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#the others are like joker and handsome jack
god-complex-12 · 1 year
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Cigarettes
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Pairing: [Joker] Jack Naiper x reader
Pronouns: he/him
Fandom: DC
Quote: “Call me Joker.”
Description: Y/n gets a new housemate.
Disclaimer: Boring story, the story and Joker is just completely based on Chaz frome When You Are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris. The chapter is called The House. Great book. Recommend, but this story is almost exactly like that.Joker comes off creepy. It doesn’t really clarify if y/n really likes Joker. Joker is referred to as Jack. And cigarettes.
Master list
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An old building, it was. An old building, but y/n found it homey. An old building, filled with crazy people, and cluttered with antiques. It was more of just a big house. Y/n has lived there for awhile, it wasn’t the best place, but he couldn’t complain. He usually kept to himself, not talking with anyone that much.
He did know the drama. For instance, he knew that a student was moving out to go to college. He also knew someone was moving in. A guy named Jack, and y/n so happened to see him in the hall. No, he wasn’t moving in, he was just renting the room. He wasn’t to stay permanently, at least, that’s what y/n thought.
“You wanna help?” He asked.
Y/n didn’t talk much to him, he kinda just examined the man. He was slender, and handsome. He looked perfect, so y/n started to try and focus on his flaws. He has freakishly pale skin. His yellow teeth. But if you asked y/n, he found those things more appealing.
“You looking for something?” Jack asked, he had a cheeky smile.
Y/n didn’t respond. He just went on talking about something else. Jack wasn’t the nicest. He was pretty rude.
“Anyways, I don’t have to chit-chat.” And then he walked away.
He liked to do that. Leave the conversation early, like he wasn’t the one to start it. It was kind of annoying, but y/n couldn’t do anything about it.
Before Jack, everything was quiet. Now, the day consists of old 90’s rock music. It’s not that bad, it’s good music, but all day? It was annoying. Sometimes, Jack would come to see y/n. Knocking on his door asking for a cigarette. Y/n would cave in, handing him one, and Jack would stand there and smoke it. Y/n had to stand at his doorway and watch. Jack would complain about y/n’s room. Y/n didn’t think anything was wrong with his room. It’s clean. It’s neat. But Jack didn’t think so.
The longer Jack lived there, the more things y/n started to notice. Jack lost his job, supposedly because he was too good for it. Y/n doesn’t really know if he got another one.
Jack began to knock on y/n’s door more often. He had no care in the world for the time. He’d always have so many stories or some stupid conversation to say. Y/n tiredly listen.
Jack wasn’t the most stable person, and they came more apparent when he’d angrily throw stuff out his window, or break something and spread all of the pieces around staring at it. Sometimes you’d see him with a beat up face, he’ll say he got in a fight and won, other’s say he got jumped.
A lot of times when y/n would open the door, Jack would drag y/n out of the wrong, by aggressively grabbing his arms. Jack would control each of his limbs as a puppet. That was when it clicked something was seriously wrong with this guy. Y/n didn’t notice as fast as he’d like, maybe he thought someone so good and clean looking could be so lost.
Jack would even go as far as shoving notes under y/n’s door. They were creepy and unsettling. “I can die and be born again on the same day.” or “You’re my favorite, I’d keep you.” The writing was if it was written from blood. The dark red ink (If it was ink) was off putting. Y/n heard he didn’t to someone else in the house too, but it wasn’t as bad. That was when the landlord told him to leave. Jack had no choice but to agree.
Someone had come by to get his stuff and had said he was put into a mental institution. Said that he was schizophrenic. y/n wasn’t shocked, in fact he felt a little sympathetic, and even went to see him one time. “I knew you loved me. That’s why you were my favorite.” He’d say.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep it to yourself, Jack.” Y/n grumbled.
“Call me Joker.” He said and it seemed more of a threat than a request.
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vole-mon-amour · 19 days
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I don't know how to Google this and how to tag this, but can someone please recommend me a piece of media where the protagonist (probably more or less an average and good person, definitely sane and understands good from wrong) is canonically a good/best friend with the villain?
The protagonist doesn't want to kill the villain, nor do they want to fix them. The protagonist sees the villain's point and either thinks they're right or that whatever they're doing is kinda fun, why not let them and maybe even join them? They genuinely love their friend and aren't working with them because it'll help to save the world or whatever.
Think Batman and Joker (just like in Batman: Europa, Bat Jokes :). Think of Telltale's Batman where you can team up with Joker (a vanilla version of that, but still). Think of Bruce and Jeremiah, but Bruce loves even the post gas version of him.
Think Handsome Jack and Rhys ("I wanted to be just like him."), but Rhys teams up with Jack (and they're in love actually)
Think Pagan Min with Ajay that didn't leave at the beginning of the game, brought his mother's ashes where she wanted to be, and he's going to have a lot of fun shooting others with Pagan.
Think Joseph Seed and The Judge in FCND, except that The Judge came villingly and wanted to help.
Think of a vampire hunter that actually befriends the vampire they're supposed to kill and joins them. (Kinda Castlevania Netflix, but I want a more evil version. Like Isaac. "Because you all are so fucking rude!" Like Dracula. Yes, kings.)
I don't need two insane freaks. I want a sane person who shrugs and goes, "Why not?" And then joins their best friend who's the villain (that's maybe been right all along).
PLEASE recommend me media like that. I'll take books, TV shows, movies, VIDEO GAMES (!!! befriending the villain? let's go!). The hero saving the day? The hero fucking up the day and enjoying it!!
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scaryscarecrows · 3 months
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Any hurt/comfort fic in your scaryverse?
Loads. The below is 'Where Do You Think You're Going?' from Why Do They Kick Me?, but there are others in that collection and scattered throughout both volumes of Cigarette Smoke & Snark.
The rain’s coming down in sheets and Dove hates it, especially here, where there’s a crap-ton of ‘hitchhikers may be escaping inmates!’ signs.
She’ll be home soon, all done and over from delivering some handsomely-paid-for evidence that while the Riddler may be a criminal, he didn’t commit that crime and therefore is unlawfully detained in Arkham. He’ll be out by tomorrow and probably right back in on Tuesday, because Batman, but whatever, he’ll have a week. Maybe.
She kinda wishes she’d taken up Charlie’s offer to come with her, but it hadn’t been raining then. And it hadn’t been meant to take this long.
Between the rain and the darkness, she has no warning whatsoever before there’s a flash of color in her headlights. She hits the brakes and is like…eighty percent…sure she doesn’t hit them, but if it’s an inmate and they find out she didn’t stop, she’s screwed.
She rolls down the window. A bit. Sees nothing, and opens the car door, leans out and remembers too late that her umbrella’s in the backseat.
Oh, well.
The rain’s coming down in icy daggers and she knows it’s going to turn into snow later. She doesn’t see any color, at first, and figures maybe it was nothing-a misplaced jack-in-the-box, maybe-when she finally spots another flash of yellow on the side of the road.
It’s barely yellow, more grungy brown and now muddy to boot, but it’s there and it only takes a few seconds to register it as Robin-yellow.
“Oh, my God,” she breathes, sloshes through the mud and prays to anyone listening that she didn’t just kill Batman’s missing kid. “Oh, my God…c’mon, Robin, wake up…Jesus Christ, please don’t be dead…”
She didn’t kill him, anyway. She can hear him wheezing from here and when she gets closer he stirs, forces himself onto his back and tries to crawl away before going still, eyes closed and arms curled over his head.
“Fuck.” She crouches down. Partly it’s dark, partly it’s raining and partly he’s a muddy (bloody) mess, but she can’t make out what could be broken, ripped open…nothing. His limbs are all there, that’s the best she’s got. “Fuck, kid, okay…”
No way Joker let him go. No way. Dove knows he’ll come looking, if he isn’t already. She can’t just leave him here, the clown’ll be furious, he’ll kill him.
“Okay, Robin, okay, it’s gonna be okay, I’m gonna get ya somewhere safe, huh?”
She gets her hands under his arms and he jerks his head, coughs and whimpers, “Please don’t do it again.”
Jesus Christ--what was that?
She doesn’t know what idiot insisted on letting the woods around Arkham grow this wild. Crane may have been crazy and evil, but she’ll give him credit, the few escapees he had during his tenure were caught and dealt with very, very quickly, in no small part due to the lack of fucking trees. But whoever’s in charge now (they rotate so quickly…) either doesn’t have the budget or just doesn’t care, because they’re dense and dark and there could be anybody in them.
But right now, she doesn’t see anyone. She thought that was movement, but she was apparently mistaken. Or someone else is escaping, someone who just wants to get moving.
Not my circus, not my monkeys.
Robin’s shaking in her arms, hands clawing weakly at hers, and it doesn’t matter. They gotta go.
“Shh, shh, baby,” she soothes. “You’re gonna be okay. Think you can stand up?”
“Please, m’sorry…”
Probably not, then.
