and knock hesitantly.

“What?” Jason calls from the other side of the door.

Your heart rate speeds up. He sounds irritated. This is a bad idea.

“I um… I have lunch from Alfred, but if you’re not hungry, that’s okay. I can just leave,” You ramble then the door opens, revealing a surprised Jason.

“Y/N,” He greets then blinks. “Um… hi.”

“Hi,” You respond, then neither of you speak for a moment.

“Uh… You said you had lunch?” Jason asks.

“Yes! Right, the whole reason I came here!” You hold up the tray, giggling nervously.

“Would… You care to join me for lunch?” Jason asks hesitantly.

You smile.

“That would be nice.”

He takes the tray from you and brings you into his office, you sitting on one side while he opts to sit behind his desk then you both begin silently eating. You’re about halfway through your sandwich when Jason speaks.

“How’s your day been?”

“It’s been good,” You nod. “How’s your day been?”

Jason shrugs.

“It’s been a lot of meetings.”

“Oh?” You ask.

Jason recalls you mentioning the lack of independence given to you by your mother.

“Yeah,” He nods. “We’ve been tracking Dent for months now. We hired Frank Castle to keep him from entering Murdock’s territory, but now Dent is forming an alliance with Bane’s kingdom and it’s a nightmare,” Jason sighs.

“Sounds like it,” You sympathize.

Honestly, you had no idea who Jason was talking about since you were never allowed information about your parents’ kingdom affairs, but you appreciate him telling you.

“I finished Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” You tell him randomly.

“Yeah?” Jason asks. “What did you think?”

“It was...good,” You admit, looking a little puzzled.

“You don’t seem confident in that answer.”

Your eyes widen and you rush to rephrase your answer, worried that Jason will think you’re ungrateful for the gift.

“No! No, I liked it! I really did! I just...”

“It’s bizarre?” Jason offers.

“Yeah...” You agree. “Bizare is a good word for it.”

He grins.

“Yeah, it’s a weird book. But I want to hear what you really thought.”

You pause, studying Jason’s earnest expression. You should be able to share freely with your husband. He hasn’t given you any reason to feel as though you were in danger. He’s encouraging you to speak your mind. You take a breath.

“It was good and I liked it, but I think a lot of it may have gone over my head.”

Jason chuckles.

“Yeah, I think it was supposed to. Honestly, when I finished it, my first thought was “what the fuck?”.”

You laugh.

“That’s how I felt! Then, of course, I started thinking about if mice actually ran the world and if we were really their lab rats.”

“That part messed with my head so much,” Jason admits. “As humans, we think we’re the dominant species or whatever and we’ve seen other humans manipulate us, but we really don’t know what capacity other animals have to manipulate us. Especially if they are smart enough to hide their intelligence from us.”

“That whole idea kind of reminds me of Toy Story where the toys secretly came to life without any human ever knowing. I always wonder what goes on that we don’t know about… Is there some secret universe within our world that we just don’t get to know about?”

“You know, given how many haunted doll movies exist, I’d prefer if that secret universe doesn’t consist of inanimate objects coming to life.”

You laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“Not a fan of Chucky?”

“Not really. I don’t mess with demons or ghosts or whatever possesses them,” Jason admits.

“Fair,” You nod then your mind follows a new train of thought. “I like that it started with something that was definitely a problem-- I mean, the guy’s house was about to be demolished-- but that problem becomes so small in comparison to all the crazy stuff that was about to happen.”

“Right?” Jason nods along. “It makes you wonder about the big picture and how much of it we can’t see.”

“There are so many possibilities in the universe,” You elaborate. “There are so many things out there that exist and we don’t even know about them. It makes you feel... small.”

“Yeah… It really makes you think about what you see as a problem,” Jason looks over at the map of various wars. “I know I’m going after people that are evil and hurting others, but sometimes I wonder about the bigger picture, you know? Am I actually making a difference or am I just part of the problem?”

You stare at the map for a long time, your eyes tracing where Dent retreated into Bane’s kingdom, mulling over Jason’s words. No one ever truly knows their impact. They hope they can understand it, but at the end of the day, individual lives are complex. Who knows if they are making a difference?

For the first time, you see Jason’s true intentions with running the kingdom. He wants the best for others and his kingdom. He doesn’t go to war for the thrill of violence, he goes to war to protect his kingdom and to help others. Despite the stories, they aren’t showing a true version of Jason. He is ruthless because he wants to protect his people and he’s afraid he isn’t protecting his people. Jason is... caring.

“I guess that’s what life is…” You say slowly. “We try to make a difference and hope we aren’t contributing to the problem. I don’t think we will ever know, but we’re trying our best…”

Jason nods along, still staring solemnly at the map. This is something that seems to haunt Jason, but it shouldn’t. He isn’t adding to the problem and you feel confident in that, but clearly, he is doubtful. Before his brain can further torture him, you smile and break the silence:

“Oh, and of course, 42.”

Jason laughs, tossing his head back at your joke. You feel your face heating up with a blush and a small flicker of pride for making him laugh.

“How could I forget?” He grins then glances down at the empty tray. “Thanks for eating lunch with me. I wasn’t sure you’d want to talk to me.”

You shrug, avoid his gaze. Embarrassment burns on your face from that night.

“It wasn’t your fault,” You say, even though your nervousness did originate with Jason’s presence. He still did everything he could to help you relax. “You did your best, and you’re trying, so I think it’s time I gave the same effort. I want to make this work too,” You smile then stand and collect the tray. “I’ll see you later.”

Once outside of Jason’s office, you smile softly to yourself. Maybe Jason isn’t so bad...

. . .

The next book he gives you is To Kill a Mockingbird.

You shyly hang around the kitchen, wanting to talk to Jason about the book. While you know he would probably be more than willing to talk to you--he did give you the book-- something is holding you back. Finally, Alfred hands you a tray with a knowing smile.

“I believe you have someone waiting for you.”

You smile back and take the tray to Jason’s office.

Like last time, Jason updates you on the war against Dent then the conversation turns to the book.

“That was just…” You shake your head. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” Jason nods. “It’s intense.”

“I can’t believe they actually convicted Tom Robinson,” You admit. “I was kind of hoping it was going to have a happy ending where they beat the odds but…”

“But instead it’s a smack from reality,” Jason finishes.

“It’s mind-boggling that people used to be like that,” You pause. “Okay, maybe not, it makes sense because racism still exists but to that extent? I mean, I’m sure it still unfortunately happens, but…”

“It really makes you wonder about people.”

“Yeah, it does. I actually really like reading about trials. Government is kind of… Stupid, but the judicial system is interesting.”

“I agree that government is stupid. Too many damn politics.”

“Good thing you’re running a kingdom,” You laugh.

Jason sighs, shaking his head.

“It’s so unnecessarily complicated. Yes, people are complicated in general and someone is always going to be unhappy and whatever, but I hate how much of this is based on who you know and how you know them and have you pissed them off recently.”

“It’s a people-pleasing game.”

“Yeah, and I hate it. Who cares if I pissed off some advisor for the Stark kingdom? It’s not my kingdom, it shouldn’t be my concern.”

“Stark kingdom?” You ask.

“Yeah, you know, the big flashy one out west?” Jason prompts.

You hesitate, tempted to say that you knew exactly who Jason was talking about, but changed your mind and opted to be truthful.

“No, I honestly have never heard of that kingdom… Or really, any of the other kingdoms you’ve mentioned.”

“Really?” Jason asks. “But you were royalty, how did you not know about other kingdoms?”

You shrug, shyly picking at a loose thread.

“My mother had a very specific idea about how I should be raised. She basically raised me to be a wife,” You roll your eyes. “So I never got to know about politics in the kingdom, places outside the kingdom, how to fight, hell, it’s a miracle I can even read--”

“Wait,” Jason interrupts. “Fighting? You don’t even know how to defend yourself?”

“No, she just wanted me to be some helpless little princess and marry some strong rich prince,” You remark bitterly.

Jason looks down at his desk for a moment, looking a little ashamed. Fuck, why did I run my mouth?

“I don’t mean you! I know it sounded like I did, but I promise I don’t--”

He shrugs, waving you off.

“I get it, that basically is what happened,” Jason admits. “But that’s bullshit. Some of the best fighters I have are women. I’m going to--” He paused, remembering how much of your life you lived against your will and rephrased himself. “Would you like to learn how to fight?”

Your face lit up and Jason kicked himself for not offering earlier. Seeing you excited made his heart skip a beat.

“Really?”

“Of course,” Jason grins. “I want my wife to kick ass like the badass that she is.”

. . .

“Okay, so we’ll start with the basics,” Jason says, the two of you in the castle's extensive training room. “Do you know how to form a proper fist?”

“Thumb not tucked it,” You say as you form a proper fist, one of the few pieces of information you managed to sneak from your kingdom’s general.

“Exactly,” Jason agrees. “You’ll break your thumb if you try to tuck it. For standing, you want your dominant foot behind you, slight bend in your knees,” He demonstrates. “Your hands are up by your face, protecting you.”

You copy his stance, protecting your face.

“Good,” Jason praises. “This is your fighter’s guard. You always stay in this. When I say reset, you go back to your fighter’s guard. Whenever you are punching or kicking, there is always at least one hand protecting your face.”

You nod along, still holding your fighter’s guard and listening intently.

“We’ll start with a simple jab. This punch doesn’t have a lot of power, but it’s fast and can catch your enemy off guard. Something important to know is that the power in your punches doesn’t come from your arm, it comes from your hips,” He does the punch slowly, emphasizing how his shoulders and hips move into the punch. “Why don’t you try it?”

You punch the air, moving your shoulders and hips the same way Jason did.

“Good, when you’re punching, don’t aim any higher than your shoulder height or you’re going to hurt yourself. Okay, so the next punch is one for power, it’s your cross,” He stands in his fighter’s guard then with his back arm, punches forward, twisting his body and pivoting his back foot. “See how I pivoted?” Jason asks, twisting his foot. “That’s where the power comes from because by pivoting, you’re twisting your hips and using your body weight as opposed to brute force. Try it.”

You frown, trying to move your body like Jason’s, but you focus too much on the pivot that your shoulders don’t move.

“Close, but remember to let your shoulders naturally move with your body so your torso is facing me.”

You try again, but instead of focusing on your hips, you focus on your shoulders, causing your hips to remain stationary.

“You’re thinking about them as two separate movements, but it’s all just one movement,” Jason steps behind you and puts his hands on your hips but feels you tense at the contact. “Is this… okay?” He asks, realizing he may have overstepped despite the fact that you two have had sex.

“No, it’s okay,” You say back, feeling tingles where he’s holding you.

“Okay, throw your cross,” As you turn your shoulders, Jason turns your hips, forcing your foot to pivot.

“You feel that?” He mutters to you, shivers shooting down your spine at the feeling of his breath on the back of your neck.

“Yeah,” You answer breathlessly.

“Do it again.”

You throw the punch again, his hands moving your hips again then Jason moves out from behind you. You feel a little cold now that his presence behind you is gone.

“Now do it when I’m not moving your hips.”

You throw the cross again, your shoulders and hips moving perfectly.

“Atta girl,” He grins.

You can’t help but grin back.

Jason knows you’re still not completely comfortable around him, but you’re trying. With each day, Jason can see your walls wearing down. He hopes one day you’ll fall in love with him because he thinks he may be falling for you.

. . .

Jason walks into his office and notices a box sitting on his desk, which is odd since Alfred didn’t mention any deliveries. The packaging is plain, with no indicators of where it came from or who sent it. Jason frowns but opens the box. Inside are two books and a note: Beowulf and Grendel.

