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#closed thread: barbara
bielbraganca · 9 months
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" –––––– i “ the most he can say at first, cursing to be selfish and not ask how she was doing or how the kids were taking. he was so close to them; his mind could barely handle wonder to know what could have happened. “i think i should get back to lisbon” @barbiebraganca​
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f4nd0m-fun · 4 months
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So in a lot of these monster hunting fantasy webcomics, you have these things called monster cores. Imagine, if you will, an AU where the Justice League has always been in a world like this. Maybe an alternate earth, maybe the aliens are from different planes instead of planets, maybe you've got magic as the primary force and yet there's some who still manage to stick almost entirely to tech/magitech (like Bruce). These cores are essentially batteries, and the more powerful the monster the more energy you can draw. Also, I love the idea that, if you put it together right, you can technically recharge it.
Enter, the Phamily. Either they are from this world and the Fentons are monster hunters trying to find the origin place of the monsters, or this isn't their original world and they're trying to open a portal home.
Danny, Ellie, Dan, and Vlad if he's there, have cores. These can be considered batteries just looking at the way ectoplasm is used (imagine how much more potent the cores would be than the globs). Jazz, the parents, and Danny's friends if they're there too are liminal. This could mean that magic considers them part monster despite no cores, or maybe they're considered akin to warlocks or sorcerers, looked down upon but not actively hunted or something. Although the presence of the half monster kids and what seems to be a half monster dad... (yes this is probably a family breakfast ship, sue me if you dare) well, Vlad is gonna be determined to fight off the rumors with whatever he's got, there's no need for his darling Maddie to get worked up about idiots, aside from him and Jack of course. (I also love Vlad x Connie so this could either be Vlad is just an uncle or we get Connie in and call it Family Party or something - Party cause alcohol?)
Also not entirely sure on how I'm writing Bruce and Dick here, I want them to be able to access magic in some way, but sensing magic might be more of an Oracle/Barbara thing, I'm not sure, but also they can't do anything big or flashy with it, it's more tiny stuff which is why they rely on magitech. Also the idea that even if people can sense magic, usually they ignore changes aside from moving away from it if necessary cause usually it means a bunch of monsters are coming through a breach. Honestly, not sure how to run this but, eh.
The below segment is written with Native!JL and Isekai!DP in mind.
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Bruce had been tinkering with his latest animaga, a monster core whose energy had been threaded through one if his favorite inventions, intended to allow him and his ward flight with the use of monster wings.
"B!"
He tensed but refuses to startle as his ward all but jumped on top of him. "Yes Dick?"
"The magic feels weird!"
Bruce paused, setting his tools down. He knew as a half elf, Richard was sensitive to magic, but wasn't nearly as strong with it as most full elves.
Of course, Bruce had always been considered... disabled in that regard, a full elf who could only feel the energy close to him, though it wasn't public knowledge that he knew of. "That's good to know, Chum, why don't you meditate on it and I'll investigate tonight?"
His ward seemed to understand the intent to leave him behind and started to protest.
"Chum, I was going out alone before you showed up, if the magic really has changed, it'll be safer for me to go out and use the radar."
Dick whined but didn't protest again.
Bruce hoped he wouldn't sneak out this time.
As night began to fall, a family of 9 was gutting a strange metallic ship. Well, the three elder ones were, while the younger ones worked together to scout out the area.
Bruce had just arrived to the location, but chose not to interfere just yet. Batman was the embodiment of night to many, a fearsome predator to others, and some even thought he was a monster himself. Reconnaissance was his strength, as was stealth.
"I don't know, Jazz, the energy here is weird. Muggy almost." His form gave off a soft glow, not unlike that of the whisps, though much larger in body.
The girl with red hair, Jazz he presumed, did not appear impressed. "Like you're the expert on energy. Maybe you should ask Sam when we get back to Mom and dad."
"And Vlad."
"Don't remind me."
The glowing one shuddered. "I know him and our parents have been buddy buddy again but why did he take you find along?"
"Because you're still in training, Daniel."
Both children shrieked.
"I see your core has accepted me into your Fraid."
Bruce froze a bit. Core? Thier energy was certainly strange but not entirely monstrous, hence his inactivity, but the presence of a core presented issues.
"Whatever, Fruitloop. Go back to camp."
"I don't think I will, you're being watched and I can't have my son or daughter being in harm's way."
"Give it a rest, Frootloop, we're not your kids." Despite their attitude, something about their reaction and stance suggested they were worried about being watched as well.
Bruce wondered how they knew about him, perhaps he should have asked Lucius for help with a dampening field to hide the energy of the animaga?
"Don't bother flying away, you'll be surrounded before you can think." Vlad placed a hand on Danny's shoulder.
Before Bruce could react, there was a flash of light that all but burned onto his retinas, but the light was all wrong, a deep black instead of a glowing hue. By the time he was back to his senses, Vlad was gone, and in his place was another strange Whisp. Batman didn't have to turn around to find there were identical ones behind him. Clearly, this was an opponent not to be underestimated.
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kasdeyalilith · 1 year
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A Love Too Late
Note: So the most voted character in the poll is Diluc! Almost beating Xiao by 1 % so I decided to add him too and another surprise character in another fic but knowing my works you already have some clues hahahaha. Anyways here's the requested piece also thank you all for voting and stuff it's super fun.
Warning/s: Angst
Character/s: Diluc x Reader; Xiao x Reader
Synopsis: Grasping at the end of the thread in the hope of rekindling the lost love with you, but they're too late because you've already decided to marry someone else.
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DILUC
A knock echoes across the room before Barbara peeks in and told you that the wedding will begin. She excused herself, fidgeting in embarrassment, when she realized that you were preoccupied fixing your dress and checking your reflection in the mirror. A pathetic excuse, really, anything to delay making the most important decision of your life.
Marrying Kaeya was-is the best decision for you to make, after everything went downhill with Diluc he was always there to comfort and help you whenever you need it.
Yet there's always that nagging feeling that something is still missing, because even though you're happy with Kaeya now, the love you felt with Diluc is different. A love in its purest form that was ripped from you before you could even save it.
Loving Diluc will always be the best part of your life, but it's time to move on; even if you love Diluc, you know your relationship will never be the same again after what happened.
Sighing, you left your room tightly holding the bouquet of Kaeya's favorite flowers closely after making your decision.
You crossed the halls, counting the pillars before the looming door of the Cathedral came into view.
Caught up in trance you didn't even notice the shade of red before being led away. Your body, as if possessed, yields to his touch without even knowing who your captor is.
You have memorized and engraved that very scent and the curves of his hands, the dips of his shoulders.
He stopped walking but never let go of your hand, holding it closer as if you were about to vanish before his eyes.
“Don’t do it” he pleads
Head pounding from what’s happening, you drew your hand away in disbelief. Your eyes glaring at him as if anything could be so simple after what had happened.
“You don’t love him like I-”
“Don’t even start saying that bullshit again Diluc, we’re done and I know I’ll be happy with Kaeya”
His eyes shifted as the name of his brother leave your lips.
“By marrying him?”
He moves closer to you after he realizes you won't respond. His usual hard exterior is now bare and pleading as he stares into your eyes.
“I know all those things I did is unforgivable. I won’t even forgive myself but I am still in love with you (Y/n). I know I treated you poorly when you’ve been nothing but supportive and loving especially when my Dad- I shouldn’t have done all those things to you”
“But you did it anyway Diluc, I’m getting married now and the only thing you could do is to let me go”
“I can’t”
You faced him, your heart was burning and breaking so much that even crying won’t even be enough to show your pain, he's here expressing his everlasting love for you while in the past you've waited and waited for him to tell you that he loves you even if he's warming the bed of some woman he met at his tavern.