The mud is probably the best thing that could exist right now: it makes dragging him to the car a lot easier than it should be. She’ll worry about the upholstery later. For now, she’s good to lay the seat down and cover him with her coat before cranking the heater and flooring it.
And hope to God that flash of white out of the corner of her eye was an orderly.
* * *
Robin spends most of the ride either unconscious or otherwise unresponsive, but he perks up a bit when they hit midtown. Well. It’s all relative; he burrows into her coat and opens his eyes, anyway. Doesn’t react when she tries to talk to him, though. Just sits there, face tight and resigned.
Hospitals are out of the question. It’s easy, ridiculously easy, to get in there; murder a nurse and pop right in. Richardson does it all the time. She’ll call Jim, when she gets home, get him to get Batman and that shouldn’t take long at all. It’s safer. He got out of…of wherever he was (Arkham?), he can hold on until Batman can come and get him.
He’s capable of getting up, of letting her half-carry him into her apartment’s elevator, but he ends up on his knees before they’ve even hit the second floor.
Here, in the harsh lights, he looks awful; bloody and bruised and scared. He’s favoring his left ankle, trying to keep it away from the rest of his body, and Dove does not wanna know. 
His head’s slumped towards his chest and when she reaches down to lift it, see if he’s drugged, he flinches and whispers, “Please don’t hurt me, m’sorry, I won’t run again.”
“No, no, honey.” Maybe drugged, or maybe just sick; his skin’s burning under her fingers. His eyes are glazed over, pupils blown wide, and she doesn’t think he’s seeing her. “I’m not gonna hurt you, I’m gonna get you cleaned up a bit, try to get you home, huh?”
He doesn’t seem to understand.
“M’sorry,” he whispers again, a few tears carving tracks through the blood and dirt on his cheeks before hitting her palm, and she lets him go, watches the floor count go up. He wobbles a bit, fingers tensing against the carpet, and she’s not sure if she should try to steady him or not. She’s gonna go with not; they’re almost there and so far he hasn’t put up a fight.
She’d like to keep it that way.
Whatever’s up with his ankle, he gets to his feet when she tugs on his arms, shuffles down the hall with her and manages to stay semi-upright while she gets her door open. 
“Okay, kid, okay.” There. Door’s locked again, deadbolt ‘n all. “Let’s just…shower. C’mon, just a few feet, that’s all.”
She doesn’t even try to get his costume off, not now, not like this. It’s easier to just half-help, half-haul him into the bathtub and let him sink down, trembling and clearly trying not to cry.
The warm water makes him jump, at first, but he stays still after that, fingers knotted under his knees. The gunk that comes off him is reddish-brown and after a few minutes she can make out marks from barbed wire, and gashes in his uniform. He’s still and silent, gazing blankly at the rubber bath mat under him, and only flinches once when the water hits what turns out to be a ragged slash near his inner elbow.
“M’sorry.”
“Shh, don’t be sorry, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be sorry for.”
He’s quiet, after that, and she resolutely does not think about Joker’s ‘conditioning’ methods.
Once he’s sodden, she shuts the water off and nudges his head up, rubs a warm washcloth across his face. He sits there and lets her, doesn’t even try to struggle, and honestly…honestly, it’s unsettling. What happened to the boy that straight-up asked Penguin about the bottle in his eye socket?
“Okay, baby,” she murmurs, thumb rubbing dried blood off his cheekbone. “Okay, there we go… there you are.”
Sheesh. He looked bad before. Now? Without the excuse of grime? Those bruises are dark, like Harley’s can be, and the ones just under his jaw look like someone was trying to force something (pills food worse?) down his throat. He looks at her, still blank, before dropping his head back down and trying to hide a shiver.
“I’ll turn the water back on in a minute, but I wanna at least get your cape off, maybe the rest of this, huh?”
That rouses him a little more, makes him try to pull his head away and maybe try to get up, but he’s too unsteady to do much besides wobble.
“No, no—”
“Just to get you cleaned up, you’re a mess.”
He shakes his head but doesn’t fight her when she fumbles for the clasps on his cape. There’s nothing to do with it but toss it in the trash can; Batman wants it, he can come and get it.
She’ll worry about the rest of him later. Right now? Shampoo.
He cringes at the splop-splop noise it makes leaving the bottle and tries to pull his head away from her hands. But not for long-when her fingers dig into his scalp he stills, breath hitching in his throat.
“S’okay, kid, s’okay. Just gonna get some’a this crap off’a you, huh? Just a bit?”
He doesn’t answer her, just plunks his forehead against his knees and starts to cry.
* * *
He protests, once or twice more, when she gets him undressed the rest of the way, but once he’s out of the tub and in a shirt and some old sweats of hers he’s quiet again.
She has no idea what to do with him now. Call Jim, maybe. But first, bed.
Whatever kept him up and moving before-stubbornness, desperation, adrenaline-is spent and he doesn’t even try to help when she pulls him up. Surely he should be heavier than this, it shouldn’t be this easy to drag him around.
But it is this easy, and she’s almost grateful Cobblepot made her help him dump bodies in the river back in Ye Olde Days of his career. Almost.
She gets him tucked up in bed with a mountain of blankets on him and now he comes to life a little, blinking rapidly at the dim lighting and scrubbing his hand across his eyes.
“Where am I?”
Confusion is…an improvement.
“You’re okay, kid.” Well. All things considered. That ankle’s half-broken, not healing right, and even ignoring the cuts and bruises and fuck those are electrical burns what the hell, the rasp to his breathing is probably Really Bad. “You’re safe, you…you nearly got run over, but, y’know…”
More blinking, and that expression that people get when they’re trying to make sense of things. Then, “M-Miss Marquis?”
It’s something!
“Yeah,” she says gently. “Yeah. You’re okay, kiddo, I’m gonna…I dunno, I’ll get a hold of Jim or something and he can call Batman and he’ll come get you.” Robin coughs, tries to lever himself upright and she moves to prop him up. “Okay, honey, okay, there we go…think you can take a drink? That sound good?”
“Mm-mm.” He starts trying to go back down and she lets him, tugs the comforter back up to his chin. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, kiddo. You came outta nowhere.” She wonders where her phone is. “What about somethin’ to eat, huh? Couple’a crackers, maybe?”
“Mm-mm. M’sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Jesus Christ, he’s just a kid, no older than Charlie’s daughter. “Don’t be sorry, hon, you’re okay, you’re gonna be okay. Yeah?”
He just looks at her with wide, shiny eyes and whispers, “He’s gonna come for me.”
“Yeah, yeah, he is, he’ll be here just as soon as he can—”
“No.” He swallows, fingers creeping up to tighten around the edge of the comforter. “Not. Not Batman. J—”
His voice catches in his teeth and he squeezes his eyes shut, bunches the blankets into his arms like a makeshift teddy bear. Outside, the rain turns into hail, slamming against the patio with a determined TAPTAPTAPTAP!
“Shh, shh.” There’s two furrows running down from under his eyes, bruised and ragged. Fingernails, and she can just see those boney fingers, pale and heavy-knuckled, digging in and dragging downwards. “Don’t worry, honey, he won’t come.”
“You don’t believe that.”
Nope.
“Try to sleep, Robin,” she says. “I’m gonna call Jim, okay?”
He doesn’t answer. She goes, gets her phone out of her purse and tries to do exactly what she said she would, but Jim’s phone goes straight to voicemail.
Okay. Harvey, then…no.
No answer.
This might be a little bad. She knows, logically, that there’s plenty of cops who won’t hand the kid back over, but she doesn’t know who they are and she does know, because Harley had mentioned it not three weeks ago, that ‘Mistah J’s got ears all over this town!’
A side effect of watching people’s children sleep, she imagines.
Okay. She’ll try again in a little while. Everything’s fine. It’s Gotham, they’re busy. Maybe Batman’s there!
All the same, she triple-checks the windows, and the door, and kills all the lights before grabbing a water bottle and a box of Wheat Thins and going back in the bedroom. Robin’s not asleep. He’s still half-curled in the blankets, staring at the window with frightened eyes.
“No answer, but he’s probably busy.”
“Maybe.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “I hope so.”
“F’you want, I got these.” She holds up the water and the crackers and he shakes his head. “Try to sleep, hon, there’s probably just been a drugs bust or somethin’.”
“Don’t go.” His voice is barely audible over the hail. “Please. I’ll be quiet, I promise, just…”
“Shh.” She sits down on the other side of the bed. “This okay?”
“Yeah. T’anks.”
“Go to sleep, kiddo. It’ll be okay.”
He yawns and suddenly he’s moved and is now both burritoed in blankets and curled tightly against her side. She doesn’t know how that happened. She blinked, that’s all.
Whatever, it doesn’t matter. If it keeps him calm enough to sleep, he’s fine there. She turns her phone to vibrate and opens up the internet. This is fine. This is going to be fine.
Hopefully.
* * *
Robin doesn’t move from his blanket cocoon even after two hours. Hell, he doesn’t even move in the cocoon; just stays balled up with his head pressed against her side. Even asleep, he doesn’t look calm, not even close, but he does uncoil a little bit when she risks reaching down and pulling a few strands of hair away from his mouth.