I figured it was my turn to give you a book. Read Beowulf first then Grendel. It’s my favorite.

Jason grins to himself, flipping open the first page of Beowulf.

. . .

You and Jason fall into a routine. Every other day, he teaches you to fight and about twice a week, you join him for lunch and discuss the latest book you sent each other. Now, you don’t hesitate to waltz into his office and have lunch with him.

“You’re terrible!” You insist, bursting into Jason’s office with lunch.

He looks up from the documents on his desk with a smirk.

“So, you finished the book?”

“‘So, you finished the book’,” You mock. “Yeah, I finished the book and it made me cry. It’s paper! It’s not allowed to do that!”

Jason laughs, sitting back in his chair.

“Which part?”

“Oh, I don’t know: When Ponyboy is reunited with Darry and Sodapop, when Johnny died, when Dally died, when Ponyboy almost died.”

Jason nods along.

“Yeah, it’s pretty brutal.”

“But it was so good,” You grin, setting the tray down on Jason’s desk, but frown at his tied face. “You okay?” You ask.

Jason waves you off.

“I’ll be fine, I’m just tired.”

You frown, rounding the desk.

“You didn’t come to bed last night.”

“Yeah,” Jason admits, scrubbing his face. “It was a long night. I didn’t want to wake you.”

You feel your heart swell with affection and reach forward, running your fingers through Jason’s hair. He closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. Ever since Jason broke the invisible wall around you when it came to physical contact, you’ve started showing Jason more physical affection.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

Jason sighs, forcing his eyes open.

“Dent’s gone underground. We can’t find him or Bane. Rumors are flying around that they are trying to make a super-soldier army. Bane has dabbled in that in the past so the likelihood they can pull it off is alarmingly high.”

“You’ll find him,” You reassure. “There’s only so many places he can hide.”

“Yeah,” Jason nods in agreement. “It’s just frustrating. I hate not being able to do anything.”

“You are doing something,” You insist, knowing how much he hates the politics surrounding his kingdom. “You’ll find Dent,” Your hand moves to rest on his cheek.

He lifts his hand to cover yours, leaning into your touch.

“Thank you,” He says softly, then the door opens, unannounced.

A young man you haven’t seen before waltzed in followed closely by one of Jason’s advisors.

“I apologize, sir,” The advisor begins. “I was unaware you had company.”

“As I usually do during lunch,” Jason growls, standing up.

You walk over to stand next to Jason.

“And what lovely company you do have,” The man grins, shaking your hand then pressing a kiss to the top of it. “Billy Russo,” He introduces with a charming smile.

“Y/N,” You smile, shyly taking your hand back from Billy.

He winks at you.

“Russo,” Jason greets tightly. “I see you’ve met my wife,” Jason wraps a protective arm around your waist, leveling Billy out with a deadly glare.

“Wife?” Billy asks in surprise. “My apologies. I was unaware you were married.”

You notice Jason’s jaw is still clenched, so you lean against him, wrapping your own arm around his back and squeezing him lightly. He glares at Billy for a moment, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Billy watches with interest, quirking an eyebrow then tucks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels.

"I was informed you have a proposition for me?”

Jason sighs, turning to you.

“Sorry to cut lunch short--”

“Nope, go run your kingdom,” You insist then lean up and kiss him on the cheek.

Jason looks shocked for a moment, but grins and easily kisses your head fondly.

“Rain check?”

“Damn right,” You grin, then walk out of the room, leaving your husband to run his kingdom, your cheeks burning with excitement. Seeing him get a little jealous and protective when Billy came in? You liked that.

. . .

You stretch your arm across your chest, waiting for Jason to join you on the mats. This week, you’ve been working on kicks, your favorites being the roundhouses. They’re powerful, fast, and they make you feel badass.

Living with Jason has been...nice. At first, you were angry, reluctant, and scared, but things have been getting better. Jason admitted that he’s never really dated before and now he’s married so it’s been one hell of a learning curve.

Between your unofficial book club and fighting lessons, you’re learning a lot about your husband, mainly that he is a gigantic dork. More importantly, you’re learning that Jason is more than the stories you’ve heard about him-- he’s caring, patient, charming, and fiercely protective. He’s incredibly smart, stubborn, and snarky. Jason sees you as an individual, as his equal and treats you as such. You’re extremely grateful for him and the independence he has effortlessly given you.

It feels weird to have a crush on your husband, but you can feel yourself falling hard. A smile stretches across your face as you think about the lovely flowers Jason left on the dresser for you this morning. While the kingdom has kept him busy and usually gone before you’re awake, Jason still finds ways to leave things for you. You do the same for him, usually through the form of a note on his desk, or bringing him lunch on days when he’s busy with meetings.

Your marriage is odd and developing, but you’re both making it work.

As you’re thinking about Jason, the door opens and your husband walks in, looking exhausted. You frown at his tired face.

“Hey,” He greets through a yawn, stretching tall.

“Hey,” You frown. “You okay?”

Jason pauses, rubbing his eyes for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m good. I’m just tired.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t do our fighting lesson today,” You suggest.

“No,” Jason shakes his head. “I’m okay, really.”

“Jason, you look dead on your feet.”

“I’m fine,” Jason snaps, causing you to recoil, but he sighs, collecting himself. “Sorry, I’m just tired. It’s been a long day.”

You frown, taking a step closer, running your fingers through his hair. He leans into you, closing his eyes for a moment.

“What’s going on?” You ask.

Jason sighs again, his shoulders slumping.

“Dent’s armies wiped out two villages last night. There weren’t any survivors.”

You feel your heartache for those families. While Jason was a fairly ruthless general, he always prioritized keeping innocent casualties to an absolute minimum. He’s protective of his people and innocent bystanders.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper to him, knowing the frustration building up inside him.

“Yeah, me too,” He admits.

“You’re doing everything you can,” You insist.

“But it’s not enough,” Jason’s jaw clenches. “So many people died because I’m not moving fast enough. We keep trying to play this defensive strategy game instead of just hitting him where it hurts.”

“This isn’t all on you, Jason,” You cradle his face. “Unfortunately, it’s not just your choice and you’re doing what you can.”

“But it should be!” Jason explodes, pulling away from you to angrily pace. “People’s lives are on the line. Who the hell cares about politics?!”

You say nothing, letting him rant.

“This shouldn’t be a people-pleasing game! We found Dent! So now, we need to take him down! We shouldn’t be waiting!”

“So, why are you?” You ask.

Jason’s jaw clenches.

“We’re working with the Russo kingdom now and they’re afraid Dent actually made super soldiers so their gathering intel before making a move.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing…” You point out hesitantly.

“It is when people who had absolutely nothing to do with this are getting slaughtered!” Jason snaps. “Nobody in either of those villages were associated with this kingdom or Russo’s. They didn’t leave any survivors, not even kids,” His voice went quiet. “Between those two villages, fifty-three kids died.”

You step toward him, grabbing Jason’s hands.

“Those deaths are not on you,” You tell him. “You’re doing what you can. I know it’s frustrating to watch people die when you have the power to do something, but Russo is right. If Dent and Bane are working together to make super soldiers, you have to know what you and your men are walking into so you don’t have more casualties.”

Jason sighs, looking down and playing with your fingers. He’s frustrated and feels helpless. People are dying and Jason has the resources and ability to stop it, but instead, he is restricted by politics. You know nothing you say to him will truly help, but you offer support anyways.

“I know…” He finally admits. “I know Russo is right… It’s just… Frustrating.”

“I know it is,” You frown, pulling Jason into a hug.

He slumps into you, pulling you close, his head on your shoulder.

“You need to sleep, Jase.”

“I did sleep.”

“You didn’t get an actual good night’s sleep,” You pull away from him, forcing him to look at you. “It’s the third time this week you didn’t come to bed.”

“There’s just...” He sighs. “A lot going on.”

“I understand that, but you need to take care of yourself,” You cup his face with one hand, pushing a few loose strands of hair off his face.

Jason smiles softly at you, placing his hand on top of yours.

“How did I get lucky enough to have you as my wife?”

You grin and shrug.

“Looks like the odds were in your favor.”

Jason rolls his eyes but smiles and pulls you into another hug, kissing the top of your head.

"Come on,” You say, pulling him away from the hug and toward the door. “We’re going to go take a nap.”

“We?” Jason asks, looking a little hopeful.

“How else am I supposed to make sure you actually sleep?” You tease, excitement building in your stomach.

Jason grins then you two head to your bedroom and change into something comfortable. You climb into bed, then face Jason and hesitantly open your arms to him, hoping you’re not overstepping. Jason smiles then climbs into bed with you, laying against your chest. You run your fingers through his hair and down his back, feeling him relax under your touch.

“Thank you,” Jason mutters, tightening his arms around you.

“Of course,” You murmur back, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

. . .

Jason lunges forward but you catch his arm, bend your knees and force him to roll over your shoulder, letting gravity do the work. He hits the ground with a hard ‘oof’ and you jump on him instantly, trapping his arms under your feet.

“That was good,” He praises.

You shrug with a sheepish grin.

“I have a pretty good teacher.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jason raises his eyebrows. “Well, he can’t be that good.”

You furrow your eyebrows.

“What?”

Then before you can react, Jason is hooking his arms under your legs and quickly flipping you to the ground, pinning you to the floor.

“Because he clearly hasn’t taught you the importance of keeping your guard up,” He mutters, his chest pressed against yours.

“Well, I guess I was a little distracted,” You respond, breathlessly, looking at Jason with a coy grin.

When you first saw Jason, you registered him as attractive, but fear kept you from appreciating how handsome he is. Now, as you stare up at your husband, dark hair, blue eyes, flushed cheeks, and muscular shoulders, you know he’s hot.

“Distracted you say?” Jason hums. “We can’t have that, now can we?” He asks, his eyes flickering to your lips.

You stare at him for a moment, your chests heaving as you both catch your breath. His eyes flicker down again and he slowly begins leaning down, giving you time to pull away from him.

Instead, you surge up, tangling one hand in his hair, pulling him down to you and connect your lips. You haven’t kissed him since you had sex with him. You were nervous and apprehensive, but now? You trust Jason completely, even with his body weight pinning you to the ground. He would never intentionally hurt you and cares deeply for you.

You weren’t ready the first time, but now, you have never felt more confident in your life.

Jason melts into the kiss, bracing his arms on either side of your head. Your free hand grips his shirt, pulling him even closer to you, but Jason pulls away and sits up, dragging you into his lap.

You kiss him again, cradling his face in your hands while his hands trace up your sides. You open your mouth into the kiss, allowing Jason to slip his tongue inside, his hands running under your shirt. Breaking away, you toss your shirt over your head with a giggle while he does the same then pulls you in for another kiss.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” He breathes, his thumbs stroking your sides.

You blush at the compliment, running your hands down his strong arms. Jason leans in again, kissing you slowly and dragging your hips against his. You grin into the kiss, pushing your hips down equally as hard.

Jason breaks away again.

“You sure about this?” He asks breathlessly.

A few months ago, you would’ve been fearful of Jason hurting you, but you know the man in front of you would never lay a hand on you and will protect you at all costs. He’s stubborn and a bit of an ass sometimes, but he’s also loving and passionate. You feel your heart swell with affection for the man in front of you-- your husband.

“I love you,” You say simply.

Jason’s face goes blank with shock.

“What did you say?” He whispers.

“I love you,” You repeat without an ounce of hesitation.