“You’re selfish you know that? Barging into my life again as if you can undo all that hurt you caused. Well shits been done Diluc, I’ve moved on and because I’m stupid and a pathetic excuse of a human I know that even if I marry Kaeya I’ll still care for you and that I can’t live without you but don’t make me prove that I can”
He moves to take your hand again but stops when you both heard someone running to your direction.
“(Y/n)? We’re all looking for you, if you’re having doubts and or anxious, I understand we can- what are you doing here?”
Kaeya's relief at seeing you was quickly replaced with a sneer directed at his brother.
“You’re not a part of this brother, best to leave us-” Diluc tries to hide you with his body but you stepped out of his reach before he can hold you again.
“No Diluc, we’re done here. Least you can do is respect my decision”
Turning your back to him, you keep your shoulders square as you brave your way through the halls.
You waited until the walls obscure your view of him before collapsing on Kaeya's embrace, silently crying on his shoulder as you ignore Diluc's shouts of your name.
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XIAO
He could feel the wind shifting, he can trace the nostalgia gleefully dancing with the gale.
The yaksha leans into the breeze as he surrendered to it, his clothes flapping against the wind. It was almost like the sound of their laughter, clear and calming even against the howl of the wind.
“Haven’t seen you relaxed like this since forever” you teleported beside him
Xiao stumbles as he regains his composure, you’re always like this, even the vigilant yaksha can be caught lacking when it comes to you. Only you.
“What do you need (Y/n)?”
He tries to be stern, crossing his arms for good measure but blushes when you walk closer to brush a single leaf from his hair.
“I’m here to deliver this”
The adeptus was just opening the envelope you gave him when you started speaking, drumming your fingers against the wooden railing to hide the nervousness in your voice.
“It’ll mean a lot to me if you come Alatus”
A wedding invitation, adorned with red and crimson borders contrasting his teal blue hues. The sides of the paper crumples under his hand before he give it back to you.
“Don’t expect me to make an appearance, the adepti are very busy to even entertain such occasions”
“But Cloud Retainer and the others are coming! Even Morax and Barbatos and Ganyu even Madame Ping!” your voice reaching a note higher to make a point.
“Why even invite me? Besides you’re tying yourself to that mortal. A foolish act honestly, you’re an adeptus and you’re going to waste your life with someone whose life is but a fickle?”
“That mortal saved and loved me when I’m in my lowest-”
“And I do not?!”
Surprised by his outburst, you tried calming him down as you smile hesitantly.
“That’s not what I’m trying to say Xiao and you know it”
“Then leave me be, go and waste your life away with him. I don’t care”
“Let go of my hand then”
Xiao only glares at you, his grip on your hand never faltering.
“You’re always like this, you always push me away then act as if you love me back. I tried Xiao, I really did but I grew tired of all this. It was like always crossing a tightrope with you. When you ended the relationship, I respected that and still tried to be there for you because before all this you were my friend but I’m so tired Xiao. I don’t think I can even be in your life anymore”
“No. (Y/n), I- let’s try again. This time I promise to not hurt you so please don’t- I don’t think I can live in a world without you in it”
He speaks softly, his breath catching as he waits for your answer.
“If you asked me years ago Xiao, I would have said yes but I can’t betray Kazuha like that”
Xiao's heart breaks for you again as he gazes at you. He can't see the love you had for him in your eyes as you usually do, he can’t accept the fact that he’s too late and already lost you to someone else.
You sighed, used to him disappearing on you in the past, as he vanished in a whisp of curling black smoke before you could move. Unbeknownst to you, a teal feathered bird was circling the mountains of Liyue, his song crying of regret and heartbreak.
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zahri-melitor · 5 months
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Some more coherent thoughts about Gotham War, now it's settled on me.
(Spoilers below cut, for length and as it's still only Wednesday)
It's not a huge surprise, but Selina's whole 'train henches to steal from the rich non-violently!' ended up being a complete side issue that only existed to get the plot moving. Nobody's conception of this plot, in two years time, will really include this detail, despite the thousands of words spent arguing how ridiculous it was.
Yes it remains a poorly thought out plan on Selina's part (she's never heard of earning money legally) but the narrative also frames it as long term ineffective from the very first issue and knocks it down on multiple occasions.
DC editorial definitely tried to dress this up as a full family event, but realistically it was a Bruce, Selina and Jason event, written by their three current writers, with solid bit parts played by Tim and Dick.
Vandal Savage remains ridiculous and ready to sacrifice anyone and I appreciate that about him. As a villain he was just the right level of stakes for this event.
I enjoyed getting to see Scandal, even if her fans would say she got done dirty here. Scandal usually has enough sense not to believe anything Vandal says, and I admit I was somewhat waiting for some level of twist here as to why Scandal was all for immortality at this point in time, but it never came.
I still agree it felt a lot like three separate plotlines intersecting, but I think they managed to land the event successfully (while leaving some nice loose threads). I actually appreciate they didn't overreach in their goals.
It still finished out with two separate plotlines: Bruce and Selina and Jason; and Dick and Tim and the rest of the family. Structurally this again reminded me as much of Resurrection of Ra's Al Ghul as Batman #138 did; the main plot and then the far more interesting Dick & Tim sideplot which is what I go back to reread. (Chip Zdarsky is clearly also a fan)
Also promisingly for an event yes, it did actually shake up the status quo and push the participants off in new directions.
So Bruce is now doing the Loner Batman thing (in that he's locked out of the fam computers/comm lines), Selina is officially 'dead' (what is with all these fake dead people with titles, Penguin is too right now), and Jason has what's effectively permanent fear toxin response to stressful situations. Also, apparently, we are getting Dick and Barbara back 'running' the Batfam while Bruce is on the outs.
As far as Bruce goes, what has been really notable in this event is how much Chip Zdarsky loves early 2000s Bat comics and their dynamics, and particularly Joker's Last Laugh. There's a lot of structural things about how this event was shaped, what specific characters did, and emotional beats that feel very JLL as someone who's read it at least half a dozen times. It's not the only influence, but it's a pretty prominent one.
Bruce ending the event in a position where he's effectively not working with most of the other Bats actually tracks reasonably well over to Batman & Robin, to my surprise. It makes sense that it's just Bruce and Damian and they're focusing on homelife and domestic relationship details between the two. It gives Bruce an excuse for why he's closely focused on Damian there.
I will admit I have not been reading Catwoman, but from the event it seems they're spinning her off to keep moving her back into a more antihero position. Tini Howard clearly has a direction she wants to take Selina.
I actually think this has pretty interesting storytelling potential for Jason. It means that he has to stay calm, or has to overcome his own fear to achieve things. It gives him a goal? Matthew Rosenberg clearly seems interested in using it for his Jason storytelling and he's got Jason right now, so...
I'm personally delighted by how much Tim Zdarsky wrote into this storyline. He used the space more to show off Dick and Tim's brotherhood and what Tim is good at, rather than push the Tim side of the Zur story we're all expecting to occur (there's that waiting Zur-Robin costume). Means he's planning it for Batman as a title itself rather than getting it tangled up here.
"It was the only way to become the second-best Robin". Yes, this is Tim getting to show off his core competencies - he probably is the only Bat other than Bruce who would have extensively studied all the trophies. Dick would remember a lot of them simply because a lot of the trophies are from old adventures, but pretty much all the others are not particularly retrospective, respect the past sort of members of the group, while Tim has always been surrounded by the shadows of the past. I loved this note.
I haven't talked about Babs yet! She's in green, in glasses, sitting down at her computers with a novelty mug, directing everyone, answering to Oracle. That's her! That's my Oracle!