Outside, the hail has only grown worse and she hopes the Joker is out in it, because it 
might hurt him and the mental image of a giant hailstone smacking him in the mouth is funny.
Neither Jim nor Harvey has called her back and she’s just about to try again when Robin suddenly starts coughing.
“Come on, kiddo, wake up.”
Shaking him makes him scrunch into a ball, arms over his head.
“Please—”
“Robin.” She gives him a little nudge. “Wake up, sweetheart, you gotta sit up.”
He eventually pulls himself up a little, arms falling to cradle his ribs.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She reaches over and picks up the water bottle, cracks the seal and winces when his eyes light up.
“S’safe?”
“Yeah, just water. You gonna try?”
“Uh-huh.” He takes it, clutches it to his chest and drains it in about forty seconds. “T’anks.”
“Sure. You hungry?”
He makes a face and mumbles, “No.”
“Okay. Try to go back to sleep, huh? You don’t look so good.”
He returns to his ball-shape, arms curled in front of his chest, and doesn’t move even when she re-tucks the comforter around him. She’s just about to text Jim instead when the phone lights up. There. All better.
“Hey, glad you got back to me.”
“What’s going on?”
“You need to send Batman to my apartment. I…I sort of nearly hit Robin with my car.”
“What?” There’s the sound of running feet in the background. “Where?”
“Not too far from Arkham. He’s…I didn’t hit him, anyway, but—”
“Shit.” A car door slamming. “Shit, Dove, you need to get outta there.”
“What’s going on?”
“I’m just leaving Arkham, the Joker’s God-knows-where, he murdered his way out not three hours ago.”
Well, shit.
Robin stretches out a teeny tiny bit and presses his head against her hip with a soft sigh. He’s not hearing this, then, he’s gonna calm down, he’s gonna sleep.
And that’s fine.
She ruffles his hair, still damp and warm and just covering a couple of contusions around his ears. Joker doesn’t know where she lives, she’s mostly sure, they’ve got a window before he tracks her down--
--but that flash of white, earlier.
Oh, my God.
He could be anywhere. Could be hitchhiking, could be on the roof, could not even care. He’s unpredictable enough that he might not care, but Dove doubts it.
“Get Batman here,” is all she says. “Door’s locked, windows are locked and we’re up high anyway. The kid’s hurt and he’s sick, I don’t even know if he can walk.”
“Hrm?”
“Shh.” She presses the phone to her shoulder. “Jim just wants to meet us at the precinct, you’re not up for that. That’s all.”
“Oh.” A yawn, a wet cough and a groan of pain. “T’anks.”
“Mm-hm. We’ll see you soon, okay, Jim?”
“But—”
She hangs up on him. Robin burrows under the blankets a little more and mumbles, “I didn’t think I’d ever…I don’t even know how long I was there.”
A month and a half since Batman shattered a window, dangled Cobblepot over Main Street and demanded information he didn’t have. If Robin was missing before that, Dove doesn’t know.
“Couple'a months.” Too long. “Do you remember how you got out?”
“Th-there was a doctor. He brought her down to look at me because I couldn’t. He’d.” He swallows and tries again. “I can’t scream without coughing, an’ ‘e wanted to fix me. Said I was boring like this.” That’s not surprising. “He kidnapped her or somethin’, I don’t know, but she had to lemme go to look at me better an’ I just headbutted her and ran for it an’ she’s prob’ly dead cause’a me an’—”
“Shh, shh, baby.” She’d be dead anyway, so she wouldn’t tell. “It’s not your fault, honey, it’s not your fault.”
 “Yes it is—”
“Robin.” She makes him lift his head and look at her. “It’s not your fault. Listen to me, okay? It’s not your fault. It’s not.”
Next thing she knows, she’s got an armful of shivering kid and he’s sobbing into her shirt.
“M’sorry, m’sorry—”
“Shh, shh, shh.” Um. This isn’t. This is bad, what is she supposed to say, what the hell. “It’s not your fault.”
“Mm—”
“Just try to calm down, okay? Breathe with me here, c’mon.”
That’s a little difficult, what with the coughing and all, but eventually he manages to calm down, at least a bit.
“M’sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, kid. Don’t. Okay? C’mon, just lie back down—”
He shakes his head and tightens his grip and whispers, “Please.”
She’s not heartless, okay? She tried, because good employees are heartless, but she’s shit at it and the only reason Penguin keeps her is because by the time he figured it out, she had his backup e-mail passwords.
“Okay. Okay, kiddo, okay.” She moves so she’s propped against the headboard and he’s not about to knock her over and pulls the comforter up to wrap around his shoulders. “Okay, honey, you’re okay. It’s over. It’s over.” Well, providing the Joker doesn’t come knocking on the door, but he doesn’t need to know that. “Just try to sleep, okay, Robin? It’s all over.”
“You promise?”
Uh, sure?
“Yeah, I promise.”
“’Kay.” He yawns. “Night.”
It takes him about fifteen minutes to finally conk out, but conk out he does, still shivering in the blanket. Dove kind of wants a sign to inform any rampaging Batmen that he put himself here, that she hasn’t hurt him, so please don’t fly in and kick her in the side of the head or anything.
Hopefully someone gets here soon.
* * *
She’s startled out of an accidental sleep by a knock on the door. Jim, must be Jim. Or Harvey. Whoever.
Another knock. Okay, okay, hang on.
She moves the kid so he’s half-propped on pillows to help him breathe and stands up, grimacing at the pop-pop! from her knees. Ow. Ow, she regrets her life choices.
“Hrm…?”
“Shh, I’ll be right back.”
But he’s already awake, eyes alert and locked on the direction of the front door.
“Who is it?”
“Probably Jim. I’ll be right back, okay? He can carry you if he really wants you at the precinct.”
“’Kay.”
More knocking. Good God, Jim, give her a…damned…minute?
Jim does not have green hair. Green hair like the hair visible through the peephole. Green hair on a white face.
Shit.
She’s not home, is her first instinct. She’s not home, she’s at work or on an errand or some other non-home activity. Robin? Who’s that? Ain’t that a bird?
She’s about to run with that, tiptoe back to her bedroom and barricade the door and hope to God that he’ll go away, when the knob rattles and he sings out, “Yoo-hoo! Anybody hoooome? I seem to have lost my dear pet bird!”
Okay. Okay. Maybe she can get him to go away. She’s…interacted with him, a few times, at the Iceberg, and he’s always been civil. Careful wording is her one great skill, and it might work now.
Or at least buy her some time. Better, she thinks, to try and get this to go her way rather than have him break in.
She fumbles around until she comes up with the butcher knife she keeps by the door for emergencies, triple-checks the chain latch, and cracks the door.
“Hello?”
People forget, sometimes, that the Joker is a tall man. He rivals Crane, easy, but while Crane is unassuming until he wants you to look at him, the Joker is impossible to ignore. Especially up close. That grin of his is cheerful from a distance, even just from behind a bar, but now? Now it’s manic and angry, a chimp’s smile.
“Helloooo!” But his voice is always cheerful…up until he’s mad. “My bel-ooo-ved songbird flew away from me this evening!” His hands are still in his pockets. That means nothing. Nasty things can be found in the Joker’s pockets. “Have you seen him? I’m soooo worried.”
She’ll bet. Batman’s going to be furious when he sees the state of the kid.
“I haven’t seen anything,” she says, fakes a yawn. “I just got home a little bit ago, went to bed.”
The teeth glint. An elbow twitches. And then he moves, upper body lunging forward like a snake’s and a hand jamming in between the crack of the door, fingers scrambling for the chain. She throws her weight against it, slams it against his arm, and he curses at her, those purple fingers abandoning the chain in favor of her neck.
She remembers the knife. It’s heavy and clumsy in her hand, but she slashes at him anyway, tip gouging a chunk of flesh out of the back of his hand before he yanks said hand back and the door slams shut. She throws the deadbolt and rushes to the kitchen, snags a dining chair and wedges it under the knob. Outside, there’s nothing but silence.
Door as secured as it can be, she grabs another chair and retreats to the bedroom, barricades that door too. Robin’s sitting up, hands twisted into knots in his lap.
“He’s here.” God, he’s so resigned already. “He came.”
She hates to scare him, but it was impossible to miss that ruckus.
“Yeah.”
He tries to get up and can’t, ends up desperately muffling his coughs in a pillow.
“I’ll go. Just. Just can I have s-some pills o-or something, I can’t do this again, I can’t—”
“Shh, shh.” It’s quiet out there. That can’t be good. “Don’t be silly, it’s gonna be fine. Batman’ll be here any minute.”
He’s silent after that, eyes glued to the door. Dove rifles through her dresser until she comes up with the pistol she always carries at work and sometimes carries the rest of the time, checks the bullet count. Fully loaded. Six shots. No more security deposit, but hey…
She doesn’t notice, at first, the movement outside. The hail is still pounding down, after all. But then there’s a rhythmic shave-and-a-hair-cut-two-bits! against the glass.