Jason stares at you for a long moment, then surges forward, kissing you deeply. One of his hands tangles in your hair, pulling you closer to him while the other wraps around your waist, your body flush against his.

“I never thought I would hear you say that,” He admits, pressing his forehead to yours. “I never thought I would hear anyone say that to me.”

You grin, cradling his face with your hands.

“I’m in love with you, Jason,” You repeat.

Jason pushes your back to the ground, kissing you again. Your legs wrap around his waist as he conveys as much passion into the kiss as possible before finally breaking away and resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m in love with you too, Y/N,” He grins.

You pull him down for a soft kiss then Jason starts trailing kisses down your neck. You tilt your head back and impatiently pull on his shorts.

“Are we really about to do this here?” He chuckles into your neck.

“Hell yeah,” You grin.

Jason grins back and kisses you again, helping you pull your sports bra over your head.

. . .

One round of sex eventually turned to two then three then you finally made your way upstairs only to have sex again in bed. You trace your fingers across Jason’s chest as he cards his fingers through your hair.

The first time you had sex, it was painful and scary. You felt pressured by the kingdom and were still scared of Jason, but the second time? Well, you don’t ride horses, but damn you love to ride your husband.

Jason wraps his arm around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“So, what next Mrs. Todd?” He asks.

“Hm… I’m kind of hungry,” You admit.

“Yeah?” Jason asks. “Me too. Sandwiches?” He offers.

“Yeah,” You nod. “But not the cucumber ones Alfred makes. I want a ham sandwich.”

“I’m sure we can arrange that,” Jason agrees.

You toss back the covers and pull on a pair of shorts then steal one of Jason’s shirts. He grins at the sight of you in his shirt and pulls on a pair of sweatpants before walking over to you.

“I like when you wear my clothes,” He whispers, pulling you in for another long kiss and slipping his hands under the shirt.

You grin into the kiss then Jason tosses you over his shoulder.

“Jason!” You exclaim.

“Yeah, doll?” He asks, opening the door.

“What are you doing?!”

“You said you wanted a sandwich!” He starts walking down the hall. “So we’re going to the kitchen.”

“Put me down!” You demand through laughs.

“No can do, sweetheart.”

You two were going to be just fine.

Thank you for reading and for everyone who left a reply! If you have any requests, let me know and I’ll see what I can do! Until then, catch me writing random inspiration that comes to mind!

Part 3

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd #red hood #jason todd au #red hood au #royalty!au #royalty!jason #dick grayson #nightwing #billy russo #where are my punisher fans?#futuristic kingdom au #don't ask me questions about the time period #cause idk #red hood headcanons #jason todd headcanon #reques #imagines

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h-sleepingirl · 4 years

Text

Personal Reflection on Hypnosis and Magic

I was fairly obsessed with magic as a child. I grew up in a secular household -- my mother’s side was mixed Christian but she didn’t inherit the beliefs and my father’s side was Jewish but not observant. We did Christmas and Chanukah and Easter for a little while but just as a cultural practice; we never went to church or synagogue and we never even had conversations about God.

I liked fantasy novels a lot, and I liked Harry Potter, and for a bit of time around age 8 I was making a concerted effort to transform into a unicorn. I found sticks outside and pretended they were wands with the neighborhood kids. Fairly standard. It was no surprise that when I started wondering if I should attempt to connect to spirituality in some way as a teen I discovered Neopaganism and Wicca. It was a lot of shy reading in the 130 section at the library and keeping a Book of Shadows and learning how to meditate and all the bells and whistles of ritual and correspondences.

I remember sneaking outside and kneeling in the grass in the backyard under the moon, I remember going to Salem for the first time. I felt like sometimes maybe I was communicating with gods or divine powers but I never was able to buy in, despite completing my year-and-a-day dedication and making the actions a part of my life for several years, on and off. Starting to smoke weed in college refreshed my curiosity and reinforced belief to some degree, of course, but eventually, I had to come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t something I should force myself to do if I didn’t truly feel a connection to it.

But though I dropped the label and identification, the rituals of Wicca (and Feri witchcraft, which I had started exploring) had filled a role for me that childhood religion does for most. They became something I was comfortable conceptualizing, something that I had gained innate familiarity with, even if I ultimately eschewed the spiritual and metaphysical.

Hypnosis was never connected to that, for me; it felt sacrilegious to make an association between something that was supposed to be sacred and divine and something that was, for a long time, a shameful part of my sexuality. But it was around the same time that I was earnestly practicing magic that I began really studying and doing hypnosis.

A partner of mine at that time -- with whom I was doing hypnosis -- asked me, “Isn’t hypnotic trance the same thing as meditation?”

Naively, I vehemently disagreed.

The big-name NLP practitioners are obsessed with calling what they do “magic.” “The Structure of Magic,” “Frogs Into Princes,” etc. Their books are filled to the brim with the metaphor that people who use language effectively are wizards, because language is a representation of the world and has the capability to transform (or “trance-form,” as they say).

I struggled with hypnosis for a long time -- both trancing others and being tranced myself -- for a variety of reasons. But one of them was that I always felt like other people wanted to do stuff with hypnosis, while I just wanted to do hypnosis itself. For a while even when I was more comfortable in my skin, I described myself as “boring” -- I liked things like fractionation and really deep trance and control, but I struggled with articulating if I had attractions to specific activities. Doll play? Sure, I guess that’s fun. Oh, is the induction over already? Ok…

This mirrored an issue I had while practicing Wicca -- spells were always meant to do something, invite love, heal, connect with the divine, whatever. But while I often wanted to do magic, I had a difficult time deciding on what to do with it. This was made even more complex when I realized I was likely stuck as a nonbeliever -- why did I sometimes return to the rituals, and what was I trying to achieve? How could I incorporate it into my life without feeling disingenuous?

Even up until a year ago, when I tried out tarot and kept asking the cards, “What is my relationship with magic?” -- twofold, looking for an answer (that never came), as well as to have the opportunity to simply try to read cards when I had no actual pressing questions I could think of (ironic).

Bandler et al, as well, work within a model where goals and change are the purpose of magic.

What I was seeking, the whole time, was not using any of these processes for anything, but simply to feel the thing I felt while doing them that was both difficult to illustrate and uniquely recognizable, unlike anything else.

Once I realized this, I used to try to describe it in hypnosis as that I wanted to focus on the induction, or that I didn’t care what we did, or that “change” wasn’t important to me. But that’s not accurate, either. Transformation, manifestation sates that desire when done in a certain way -- surely then I think that NLP perfectly describes my model?

My hesitation there is that I think for myself, it is the pure exhilaration from doing the thing that is what feels like the sweet spot, and it’s not dependent on what direction it goes, what form it takes, or what goal is being achieved.

For me, that feeling of “doing magic” and “doing hypnosis” are completely interchangeable. It is a pure thrill. It is a specific feeling in my mind and body that I can attempt to describe but can never fully enunciate. It changes and shifts but it is always recognizable on some level.

It is much more like doing recreational drugs than it is about prescribing something. Purely hedonistically, I am seeking a high.

I don’t believe in magic. I have had a handful of experiences in my life that have made me deeply question that at times, and they are experiences that I have never reconciled, but that is sort of besides the point. Nothing has ever pushed me into a place where I am able to fully embrace the concept that magic exists in any real sense.

But when I do hypnosis, it is impossible not to work within this model. How else am I supposed to describe what it feels like when I look at someone and know what they are thinking, or I just imagine my will suppressing theirs and their eyes flutter, or I think about what I want and my mouth starts moving elegantly in a way that makes it happen? In kinesthetic hypnosis, it is almost too much. My muscle memory is to do things like manifest energy flowing into and through my fingers, affecting my partner, and it was years of trying rituals like blue fire Feri meditations that made that so easy to feel.

It is not that I can make an easy statement like “hypnosis is magic.” It is not literally true. But as a metaphor, it holds a lot of potency. And magic is a powerful and ubiquitous metaphor; it is culturally ingrained in us in the stories we tell and our history. It is vague; there is no universal definition of it, which allows us to stretch it extensively and apply it wherever we feel it fits.

Metaphor itself is a type of magic, and this is one area where my thoughts about the metaphysical qualities of hypnosis shine through. Magic is about symbolism. We use objects, words, actions that we assign meaning to in order to manifest something. Herbs are purported to have affinities for different concepts so we include them in ritual -- and it’s not just that those affinities are inherent; there is meaning behind the correspondences that works best when we understand it. Similarly, when we are attempting to relate a concept to someone, we often do so indirectly, by telling a story, by creating metaphors or associations.

I don’t believe in magic, so to some degree, when I do it, that action is metaphorical. I am using actions that I don’t literally believe to hold any power in order to find a feeling; I am telling a story about a journey in order to find a real destination. This holds true to one of my beliefs, that symbols themselves hold little to no objective meaning. NLP and Alfred Korzybski say, “The map is not the territory; the word is not the thing; this is not a pipe; there is no objective truth.” Our entire world is made of symbols and metaphors that we all have to buy into in order to function as humans. We assign values to things that intrinsically have much different or nonexistent value -- prices, nostalgia, connotation. A magical symbol, in my eyes, is only as powerful as the connections we’re able to make with it in our minds. Color associations are symbolic. The action of casting a circle is symbolic.

Words are symbols as well, and I do drink the Kool-aid with NLP on this, to some degree. I think about how words are dependent on a vast, intangible amount of variables in order to settle on their presumed, subjective interpretation by a listener or reader. We do this processing as well as thinking about our intent unconsciously, for the most part. If I assume that language is at least partially representative of our experiences and worlds, that gives communication a lot of power, and sure, yes, fine, that smells like magic to me, I’ll take your 20th tired book now Mr. Bandler, sir.

So to some degree the metaphor of magic is about things that are too big, or too grand, or too unknowable to talk about concretely. We often say something is magical when it is difficult or impossible to explain any other way. I can talk plenty about unconscious reading and microexpressions and altered states and language patterns and any number of artifacts that factor into hypnosis, but although it’s fascinating to know about them and helpful to consider and learn, I don’t often think about them when it actually comes down to it. I used to, but not for a while, and there is surely something to be said there for what “becoming experienced” means in both concepts.

It connects to when I think about what things we tend to call “magical” in hypnosis. When I respond without conscious effort, when something is “too fast,” when I feel like I can just purely make someone do something amazing. Sure, it can be easy enough to pick those apart and use academic language and explain them, but sometimes I drive myself insane trying to do that when I just want to say, “It’s magic; it feels like magic.”

After leaving my exploration of witchcraft for a while, I ended up adopting parts of it back into my life. I had more connection to the holidays on the Wheel of the Year than any others, really, and Wiccan ritual feels natural to me. I don’t call myself a witch, and I struggled for a long time looking for a label that fits what I do.

When I picked it back up, it was for a Samhain (Halloween) ritual to show my partner. It had been years, but I felt more comfortable casting a circle and doing all the things than I ever had been. I realized that my magic practice had begun to look a lot more like my hypnosis practice. I was speaking and acting unconsciously, simply filtering whispers of my intent through my words and actions. I had no plan and was following no script, but I knew what to do and say. We were both in very deep trance and we could feel the boundary of the circle as a physical thing, the air buzzing. It was the first moment that I had allowed a harmonious marriage between my knowledge of witchcraft and my practice of hypnosis, and I got the druglike thrill that I always seek. We sat in the circle for an hour, unbeknownst to us.

I did some searching to try to find if others had a similar experience or worldview. The best I could describe what I was doing was “psychological magic” or “witchcraft-flavored hypnosis.” I found very little; chaos magic and secular witchcraft were not what I was searching for.