I do think Bruce expecting Dick to take over running the Batfam right now is a big ask, given he's also running the Titans as the main superhero team on the planet and handling Bludhaven, but Tom Taylor's writing both those books so I don't expect to see the stress catching up with Dick there. Benefits of writer choice right now, I guess. Also personally 'Babs and Dick organise everyone while Bruce has a breakdown elsewhere' is one of my favourite Batfam dynamics so you know, I'm pretty excited if we actually get to see this play out.
New Lazarus Pit in Gotham! This won't be a problem at all.
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🔮 Good afternoon, my bookish bats. I hope you've had an enchanting, spell-binding October so far. If you want to add a little more magic to your TBR, consider these witchlit books featuring sapphic witches and other mystical beings!
🔮 The Scapegracers by Hannah Abigail Clarke 🪄 Payback's a Witch by Lana Harper 🔮 These Witches Don’t Burn by Isabel Sterling 🪄 Sweet & Bitter Magic by Adrienne Tooley 🔮 The Midnight Girls by Alicia Jasinska 🪄 Toil & Trouble: 15 Tales of Women & Witchcraft
🔮 Now She Is Witch by Kirsty Logan 🪄 The Dark Tide by Alicia Jasinska 🔮 The Circle by M. Strandberg & S.B. Elfgren 🪄 The Witch and the Vampire by Francesca Flores 🔮 The Shadow Cabinet by Juno Dawson 🪄 Elysium Girls by Kate Pentecost
🔮 Edie in Between by Laura Sibson 🪄 When We Were Magic by Sarah Gailey 🔮 Marvel's The Runaways 🪄 Her Majesty's Royal Coven by Juno Dawson 🔮 Mortal Follies by Alexis Hall 🪄 Buffy the Vampire Slayer Willow & Tara
🔮 All the Bad Apples by Moïra Fowley-Doyle 🪄 The Severed Thread by Leslie Vedder 🔮 The Lost Coast by A.R. Capetta 🪄 Romancing a Gorgon by Tallie Rose 🔮 Improbable Magic for Cynical Witches by Kate Scelsa 🪄 The Once and Future Witches by Alix E. Harrow
🔮 Not Your Average Love Spell by Barbara Ann Wright 🪄 The Sting of Victory by S.D. Simper 🔮 Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno 🪄 The Reluctant Witch by Kristen S. Walker 🔮 Witching Moon by Poppy Woods 🪄 Keep Your Witches Close by Colette Rivera
🔮 Walking Through Shadows by Sheri Lewis Wohl 🪄 Spellbook of the Lost and Found by Moïra Fowley-Doyle 🔮 Out of Salem by Hal Schrieve 🪄 Mooncakes by Suzanne Walker & Wendy Xu
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dairy-farmer · 3 days
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Jaytim half sibling au, where tim is catherine and willis todd's biological child. They put him up for adoption because they felt they couldn't support more than one child. Jason was only two or three at the time, and only has vague memories of his mommy's tummy being big.
Maybe tim always knew he was adopted, but didn't care much, other than the odd daydream when he was lonely. He loved his parents, so he mostly fantasized about long lost brothers or sisters.
Idk how this would progress into jaytim, but I feel like this is a deep well for exploring Jason's mommy kink lol (imagine if tim has her smile)
👀👀👀👀 okay so i had a jaytim thread fic about tim and jason being biological fraternal twin brothers here!!!
but here tim knowing he's adopted and always being curious about the family he would've had if his bio parents kept him. it had been a closed adoption. willis had insisted, told catherine it would make things easier because they couldn't afford another child. not when jason was already such a big expense, plus at least with the adoption they'd recieve some money and that would keep their heads above water for the meanwhile. catherine, of course, knows willis is right. she knows they can't afford another baby. but...this is the first baby she's ever carried and now she has to give them up. it takes a toll on her. jason recalls years later never really knowing what pushed his mom into her drug habit. as far back as he could remember he knew she'd been self medicating with drugs and alcohol. he thought his dad had been the reason. he'd hardly been a very pleasant person to be around. an asshole even. but...never a wifebeater. jason had always just sort of assumed his dad was the cause because he knows his old man had been a dealer at some point. jason only knew that because willis had harshly cautioned him against going down that path. it was one of the few times willis had tried to parent him by pulling jason by his ear away from a group of older boys that hung around a stoop across the street and harshly scolding him.
catherine never quite gets over losing her child. the only thing she has is the birth certificate and some papers from the agency that had set everything up. its what sits at the bottom of some forgotten box long after she has died and so has willis. it gather and collects dust in the closet of the apartment in the building jason grew up in. and it won't be until decades that jason scouts out the condemned building, feeling some sense of nostalgia as he determines the amount of work that needs to go into fixing the whole building up so that it can house new families. jason goes into that old one bedroom apartment, runs his fingers through the thick layer of dust. odds and end furniture that was never thrown out because that old landlord had never been able to find a new tenant after jason's dad was locked up and his mom died and no one was left to pay rent.
jason stumbling across that box, going through it, finding an odd set of papers and just...staring. remembering being two, nearly three and recalling how he'd press his ear to his mom's tummy and giggling along with her at the feeling of something pressing against his hand. its just bits and flashes like how its around the time his mom started on a downward spiral that ended up killing her.
jason finally figuring out this was the reason why. that somewhere out there was a little sibling he'd never known.
maybe he can't go to barbara with this because she'll likely spill to dick or run to bruce to tell on him. jason's options are limited and so he turns to the only other detective that might be discrete about it.
tim helping jason with his search because the adoption agency has long since shut down and were active during the time of paper record keeping.
the two of them growing slowly closer, getting to know each other better. jason thinking tim's not as bad as he thought he was that sometimes...tim might even...remind him of his mom.
he dismisses it because it was that visit to his apartment that makes him all sentimental...makes him think of his mom more often and the good times they had together like her warm laugh and the soft skin of her hand. and sometimes...when jason is dead tired and tim's is the closest place to crash...sometimes....tim does those little things that make the kid part of jason's brain just melt because his mommy is there.
jason and tim starting to sleep together and the the absolute ice bucket chill that hits them both when tim manages to track down the couple that adopted jason's sibling and it's jack and janet drake 👀👀👀
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Note
Hey, I'm just now catching back up on your writing after not reading much fic for awhile so sorry if you've already written something like this but the neighbor reader finding out about Jason being Red Hood got me thinking about how gentle giant verse reader found out about him being Red Hood?
Jason watched the bar from across the street and idly wondered if you'd let him do a body shot off you if he asked very nicely. He'd love to lick a trail of salt from your belly and feel you squirm, trying not to giggle. Maybe if he could get you alone-
He looked at his watch and frowned. Charlie had been there for closing up for 20 minutes. You should have left by now but you hadn't. So far as he could tell you weren't even IN the bar. So he pulled out his phone.
"Brass Bell, Charlie speaking how can I-"
"Is Y/N around?" he asked.
"Oh. Hey, Jason. No she left about 30 minutes ago. Said something about needing to follow a thread for her thesis?"
"I'll try her place. Thanks Charlie."
"Yup," he said, hanging up the phone.
"Shit," Jason hissed hitting his comm link, "Oracle?"
"What's up, Hood?"
"Can you get me a fix on Y/N's phone? She left the Brass Bell 30 minutes ago- Just wanna make sure she's not out running around-"
"Piss someone off tonight?" she asked, clicking keys.
"No more than normal," he snorted.
"Okay well- it looks like she's in a car headed towards the docks? Did she piss anyone off?"