She’ll tell the police, later, that he had a tommy gun and looked like he was going to shoot through the glass. She has no idea if that’s true; all she can think of are all those people who laughed themselves literally to death, and that like hell is she gonna be one of them.
Six shots. The first two break the glass but don’t hit him, but the next four do, driving him backwards and--
--over. Down. Gone.
Not even one last cackle. Just a pair of fallen novelty teeth on the cement, getting knocked around by the hail.
Said hail is now trying to come in, and she wraps Robin in the comforter, guides him to the living room to lie down on the couch and locks her bedroom door, just in case. The kid’s staring at her when she comes back, shiny-eyed and a little awed.
“He’s gone?”
The fucker lives through everything.
“I think so, kid,” she says tiredly. “I think so.”
* * *
Nightwing’s the one that comes, at least at first. She’s surprised to see him; last she heard, he was over in Bludhaven, making a nuisance of himself.
“Nightwing.” God, it’s been so long since he did handstands on Penguin’s Very Expensive Barstools. He’s gotten so big. “Been a while, kid.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” He crouches down, hand half-reaching towards the kid in her arms. “Jesus Christ…”
“He’s sick,” she warns. “I think broken ribs, definitely broken ankle. Lotta cuts ‘n bruises.”
“Better than the alternative.” His fingers drop against Robin’s spine. “I thought…Little Wing? C’mon, buddy, wake up. Time to go home.”
Robin doesn’t stir other than to burrow deeper into the blanket and murmur something unintelligible. Nightwing doesn’t push, just lets his hand fall flat between the boy’s shoulders.
“Where was he?”
“I found him outside of Arkham. Nearly hit him, to be honest.” She gives him a little shake. “Wake up, sweetheart, Nightwing’s here to take you home.”
“Hrm…’Wing?”
Nightwing grins, relief clear on his face.
“Hey, brat. You awake?”
“Wh’re’s B?”
“On his way.” Sure enough, there’s a VROOM! a block or two over. “You ready to go home?”
“Sleepy.”
“I know. I’m gonna pick you up, please don’t bite me.”
“Once,” Robin grumbles, but he doesn’t protest when Nightwing hoists him up, arms tight, and cradles him against his chest.
“I gotcha, buddy, I gotcha…Thanks, Miss Marquis. For, um. Y’know. Everything.”
She stands up, feeling things snap and crackle.
“Take him home. And be safe, both of you. I mean it.”
“T’anks,” Robin squirms a bit, one hand falling towards the floor. She gives him a smile, stands up and cracks her spine.
“Feel better sweetheart.”
He nestles against Nightwing, and then they’re gone. Jim gets up there five minutes later, wide-eyed, and says, “Holy shit, Dove, what did you do? ”
Penguin does this all the time. She’s seen him do it. She shrugs, sinks back to the couch, and says, “He would’ve killed us both if I let him in. I thought he had a gun.”
Not that he needed one, as many an Arkham guard’s obituary can attest.
“Jesus Christ.”
Yeah. Jesus Christ, indeed.
THE END
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allzelemonz · 1 year
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Gaslight Hatter: Jervis Tetch X Gender Neutral Reader
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Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Historic Pronouns: None Mentioned *Reader is a cop and the first female cop in America would have just joined the force around this time so there’s no room for pronoun plot holes, use what you want Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Mentions of murder/serial murder, based on the comic not the movie, reader is a cop but a cool one I guess, Reader referred to as an Alice by Hatter, I hope you’ve read the book Summary: 1890s Gotham is facing a new threat after the demise of Jack the Ripper. A madman dressed as the beloved Hatter from a popular storybook who has a pension for playing dress up with the young adults of the city. As an officer working under Inspector Gordon, it’s your job to protect the people.
With rumors of a giant bat taking down Jack the Ripper crime in Gotham has been down. Playful characters like the Joker and more scary ones like Double Man have all been quiet. However, working with Inspector Gordon has made it clear that there will always be something unexpected. Rumors have been circulating that the Inspector is working with the Batman, but no one seems intent on acting on it with all of the threats that could come up. Particularly the newest one, a man dressed as a book character.
The Inspector introduced him as The Hatter, a man emulating the character of the same name from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel materials. The books had been published only a few decades ago and most people now have a deep love for them, but this man is clearly obsessed. He has kidnapped and murdered several blond citizens from the streets and dressed them up as the little girl Alice and other characters like the White Rabbit. Most of his victims have been young, around your age, those that would have grown up with the book read to them at bedtime.
His last victim was left by the docks, a young man with longer than average blond hair adorned with a blue bow and dressed in a yellow suit. As he was a grown up male Alice. Before that it was a man dressed in a waistcoat with hair burned and fried into white. Before that it was a young woman dressed as the Cheshire Cat. Every last one of them disappeared one night and reappeared a week later with an immaculately detailed costume. All of them seen as a failure on the part of Gotham’s police and its notorious Inspector Gordon.
So he assigns patrols to be doubled and warns against lawmen going after the Bat. Your patrol with your partner is one of many, a short shift in a poor part of town during the dead of night. He is nervous, evident by his fiddling with his belt buckle and the consistent glances over his shoulder.
“We’ll never find him if you keep doing that.” You mutter.
‘Then I will continue, I have no intention of running into that madman.”
“It’s our job.”
He looks at you like you’re crazy. “Our job is stopping muggers, not hysteric villains.”
A sound of a trash can hitting the ground makes your partner nearly jump out of his skin. His knuckles turn white as he grips his billy club and faces the alleyway that the noise came from. You hold an arm in front of him to calm him down. When you turn your head you see the figure that has him so spooked and draw your club as well, but the firearm on your other hip is tempting.
The figure disappears as it steps backwards into the shadows. Your partner pushes past you and runs down the alley, a sudden burst of bravery apparently taking over him. You follow, against your better judgment, but you can’t leave your partner chasing after shadows. They outpace you just enough to lose you around a corner and it forces you to make a guess as to which way they ran. By the time you catch up with them you find the Hatter standing above your unconscious partner.
He does look like the Hatter from the story in what he wears, but his stature is much different. He’s a handsome looking man with greasy hair hidden under his tall hat, a man you might mistake for a common beggar on the street. He holds a watch in his hand and sways it back and forth with a sneer on his face. It is only now that you recall the features of your partner, young and blond, a perfect Alice.
“No need for an extra Alice, deer. Run along, get out of here.”
“You’re under arrest.”
He chuckles. “No, no, no, I can’t. I have a show.”
He raises his hands above his head and widens his eyes. The sparkle in them could be wonder or craze. And his words, he rhymes.
“Let him go, get to your show.”
“There is no show without Alice!” He snaps, forgetting his rhyme. “I want him, I need him. I need an Alice” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear.
“Take me.” You offer.
He chuckles again. “You are no Alice! You are too mean to be Alice.”
“I’m sorry, let’s talk over tea.”
The offer tempts him, he looks at his watch and smiles. His eyes meet yours as soon as he looks away from the watch. “Your hair wants cutting.”
The look on his face seems to hint at something. A line. It’s a line from the book. It has to be. A story you’d heard many times, but the line is so specific it’s hard to find. You knit your eyebrows, mentally searching for it.
“You should learn not to make personal remarks.” You say once you land on it.
The Hatter smiles and looks at you expectantly. There’s more for you to say. You go through the scene in your head, thinking hard.
“It's very rude.” You finish, half questioning the sentence.
“Good! Very good!” He claps his hands in excitement. “You are Alice.”
“I am, Hatter. Now, please, let’s go.”
Your hand is held out to him and he smiles as he runs to you to take it. He’s giddy with excitement as he looks at you. An Alice, the Alice he’d been looking for. Better than the others and much more fun than any White Rabbit.
“We’ll have fun, won’t we, Alice?”
A grin spreads across his face and his grip on your hand tightens. You don’t notice until it’s too late, the watch in front of your eyes swaying back and forth. Your vision goes blurry, then dark. The Hatter picks you up and hoists you over his shoulder, leaving the other Alice behind.
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helpfandom · 7 months
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hi I was wondering if your still accepting request ? If you are what rules do you have I want make sure I don’t make you uncomfortable (do you accept romantic or just platonic what do you think of poly /team up)
Also would you write for the other tmnt franchise (2012 ,rottmnt , 2003 ) also I just wanted to say that I love your blog ! Hope your doing ok 💗
EEK! Absolutely! You are the first person to ask, I never thought about adding rules so that's my bad. I hope you're doing well too Anon \(≧▽≦)/
I have written for ROTTMNT as well, and 2012, although it wasn't the turtles I wrote for, which is likely what you were looking for.
I'll add a rule link in my Bio when this is posted so no worries! ^.^ I'll probably add all the stuff I will write for too...
Rules // Stuff that is important if you request.
No Smut // Smutty stuff. I just don't like writing it.