Despite feeling a little lost, the experience reignited my desire for magical ritual. It has always been complicated to go through the motions that logically have no objective power to me, and saying that I give them power feels like a cop-out when I feel like I give them nothing. To some degree, equating it to hypnosis on any level feels like a crutch, but it’s one I’m used to; after all, there is plenty of me that doesn’t really believe in hypnosis, either -- “Hypnosis is bullshit.”

But “spellwork” became the most effortless thing in the world to me when it used to be so careful and unsure and measured. I take my props, I think about what they could symbolize, I think about how they connect to all the other ingredients available to me. I assign value and meaning through those connections and logic in a pattern my brain knows all too well. It is just like manipulation, and I use that to feel things. Creating rituals is just like giving a good suggestion; identify the message of the utterance and craft something poignant and poetic with the tools at hand to give it meaning. In hypnosis, the tools are your place in the story/trance, your vocabulary, the tone, the props, your history and the history of the person you’re with. In magic, the tools are the same, but possibly with a different flavor. A hypnotic tool is the logic that the word “deeper” is a sensory-rich word; a magical tool is the logic that clockwise motion can be equated to “more.” Both tools are malleable.

I mentioned poetry, and I think for me, one of the most important parts of good magic (and good hypnosis) is that it’s beautiful in some way. Wicca, like other religions, puts emphasis on reverence. Even many secular witches will be awed by nature and use that as a motivating force. Magic is not inherently naturalistic for me, even though I borrow the aesthetic. I don’t necessarily seek that kind of divine wonderment, but my attraction is adjacent.

My desires with magic are incredibly reflective of my desires with hypnosis -- power. Blind desire for power, whether to have it or have it taken away from me. It sounds evil to write it out, but at its base level it’s much less about anything but a simple feeling. It feels good and heady and awe-filled, and while on some level that’s sexually driven, I think it might also come from another, deeper place.

I still get uncomfortable when magical rituals feel too sensual, and there is a similar discomfort when hypnosis scenes feel too spiritual, but the latter is easier than the former. Generally, I still don’t know “what” to do when I do magic -- I only know “how” to do it. And not to mention “why” I would do magic if I don’t believe in it.

There’s a lot left that I haven’t reconciled. I suppose from a very broad lens, trying to codify the connections I feel between these two concepts is an attempt to make it easier to think about from a variety of different perspectives. I think about how I got over the phase of calling myself “boring” with hypnosis for only seeking feelings, not concepts, and think maybe that will help me with magic. I think about how I became more comfortable over time with my motivations to do hypnosis -- then less comfortable, then more comfortable. A key of my self-growth has always been recognizing and accepting my cyclical nature. (Wicca might say something about moon phases or a myriad of other natural cycles here; hypnosis and NLP might say something about patterns.)

To some degree, these kinds of explorations are valuable because they force us to limit our frames of reference as well. I barely touched upon connected ideas like religion or kink as a whole, how teaching and writing play in, my skill with self-hypnosis (surprisingly low) or connection to mesmerism/magnetism, and so much more. But it’s approaching nebulous concepts like this in a variety of different ways where we find answers, because often we don’t really even know what questions we should be asking.

I hope you enjoyed this piece! There was of course a lot I wanted to say and I’m very interested if this sparks any ideas or conversations -- when I first talked about this on Twitter, I was happily surprised how many folks had some similar thoughts or experiences and wanted to relate.

If you liked this writing and want to see more, you can find similar pieces available on Patreon or Gumroad; I write 6-8k words per month, sometimes academic and sometimes more exploratory like this. Please check it out! You can also get this writing as a downloadable PDF and tip through Gumroad, if you feel so inclined.

Thanks as always for your support, no matter what form that takes, be it monetary or simply reading through what I have to say.

- sleepingirl

#my writing #hypnosis #hypnokink

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atomicstrawbrys · 4 years

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Dead On Arrival

WOW i haven’t written in forever lmao, hopefully I still remember how!! I hope you enjoy the fic!! Please let me know if you did!!

Summary: Arthur and Alfred have a date. However, as Alfred finds himself unable to attend due to a rather...serious condition, it is up to Arthur to make sure they get to their dinner reservation on time. USUK.

Warnings: gross imagery, character death, violence

Words: 2583

Honestly, of all the times for Alfred to die, it had to be a few weeks before their big dinner date.

Arthur had made the reservation months in advance, as The Boathouse was always packed full of the rich and influential, and, hell, he’d just wanted to have one really nice date. Sure, he adored Alfred, and loved being with him no matter where they were, but he’d been looking forward to getting all fancy and renting a nice car for the night, to coming home late and getting pounded into the mattress before they would wake up and resume their normal lives.

And then Alfred got himself killed. A mugging gone wrong; they’d said. Alfred wasn’t even the intended victim, but he’d noticed the crime unfolding and had stepped in. The initial target had run away, but Alfred had not been so lucky. And oh, how his family wept. As did Arthur. He couldn’t even be considered a widower, as he had asked Alfred to prolong their engagement, putting off the wedding until they were secure enough to afford a decent house. How silly that seemed now- if he could go back, he’d have gone with Alfred to the courthouse the very day his fiancé had proposed.

And now, instead of planning a wedding, Arthur had planned a funeral. Closed casket, at his insistence. He didn’t want to see Alfred, a man who represented the very definition of life, reduced to a cold meat sack. They’d lowered his love into the ground, and, rather than a goodbye, Arthur departed with a ‘See you later, Darling.’ And, if he had anything to say about it, he would.

On the day of their date, Arthur rolled up to the cemetery in the rose gold Ferrari they’d reserved for the occasion. He stepped out in his crushed velvet suit, checking his watch. He had a little less than an hour before they had to be at The Boathouse. If they were even a minute late, they’d lose their reservation, so he did hope this would be quick.

Opening the passenger side door, Arthur retrieved a weathered tome from on top of the seat. He’d had this particular book of magicks for a while now, though before Alfred’s death, he’d never intended on getting involved in necromancy. Well. Maybe only a little, but still. The tome itself felt odd in his hands- it was bound with some type of animal skin, but not like anything he’d ever felt. He had plenty of old books, but this didn’t feel like any of the others...it also had this weird, fleshy color that wasn’t too far off from his own, and- Nope. Nope, that train of thought had gone far enough. Whatever the book was made out of, he didn’t make it, so it wasn’t his problem. He flipped through the pages of the tome as he walked through the graveyard, stepping over and around the headstones of those he was much less attached to.

When he arrived at Alfred’s grave -a nice little spot underneath the shade of a tree- Arthur took a moment to read the inscription on his headstone.

“Here lies Alfred Jones. Beloved Fiancé and Friend. Loved by all who knew him.” Beneath that were the dates that marked his birth and death, a short twenty-five years that seemed much too short for a man who loved life so much.

Before Arthur could contemplate on the tragedy further, he shook himself out of his thoughts and held up the ancient book. He read the page-long incantation labelled only ‘Reanimation.’ Once he’d read it through a few times, he set the book down in the grass, leaving his hands free.

As he chanted, Arthur took out his pocketknife, bringing it up to his hand. The blood of the living to awaken the body of the dead, that was the exchange. Of course, he wasn’t stupid enough to slice his palm, despite what was often shown in movies. Instead, he nicked the side of his wrist, letting crimson droplets sprinkle the freshly tilled earth of Alfred’s grave. With a final flourish, he wiped his wrist across Alfred’s headstone, the grey inscription now painted red. Then, he waited. Forty-five minutes until their reservation- Alfred had better be quick about this ‘coming back to life’ business.

For a moment, nothing happened. Arthur had been beginning to lose hope, beginning to wonder if the Definitely-Not-Human-Skin tome had been little more than a cheap Halloween decoration. But then, the earth beneath him shifted. There was something shifting around down there, or, rather, someone.

A hand burst through the dirt, clawing desperately towards the sky. Arthur, recognizing the engagement ring on Alfred’s finger, lunged forward and grasped his palm in both his hands. He pulled as hard as he could, the hand eventually giving way to an arm, and then a shoulder, and finally, to the rest of Alfred.

At first, Arthur could just stare. Alfred’s body, once decomposing, slowly began to knit itself back together until he looked, well, sort of normal. Alfred just stared back at him, light blue slowly pouring back into his milky white eyes. They weren’t as clear or brilliant as before, sure, but Arthur didn’t mind in the slightest. Alfred always looked perfect, even as maggots wriggled in the flesh of his crudely reconstructed body.

“Baaaaaaaaabe?” He rumbled, his voice garbled and slurred. Arthur could only laugh then, pulling his fiancé into a hug.

“Oh, Alfred, it’s so good to see you! Ha, don’t you bite me, now, I’ll not be responsible for some zombie apocalypse.”

“Ha. Ha.” Alfred’s raspy voice replied, jerking an arm up to Arthur’s back to give him a squeeze. “Missed...you. Sorry…”

“Hush, Alfred, you’ve nothing to be sorry for.” Arthur blinked quickly, shaking his head. He’d known the moment Alfred died that he would be bringing him back, but still, having the weeks without him...Arthur never wanted to do that again. And now that Alfred was back... it was a good feeling. “We do have a dinner reservation in like half an hour, though, so we’d better get going. It’s a good thing you’re already in your best suit.” He leaned back, pressing a kiss to Alfred’s cheek. Alfred’s lips twitched into something that resembled a smile.

As they pulled up to The Boathouse, Arthur slipped out of the passenger side. Alfred’s parking job was crooked as all hell, but it still wasn’t the worst he’d ever done. Perhaps it had been a mistake to put Alfred behind the wheel, but Arthur didn’t really like to drive, and besides, Alfred had geeked out once he saw the rented vehicle. He’d run up to the driver’s side as quickly as he could manage, which, to be fair, wasn’t very fast for the time being. Rigor mortis was not being kind to Alfred for the moment, and all his movements were jerky and stiff. It might ease up over the course of the night, but, even if it didn’t, Arthur found the way he moved to be absolutely fascinating.

Walking up to the restaurant with Alfred, Arthur held on to his fiancé’s hand, giving him a smirk. “I think I shall drive on the way back, Love. As much as I’d prefer not to, I’m a little worried that if I let you, I shall have to reanimate someone else before the night is out.”

“Boooo.” Alfred groaned in response. Arthur’s smile only widened.

The hostess of the restaurant seemed rather uneasy as she sat the two of them down at their table. Why, Arthur couldn’t begin to fathom. Even their waiter made little more than fleeting eye contact with them, practically throwing their menus to avoid stepping close to the table. Arthur just gave him a polite nod, opening it up and looking over the options.

“Well, I think I shall be getting the Lobster Thermidor. And you, Darling?”

Alfred grinned then, a little more easily. He waggled his eyebrows.

“Braaaaaaaaaaaaains.” He snickered, and Arthur couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“Oh, aren’t you funny. I already told you, no one is starting an apocalypse tonight. We can talk about it in the morning.” Arthur’s lips twitched up into a grin.

Alfred smiled, and, rather than giving the wheezing chuckle Arthur expected, he started to laugh. Sure, it was deep and bone-chilling and almost definitely not of this world, but it was still Alfred’s laugh, and Arthur’s heart melted at the sound of it. Then, Alfred looked back at his menu.

“Seared scallop pasta...looks good.”

Arthur nodded, and, once the waiter returned, relayed their order back to him. The waiter, again, would not get anywhere near their table, but that was no matter. Even if Arthur did have to speak up a bit for the other man to hear him, as long as the order was taken, it was alright.