"Don't know how." Jason said, revving his bike. "Is Nightwing or Spoiler-"
"Spoiler is enroute and Batman isn't far behind... Looks like you gotta marry her now Hood, she's had her initiation kidnapping."
"I was afraid of that-"
"Looks like Riddlers guys- what's she study again?"
"Anthropology," He answered, banking and racing towards the docks.
"Huh," Barbara said, "Interesting. Last week it was an entomologist,"
"What the fuck-"
"I'll get Red Robin on it. If this is going to keep happening something is up... You should probably think about telling her thr truth. Or at least part of it."
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The Captain is more closely related to Alison than any other member of Button House
And here's why.
Warning: spoilers for season seven of Call The Midwife, extreme speculation, and the use of headcanons to forward that speculation lay ahead, read at your own risk.
The factuality of this statement hinges entirely on one headcanon, and that is:
- The Captain has at least one sibling, an older sister, and she looks somewhat like Alison.
I could argue for days on the stance that the Captain is a middle child of many siblings, but that's a post for another day.
I pin this sister's birth year to be around 1897, and as such would be in her late thirties or bang on forty for the birth of her two children (incoming Call The Midwife link) Margaret and Barbara.
In the show, Barbara (the younger of the two) is played by Charlotte Ritchie, so it only stands to reason that both her mother - the Captain's sister - and her sister Margaret would also have similar features. But unfortunately Barbara cannot be our linking thread due to her untimely death, Margaret on the other hand is free and entirely unknown.
If Margaret were to marry and have a daughter of her own, the timelines would match up splendidly for that daughter to be Alison's mother after marrying that distant Button. (Being that the Button connection is on her father's side, it doesn't interfere and is therefore entirely plausible.)
To put a long story short, the Captain's sister married a man named Arthur Gilbert with whom she had two daughters, and one of those daughters was Alison's grandmother, making the Captain Alison's great-granduncle.
Never leave me alone with unknown family histories in the throes of hyperfixation or I just might find a link between the most distant characters.
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batfambitches · 1 month
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|| CLOSED || Bruce & Percy ||
@txkethefall based on the verse we made with THIS THREAD. I am 100% using you to practice Bruce.
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“How are you settling in Percy? The others aren't giving you to much trouble are they?” Mostly he was worried about Damian, the boy had grown a lot in the last few years but he could still be pretty abrasive sometimes. Then there was the worry Jason would get him into trouble. Honestly the only ones he wasn't to worried about were Barbara, Dick and Duke but he was pretty sure Barbara and Dick hadn't been over since Percy got there.
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cdyssey · 1 year
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Zipper
Summary: Frankly, Barbara Howard has never had so much trouble with a damn zipper before.
A/N: Hi, @athenaseden! I'm so glad that you were one of my giftees for @abbottgiftexchange! Thank you so much for being such a positive light in the fandom with your great edits, your kindness, and your passion for anything and everything Work Wives! Hope you enjoy!
AO3 Link
“Hey, Barb,” Melissa’s voice floats outwards from the en-suite bathroom in their shared hotel room. “Can ya help a gal out a little here?”
“Anything for you, sweetheart,” she idly responds, not really paying much attention. She’s been stretched out on her bed, ankles primly crossed, for sometime now, just watching the Food Network, passively admiring the way that Alex Guarneschelli moves through a gleaming kitchen.
(Mm! That woman sure knows how to work a whisk.)
Melissa, meanwhile, has been in the bathroom for the past half-hour or so, getting ready to go down to the hotel bar and catch a televised poker championship with a couple of teachers they had met at the conference earlier today.
“Fun dudes, but probably not. Nah,” Melissa had said of them, shrugging in an almost casual manner when Barbara had carefully asked if she planned to stay out for the night. They had been in the hotel elevator together, ascending to the correct floor, their shoulders just barely brushing, the delicate skin of their forearms, and the question had electrified the thinnest space between them.
She had shuddered inadvertently and dubiously blamed the cold.
Barbara always discusses sex in euphemisms, treats it like it’s something too dirty to ever articulate with her mother tongue, but Melissa, perpetually a good sport, easily plays along.
Often teasing Barbara.
Sometimes even openly mocking her.
But, for all of her snarky witticisms, she indulges her nonetheless. They speak about sex in the same way mischievous kids come up with creative alternatives for swear words to use when they’re around their parents.
(In their heart of hearts, they both know what they’re poorly disguising anyway.)
 “Eh, they’re a little too goody two shoes for my tastes if y’know what I mean,” she had continued, chuckling. “I like my men the same way that I like my beer.”
“And how is that?” Barbara had only smiled, all balanced again, anchored and blissfully  moored, relaxing at the implicit confirmation that Melissa would return to her well before midnight, that there would be no tomfoolery behind closed doors, and that there would be Melissa, not even five feet apart from her in another bed, stretched on her side, the thin blanket outlining the hourglass silhouette of her body.
Barbara had liked that incredible sight when she had woken up this morning.
Very much.
(Perhaps entirely too much.)
(She had stared, in reverent awe, far longer than propriety would allow, until Melissa stirred herself and finally turned to face her, the crow’s feet just edging her eyes crinkled in a laughing hello. )
“Tall, robust, and just a little bit dirty,” Melissa smirked coyly, waggling an expertly arched brow.
And Barbara had immediately elbowed her in faux-outrage because that was just what she always did whenever Melissa made a vaguely crass joke. 
“Girlfriend!”
And Melissa had pouted in faux-indignation because that was just how she always responded when Barbara was faux-offended.
“What? I’m just tellin’ it like it is.
And all was right with Barbara Howard’s world so long as this careful pattern that she and her partner have threaded together for over twenty-something years was so perfectly maintained. She leaned into her friend then and laughed freely.
She was comfortable again.
She was secure.
It’s been a lovely trip all around—the both of them have gotten tons of good tips about integrating tech into the classroom—and, well, it’s been nice for a slew of other reasons too, most of them having to do with Barbara’s semi-recent divorce and what shortly followed afterwards: Melissa insisting that they do fun things together over the summer break.
And she was a uniquely stubborn woman, the second grade teacher.
She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
And so, in the last month alone, they’ve gone to the movies and shopped ‘til they’ve dropped and taken art classes at the local civic center. They’ve visited museums and thrift stores and cozy cafés that no one else but them and Philly’s hipster population seem to know about. On one particularly memorable occasion, they picnicked in Fairmount Park, spreading their blanket near a bed of honeyed daffodils, and Barbara read aloud from a collection of John Donne poems as Melissa spread jam on their sandwiches.
The kindergarten teacher is well-aware that most, if not all, of this has been for her benefit—that by fun, her red-haired companion is openly caring for her, making sure that she gets out of her achingly empty house, redeeming her from the prison of all her thousands of collected hurts.
Thirty-seven years had been a long time to be married, especially when the last five of them had consisted of both herself and Gerald politely ignoring the fact that they had run out of things to talk about anymore besides the basics: they loved God, they loved their girls, and they were mutually obsessed with their respective jobs. 
They both thought that the other worked too much.
And in the end, they had argued about that fact all the time, even though it was not the crux of the problem but rather just another side-effect of it—the excuse they could readily latch onto when facing the truth was unbearable.
Gerald was always so gentle after a fight, though, apologizing profusely for all the things he did and didn’t do. And Barbara was wracked with Christian guilt, that mighty scourge, wondering many questions, though two most of all.
Where had it all gone wrong between them?
And why was the place she felt most at home in a school, in a certain classroom, at a special round table that was reserved for only two?
Before she could satisfy either query, though, she and Gerald had amicably divorced nearly a year ago to the day, and she had set all forms of introspection about herself and her failed marriage and her home away from home in the teacher's lounge aside, incapable of performing such tender examinations on still open wounds.