No real people. It's okay if it's a Live-action Character (Such as April O'Neil from TMNT 90's movies. Catwoman, Anne Hathaway version. Truman from the Truman show. Robotnik from the Sonic Movie.) But I don't like writing for REAL people, I don't see the appeal. It's only okay to write and read fanfiction, to analyze or to transform the person, even simp over (I recognize that some people do that) IF IT'S FICTIONAL.
If there is a team-up, they need to have interacted at least once (1), IN CANON for me to write them. For example, Leonardo (TMNT) and Karai (TMNT) is allowed. Harley Quinn and Joker is allowed, but Handsome Jack(Borderlands 2) and TK Baha (Borderlands 1) isn't allowed. Catwoman (Nolan Trilogy) and Joker (Nolan Trilogy) isn't allowed. My personal opinion on Team-up is that it provides a great exercise in studying the psychology of the characters.
Romantic/Platonic is allowed IF they haven't broken my moral code (Which is don't abuse those who cannot defend themselves. IE: NO pedophiles [such as Hisoka from HxH], No people who screw animals, no animal abuse, etc.)
Romantic is allowed, Don't think that just 'cause I mostly write Platonic, I wouldn't write Romantic. Sorry if I ever made it seem that way. (ノωヽ) I just prefer Platonic since I find it is a very underwhelming category in Yandere, and gives a good challenge in Psychology.
I almost explicitly write Yandere, for the Psychological aspect of it, but maybe if I really know the character I will write them as a Non-Yandere.
Something that y'all should know is that I LOVE psychology, and studying the psychology of characters, which is why I write fanfiction.
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The Best of the Worst: Five of Gaming’s Best-Written Villains
   Thanos. Darth Vader. The Joker. It’s no secret that a story is often defined by their antagonist - when thinking of memorable characters, a lot of the time, you’ll think of the bad guy. Good villains can make or break a story, and the best-written baddies are usually the ones that last in people’s memories. Of course, not all memorable villains need to have complex backstories and motivations - Bowser’s just been kidnapping Peach over and over for 37 years and he’s practically the face of video game villains. While there’s nothing wrong with such one-dimensional antagonists, there are plenty of more complex, engaging gaming villains as well. I’ve assembled a small list of them here; this is hardly a comprehensive list, but by the end you’ll see just how interesting these gaming bad guys can be.   Spoilers abound below!
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Handsome Jack (Borderlands 2)    “It’s cute that y’all think you’re the heroes of this little adventure, but you’re not. You’re bandits. You’re the bad guys, and I am the goddamn hero.”    You can’t discuss interesting video game villains without talking about the psychopathic CEO himself, Borderlands’ Handsome Jack. He’s among the most infamous gaming antagonists in the world, and for good reason; his charming and entertaining persona mixed with his horrifically twisted actions make him a classic “love to hate” kind of character. His popularity even led to being the focus of an entire prequel game detailing his backstory and plenty of references throughout the rest of the franchise and beyond.    While many villains tend to think their actions are justified and pretend they’re the “good guy”, Jack takes it a step further by being so deluded by his own incredible narcissism that he genuinely believes he’s the hero of Borderlands, and everyone in his way - including the actual protagonists, the playable Vault Hunters - are just filthy violent bandits. He thinks that summoning a godlike creature to commit mass genocide on a planetary scale is the heroic thing to do, and doesn’t think twice about imprisoning and enslaving his own daughter to further his goals!    All these abhorrent actions are done with a smile on his face and constant jokes and petty threats, as though the main characters are barely worth taking seriously. Case in point: one of his most famous monologues is about him laughing himself silly while scooping a man’s eyes out with a spoon, all while mocking the player and telling them to just “let the hero win already”. Nice guy!
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Flowey (UNDERTALE)    “Did you think you were the only one with that power? The power to reshape the world, purely by your own determination. The ability to play God! The ability to SAVE.”    If you had the power to quick-save and reload the real world like it was a video game, what would you do? Try to fix your mistakes and right wrongs, or wreak havoc before reloading and getting away with it without consequence? In UNDERTALE, the main antagonist Flowey shows just how terrifying it can be when a villain shares the same meta powers as the actual player.    He initially seems friendly and harmless - the first character you meet, and he’s just a happy little flower, right? Well, it’s not long before he proves to be the most dangerous and sociopathic character in the game. He’s aware of the player saving and reloading, and calls you out on certain choices like saving other characters you’ve killed - or going back to kill characters you previously spared. Eventually he gains the power to save over the player’s file, deliberately crashing the game and saving over your own death just to show how helpless you (and any other video game character) are in the face of such power.    Most of his backstory is only found in the game’s “evil” path, the Genocide Route, so to really learn about him you’ll need to prove that you’re even more twisted than he is…and he won’t let you forget about it in future playthroughs either. 
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Andrew Ryan (Bioshock)    “In the end, what separates a man from a slave? Money? Power? No, a man chooses…a slave obeys.”    “Would You Kindly” - a well-known phrase within the gaming community, one that accompanies a famous plot twist dropped by Andrew Ryan, one of the main antagonists of Bioshock. Throughout the game, the player is directed all over the fallen, violent city of Rapture by their “ally” Atlas, with no choice but to do exactly as he asks. This is pretty standard affair for linear story games, of course, but Bioshock gives this normally-ignored gaming rule a dark spin with just three simple words.    Andrew Ryan, the creator and leader of Rapture, reveals at the end of the game that the player’s character, Jack, is actually brainwashed to respond to the phrase “would you kindly”, a phrase that up until then had simply seemed to be a quirk of Atlas’ speech pattern. Future playthroughs are given a completely different feel after this reveal, now that the player knows Atlas is actually manipulating them for the entire game. I chose Andrew Ryan as the antagonist to write about here instead of Atlas because he’s still ultimately the reason behind most of the game’s conflict, and his final scene is one of the most harrowing moments in the series.    Shortly after revealing the player’s trigger phrase, he uses it against you - ordering you to run about his office in a cutscene, to really drive home how completely helpless you’ve actually been all game. After that, he even orders you to kill him! As the player whacks away at Ryan’s skull with his own golf club, it’s not so much a victory for the player as it is for Ryan, proving he was right all along: Jack, and in turn the player, is but a slave, with no choice but to obey. Keep that in mind next time you’re railroaded into following orders in any other story game…
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Alister Azimuth (Ratchet & Clank: A Crack in Time)    “You ask all these questions, ask yourself this: how relevant is the past when it can be changed? Your father would have said not very.”    When a heroic character turns bad, it’s usually because their motivations have changed. They decide the villain is right, they decide whatever they’re fighting for isn’t worth it, that sort of thing. This isn’t the case for General Alister Azimuth, however; for the entirety of Ratchet & Clank: A Crack in Time, Azimuth remains steadfast in his goals from start to finish, while it’s the main heroes Ratchet and Clank that change their minds.    Azimuth is initially a mentor figure to Ratchet, and blames himself for the exile of their species, the Lombaxes. He and Ratchet work together to find the Great Clock, a massive time-keeping device at the centre of the universe (give or take fifty feet), with Azimuth intending to reverse the mistakes of his past and bring back the Lombaxes - including Ratchet’s lost family. When Ratchet & Clank learn that the Great Clock is not a time machine, and that tampering with it will have catastrophic consequences, they decide against Azimuth’s plan. Unfortunately, Azimuth is so focused and single-minded on his goal that he ignores the duo’s warnings, and when they try to stop him he turns against them at the end of the game.    Azimuth is a very headstrong, reckless and aggressive character that believes he can brute-force his way through any issue - just like Ratchet was, before he met Clank all those years ago. Narrative foils often make for the most compelling villains! Ratchet likely would have ended up just like Azimuth had he not met Clank.
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Lothar Rendain (Battleborn)    “Don’t you see? We needn’t all perish! We can save something! What value is life that is already condemned? What are you fighting for?!”    Doing whatever it takes to survive isn’t exactly an uncommon motivation - it’s a pretty basic demand of living, after all. When it’s the end of the universe as we know it and you take honour out of the question, however, it can lead to some not-so-heroic decisions. Battleborn brings us to a universe dying at the hands of the Varelsi, inter-dimensional horrors eating every star in space, and introduces Lothar Rendain: a battle-hardened military commander that has his species’ survival at the top of his priorities. So, what does he do in the face of seemingly unavoidable death? Make a deal with it, even at the cost of everything and everyone else in the universe.   Rendain’s motivations are at least understandable - in his words, he’s “saving something instead of nothing”, and it may as well be his own people. It’s just a shame he goes about it in the most despicable fashion possible. He’s sided his forces with the Varelsi and turned on the rest of the surviving universe, aiding the Varelsi hordes in exchange for them ensuring his own species’ survival once the last light winks out. After thousands of years battling an apparently unstoppable foe, you’d probably be desperate to figure out a different solution too.   Personality-wise, he stands out as a darkly serious villain compared to the more chaotic and gung-ho heroes, almost as if he was pulled from a different story entirely. He avoids all the usual mistakes of being the “bad guy” too; he doesn’t needlessly kill any underlings that fail him, he takes any advantage he can get in a fight (like siccing a dozen gigantic bosses on the heroes at once instead of playing fair), and he even gives them chances to join forces with him in the interest of saving his own troop’s numbers. All in all, he’s a cunning antagonist with reasonable motivations, yet still so completely irredeemable and evil that finally defeating him at the end is just as cathartic for the player as it is for the heroes of the game themselves. 