As they waited, Arthur looked at his fiancé, fiddling with his own engagement ring that Alfred had spent way too much on. Alfred’s gaze wandered now, cloudy blue eyes taking in the restaurant and its patrons. He was still Alfred; Arthur was sure of it. Sure, he was pallid, and his body was...misshapen in some places. Sure, there was a weird wet ooze that soaked the front of his suit. Sure, he walked like a doll without articulated joints, and sure, his voice sounded as if there was dirt in his lungs. And, sure, his chest did not have the rise and fall of breath, indicating that perhaps Alfred no longer needed to breathe at all. But he was his fiancé, and, had they gotten married, Arthur would have pledged to love him until death parted them. Hell, Arthur loved him so much that death had failed to part them.

Alfred’s eyes refocused on him, and he smiled. “ Arthur…” He clumsily jerked his hand across the table, taking Arthur’s warm palm into his cold one. “Love...ya.”

Arthur felt a warm, soft smile spread across his lips as he looked down at their hands. It had only been a few weeks since he’d lost Alfred in the first place, but he’d gone far too long without hearing his partner say that he loved him. He blinked back misty eyes and nodded.

“I love you too, Alfred. So very much.”

When their meals arrived, the waiter’s hands subtly trembled as he set their plates down. Arthur pretended not to notice. He also pretended not to notice the way Alfred tore into his food- like he was a barely contained animal with a crazed hunger that flashed in his eyes only momentarily. Still, when Alfred looked at him, his eyes contained only warmth and adoration, so Arthur decided he wouldn’t worry about it too much.

After dinner, Arthur paid their bill, and helped Alfred to his feet. They left the restaurant, Arthur hugging his fiancé’s arm and nuzzling against his shoulder. He was sure the staff was glad to have them out of the building, and, to be honest, Arthur was glad for the fresh air. Alfred didn’t exactly smell the best anymore, but it was nothing a bath and some cologne couldn’t have helped.

“Tonight was really nice, Al.” Arthur hummed, looking up at him. “I’m really glad we got to go out again. It’s...” His voice thickened. “It’s been really hard without you, you know.”

Alfred slid his arm up Arthur’s back with more grace than he’d possessed the entire night, and gently squeezed Arthur to his side. He pressed a clammy kiss to Arthur’s temple, his eyes sad and apologetic.

“I didn’t...wanna leave you.” He murmured, and Arthur nodded, rubbing his eyes with a closed fist.

“I know, Alfred. I know. And I don’t...blame you, for what happened. You tried to do what was right, and you probably saved a life in the process. I only wish you’d come out unscathed.”

They reached the car, and Arthur opened the passenger side for Alfred before he climbed behind the wheel. He smiled at him, and, as they drove, he held his hand across the console. They rode in silence- not uncomfortable, but not quite comfortable either. Arthur wondered where Alfred had gone after he died- if he’d gone anywhere at all. But although he knew Alfred could answer him, he didn’t ask. He wasn’t meant to know what happened to a human soul after death, and he was alright with leaving it a mystery. As long as Alfred was alright, that was all the information he needed to know.

As they pulled back up to the cemetery, Alfred sat up, looking confused.

“Here?” He looked at Arthur, tilting his head. “What about...home?”

Arthur parked the car and turned off the headlights. “I know, my Love. I wish you could come back with me, too. But...you can’t, we both know it. What is your family going to think if your grave is empty tomorrow? And besides- I’m a little worried about the effects of keeping you out here for too long.”

Alfred’s lips drew into a pout. “Wouldn’t bite anyone...” He crossed his arms, looking down at his lap.

“I’m sure you wouldn’t. All the same, I think this is for the best.” Arthur got out of the car and went around to open the trunk. He pulled out a shovel and motioned for Alfred to follow. Reluctantly, Alfred obeyed, getting out and shuffling up the hill to the place he’d been buried.

“Right, then. In you go- according to the book I read, once you’re back in there, you’ll...you’ll fall asleep, and...you know. You’ll go back to wherever you were before I woke you.

Alfred looked down at the dark, damp hole, and shot his best puppy eyes at Arthur. Arthur crossed his arms and acted like he wasn’t affected, but they both knew it wasn’t true.

“Goodbye, Al. I’ll miss you.” He gave him a little smile, but his lip wobbled.

“I don’t wanna go.”

“I know.”

Alfred sat down at the edge of his grave, legs dangling as he stared down into it. He sighed, shoulders slumping as he started to ease himself back in.

“Ah, fuck,” Arthur murmured, shaking his head. “I’ll wake you up again next week, okay? We’ll stay in- we’ll order pizza and watch a movie. As long as you promise we’ll have you back in here before sunrise.”

With a surprising fluidity, Alfred shot up out of his grave and crushed Arthur to his chest in a hug.

“Okay! I love you!”

Chuckling, Arthur hugged him back, pressing a soft kiss to cold lips. “And I love you. Now, get back in there before I change my mind.”

Nodding, Alfred wasted no time in hopping down and lying in the splintered remains of his casket. He smiled up at Arthur and waved before he closed his eyes and drifted off into a deep sleep.

It took almost an hour, but, shovelful by shovelful, Arthur filled Alfred’s grave back in. He finished it up with a resounding pat-pat, then “borrowed” a rose from a nearby tomb and placed it down at Alfred’s headstone. He pressed a kiss to his dirt-crusted fingertips, then pressed his fingertips to the cool stone.

“See you next week, my Love. Sleep well.”

And with that, Arthur hefted the shovel up onto his shoulder and headed down the hill, already thinking about what movies they’d watch on their next date.

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human-hetalia-imagines · 4 years

Text

☆ Rules & Information ☆

This is a blog dedicated to doing imagines surrounding my original human au. Here’s a description for each character's place in the au and rules for requests — I’ll be adding more characters as I get more comfortable writing for them.

*I did change the names of some characters so that they would reflect the countries they come from

*Also: this shit long, so strap in and get ready

☆Rules for Imagines☆

I’ll do imagines, or a bullet point list of up to 6 characters at one time, or a written scenario for up to 3 characters

I’ll also do nyos and genderbends of each character (ngl, I simp after nyo!America), their placement in the au won't change.

I include South Italy and Prussia in the axis, and Canada in the Allies

I’ll write fluff, smut, angst, and everything in between

I absolutely won’t write: incest, explicit sexual assault or excessive gore

The only time I will do romantic/sexual imagines for the characters who canonically have the physical appearance of people under 18 is if you explicitly state that you want them aged up, or if the reader is also underage. If you request adult x minor, I will discard your ask & invert your rib cage.

☆Rules for Matchups☆

Before submitting, check if they’re open or not, they won’t always be due to not wanting my page cluttered with them

When requesting, include personality, interests, dislikes, any pets you have, fun facts about yourself, and possibly clothing style

Don’t bother to include physical features as those will not be taken into account when pairing you up with someone

Include whether you want the matchup to be romantic, platonic, or one of each

☆Character Au Placements☆

North America

America | Alfred Jones, age 19

A young man that's cheerful and strong, with a strong sense of justice. He often can't read situations and has a habit of ruining the mood, whatever mood that may be. While he’s usually labeled as “incompetent”, he’s attending college (or university, depending where you’re from) to obtain a bachelor's degree in aerospace engineering. He plays as the pitcher on his college’s baseball team, able to throw a devastating fastball. He lives in a two bedroom apartment with his twin brother, Matthew. He had a crush on Amelia Earhart when he was younger, and it’s something that Matthew teases him about on a weekly basis.

Canada | Matthew Williams, age 19

On the surface, he's an easygoing, softhearted and gentle young man, around his twin brother and close friends, however, he can be quite sassy, nearly bordering on rude on occasion. He's in his first year of college for a degree in statistics. For the college, he plays as the Center on the hockey team, where he lets out steam on his opponents. He has a pure white rag-doll cat named Kumajirou that follows him around his and Alfred's apartment. He curses regularly in french.

United Kingdom

England | Arthur Kirkland, age 23

He's either a quick-witted, sarcastic and stubborn man, or the paragon of a perfect gentleman. He enjoys reading, writing (although he doesn’t show anyone his stories), and embroidering. He’s gotten so skillful at it, that he has a well-traversed Etsy shop. He’s currently in his last year of getting his Postsecondary Education degree and a minor in linguistics. When he was a teenager, he was a delinquent, going to loud concerts, fighting, dyeing his hair wild colors, and smoking. While he says he’s over it, he still keeps various CDs of OK Go and The Rolling Stones, as well as band t-shirts. It’s something that his 3 older brothers refuse to let go of.

Baltic

Estonia | Eduard von Bock, Age 19

He's a graduated honors student who has avoided many problems with wit. Usually in front of people he acts calm, logical, and businessman-like, but in private he’s actually pretty chill, albeit a bit quiet. He’s awesome with technology, and works part-time at his college as an IT advisor while he studies to get his Quality Control & Safety Technologies degree.

Latvia | Raivis Galante, age 15

He’s a boy who has been through quite a bit, making him an introvert, easily intimidated, and kind of a crybaby. He’s in his first year of high school, but due to him having an anxiety disorder, he does it digitally. The only problem is that he strives to have friends who are close to him and care for him unconditionally. He secretly likes to read cutesy romance novels from the young adult section.

Lithuania | Toris Laurinaitis, age 19

He's a patient, shy, and gentle person who has the ability to become pretty serious when he needs to be. He works as a librarian assistant while he decides between a degree in social work or education. He, unfortunately, usually over-thinks his decisions too much, causing him to have anxiety attacks. When he’s not working, he’s typically just dragged around by his close friend, Feliks, but he has a good time nonetheless.

Nordic

Denmark | Mathias Køhler, age, 19

He’s a genuine sweetheart who often accidentally always yells. While he is kind, he’s also a bit thick-headed, although he always has the best of intentions. He considers himself to be very close to his friends, especially to Lukas, although the other man’s opinion on the matter is about the opposite. He attends college for a master’s degree in, surprisingly enough, Business Administration. When he isn’t studying, he enjoys clinging to his friends and drinking. He has the habit of playing online video games with Alfred and Gilbert for way too long at a given time. He also gets oddly competitive over his degree with Tino.

Finland | Tino Väinämöinen, Aged 20

He's a gentle, cheery young man with a tendency to like the more simplistic things in life. He seems very mature, yet can be childlike. He loves relaxing in saunas, especially with his close friends. He has a small Maltese pup named Hanatamago who attends dog shows. When he’s not attending dog shows, he does online college for a masters in Medical Assisting.

Iceland | Emil Steilsson, age 17

He’s a mysterious boy with a cool exterior and a hot interior, being a bit easy to provoke with teasing. His older half-brother often insists that he was ‘born in his emo phase’. He taught his pet puffin (geniously named Mr. Puffin) a lot of profanity in Icelandic, Norwegian, and English. He attends high school, which he is absolutely over. On a side note, even though Lukas is his half-brother, he often refuses to have any connection to him whatsoever in public.

Norway | Lukas Bondevik , age 18

He is, like his half-brother, very introverted. However, he is considerably more cold to strangers, but to his close friends, he can (sometimes) be very sweet. He just recently finished highschool, but intends on going straight into college for an Applied Data Science degree. He practices Modern Paganism, or Wicca, as his religion.

Sweden | Berwald Oxenstierna, Aged 21

He’s a guy with an intimidating air who doesn’t talk much. On the inside he’s playful, but it doesn’t show at all and he just seems intimidating. He works as a carpenter after he went to a trade high school, a job that he greatly enjoys. Other than that, he likes decorative arts and being a part of debates on his free time. While he can create furniture out of wood scraps without any blueprints, he can’t put together IKEA furniture to save his life.