Her ex-husband still calls her sometimes, and they talk enthusiastically about the girls, what Taylor is up to at her job, how they think that Gina’s girlfriend might finally propose to her this year. And occasionally, when nostalgia or wine hits them just right, they reminisce about the thousands of good times they assuredly had too, even though neither of them have any inclination to return to the start.
Barbara loves him even still. He will always be family to her. He blessed her with their two beautiful daughters. They were wonderful partners for nearly four decades.
She is not in love with him anymore, though, and that is the crucial—sometimes still sad—difference.
Melissa has understood this involved dichotomy, far better than most, and she has offered her shoulder to lean on every time Barbara has nearly asked. She doesn’t ever request Melissa’s help herself, of course, her pride always balking at the terrifying idea of being so vulnerable before another, but her friend has always known when she has needed it.
When she has wanted it.
Ached for it even.
Yearned.
And so, here they are in a shared hotel room at a pedagogical conference in Manhattan that neither of them had really been able to afford to attend, but Melissa had known a guy who knows a guy who got them discounted passes. The younger woman had told her that this was just another fun thing too, a chance to discover some new ideas to bring to their classrooms… but Barbara knows—and is deeply appreciative of the fact—that this is yet another way that she is being so powerfully loved by Melissa Schemmenti.
“Okay, coming out,” she calls from the bathroom. “Don’t laugh, okay?”
“Never,” Barbara hums, finally turning away from the TV.
She assumes that she’s just helping with a necklace or taking the rollers out of her friend’s hair, nothing about their previous exchange exactly preparing her for the moment when the barely cracked bathroom door slowly opens, and there—in the triangle of light fanning across the carpet, stumbling a little, one of her black stilettos catching on her other ankle—is Melissa in a sophisticated cocktail dress, black and silky, the neckline plunging in low places.
Her vivid hair spirals over her bare shoulders in soft, elegant curls, and the reflective fabric of the dress rides over the outline of her curving hips with care, precision, and an unmistakable stroke of sensuality.
Barbara Howard, her mouth fallen open in a perfect, comedic o, is utterly speechless.
Incoherent and overwhelmed at the sight of her.
She barely remembers her own name, much less how to capably speak. 
“Well?” Melissa asks, at once impatient and self-conscious, her cheeks rather rosy with blush. She shifts her weight from heel to heel. “You gonna sit like a log, or are you gonna come zip me up?”
“Zip… you… up?” She echoes dumbly, every syllable punctuated by a rather unnecessary pause. There is something caught in the pillar of her throat—perhaps dust, perhaps her beating heart—constricting her ability to breathe.
“Yeah.” Melissa suddenly turns, revealing a long vee of creamy skin trailing down the length of her back, a hint of her black bra visible, a clasp that just seems to be barely hanging on. The vertex of this sliver, of this little slice of Heaven, ends just above Melissa’s lower back.
Barbara swallows indelicately, unable to pry her eyes away from this remarkably inappropriate place.
“Can’t reach back there,” the other teacher goes on, seemingly oblivious to the chemical reaction denaturing Barbara’s insides, “and the zipper hole’s too small for that wire hanger trick.”
“Oh,” she can only force herself to say. “I see.”
And so, with mechanical movements, all of her limbs alien to her and awkward in proportion to her body, she peels herself off of her hotel bed and shuffles across the soft carpet like a sailor drawn by siren song across the distance of that wine dark sea. 
Temptation is assuredly Melissa. 
Salvation quite possibly too. 
If utter consumption follows, then at least Barbara will die in glorious rapture.
She has never seen someone so beautiful, and it is only as she finally reaches the other woman, less than three feet away from her and then mere inches, that the strangeness of the situation suddenly dawns on her.
Melissa doesn’t wear elegant dresses and Old Hollywood ringlets to bars. She wears leather jackets and black jeans and lovingly scuffed boots. She throws her hair back in loose ponytails. She buys her favorite jewel-toned v-necks in bulk from Target.
The effect is charming in a rugged kind of way.
“All of this,” she croaks, her shivering fingers now poised above that zipper, beneath which the outline of a lace elastic band is just visible, “for a drink with a couple of men from Vermont?”
She doesn’t know why she says men like that, as though she has already judged them and found them wanting.
As though precisely none of them are deserving of the sight of Melissa Schemmenti dressed for the nines.
She supposes that they're all perfectly nice—good teachers, passionate about what they do.
That still doesn’t grant them access to the Holy of Holies.
“Connecticut,” Melissa corrects, with some amusement. “And no, this isn’t for them. It’s… uh, well, you know Alice? That teacher who did a really good speech on music therapy? She’s also gonna be down there. We might grab dinner later.”
Alice Liang.
Yes, Barbara certainly remembers her—a stunningly put together woman in an excellent turquoise pantsuit, who had carefully and exhaustively delineated the importance of preserving music classes in schools. In the corner of her notes—(in the big, even letters she knows makes it easier for Melissa to quickly decipher)—Barbara had scratched out that she looked a little like Michelle Pfeiffer, tilting her notebook so that her companion could see.
Yeoh, Melissa had scrawled back, silently snorting.
But yeah, she had added. She’s hot.
Barbara hadn't gone as far as saying that—(even if she did unaccountably think it)—and it immediately threw her off that Melissa did.
And then, on top of that, Melissa went up to Alice after the presentation was over, and Barbara had watched from afar as the two women talked, both animatedly gesturing with their hands, sometimes laughing at something the other had said. Around ten minutes of this, with Barbara growing antsy enough to consider going over there herself—(To interrupt? To satisfy her ungodly curiosity? To drag her friend away? She didn’t know)—they pulled out their phones and seemingly exchanged numbers before Alice turned away to talk to other attendees.
And Melissa had returned to her, looking quite pleased with herself.
“Another prospective admirer of Melissa Schemmenti?” Barbara had asked in a tone that she hoped to God sounded light. The twinkle in her friend’s eyes discomfited her for no good reason. It inexplicably annoyed her that she hadn’t been the one to tease this lovely softness out of her.
And that it’d been a virtual stranger.
A breathtaking woman at that.
“Oh, shut up,” Melissa had only laughed, ribbing her with her elbow. “I just wanted t’see if she’d send me some more of her research later. I’d love to make silly song time better for my kids.”
“Suuure,” she’d drawled, unconvinced, attempting to remain playful.
“I’m bein’ serious, Barb!” Melissa poked out her lower lip, indignant. It was less ferocious than it was adorable. “It was just shop talk.”
“Don't get your panties in a twist—I believe you!” She had laughed, she had placated, she had soothed—(both herself and the other woman)—patting her friend on the arm like she would one of her kindergarteners, convincing herself that perhaps the conversation had been purely platonic. (Perhaps she had simply imagined the moment when Alice’s hand had lingered on Melissa’s back as they parted.)
And yet, despite everything, despite all that each woman had done to deny significance of that exchange, here Melissa is now—in an unspeakably striking number—for one Ms. Alice Liang.
“I thought she was not, in fact, another member of the Melissa Schemmenti Fan Club,” Barbara teasingly accuses, even as her stomach clenches, even as something unpleasant settles at the hollow of her throat. She pinches the zipper between her long fingers and begins to pull it upwards with slow deliberation, watching, mesmerized, as the teeth close over that smooth and beautiful skin. 
She could be quicker about this whole ordeal, a little voice inside of her quietly suggests.
She shushes it.
She gently tugs.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to stay out tonight,” she adds, dragging out every syllable on her tongue. She appreciates the fact that even though every other part of her body is conspiring together to shut down, her voice is somehow unshaken—low and deceptively smooth.