   All this goes to show that all the interesting motives and engaging characterisations doesn’t always make for a nice person. There’s hundreds of fascinating and memorable villains out there, far too many to fit in a single article. If you have any suggestions of engaging evil-doers that fit this list, feel free to let me know! Thanks for reading!
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sapporo-division · 2 years
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—{ Sometimes the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see }—
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Iwao Masuda (a.k.a. TRIXT4R) is a famous street magician, Chuuoku’s spy, and the second member of Polar Knights
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TECHNICAL INFORMATION
Name: Iwao Masuda
Kanji: 増田 礒夫
Romanji: Masuda Iwao
MC Name: TRIXT4R
CHARACTER INFORMATION
Occupation: Street Magician
Birthday: April 4
Age: 24
Zodiac: Aries
Height: 185cm
Weight: 75 kg
Blood Type: B
FUN FACTS
Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous
Likes: magic, entertainment, card playing, his pets , children’s smiles
Hates: sweets, sad faces, shared his private life, obviously Honobono, other teams
Favorite Food: Kaisendon
Least Favorite Food: N/A
Color: Violet
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PROFILE
He is a street magician, went by the name The Suited Iwao and the usual spot he can be found on sidewalks or Sapporo’s Odori Park
He seems decent man but mostly weird who appears out of places, performing his magic tricks whenever people are troubled. He does travel around Japan and sometimes out of the country to do his magic show on public places while gaining ideas for his new tricks
Just like Sasara, he love to entertain people in order to bring smiles on the audience faces especially with children. He enjoys watching the smiles of others as a reminder of him in the past. Not only he likes to entertain others but to seek entertainment for himself from boredom
Meanwhile, he kept a secret from everyone (that includes his teammates) that he had a second job that would never reveal until time comes. He is, like Ramuda, Dice, and Rei, connected to Chuuoku as their temporary spy to keep an watchful eye on their members who are secretly against The Party of Words and reporting back and forth information of any events occur from outside.
Always put on a facade face just to make everyone comfortable but deep down, he would sometimes show his true colors of looking down on people who grasp for power & authority
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APPEARANCE
He is a handsome man in his twenties with yellow eyes and dark brown curlier hair that hangs over the left side of his face. He has four suits mark align horizontally under his left eye: (red) heart, (blue) spade, (yellow) diamond, and (green) club and also has a violet diamond-shaped mark over his right eye
He wears a violet bowler hat with 3 cards attached to the side: king, jack, and joker. He dressed in black shirt with folded sleeve to the elbow, double bowtie of red & black with a emerald jewel and yellow metal on each edges. His has a waistcoat with a tail and it’s checkered pattern with violet & black except from the back is fully black
He wore a chocolate brown tight pants while on his waist is maroon belt, black and white spectator shoes and two gloves that are fully white on the left and black-violet gloves on the right
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RAP ABILITY
Hocus Pocus (his ability allows him to create an illusions in order the opponent’s to lose their guard down while he made his counterattack)
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ETYMOLOGY
—> Iwao means “rock” (礒) (iwa/iso) and “husband, man” (夫) (o/otto)
—> Masuda means “increase” (増) (masu) and “rice field” (田) (da/ta)
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TRIVIA
He used to have a loving family but his father have left and got into divorced long time ago and from now on, he stayed with his mother, who’s been disappearing currently
He doesn’t mind Yuki calling him Merlin few times as this character turns out to be a magical wizard like Iwao but not really. Honestly he wouldn’t care much about Yuki’s fanatics and plays along
He has a soft side with children. On his days off, he’d visit preschools, hospital, orphanage to play with them and showing off his tricks
He has a lot of social media such as he usually use YouTube channel called PrpleSoot for vlogs, live, and magic trick guide videos
He owned twin mascot-like rabbits named Cherry & Berry as pets and needed them for his show. He calls both of them by short: CC (Cherry) and BB (Berry)
Cherry (CC) and Berry (BB)
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seasonofthewicth · 3 years
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Rowaelin Month - Day 3
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prompt: a secret relationship
extras: multiple povs
cw: one very brief mention of nsfw topics
word count: 3k
--
Fenrys knows his friends think of him as the joker of the group, and yeah he is hilarious, but there’s more to him than that. He can read the room, can pick up on the subtleties of whichever of his friends might need one of his jokes more than others on any given day. It’s a skill that makes him observant, watchful of people, and he notices things.
He’s not sure if Rowan and Aelin think they’re being subtle, and he’s not sure which of his other friends have picked up on the same things he has, but he’s pretty sure Aelin and Rowan are sleeping together.
He’s not completely sure, he doesn’t have any concrete evidence and they still act normally in the group, but he knows what he saw on the night of Elide’s birthday. He and Rowan have lived together for years and Aelin has crashed at theirs any number of times before but, until that night, she’d never emerged from Rowan’s bedroom the morning after wearing one of his t-shirts.
The material had completely drowned her. The short sleeves had hung to her elbows and the hem had been well down her thighs. She’d seemed somewhat… sneaky as she’d crept into their kitchen in search of coffee.
He knows not to read too much into things, friends share clothes all the time. He’s lost many hoodies to the collective wardrobe owned by their group of friends and he’s still pissed at Lorcan who he knows still has his The Cadre t-shirt from the gig they had attended a few years ago.
What Fenrys also knows is that friends don’t stand at the kitchen counter, holding the neckline of their friend’s shirt to their nose and grinning like an idiot.
He needs to speak to Aedion.
Elide has been friends with Aelin for years and that is more than long enough to know she’s almost always guaranteed to be late to their coffee dates. She’s not bothered, it gives her a few extra minutes to sip away at her own coffee reading her book with the general hum of the coffee shop lulling her into a comfortable rest.
It’s not long before her friend breezes into the coffee shop, the bell above the door ringing and signalling her entrance. It’s very Aelin, her entrance. The wind sweeps in fluffing her golden waves and her steps are full of purpose as she strides towards Elide.
“Sorry I’m late.” Aelin all but throws herself into the seat opposite Elide, smiling a bright smile for the relatively early morning they’re sharing.
“Don’t worry about it,” Elide says, finishing off her final swig of her first coffee. “Want me to go and get our drinks?”
“No, Ellie,” Aelin says, waving her hand. “First one’s on me. I was late, I’ll make it up to you.”
Aelin squeezes her hand before breezing back out of her seat.
She’s back only a couple of minutes later, finally relaxing into the large armchair she occupies. “So, what’s new with you?”
“Nothing much,” Elide shrugs. “Work is tough but nothing I didn’t expect.”
“I’m sure you’re smashing it,” Aelin says with a grin, then places her hand against her chest. “My little Elide, registered nurse taking the world by storm.”
Elide smiles, it feels good to hear those words, after all the sleepless nights and sweat and tears she’s finally where she wants to be.
Aelin continues, “You’re not pushing yourself too hard are you?”
“No,” she says and it’s the truth. “And even if I was, Lorcan is being wonderful.”
Aelin fake gags and Elide shoots her a mostly joking glare. “I find that hard to believe.”
“He is,” she says, thinking of the bath he had drawn her the night before and the massage he’d given her when she complained of her feet aching.
Aelin shifts in her seat as she nods along and the neck of her t-shirt slips down to reveal the ghost of a hickey on her friend’s collarbone. Elide raises an eyebrow.
Aelin looks down before grinning wickedly.
“Anything new with you?”
Aelin’s answer is interrupted by the arrival of their coffees in the hands of a handsome waiter.
“A large mocha,” he says and Elide raises a hand, “and a large cappuccino with cinnamon.”
Aelin raises her own hand. The waiter sets their drinks down, his eyes lingering on Aelin for a minute before he slowly backs away.
“Enjoy,” he says, his eyes still locked on Aelin. “Let me know if you need anything.”
He turns with a wink and Elide raises her other brow at her friend.
“Are you going to get his number?”
Aelin shakes her head. “Not today.”
Elide hums a response before leaning forward in her seat. “Why? You’d usually be all over someone like him, he’s exactly your type. Tall, muscular without being jacked, his curly brown hair, cheeky smile…”
She trails off when Aelin cracks a smile. “I guess I’m just not feeling it today.”
Elide wants to ask why again, she honestly might go over and get the guy’s number for her friend, when Aelin changes the subject rapidly.
“Are you going to Rowan and Fenrys’ later?”
Elide doesn’t process the change of topic until a little later on, once a couple more pieces have slotted into place. Eventually she’s pretty sure she’s worked out why Aelin didn’t want the cute coffee guy’s number.
She needs to speak to Lorcan.
Lorcan Salvaterre doesn’t like Aelin Galathynius.
He tolerates her at best for the sake of the rest of their friends but that said, he still probably wouldn’t want to see her hurt.