Eastern Europe

Belarus | Natalia Arlovskaya, age 19

While she can be extremely possessive over her older brother and sister, she means well. She openly looks up to both of them, as they are the only two people in her life that have remained constants. She lives with both of them in a house and works part-time at her sister’s flower shop. She’s also a part-time online student with a pursuit of a criminology degree.

Russia | Ivan Braginski, age 21

He has the simplicity of a country bumpkin, an easy-going personality, and the cruelty of a child, all mixed together. Coupled with his personality traits and the fact that he’s well over 6 feet tall, he constantly (and accidentally) gives off an intimidating air. He attends college for a Avionics Technology bachelor's degree. Deep down, he’s incredibly passionate about ballet, more specifically Russian ballet, his favorite being Don Quixote, with Sleeping Beauty as a close second.

Ukraine | Katyusha Braginskaya, age 24

Ivan and Natalia’s older sister who always recklessly gets dragged into their messes. She's an absolute sweetheart who strives to make the people around her happy, even at her own expense. She can be very emotional. She owns a flower shop where she let’s her younger siblings work part-time while they go to school.

Central Europe

Germany | Ludwig Beilschmidt, age 20

He's a young man with an overly serious personality and a pessimistic nature. He's very by-the-book and has a pet peeve for a lack of cleanliness. He attends college for mechanical engineering and dorms with Feliciano and Kiku. His older brother, Gilbert, regularly breaks in and hangs out with them. His hobbies are reading, making sweets and taking walks with his dogs (that live with Gilbert). He’s in a garage band with the three aforementioned guys. He does, however, want to be a soldier like the other members in his family. Unfortunately, due to an injury to his leg that he sustained as a kid, he can’t.

Hungary | Elizabeta Héderváry, age 26

She’s a sweet, reliable woman with a bit of a boyish streak. For a career, she works doing maintenance on a farm that belongs to a close friend, Basch (Switzerland). In her free time, she likes riding horses, going hiking and practicing instruments, one of which is the tekerőlant. She has a young child, Julian (Kugelmugel), from a previous relationship with her ex fiance, Roderich (Austria). Thankfully, things are civil between the two.

Liechtenstein | Lili Zwingli, age 15

She’s the darling, adoptive younger sister of Basch (Switzerland). She has a big heart and helps out on her brother’s farm wherever she can, and because she spends so much time on the farm, she’s gotten decently close to Elizabeta. She enjoys feeding, brushing, and cuddling her two angora rabbits on her free time, as well as knitting. Sometimes she’ll submit her bunnies to be participants in rabbit shows (Cocoa has 1 and Cinna-bun has 3).

Poland | Feliks Łukasiewicz, age 19

He has a fierce anxiety towards strangers, and upon a first meeting, he'll act very shy. Once he gets used to someone, he'll act goofy and a bit childish, clinging onto his closest friends. He attends college for a degree in fashion design and marketing. He is also very opinionated. He often drags his friends to Francis’ patisserie for cute aesthetic pictures.

Prussia | Gilbert Beilschmidt, age 24

He comes off as rude, loud and self-centered, but he’s actually incredibly sweet and loyal almost to a fault. He’s catholic and takes his religion seriously to the point of keeping a cross necklace with him nearly all the time. While he wanted to join the army like the rest of his family, his albinism keeps him from being able to. Because of this, many members of the family see him as the Family Disappointment™, causing a strain between him and them. Unrelated, but when Ludwig lived with him, he caught Gilbert trying to play all three parts of Suite en trio, Op. 59: I. Serenade by himself with all three instruments at 2 in the morning.

Switzerland | Basch Zwingli, age 25

He’s an intimidating man with a soft heart. He owns a farm that has been in his family for generations, and it’s a job that he’s greatly proud of and fiercely protective over. He has technically adopted Lili as a daughter, but they both view each other as siblings. Regardless, Francis has still referred to him as a DILF before. He doesn’t understand what it means, and Elizabeta has assured him that he doesn't want to. On a more pure note, he enjoys attending rabbit shows whenever there’s any in the area, and has encouraged Lili to participate in them with hers.

Africa

Seychelles | Veronique Bonnefoy, age 17

She’s a southern country girl with a big heart. She's a bit sloppy and has the tendency to laze around when the weather gets warmer. She often laments over her being lonely to her friends, especially to Alfred and Matthew. She enjoys cooking, singing, and dancing. She takes after her brother figure (technically adoptive father), Francis, being a bit of a romantic herself. She’s in her senior year of high school, and is excited to be done with it. Once she ate pizza rolls in front of Francis and he almost cried.

Asia

China | Yao Wang, age 19

He’s a (mostly) easy-going person, if not a bit of a hermit. He works as a waiter currently, but attends several courses in hopes of getting his food-handlers permit to, one day, open his own authentic Chinese food restaurant. He lives with his 5 other siblings, all of which jokingly refer to him as “grandpa” due to how often he complains about back pain and makes acupuncture appointments every 2 weeks. When his 6th sibling, Kiku, moved out for college, he was pretty salty. In his free time, he mostly plays Mahjong the practices the Érhù. He’s unabashedly likes and collects cute things such as small charms and plushies.

Japan | Kiku Honda, age 19

While, at first glance, he seems quiet and serious, he can actually be quite goofy and irresponsible with his money, buying anime memorabilia and American comic books. It’s something that one of his roommates, Ludwig, lectures him about quite a bit. His other roommate, Feliciano, sees nothing wrong with it. He attends college for a degree in animation. He enjoys messing with machines and drawing.

South Korea | Im Yong Soo, age 16

He’s a hyperactive young man with strong aspirations when it comes to schooling. He shows the upmost respect to strangers and his elders alike, but when he’s around friends and immediate family he tends to be more loud and silly. He’s currently knee deep in the K-pop wave sweeping the world and practices idol dances on tiktok.

Taiwan | Mei Xiao, age 18

She is a strong-willed, fashionable young woman, but she's also said to have become more of a nervous type in recent times, unable to stop worrying. She has the tendency to be a bit smart-mouthed with a somewhat quick temper. Other than that, she has a sweet and cheerful disposition. She lives with all of her siblings (China, Japan, Vietnam, Hong Kong, Korea, and Thailand) and works as a hostess as a restaurant while she takes a break from schooling.

Mediterranean

France | Francis Bonnefoy, age 24

He's someone who does things at his own pace and has an abundance of affectionate expressions for friends, family, and strangers alike. He owns his own patisserie which has become increasingly popular as a spot for dates and hipsters to eat cute, artfully made sweets and drink aesthetically pleasing coffees and teas. He loves culture and the arts, as well as paintings and clothing.

North Italy | Feliciano Vargas, age 20

He's a cheerful guy who can be a little bit of a crybaby. While he relies on his friends a lot, he deeply cares for them. He's attending college for a fine arts degree where he shares a dorm room with Ludwig and Kiku. He enjoys painting, singing and designing clothes. Also, while only a few people know this, he can play both acoustic and electric guitar. He’s in a garage band with Ludwig, Kiku, and Gilbert

South Italy | Lovino Vargas, age 22

He constantly starts arguments and fights, however he’s also a bit of a coward. He has the ability to be hardworking, but often doesn’t out of laziness. While he’ll never admit it, he’s quite the hopeless romantic, striving to find someone who will love him despite his flaws. He’s in college to obtain a bachelor's in agricultural studies with a minor in history, but absolutely refused to share a dorm with his younger brother, who he often teases about choosing to get a ‘useless art degree.’ He enjoys gardening, dancing, and playing the acoustic guitar in his free time. He also likes sketching, but due to feeling insecure, he never shows people his work, or even tells them that he does it.

Spain | Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, age 24

While he can be oblivious and even insensitive, he’s a generally friendly person with a cheerful deposition. He works as a bartender in a decently popular bar in the downtown of his city that’s within walking distance of his house. When he’s not working, he enjoys playing the flamenco guitar and practicing dancing. Since he’s very sociable, before work, he typically stops by Francis’ pastry shop to talk to him as he closes up.

Also, did you know that, in canon, Feliciano can play electric guitar and Ludwig can play the drums?? What I’m saying is: punk garage band w/ Kiku on vocals. Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk.

#hetalia imagines #aph imagines #aph america #aph canada #aph china #aph england #aph france #aph russia #aph germany #aph japan #aph italy #aph romano #aph nordics #aph baltics #aph taiwan #human au #rules

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krolock-in-the-snowlock · 4 years

Text

My Full Commentary on Broadway’s Dance of the Vampires

Turns out there’s so much that this is going to have to be split into two posts! These are my full, unedited, out-of-context ramblings as I watched the production, so prepare for it to be all over the place and chaotic! I also did a slightly shorter review of sorts here!

But here we go... Act 1!

• Huh. This is not Alfred in the snow

• Why are there three children in the forest

• This song is boring. To be fair their voices are nice but I’m still bored. This feels like Disney ugh

• God these jokes are awful and I can’t tell if they’re funny or not

• Whyyyyy is there a jokes every 5 seconds and WHAT ARE THEY DOING IN THE FOREST

• Oh my god why are they getting high on mushrooms

• wAIT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE SARAH HOLY SHIT

• WHY IS SHE WITH PEOPLE ARE THEY HER SIBLINGS

• WHY IS SHE OUTSIDE

• I feel like they’re foreshadowing Krolock’s arrival

• I want to get this over with already and see Krolock but I don’t want to see Crawford butcher his poor character

• What is going on why are they dancing, is this Carpe Noctem already

• Why are they just carrying them around

• The lights are nice but that’s about as far as I can compliment this

• The dancers (I’m guessing vampires even though I swear I heard a wolf howl) look like they just got off of Cats and either think they’re still in Cats but just wandered onto the wrong stage or just never recovered from being cats for so long and can tragically no longer move like normal humans (or vampires, whatever)

• The rock music is pretty cool I’ll give them that

• But I still don’t see where they’re going with this

• OH SHIT

• WHY DID A COFFIN LITERALLY RISE OUT OF THE GROUND

• IT’S GONNA BE KROLOCK ISN’T IT

• WHYYY

• God has left the building what the fuc-

• It sounds like he’s about to start a really sad rave

• Is that Krolock’s voice oh god please no

• Also THEY ARE NOT IN A BUILDING THEY ARE IN A FOREST

• I get that Krolock breaks the fourth wall in Die Unstillbare Gier but that is no excuse for this aAaAa

• I’m both scared and morbidly excited to unpause the video

• This feels on the same level of what kind of acid trip hallucination parallel universe have I landed in as seeing the Cats film in the cinema in that I’m both scaredly laughing and like fuck it what have I got to lose I’m here for the ride no matter what the next two hours may throw at me

• Oh god here I go

• Why are they applauding this is horrifying

• Is that a bloody top hat jesus christ

• Also I’m sorry but what kind of coffin is that big

• NO

• NONONONO

• I CAN’T THIS IS HORRIBLE

• COUNT GIOVANNI

• WHAT IS THAT VOICE

• Sarah sounded like Giofuckingvanni impersonating Sarah

• Did he just say you are a person

• And how old are you??? Where is the mystery?? Why does he sound like an old grandpa talking to the girl behind the checkout at the supermarket

• Ok I went back to check and no he said you are perfect and tbh that’s not much better she isn’t a product Giovanni

• Like yeah Krolock would probably be thinking that but he would never say it so plainly

• 18 in three days oh my god is her birthday on halloween

• Why does she talk like a 6 year old

• Oh no I’m sorry not just halloween but the total eclipse of the moon

• Gotta get the phrase total eclipse in there early

• At midnight huh sarah??? You were born at midnight???? And you care about that at 18-in-3-days??