“Well, I lied, okay,” comes a huffed, embarrassed reply. “I won't object if a pretty woman in a blazer asks if we can go get cosmos. Sue me.”
A slight pause then as she tilts her head to look at Barbara, her chin resting on her slightly freckled shoulder. And though the swoop of her auburn hair eclipses part of her profile, Barbara can still see the crooked curve of her mouth.
That red and radiant smile.
And she briefly stops her very inefficient zippering—nearly three quarters of the way done—frozen, her knuckles resting just above Melissa’s bra line.
“I supposes that makes sense,” she rasps in a thoughtful tone, as though they are simply talking about the incidentals of the weather.
They are absolutely not.
They are openly talking about the way Melissa is very much attracted to and attractive for other women.
Of course, even though the two of them never talk about sex outright, Melissa has never shied away from being candid about her sexuality with Barbara. Indeed, when Gina had come out to her and Gerald a few years ago, it’d been Aunt Mel who had apparently been a silent confidant for her daughter even long before that, telling her of own experiences, assuring her that her parents would love her no matter what.
In that moment, Barbara had deeply appreciated the confidence that Melissa had placed in her.
And ever since then, she has occasionally wondered about that exquisite—(and somewhat conceptually remote to her)—promise of being loved no matter what.
No restrictions.
No insurmountable barriers, no carefully articulated boundaries in-between.
Love that is not circumscribed by the comfortable mantle and the heavy burden of tradition.
Love that is fully liberated.
Love that is unconditional.
“You... said of men that you prefer them like you like your beer. Would I be too”—she searches for the right word in the vast dryness of her own mouth— ”forward in understanding that you have a different palate for women…?”
“You’d understand right,” Melissa says carefully, her voice suddenly solemn and hoarse, sieved of its teasing and its mirth.
Barbara still hasn’t zipped her dress.
Frankly, she doubts she ever will.
“I like my women like I enjoy my wine.”
“And how is that?” Barbara asks the same question all over again, but she is not smiling this time. Not even close. And she is not comfortable, thoroughly unrelaxed, far from at ease with herself and the unspoken tension that vacuums up the air between them. She is teetering on a precipice—toes curled over the unguarded edge—and looking down at the seething sea, calculating her chances for survival if she unreservedly jumps. She is touching Melissa Schemmenti’s exposed skin, and she is incapable of coming up with a rational reason for why she should stop doing so.
She's always had a rational reason before.
A marriage to a good man.
A diamond encrusted cuff on her fourth finger as the material proof of this fact.
But now it's in her jewelry box of a reliquary, consigned to the past, ancient history.
And now she is unbalanced without its restrictive safety.
Horribly insecure.
Unmoored.
Knees bent in preparation for the dive all the same, a prayer of faith lacquering the tip of her tongue...
“Good,” Melissa replies huskily. “Vintage. Full-bodied, like it’s tasted its fill of the world before I've even touched it. Elegant and always there when I need it. Swirling with all sorts of complex notes, the symphony rollin’ across my teeth."
“That’s… quite a lot to ask of one woman,” Barbara tries for a joke that falls flat as soon as Melissa finally sweeps her hair back behind her ear, revealing the profound darkness of her eyes, how they are speckled with so many glittering stars.
“Oh, I think I know of someone who can cope...”
Barbara Howard doesn't need any more prompting than that—she leans forward and and captures the taste of Melissa’s lips against her own, sipping slowly and savoring, relishing, discovering, her fingertips still touching the other’s arching spine. Melissa is a practiced sommelier, and she is ever so gentle with Barbara as she expertly explores what happens when the two of them brush tongues. It is a patient and glorious sensation, a sweet buzz that lingers and radiates outwards through Barbara’s entire body.
Every atom in her shudders with holy, intoxicating delight.
She has leapt and not fallen.
She is flying.
She is kissing Melissa Schemmenti; she is being kissed; and though she has been kissed so many times in her sixty-six years of life, she has never been kissed like this before—as though she knows how to innately return the favor forward.
They eventually have to catch their breaths, even though they're loathe to break apart, all of their limbs now tangled and intertwined, Barbara's hands on Melissa's hips, Melissa's fingers curled into the collar of her shirt. She presses her head against the younger woman's own, inhaling the aroma of her, the vanilla and the honey and the smokiness of her wild perfume.
“Shit,” Melissa breathes, her cheeks flushed. “I got all dressed for nothing.”
“I can possibly help with that,” Barbara only replies, finally reaching upwards to grab a hold of that damn zipper, and at long last, undoing what she had so imperfectly done.
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klbwriting · 21 days
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The Jason Todd Anomaly
Chapter 21: Is It Going to Kill Me?
Fandom: Red Hood
Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader
Warnings: none
Summary: Jason asks Gordon for help and Alfred discovers an antidote
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YN got Jason into Jim Gordon’s office through one of the employee entrances. Gordon knew about their identities, but Jason wore his gear anyway, just in case anyone caught him. Red Hood meeting with GCPD wouldn’t be super surprising considering their bordering territory, but him meeting with Jason Todd might seem strange since none of the Wayne boys had been around. He was regretting that now. He honestly didn’t know how this meeting was going to go and he dreaded Gordon not helping them. YN stood by the door, watching for anyone who might be curious. Gordon finally entered the office and sighed, looking so much older now.
“What do you want?” Jim asked, voice gruff, exhaustion laced through it. Jason looked down for a moment, shame seeping from his pores.
“We know about the court, what they’re planning,” he said. He presented the compound and the maps with the notes. “We need your help to stop this.” Gordon barely glanced at the evidence and Jason felt his heart sink.
“We cannot help you, we barely on hanging on by a thread,” he said. “I don’t want this to happen anymore than you, but we are spread too thin, and the court can help.” He didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying, only repeating what he was told. Jason nodded.
“I’m sorry Jim,” he said. Gordon looked up at him. He looked so different than what Jason remembered. First Barbara dies saving people in the big flood, then Bruce? Then the brothers, they were so wrapped up in their own grief and trauma they forgot about everyone around them. Jason sighed and turned, heading out of the office. YN followed him out the way they came in, stopping down the street in one of his little nooks that he kept for gear. Once he changed Jason leaned against the alley wall, staring at the building across from him.
“We planned for something like this,” YN said, leaning on the wall next to him. “We knew they might not help us.” She heard a sniffle but didn’t look at him, which Jason appreciated. She just reached over and took his hand. “Its not your fault.” He broke, leaning over, pulling her against him. She held him close, letting him grip her too tight, feeling her shoulder get wet as he leaned his face there, shaking. She didn’t say anything, just let him heave sobs into her shoulder for as long as he needed.
They stayed in that alley for almost an hour, until Jason was sure that every single part of him was dried out. He felt crackly, like all his edges were frayed, that he would disintegrate into the pavement if YN let go of him. She didn’t mind, she stayed, quietly holding him until he pulled back, standing straight again, feeling his back ache a little from his hunched posture.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. YN nodded. He was about to start walking back to his bike when she stopped him, taking his hand. He looked back at her, and she kissed him softly.
“Whenever you want to talk about it, we can,” she said. He nodded, kissing her again for good measure before leading her back to his bike.
They headed to the secondary hideout, Wayne manor had been too obvious a place to stay longer than a night, so now they were bunked down in the Monarch theater where Alfred knew some secret entrances and places to hide. As they headed across the stage YN stopped and looked down at the truncheon that still sat lopsided where she had killed Harley. Jason was a few steps ahead of he when he realized she had stopped. He turned back, going to her and looking down at the ground with her.
“It wasn’t actually that long ago when I killed her,” she said. “Feels like a lifetime after all of this court of owls shit,” she said. He nodded. “How is Gotham so fucked up?”