When Lysandra puts the message in the group chat-At the hospital with Aelin, dw they think it’s just a sprain-he reads it, absently thinks how he probably hopes she’s okay, and moves on with his day. He’s on his way to meet Rowan at the bar and if anything, Galathynius would want them to raise a toast in her honour.
What Lorcan doesn’t expect is the restless jittering of his best friend’s leg beneath the table, sloshing precious droplets of beer onto the table that his friend doesn’t even seem to notice.
“What’s the matter with you?” he asks as he slides onto his seat opposite the silver haired man.
“Nothing,” Rowan says quickly but his leg keeps up the restless pace.
Lorcan signals to the bartender for his own beer and turns back to Rowan. “Dude, chill out. There’s clearly something up with you and I’m not having you spill my pint.”
Rowan finally notices the state of their table and stills his leg. “Sorry,” Rowan says, using some of the beer mats scattered across their table to mop up the spill.
Now Lorcan really is confused. Usually Whitethorn would cuss him out over apologising. He doesn’t really know what to say.
His phone buzzes in his pocket and he ignores it as Rowan lurches for his own phone. He reads whatever’s on the screen then scowls and locks it again, placing it face up on the table. His knee begins bouncing again.
“You’re being weird,” Lorcan announces.
“Fuck off,” Rowan says and there’s the Whitethorn he knows and loves.
Lorcan opens his mouth to speak again but his phone buzzes and Rowan again lurches for his own. He chews at his lip as he reads whatever’s on the screen and so Lorcan bothers to dig his own phone out of his pocket.
It’s the group chat. He has a couple of unread messages, just Aedion and Elide expressing their concern for Galathynius as expected, nothing exciting. He locks his phone and places it on the table in front of him, watching Rowan for his next move. He’s definitely being weird and Lorcan has no fucking clue why.
His phone buzzes again and the screen lights up with the latest message. It’s Galathynius, he can tell from the stupid crown profile picture she has.
I’m alive, her message reads, just a sprain but I’m gutted bc I wanted a cast so you all could sign it.
Rowan is on his own phone when Lorcan looks back up, he’s tapping away but Lorcan doesn’t see any messages from him in the group chat. His knee has stilled under the table and Lorcan swears there’s something that looks like relief on his face. Relief? As if there was ever any danger of Galathynius not being fine.
Wait.
“Why the fuck are you so worried about Galathynius?”
Rowan’s eyes narrow and he carefully tucks his phone back into his pocket.
“I’m not,” he says but it sounds somewhat like a question and Lorcan isn’t convinced.
Until he decides he doesn’t give a shit enough to ask any more questions, Whitethorn seems back to normal and if Galathynius being fine is the reason for it he can think about it later.
And probably speak to Fenrys.
Aedion is drunk.
Like truly and utterly wasted.
So far a good night.
The rest of the group are somewhere dispersed around the bar but he’s happy here, tucked up in their booth, resting his head against the cushioned velvet while the room spins around him. He’s pretty sure Aelin is still in the booth with him and it might be Rowan with her but he’s too lazy to open his eyes to check.
He can hear the pounding base of a song he doesn’t recognise and he could fall asleep right here, somehow lulled to sleep by the beat and the volume of alcohol he’s consumed.
He doesn’t mean to listen to Aelin and Rowan’s conversation, even though he’s pretty sure it’s not intruding if they know he’s sat right there, but pieces of their conversation spike his attention.
“You don’t want me to stay at yours tonight?” he hears Aelin ask and Aedion is intrigued.
Lysandra is out tonight so Aelin has a safe ride home with her roommate and no need to crash at Rowan and Fenrys’ apartment.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to.” Rowan’s voice is low and hard to hear over the music. “But Fenrys is out with us and if I say I want to leave he’ll join me, then you know he’d ask questions.”
Aedion from tomorrow is screaming at him to pay attention to this conversation and so he keeps his eyes closed to try and listen in. He’s almost holding his breath to try and hear their voices over the noise of the bar.
They’re quiet for a moment and he’s so tempted to crack his eyes open.
“I know,” he finally hears Rowan say. “I’m sorry, Fireheart. We will.”
Hearing the term of endearment drop off Rowan’s lips is too much, it’s weird, he didn’t realise the two of them were close enough for Rowan to know about the nickname his cousin has. He risks opening one of his eyes to just a thin slit.
He’s not ready for what he sees.
Aelin is tucked under Rowan’s arm, resting her cheek on his chest. Rowan’s chin rests on the top of his cousin’s head before he softly presses his lips to her hair.
Aedion has many questions. He immediately closes his eye. He’s drunk, he can’t trust his eyes.
He hears rustling and then definitely his name from his cousin but it doesn’t sound like she’s talking to him.
Then, “Aedion.” Rowan’s voice has him blinking his eyes open and lifting his head from the booth.
They’re separated now, sitting with a couple of inches between them on the seat. Maybe he didn’t see them cuddled up a minute ago, he’s not sure.
“Drink this.” Rowan is holding out a glass of water, his tone leaving no room for protests.
“Hey,” he hears how slurred his voice is and catches Aelin’s laughter. “Thanks bro.”
Aelin puts her face in her hands. Rowan doesn’t crack, just waves the glass of water in front of him. He reaches out to grab it but he can see more than one of his hand reaching for the glass.
“Gods,” Aelin says, looking at Rowan. “Maybe you should take him home.”
“I will,” Rowan agrees quickly, looking at her softly and Aedion has about a million more questions. “I’ll get him to drink this first.”
Aelin nods and he finally manages to take a hold of the water and downs it in about a minute. Rowan slides out of the booth and holds a hand out to Aedion. He lets his friend tug him up and begins his stumble to the exit.
He feels Rowan pause behind him and catches the words, “meet you at yours afterwards.”
He manages to spin and see Aelin smiling as she leaves the booth too. He doesn’t bother to think about it, he probably won’t remember tomorrow.
He’ll ask Lysandra.
Aelin’s hand is clammy where she holds Rowan’s.
It’s the only sign of the nerves she feels, this conversation has been brewing for a while, and regardless of their friends’ reactions she’s happy with Rowan. Honestly, it’s only been about a month in total since that one night for Elide’s birthday that changed everything, but she thinks she might be falling for him.
She can’t believe she thought he was a dick when they first met. Well, she supposes he is a dick. One of the first things he ever said to her was that she was a spoiled brat but, in his defense, she’d just called him a stuck up bastard.
Now though she loves the thrill of his quick mind. Loves the way he can tease and taunt her until she’s trembling beneath him and about a second away from begging. She loves the soft kisses he presses to her hair when he knows she’s had a bad day, she loves when he comes back from work with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake under his arm because he knows it will make her smile.
What she doesn’t love is keeping this a secret from all of their best friends. It started out as embarrassment, after they slept together on Elide’s birthday she didn’t know what it was, didn’t know if they’d just fucked everything up, didn’t know if their friendships were about to implode.
But then it happened again, and again and again, until it’s four am and she’s pressing her lips to his one last time so she can sneak out without Fenrys noticing and be home before Lysandra wakes up.
The sneaking around was hot at first. His hand over her mouth holding in her whimpers as he fucked her on the couch he shares with Fenrys, when he slid the pillow between her bedframe and the wall when Lysandra had texted asking if she could hear that weird banging noise, all the times they had cut it a little too close. But now, it’s exhausting.
She wants to be able to hold Rowan’s hand and kiss him without the wariness pooling in her stomach and she knows he feels the same.
“Guys,” she says loudly to the room filled with their friends. Rowan squeezes her hand where they’re hidden beneath a couch pillow. “We have something to tell you all.”
Five pairs of eves pivot to her and she swallows.
“Rowan and I are… dating,” she says slowly, as though she’s unsure of how the words will go down.
There’s a beat of silence before their friends erupt.
“I knew it!”
“I fucking told you they were.”
“Pay up you bastard.”
Lorcan scowls, pulling out his wallet and Aelin blinks. She did not expect this.
“Wait.” Lorcan holds up a hand. “Before I hand over any cash we need details. Dating or in a relationship? How long have you been dating? Who asked who? Who started this? Most importantly; when?”
She looks to Rowan who’s green eyes reflect her own bewilderment.
“Um,” he starts unsurely, “we’re in a relationship.” He punctuates this with another squeeze of her hand and she grins. The feeling of his fingers linked through her own spreads warmth up her arm before settling in her chest. “It started a few weeks ago.”
Her friends are all leaning forwards, still waiting.
“When exactly?” Lysandra asks. “Like what was the date?”
“Well, the first time was the night of Elide’s birthday.”
Fenrys launches himself out of his seat. “I fucking told all of you.” He holds his right hand out starkly in front of him. “Pay up all of you, I was right.”
There are complaints and grumbled protests but Fenrys ends up with a handful of twenties and Elide a couple of notes herself.
“Wait,” Aelin says, brushing a hand across her forehead as if this will somehow clear it up. “You guys bet on us?”
That seems to still the commotion coming from the other side of the room.