• Issa too good excUSE ME?

• He sounds like a looney tunes character

• Is he talking to the audience

• Is this actually deadpool in disguise with all the fourth wall breaking because please that would be so much better than this trainwreck

• And Deadpool would never do this to poor TdV

• And your name, no don’t tell me… Sarah he’s not a cheap magician ugh (or tbh maybe Giovanni is)

• And now the einladung zum ball/tanzsaal music is playing… what is going to happen here

• I was gonna say finally something familiar but nope these lyrics are so wrong

• I know they can’t be exactly the same but they could have at least kept the meaning similar

• Like, what the hell is an original sin

• I was gonna roast the lyrics some more but I’m gonna be honest I’m not sure what he’s saying

• Endless researching? Ambronsius who? Awful word choice and I’m hating the repeated original sin thing he’s got going on

• Sei bereit????? So they’re keeping the German there???? Why??? Be prepared is the same number of syllables???

• Also what are they doing?? Merging einladung zum ball with gott ist tot or totale finsternis or what??

• Oh they said turn around… so not the literal translation, just the Bonnie Tyler lyrics, huh? That doesn’t even make sense. He’s in front of her already

• I’m sorry, since she’s been born??

• I’m mad that his voice is good because he could have performed in a faithful adaption and been a great Krolock but no he had to ruin everything and now we won’t get a good english version thanks michael

• It’s time to feed? Really?

• Oh so we are doing totale finsternis already

• We’re barely 11 minutes in and they’ve already used up two of the best songs in the musical?

• Also if Sarah and Krolock meet so early on, what’s gonna take up the first act? What’s gonna take the place of totale finsternis at act 2?

• The use of total eclipse of the heart definitely feels like an intentional joke here rather than just jim recycling his old stuff, and honestly it kind of works like that (though that’s only because this whole thing so far seems like one big parody)

• But if they don’t do the harmonies I’m gonna be so mad

• Or maybe I should just consider it a blessing tbh

• Nobody could ever beat drew and diana

• You’re so cool just because that’s what I think when I see Krolock that doesn’t mean that fits Sarah’s personality or what Krolock is supposed to be achieving (also Giovanni is most certainly Not Cool)

• Where I’ve paused it at 12:12 it looks like a meme. Crawford looks like he regrets everything and can I just say michael so does everybody else

• He looks like a potato or a rock or that neutral nicolas cage face that people put on the sequin cushion

• I hate that I kind of laughed at ‘and does he love me?’ ‘…Sarah.’

• She looks like a barbie doll

• Is he biting her already??

• Oh was he licking her neck?

• Why… don’t you celebrate… your birthday… at my castle? Oh my god

• This sounds like a poorly written krolock/reader wattpad fanfic

• Which is actually quite accurate

• He will return with the tails??

• He can’t gift her the sponge if the significance of the sponge hasn’t already been establisheddd

• It feel like lol aren’t i so random rawr xd

• Though giovanni would highkey be like that on myspace

• Also just saying, the sponge krolock gives to her in tdv is much more impressive than that normal sized sponge, up ur game giovanni

• And that’s just it????? He says ciao bella like a creepy mario then sinks into the ground again???

• How dare they use those nice choral harmonies for that scene

• Ah, 14:17 and I should go to bed but I sure don’t look forward to the garlic that I hear coming up

Day 2: Garlic

• And we’re back for round 2!

• So far garlic seems to have a similar vibe to the original, probably because the original was pretty dumb

• Yeah pretty much the same as the original

• But if there’s no frozen alfred and professor yet, what’s even going on?

• And that’s over

• Oh so they’re just gonna arrive like that, no drama or anything?

• Ew why does alfred sound like that? He might as well be gaston

• Oh so they’re mentioning Krolock by name??? When they’re supposed to be pretending he doesn’t exist?

• Oh so that was a mistake by an idiot, I see. Was this in the original?

• The whole smelling like feet thing is kind of funny, I hate to admit it. It’s just a shame it doesn’t fit Alfred’s character

• All in all, ignoring the fact that alfred is all wrong and not frozen, this scene is going pretty well. The jokes are quite good

• Huh who is this supposed to be??

• Oh my gOD IT’S GIOVANNI

• AND HIS STUPID ISSA TOO GOOD

• I really hate that I kind of enjoyed that reveal on some level

• But why????

• Where is koukol

• That silk is not going to be enough for sarah’s ballgown, I hate to break it to you Giovanni

• All of these modern phrases like I leave the door open and put it on my tab just don’t fit

• At this point I’ve decided to stop trying to take Giovanni seriouslg. This is a parody in my eyes

• Ah we’re at logic round 1 huh?

• It’s a shame the only bits so far that they’ve kept fairly accurate are the parts I never liked as much

• Oh my god is giovanni visiting the house as a bat???

• I’m not entirely certain who this other guy is… chagal?

• Frickin idiots really giovanni?

• Oh so koukol doesn’t even exist???

• Is his name morris??

• This is weird

• Ah finally sarah is in the bath

• But it’s in her room???

• Did she call alfred tasty?? You’re not a vampire yet sarah

• They’re both way too outgoing and confident ugh it’s wrong

• Where’s all the cute awkward clumsiness and interactions?

• Ok so alfred’s diary stuff is funny but it’s not alfred. Like, he was probably thinking some of this stuff but he wouldn’t say it, especially not like that

• Well chagal is less sexist and abusive here which is nice but ultimately removes sarah’s motivations

• A blood transfusion??

• I don’t even know what to say, these jokes are kinda gross

• Orange and black crepe paper? A pumpkin?? The prophecy thing? This is just stupid

• The pumpkin probably would scare giovanni away though

Sarah and Alfred’s duet doesn’t work when they’re both in THE SAME ROOM

• This is boring ugh they just met but not even in the way they did originally

• Where’s krolock to invite her to the ball? Oh wait, they already met, and it’s giovanni

• Dammit I love the einladung zum ball scene

• Did they even check blood types?? Oh wait it’s 18whatever supposedly

• Ew they’re supposed to bond over sponges not journals

• Oh here’s chagal’s gross song. Marginally less gross in this context to be fair but still

• Ha no one will abuse you except for you huh chagal

• Oh bye I guess chagal

• NO THAT BAT IS AWFUL OH MY GOD

• WHY DID THEY DO THIS

• GIOVANNI NO

• WHAT IS HE SINGING

• This is horrible

• Where’s the drama, the impressive teleportation, the cape swishing, the mystery, the music?

• Issa me! He might have just as well gone and said Itsa me, Mario!

• This is a crime

• He genuinely thinks she’s a princess nOOOOOO

• Krolock would never

• But I guess giovanni is just Like That

• Krolock wouldn’t complain about the smell, he would pull a face but that would be it

• The joke about the mirrors..? Is giovanni really that stupid or is he self aware and is joking with the audience?

• And the way he just stands there facing the audience in silence as they laugh… he’s got to be self aware

• Also this whole thing is so stupid in its attempts to be funny that I bet we won’t even get die unstillbare gier because giovanni could never pull off anything so genuine or serious (nor could any of the others though)

• Oh god are they semi doing einladung zum ball with the never enough stuff? But it’s not even dramatic or powerful enough ughhh

• Nooooo they made it sound all sappy and romantic when it’s supposed to be dark and commanding and… I don’t even have the words to describe it but no this is awful

• Also the lyrics feel so much more shallow than the original… and the original was so full of what was probably too many syllables that this just feels empty and drawn out

• Oh I’ve got it! Giovanni is like trying to convince her kindly like, oh sarah, that would never be enough for you, darling whereas krolock is stating a powerful fact, he’s like that would never be enough. Krolock knows that she knows and is just kind of showing her that he understands her and she should join him.

• Also michael if you sing the long note at the end, it needs to be meaningful, powerful, entrancing, inviting, exciting, dark, strong. You can’t just do a weedy weak version with no power and no meaning or purpose to the scene

• Why is mars rising

• Oh is it supposed to be a blood moon I bet it is

• This is new…

• The lyrics are all hey sarah, you can do whatever cool stuff you want, the dark side is fun haha

• There’s no story, no appeal to her character development or deeper motivations

• The staging is boring. They’re just stood there. Like two pigeons aimlessly squawking at each other, only one pigeon has decided it won’t shut up

• Giovanni’s makeup and hair are all wrong too

• Dear god only 45 minutes in

• Oh so chagal is frozen and bitten at the very least

• Oh magda and mrs chagal are both singing

• The harmonies are nice, I’ll give them that

• Ah here he goes

• Ew why is he a dog

• Oh mrs krolock is back

• Ooh manipulative he lies

• Ew alfred no kissing without asking first

• And here’s draussen ist freiheit

• Oh but it’s not about freedom, it’s bravery instead

• Why has it got a a dance beat now

• Oh no giovanni’s voice is ruining everything again

• Every time I think the music is actually alright, giovanni’s weaselly voice ruins everything

• Ah finally the end of act 1, though lesss cool when not on a house

• At only 1 hour and 4 minutes, we’ve done it. Halfway through. This is where things should start getting good but of course that probably won’t happen.

• Wait we didn’t even get gott ist tot

• Oh no here it is

• Sounds like they’re keeping it the same

• Ok michael you’re not doing too badly

• *cough* But hey that’s probably because you’re sticking to the source material *cough*

• Ah ok now it’s the end of act 1 at 1 hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds.

• And what an hour, 6 minutes and 30 seconds they’ve been

• So, before we move on, a quick summary:

• The better parts are the parts where they actually stick to the source material

• Giovanni is the polar opposite of Krolock and therefore cannot even be called Krolock

• The jokes are awful but sometimes funny

• I’m dreading act 2

• Dear god we haven’t even seen herbert yet

• And if sarah is already at the castle, is totale finsternis even going to happen again?

• I guess we’ll find out whether we want to or not in…

Part 2!

#tanz der vampire #dance of the vampires #I am so sorry #this is such a mess

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diloph · 4 years

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Feels a little odd to hear talk about Robin and Annie, but I agree with what you said. And in fact, this reminds me of how annoyed I was that they just blew up Hagen(and by extension Annie) in Justice League. Yeah, you can argue how sympathetic he is, but I still think Clayface deserved a better send-off. The DCAU honestly did most of the rogues poorly by the time of New Batman Adventures.

Yeah, I won’t lie, I’m sort of biased towards liking BTAS more than The New Adventures even though I think the designs and animation in the latter (including the widely hated Joker redesign) were much smoother, so I’m definitely more interested in a sympathetic monster version of Matt Hagan than “well, guess I’m just a villain now” one that crops up in the Xmas episode. A glorified shoplifting scheme for petty cash? Yeah, that says “was once a man”. If he’s after money to cure his condition, let him hit up a bank or something. Or a chemical lab. No shortage of them in Gotham.

That’s kind of trait that keeps reoccuring within that part of the series. Batman goes from a man who puts up a stern front with those who deserve it, but will laugh and joke and generally be a human being with his friends to a stick-in-the-mud knowitall killjoy around even Alfred and Tim.

Other characters got it too, such as how Mr Freeze gave up on life or the doomed “romance” between Killer Croc and Baby Doll. It was getting a bit too bleak and things like the Ventriloquist finally freeing himself from Scarface once and for all were a bit less prominent.