“Bruce told me once that the land was cursed by the Wayne family, some kind of old gothic legend of a Wayne finding a house on this land where a family lived. He killed the parents, forced the daughter to be his wife and she swore that no matter what success befell Wayne the land he walked would be cursed, his line would feel nothing but grief and end in nothing but bloodshed,” he said. YN felt herself shiver a little, wondering if the legend was true.
“Fucking Bruce Wayne,” she muttered. Jason chuckled.
“He didn’t start the curse,” he argued, and she rolled her eyes. “Maybe, always thought he might be a vampire or something, the man never aged.”
“Neither does Alfred,” she said in reply. She headed towards the side of the stage, going down those stairs and then the secondary stairs found behind a curtain in an old dressing room. They entered a small room that was made even smaller by the table set up in the middle, candles barely illuminating the maps of all the districts, marked with the locations of the water treatment facilities. Alfred was pouring over the components of the compound, trying to make some kind of antidote that they could put into the facilities to cancel out the other toxin. So far, he had no success.
“Miss YN, could you please come here and drink this?” he asked. YN frowned, glancing at Jason as Alfred held out a small vial of the compound.
“Is it going to kill me?” she asked, walking over and taking the vial. Alfred shook his head. She nodded and drank it, Alfred catching her when she became unconscious. Jason stared, watching as Alfred tried to wake her, going so far as to dump water on her, shake her, smack her face gently. She didn’t move and he felt panic welling up in him until Alfred dropped a few drops of another liquid on her lips. She opened her eyes and sat up, panting.
“What in the fuck Alfred?” she asked, looking around before she grabbed a nearby trash and threw up.
“We have found our antidote,” he said. “I am sorry, but Master Dick and Master Tim were away, and Master Damian has already taken the dosage a few times, I was worried he needed a break,” he said.
“I could have taken the vial,” Jason offered. Alfred looked at him.
“I was worried that if you died like that you wouldn’t recover again due to your exposure to the Lazarus pit, also, you died once Master Jason, I don’t know if I could live with it happening again,” the butler said, sealing the other vials on the small side table. Jason could understand that but didn’t like that Alfred had essentially killed YN just for an experiment. Then again, it was par for the course being in this family. She finally stood and went to lay down on one of the cots that lined the walls, Jason sitting next to her.
“Are you alright?” he asked. She nodded. “Between what this compound does and the way the court was talking it sounds like they want to poison all the criminal effected territories and feed the people to the talons.” He sighed. “We only have a week until the 4th of July, how can we possibly get enough antidote and get it into all the water treatment facilities in time?”
“I don’t know Master Jason, we are just going to have to do our best,” Alfred said. Jason nodded.
He just hoped their best was enough.
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bielbraganca · 2 years
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"so, this is how is going to look like,” he turns the ipad to his sister. “preserve the entire exterior and only a few modifications on the interior, but my idea is to start buying new lands, build from the ground and then sell.” @barbiebraganca​
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aba-daba-dooo · 2 months
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Guess who's in a new fandom and has written about 70 pages of fic in a week? I fell deep into the Psych rabbit hole about a decade too late and now it's too late for me. Please enjoy a sample of the first chapter below.
Impressively (Alter) Average AO3
Shawn lied. He knows he should have come clean to Juliet years ago about not actually being a psychic, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Telling the truth has begun to feel a lot more like lying. Gus, however, has a theory. What if Shawn has been a psychic all along and just didn't know it?
“Juliet.” 
The midday sun streaks through the blinds of the SBPD. It is unusually warm for Santa Barbara this time of year, and it’s always warm in Santa Barbara. Gus fidgets with the top button of his shirt, trying to let a fresh gust of air blow through his clothes. 
“Look, Gus.” Juliet turns around in her chair to face him. Her blonde hair hangs in thin threads around her face and dark circles drip from her eyes. Her bottom lip puckers with anxiety before she speaks to him. “If you’re here to talk to me about Shawn. I’m not in the mood, okay?” 
Shawn told him everything. 
It was a very rare moment that Shawn Spencer was open. And once it happened, it was like a waterfall. Shawn told him everything about the jacket, the ticket, Juliet, and then finding some strange girl covered in blood while taking the taxi home. They spoke in the hallways of the hospital where Shawn had taken her, his voice teetering between smooth and a wavering panic. 
Gus really wanted to say “I told you so”-- because he did. He told Shawn in the very beginning that lying about being a psychic was a bad idea and that he had to at least, tell Juliet the truth. But he couldn’t do that. Shawn was shaken in a way that didn’t seem possible, as much as he tried to hide it. 
Gus moves around her desk and stands at her side, finding more courage and spark in his step. “I just need you to hear me out.” 
“Hear you out?” With the words, her breath escapes all at once in a heave of thoughts and emotions she has clearly been trying to hold in. “He lied to me, Gus. He knows how I feel about liars and he went ahead and kept lying to me and everyone else.” 
“And you have every right to be upset but–” 
“And you knew too. The whole time! Which makes me angry at you too! You’re defending a liar!” 
“First of all, Shawn is my best friend and I will always look out for him. Second, he has been a shell of himself since you broke up with him. He’s been sleeping in the Psych office for days. He didn’t even want to eat the jerk chicken I brought him. He’s messed up.” Gus leaves out the part where he ate Shawn’s rejected chicken. What can he say? He’s weak for jerk chicken.  
“You know, I really don’t care.” Juliet rotates her chair back into the forward position, the clack of her high heels moving across the floor, and stares back into the computer screen in front of her. Converaation shut and closed. But Gus refuses to drop this. Not this time. 
He leans over the screen of her computer “But I’m not entirely convinced he was lying to you. Or at least, Shawn only thinks he’s been lying.” (see AO3 for the rest)
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havendance · 10 months
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The King is Dead, Long Live the King
Chapter 1: What do you do when the old man's gone?
AO3
Fandom: Batman
Featured Characters/Relationships: Dick & Tim (with bonus Jim Gordon)
Wordcount: 7300
Summary:
In the aftermath of Bruce’s death, his sons struggle to navigate all that he left behind. Gotham needs a Batman, family blood has been spilled, and there are skeletons in the bat-closet (Or: Bruce killed Jason. Jason killed Bruce. This is the fallout.)
At long last, I am here with the sequel to The Kindly Ones. Very excited to finally get this out :)
Excerpt:
Morning dawned in Gotham, the sun shining sickly light over a city that had, against all odds, survived another day. The GCPD received an anonymous call reporting a dead body lying in Crime Alley. Dead bodies weren't uncommon in Crime Alley. This one was.
Jim Gordon was just getting off his shift when he was called out to Crime Alley. It's an emergency, they'd said. Emergency didn't cover finding Batman's dead body growing stiff in a back alley. There was no doubt that he was dead and had been for a while. Rigor mortis had set in; he was lying in a pool of slowly congealing blood. The cowl was still on, but the rest of his costume was ripped and tattered, all of it stained with blood.
“What do we do?” Asked Officer Stolls. He was young, barely believed in the Bat, and had the misfortune to be the closest officer to answer to call.
Jim had been commissioner back when Bane had thrown Batman's broken body in the streets. He remembered how the city got when it thought the he was dead. He looked away from the body, shoved down the stormy mess of feelings roaring through his head. “We keep this quiet as we can,” he said.
They took pictures of the crime scene, got Batman's body bagged up as quick as they could. Hid it in a back corner of the morgue where hopefully no one would run into it.
Jim Gordon went home, tired to the bone. He knew he wouldn't sleep though. Grief hung over him, held back by only a thread, but he couldn't let it overwhelm him yet.
Jim had spent close to two decades working with the bat. The veil over his eyes was held in place by careful threads of plausible deniability and outright denial. For the first time in his life, he pushed it all away and called his daughter.
“...Dad?” Barbara's voice was thick with sleep. She'd probably just gone to bed. He almost felt bad for waking her. “What issit?”
“Batman's dead.”
“What?” There was no trace of sleep in her voice now. “When? Are you positive it was him?”
“Found the body this morning. Sure as hell looks like him.”
There was a long string of muffled curses from the other end of the line. Jim politely pretended he hadn't heard them.
“The body?” Barbara asked.
“Sitting in the Gotham morgue until we can figure out what to do with it.”
“Dad…” she trailed off. “Do—? Did you—?”
Did you take off the cowl? He knew she was asking. Do you know who he is? Do you know who I am?
“His mask was on when we found him,” Jim said. “It felt wrong to take it off.”
There was a soft noise that might have been a sigh of relief, might have been the wind.
“I see,” Barbara said. “And Dad?” Another pause, thick with the things they both knew but wouldn’t say. “Stay safe.” she said at last.
“As much as I can.” Jim said. “Love you, Babs.”
She yawned. “Love you too Dad.”
The phone clicked off. Jim sat at the kitchen table and finally allowed himself to mourn the man that against all odds, he'd called his friend.
That evening, when he went into the precinct, Batman's body had vanished from the morgue. Gone too were the pictures of the crime scene, the written report, and any evidence that there had ever been a call made about a body found in crime ally. There was a slip of paper on Gordon's desk, with a picture of a bat on it. He threw it away. The matter was out of his hands now.
Finish reading on AO3!
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bitimdrake · 2 years
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Was Dick welcoming towards Cassandra and Steph when they first joined the family? I’ve heard conflicting things about that
Cassandra
For when Cass joins the batfamily, this one's a yes.
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Dick and Cass meet in Batman: Legends of the Dark Knights #120, in the midst of No Man's Land. Dick's a little skeptical at first, but that's more because he's (rightfully) skeptical of Bruce's judgement. Bruce has spent months pushing everyone away, and now has finally called them all back only to abruptly drop "btw, I met this girl and she's part of the team now."
However, with Barbara stepping into vouch for Cassandra as well, Dick jumps on board pretty quick and welcomes her.
On the flip side, when Cass joins the Wayne family years later, the answer here is no. (Which is probably why you've heard conflicting information.)
This part comes with a huge caveat: it is built off bad plotlines and characterization. Cass had just gotten out of the evil!Cass arc--a rare case of DC editorial intentionally trying to destroy a character (as opposed to the common case of them doing it accidentally). A belated retcon declared she was brainwashed and not really evil, to salvage the situation.
In the wake of that, we have the Batgirl vol 2 mini, which is about Cass seeking redemption, and ends with Bruce offering to adopt her. And, presumably because the writers wanted an antagonistic force, Dick is...a huge asshole in this one.
I could try to justify this decision if I had too--they were never close to begin with, and Dick is skeptical that she's better now, and maybe he's overprotective of his current family especially after Cass nearly killed his beloved little brother Tim. But the way Dick is written in this mini is just so over-the-top aggro and distrustful of Cass it's hard to swallow.
Anyway, this thread gets continued in Batman and the Outsiders vol 2 #13-14, where imo the characterization is not quite as bad but still pretty bad. Dick eventually admits he wasn't totally comfortable with Cass's adoption, and the two make peace.
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Stephanie
If we're talking about when Steph first became Spoiler, was briefly endorsed by Bruce as Spoiler, or became Robin, this one has no answer on account of Dick and Steph never interact. Literally they were in one scene together that entire time, and never spoke.
Dick's main exposure to Steph was through what Tim told him. He's a little skeptical about Tim dating this girl--especially when he mentions her pregnancy--but that's about it.
Dick and Steph finally interact for real years later when she becomes Batgirl, which marks her true acceptance into the batfamily, and uh. No, Dick is not welcoming.
Steph makes the inauspicious introduction of ignoring Oracle's instruction to stand down and accidentally freezing Damian in the middle of a fight in Batgirl vol 3 #5, and Dick goes to argue with Barbara that Steph shouldn't be Batgirl.
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But unlike the Cass part above, this one actually makes sense!
Beyond Dick's overall stress level as a newbie Batman and Steph's poor introduction, Dick's second-hand impression of Steph up to this point is not good! She's the girl who accidentally started a gang war that got a bunch of people killed, faked her death and let Tim (and others, but Dick just cares about Tim here) be consumed by grief for over a year, and then accidentally started another gang war.
His impression is, of course, biased and one-sided. But it's also completely logical for him to distrust Steph and see her as a liability! I approve of this interpersonal tension.
Dick is still able to see and appreciate when Steph does well though, and she proves herself. By the end of the arc, he changes his mind.
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zalrb · 3 months
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ok so this is obviously on different levels but i remember in your review for tsitp you mentioned how belly and conrad wanna make some kind of “big” impact of off these moments of silence and just staring at each other, and how it falles flag bc they don’t have chemistry.
And even though it’s a completely different project and theme with like, arguably the greatest actor of all time starring in it, i did notice that a lot of phantom thread relied on scenes like them just staring at each other and not saying anything, and overall the idea of passion through an understated display, and i wondered what your take on it was? did it work for you in the movie? i felt like daniel day lewis was giving more than the girl but i also think that’s what it’s supposed to be like?
and sorry for comparing this in any way to belly and conrad lol, it’s very ridiculous as i write it but as i was watching the movie i kept thinking of that post you made 😂
Haha, no need to apologize, I get making the connection and do things like that myself a lot.
It's interesting that you use the word passion because I find Phantom Thread to be quite dispassionate, but I also find that with any of the PTA films I watch, there's an inherent distance, but what also makes Phantom Thread interesting I suppose is that the reveal is that they love each other while we spend the movie watching them try to control one another so that contextualizes the stares they have.
Like, if I'm watching Conrad and Belly, or a relationship like them, it's supposed to be cosmic and weighty and intense
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it's supposed to be things unsaid, it's supposed to be history, it's supposed unfulfilled desire or desire deferred, it's supposed to be longing, it's supposed to be pining and aching and angst and heartbreak
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which is why I was like, you need Ryissa this shit
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you need to Bangel this shit
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hell, you need to Ness this shit
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even fucking Jackson and Lydia do this better because Lydia is in the emotion and Jackson isn't a wall
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I should feel season 2 Chair angst watching you two
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It's supposed to be urgent and palpable and heart-stopping and frustrating, like even if he's supposed to be stoic or playing things close to the chest, he should look raw
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and if she's going to be drunk and messy and in her feels and spilling shit, then go there
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and have them feed off each other but you need a specific kind of chemistry for all of this and for someone who has grown up on 90s and 00s and 2010s dramas,
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Belly and Conrad were laughable.
And then with Phantom Thread, watching them stare at each other is more like an exercise, is watching how control shifts in their relationship, considering a major theme in this movie is control and power dynamics so the stares are posing questions: is she simply a muse that he will use and discard? Is she an object? Is it love? Will she succumb to his rules? Will she be suffocated by them? Who has the control in this moment, in this scene?
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and that worked for me because I thought they executed that well. I don't think I was supposed to watch them and see passion simmering between them in those moments, I think the first time they meet, we're supposed to see that flirty, awkward kind of chemistry and when they're horrible to Barbara we're supposed to see how giddy they are together but I find that the passion is mostly directed outward, in food
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in Alma's indignation over Barbara 'mistreating' Reynolds' work, in her literally poisoning him,
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as opposed to their stares, which is a chess match.
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