It comes to a head with me with Annie and Clayface, where she seemingly got lumped (sorry) with all of his sympathy and was immediately murdered by the new, more villainous take on Hagan that gets away with it scott free. That could have been addressed and explored in greater detail in these new comics and it just... wasn’t. For no readily apparent reason, despite slapping her on the cover. No interesting story, nothing.

Much like a certain OTHER series that has an ongoing comic run, I’d expected the new issues to address the characters and scenarios we feel got short-changed with new and exciting stories, through a slightly more mature lens of the new medium. Whilst The Adventures Continue do handle that a little better, it’s still very shallow to what BTAS/The New Adventures’ contemporary comics put out at the same time as the show.

And, considering what happens to Tim at the end; broken by the Joker and unwittingly reduced to endangering hundreds of thousands of innocents thanks to the Clown Prince of Crime’s brainwashing, completely separate from the rest of the Bat family? Yeah, I’ve got an issue with that. I don’t expect a happy ending for everybody, but some characters are just kicked repeatedly when they’re down. Even that thing I pointed out where Annie’s picture seems to reappear on the Batcomputer in Beyond is an easily exploitable thing they could have used to beef up the lore of a main character, a villain and a side character.

Tim could have had one good thing left from his time as Robin. One thing. One person who he both helped and was helped by, knew as a close friend. Sure, Bruce and Barbara pop by in the hospital at the end of Return of the Joker, but in the end I don’t think that’s enough.

Tim Drake might not have the Flying Graysons to mourn, nor being twisted into the Red Hood to strike out against the man he once considered his ally and mentor, but in the DCAU, he’s got more than enough tragedy to match them both and it is never really addressed.

But at least he got to throw a freezy-Batarang at Clayface in those two panels, right? More than makes up for it, I don’t think.

#Batman #Batman the Animated Series #Batman: The Adventures Continue #Clayface #Robin #Tim Drake #Annie #yeah she gets a tag

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amygdalae · 5 years

Note

From my point of view, I don't really think that there are any "evil" characters in Bloodborne, even Mycolash who seems pretty wicked or Iosefka with the experiments. They're like...feral and abstracted, I mean, they search for a greater good without thinking about consequences. What do you think?

I just think Bloodborne (dark souls too, but bb especially) doesn’t follow the hero/villain dynamic in the same way other games do. Sure, the hunter is sort of a ‘chosen one’ but their role as a protagonist is to kill.

I think djura’s role in the game is to introduce moral ambiguity to hunting, in contrast to healing church concept of ‘cleansing the streets’ of foul beasts.

The end of Alfred’s questline has a similar effect. His demeanor is intentionally jarring in contrast to his earlier friendliness because, while the vilebloods also kill people, it becomes clear that the violent rhetoric spread by the healing church is no better.

it’s the simple, small acts of kindness (giving the doll a gift, trying to help a young girl find her mother, befriending the chapel dweller who clearly has been mistrusted in the past) that shine out amongst the unsettling moral ambiguity of bloodborne’s factions.

In the end, nurturing simple human kindness is more meaningful than committing objectively bad deeds for the greater good

#bloodborne #asks #this might not make any sense. im tired

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redhoodieone · 5 years

Text

BatFamBook

A/N: This is supposed to be a funny one-shot fic! I needed to get this idea out while I’m currently busy with my horror novel, and my series, “Don’t Tell Me.” Hope you enjoy it, if not…I don’t blame you. Y/S/N – Your superhero name.

Pairings: Jason Todd x Y/N, Bruce Wayne x Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson x Barbara Gordon.

Warnings: Language, some talks of sex, inappropriate discussions, and etc.

BatFamBook

It has been a secret project for over six months. Tim manages to put the finishing touches on a private website he created for the Bat Family, and even some of the Justice League members. If it succeeds, he’s positive that the rest of the Justice League, Teen Titans, and other heroic teams would use it.

Facebook is still a popular social media website, and while Tim longed to belong to a social media outlet as Red Robin, he was more than determined to create a private social media outlet for all heroes.

Tim Drake texts a link in a group text to everyone in the Bat Family: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Damian, and Y/N.

Tim: Clink this link now.

Damian: Do I even want to, Drake?

Jason: Is it a porn site?

Y/N: That’s gross Jason!

Jason: He’s done it before, so how’s this time any different?

Tim: It’s not a porn site!

Damian: I seriously doubt he’s learned from last time.

Dick: Seriously, why Tim?

Bruce: I swear to God Tim, if it’s porn or another video of newscasts comparing me and Clark, I’m going to remove all computers and coffee products in this goddamn house.

Tim: What??? No! This is the secret project I’ve been working on for six months! Just click on the link now!

Damian: You finally completed your female android for sexual pleasure, did you Drake? Well, I can say I admire you for finally confessing you’ll never be good enough for human females. Hopefully this project gives you another reason to stay alive instead of drowning in your computer work and coffee.

Tim: I swear…

The Bat family clicks on the link, and their cell phones connect to a website called, BatFamBook, a website eerily similar to Facebook. Each person sees their developed profiles, with a picture of each of them as their individual profile picture.

Tim is the first to post a status on his page.

Red Robin: Okay, so here’s my first post! I’ve been wanting to create a special, private social media website for the Bat Family, League, and any other heroic team who comes along. Isn’t this cool?

Robin comments quickly.

Robin: The female android would have been an improved creation than this. Are you that desperate for attention, Red Robin?

Red Hood shares the fast food, Red Robin, restaurant picture on Tim’s page.

Red Hood: I hope the restaurant gets a peek at this and sues your ass for taking their name.

Red Robin: Can you guys stop and enjoy what I’ve done? This is so cool! No one else has created this! I’m the sole creator! I’m the new Mark Zuckerberg!

Y/S/N: Don’t you think this is a little dangerous though? What if someone is able to hack in here and see our private information and stuff?

Red Robin: I highly doubt that, Y/S/N. I built this system with my bare hands. Only I can hack in and see what we’re doing.

Robin: And that is why we totally trust you…Not!

Nightwing posts a selfie in his costume. Holding up two fingers for the peace sign, he smiles at the camera. His charming, sexy self is all on display.

Nightwing: Ladies, ladies, ladies…there’s plenty of me to go around…

Red Hood: Too bad there’s only my girlfriend on here, Dickhead.

Y/S/N: Wow Dick…you’re just oozing with sex appeal on here!

Red Hood: BABE! BABY GIRL! DOLL! STOP LOOKING AT HIS PICTURE! I SWEAR I’M GONNA BLOW HIS BRAINS OUT IF YOU DON’T STOP!

Nightwing: I’m flattered, Y/S/N. But be careful, Batgirl might see your comment!

Robin: Or Starfire.

Robin: Or Dove.

Robin: Or Zatanna.

Red Hood: Man-whore, much?

Nightwing: Jealous?

Y/S/N: He better not be jealous!

Red Hood: I’m not! He’s jealous of us, doll!

Robin: Should I keep going, Nightwing?

Red Robin: Look who’s fucking annoying now?

Batman: Language, Red Robin!

Nightwing: Lmfao at you, Robin!

Robin: Perhaps I’ll kill you too, Grayson.

Red Robin: Great…I really enjoy you admitting to your future crimes, Robin.

Robin: If no one were to anger me, I wouldn’t be making all these deadly promises, Drake.

Red Hood: Y/S/N, just don’t leave me and go for that damn acrobat.

Y/S/N: You’re overreacting! It’s not my fault you’re all so handsome and cute in your own ways.

Red Hood: Do I need to remind you that you’re mine, Y/S/N?!

Y/S/N: I’m sorry, Hoodie!

Red Hood posts a selfie of himself in his costume but holds his helmet at his side and grins in the mirror. He’s sexy as fuck.

Y/S/N: Oh shit…you’re WAY better, Hoodie! You’re mine!

Red Hood: Fuck yeah, doll! I’m all yours…

Nightwing: No comment…

Red Hood: Yeah, keep your mouth closed, Dickface!

Nightwing: Ooohhh…what a burn.

Red Hood: Be offended circus boy…you’re only as sexy as Mister Rogers.

Y/S/N: Can we all just get along?

Red Robin: Maybe we should limit sexy selfies on here.

Robin: As long as you don’t post one, Drake. You’ll blind everyone on here and be responsible for the superhero shortage.

Batman: Robin…

Red Robin: Women find me attractive, believe it or not.

Robin: Your mother is still alive???

Batman: Both of you need to knock it off now or you’re both benched.

Y/S/N: Did you send the link to anyone else, Red Robin?

Red Robin: I just sent the links to Superman and Wonder Woman to check out my precious!

Red Hood: Okay, Gollum.

Nightwing: Cool! More friends on here!

Robin posts a selfie with Alfred, his cat.

Red Hood: Is that your new boyfriend???

Robin: What the hell, Todd?!

Red Hood: If Timbo fucks female androids, then I assume you fuck animals, too.

Red Robin: Thanks, Red Hood!

Red Hood: Only I can insult you and get away with it, Timbers!

Robin: I’ll cut your head off in your sleep, Todd.

Red Hood: I’ll just send Batcow to the slaughterhouse.

Batman: Do not post any threats on here, Red Hood.

Red Hood: So, he could, but I can’t??? How is this justice that you preach so much?!

Y/S/N: Guys come on…just enjoy this website!

You post a selfie of yourself in your sexy, tight costume. With a finger touching your lips, your eyes say “fuck me” into the camera.

Red Hood: That’s my girl! So…fucking sexy!!!

Nightwing: Damn…

Red Robin:

Y/S/N: Thanks guys…

Robin: At least you have the decency to not show off any female body parts, Y/S/N. As for you Todd, I hope you enjoy your last days with, Y/N.

Red Robin: Only our superhero names, demon spawn!

Batman: I swear…I need a vacation from you guys.

Y/S/N: Don’t forget Catwoman, Batman!

Batman: Of course, she’s going with me! You’re all acting like savages, and my headaches are getting worse!

Nightwing: Batman just used an emoji!

Red Hood: Holy shit! Has hell frozen over??

Red Robin: I can’t believe it! I believe hell did! Mr. Freeze is ice skating there as we speak!

Robin: Red Hood would know. Hell’s his biological home.

Red Hood: Go fuck yourself!

Y/S/N: Guys stop it!!!!

Red Robin: Robin started it!!!

Nightwing: It doesn’t matter who started it, just stop!!!

Robin: Bite me assholes!

Red Hood: Why would we?! You might have rabies and shit!!

Batman: That’s it! That’s fucking it!!!! I’ve had it!!!!!

Batman goes offline.

Red Hood: Finally, he’s offline!

Robin: Good! I was beginning to think our plan wouldn’t work!

Nightwing: Alright Red Robin, where’s the picture?

Red Robin posts a selfie of Batman, lifting his top part of his costume up, showing off his abs, muscles, bruises, and cuts.

Y/S/N: Everyone’s going to love it and laugh their asses off!

Red Hood: I gotta hand it to you, little bro. This project is perfect!

Nightwing: Yeah! I love this place already!

Robin: Even I enjoy this place as well.

Red Robin: Well, I’m glad you all love it. From now on, this place is ours!

Superman gets online.

Superman: Oh wow! This website looks like a lot of fun! We can all get to know each other better!

Nightwing, Red Hood, Y/S/N, Red Robin, and Robin go offline.

Superman: Oh, my goodness! Batman, you posted a selfie!

Batman’s selfie is saved on most electronic devices and has been reblogged over a hundred times.

#dc comics #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #batman #red hood #nightwing #red robin #robin #superman

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