It’s Aedion who speaks. “Yeah,” he says in a way that sounds like duh. “You didn’t think you were subtle did you?”
“Kind of,” Rowan says eventually, leaning forwards to brace his elbows on his knees. “We weren’t obvious. And none of you ever seemed to let on.”
“Bro, are you serious?” Aedion laughs as Elide and Lysandra snicker.
“You seriously thought we never knew?” Lysandra sounds as baffled as Aelin feels. “All those texts I sent when I knew he was over? All the mysterious unnamed hook-ups on nights you and Rowan both disappeared together? All the times you’d think you were subtle but your lipstick would be on his neck? We have been waiting for this.”
She’s laughing and Aelin feels a bubble of laughter in her own throat. She can’t believe it. It had seemed to reach a point of obviousness but none of them had ever commented.
“I can’t believe you all knew,” she cries burying her face in her hands as Rowan slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close. “Why did none of you say anything?”
“It was against the rules of the bet,” Fenrys says seriously and Rowan uses his other arm to dig his bicep, his laughter rumbling in his chest beneath her.
She smiles into the fabric of his shirt as the group erupts again, bickering over who knew first and who knew the most. Aelin doesn’t care, it’s gone better than she could have imagined and she has Rowan and her friends and she loves them.
A secret relationship no longer. It feels good.
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Teen Titans #29
So, one of my favorite types of fics to read is Different First Meeting fics between Jason and Tim. I looooove reading Enemies To Caretaker, of which I fed handsomely on fairly recently. Big Brother Jason fics give me warm fuzzies, and Tim Drake needs a hug, and I feel like if these two actually got to know each other and worked past their preconceptions, they’d get along surprisingly well. And Still A Jason!Robin Fanboy Tim Drake is just a fun concept. 
Also, it just FEELS right for the middle siblings to band together after Damian comes along, lets get those abandonment issues in the party. 
So, for mysterious and very secret TimKon Week 2021 reasons, I was rereading some Teen Titans, and I stumbled over the Original Tim+Jason First Meeting, and I just sort of wanted to talk about some interesting things I found in there rereading it after several years. 
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First thing right off the bat, when reading fics, normally it’s either the Core Four at the tower that Jason puts to sleep, or it’s Tim alone for the night. In the comic, none of Tim’s close friends are even at the tower, Jason waits for Bart and Cassie to leave, and Conner actually hasn’t come around for an in-universe month, because this is after the Superboy’s Birthright arc where Lex mind controls Conner. 
The people Jason knocks out were his own teammates when he was a Titan. He specifically says he never got to work with Beast Boy or Cyborg directly, so he doesn’t feel bad electrocuting them, but he feels bad putting Raven under much more gently because she used to worry for him. 
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Tim has just gotten off the phone with Bruce when Jason shows up. It seems like Bruce might’ve been picking Tim up, but something’s come up with Martian Manhunter going missing, so Tim tells him he’ll catch a ride with Cyborg. 
This is actually really interesting to me, because it’s a small moment of Bruce letting Tim down. It’s a conversation he’s probably had with his biological father many times when Jack’s canceled on him. 
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Gonna acknowledge this abomination real quick. This is So Stupid, and I’m glad as a fandom we just all agreed Jason didn’t do this. It makes me ask so many questions. Where did he get that oversized Robin costume? Why’d he tear off his perfectly good clothes? Why did he do this? Why the yellow tights? WHY? 
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A lot of things are actually happening here that are actually Really Interesting if you just look past the stupid fucking outfit. Because this comic actually flew really close to greatness, they just ended up dropping the ball by not continuing to do more with it. 
First off, Jason doesn’t beat around the bush. He’s immediately like “yeah, yeah, yeah, Red Hood, whatever, I’m Jason Todd, bitch! Fight me.” 
Secondly, Jason’s done his homework. He knows A LOT about Tim. He knows his name, he knows he has a dad, he knows he went to prep school, and he knows the story of how Tim became Robin. How he GOT that last bit of information, I’d honestly like to know. But even HAVING the information isn’t enough; he’s still letting his preconceived ideas get in the way. The surface level information about Tim’s life only served to fuel his jealousy and anger (thanks, Lazerus Pitt!). He’s so focused on Tim’s privilege that he’s looked past evidence of hardship; if he’s done this much research on Tim, he’s no doubt seen records of multiple boarding schools, lengthy travel records, news reports, a death certificate.... He can’t even bring himself to BELIEVE parts of Tim’s story that aren’t lining up with his world view, like HOW he became Robin. 
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Jason has convinced himself that what he’s discovered about Tim and the period of time when Jason was dead - the fact that Bruce was spiraling after his death, that his family mourned him, that Tim had to step up to the plate at a weird suicide prevention buddy system - is all a lie. Despite the fact that he’s beating Tim’s ass, he speaks to him with the assumption that Tim’s a child who’s been manipulated and lied to. 
Meanwhile, it must be SO PAINFUL for Tim to hear Jason say these things: I bet he said the same thing to you he said to me, didn’t he? That you have the talent to make a difference in Gotham. That he needed someone he could trust in his war on crime. That you were one of a kind. The light in his darkness.
Bruce never said any of that to Tim. Bruce rejected Tim, he didn’t want Tim, and begrudgingly accepted Tim. 
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Going back to Jason waiting for Tim’s other young teen friends to leave the tower before going in, only drugging his own former teammates, is much of his anger seems directed at THEM, not just Bruce. To Jason, it looks like they didn’t mourn him either, he has no statue. I find it interesting that he smashes Donna Troy’s statue, who died after him, and I believe she came back before he did. 
Unless he was keeping track of the news from the League of Assassins, to Jason, Donna never died. 
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And most importantly? Tim shuts Jason down. Tim “Bitch, Please” Drake out here like: you’re a fucking idiot, he loved you to death, he barely let me audition for the role. 
Tim shows some deep resentment towards Jason in this scene. I mean... earned, Jason literally came into his house and starting hitting him, but Tim’s relationship towards the Idea Of Jason has gone through a few changes. At first Jason was ROBIN! THE BOY WONDER! And if maybe Tim thought Bruce wasn’t AS happy with Jason as he was with Dick, there was still SOME hero worship early on. But it only takes Bruce and Alfred and Dick using Jason’s death as a cautionary tale a few times to get Tim to see Jason AS a cautionary tale - the kind of Robin NOT to be. But the more Tim craved Bruce’s paternal attention and approval, and the more Bruce withheld it or made Tim work for it, knowing that Bruce did that, in part, because of his love and grief for his dead son (Tim having an actual living breathing father plays a part, too), and those feelings towards Jason have started to fester.
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Jason can’t let it go, though, he thinks the concept of Robin was a mistake and had always been a mistake, and if he can hurt Tim, so can Scarecrow, Penguin, The Joker. 
This is a good time to bring up that one thing I think Jason probably doesn’t know is Tim is injured. It is a little over a month since since Conner shattered Tim’s right arm. Tim is still healing from a comminuted fracture in his forearm. And looking at this picture that is - ah, yes, that is the injured arm Jason is swinging Tim by. Tim is probably healed by now, the cast IS off and he’s a child, but bones don’t fully return to full strength for 3-6 months. 
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Jason is conflicted. This is clearly, in part, a fucked up way of “protecting” what he sees as a manipulated child, to convince him to leave Bruce. But there’s also clearly some deep, deep jealousy thrown into the mix to complicate matters and cloud his judgement. Ultimately, Jason isn’t there to kill Tim. Tim would be dead if he was. He’s there to “beat some sense into him,” and he ultimately fails, and fails badly. 
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Tim is found by the older Titans, awake by now, though it seems Jason knocked him out to, uh, fuck with the memorial chamber, and Tim... does not beat around the bush. No secret identities here just “yeah, Jason Todd beat the shit out of me.” 
And their reactions are HILARIOUS. 
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One more little sidebar, in the comic, Jason gets in with a D.N.A. check that never removed him from its permissions. Usually in fic this is a unique pass code. I’m not sure which version I like better, honestly. There’s something about Jason physically inputting a code that accepts him even though he’s supposedly dead that I really like, and just feels better than a dna scan. A dna scan sounds SAFER, sure, but there’s something about the Titans leaving in an honest SECURITY RISK out of sentiment that I like. 
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Lastly, I really like how it ends. Jason honestly thinks Tim IS a good Robin, and it seems like Jason’s done some research on the core four, mentioning Tim’s “real friends” again while the “camera” is on Conner and Cassie, suggesting that Jason KNOWS about them and possibly that targeting the tower while they were gone maybe wasn’t an accident or out of convenience, but fully intentional. And again, Jason’s real problem is highlighted: he feels alone, forgotten, unmemorable, no family, no friends. 
Thank you for coming to my TedTalk. 
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imaginary-wanderer · 3 years
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Last year, Martin Eden was released in France. At this time I didn’t know Luca so I only discover French reviews now and the very first one I found, from one of our biggest national (and most serious) media/newspapers, is just some kind of prose about him and his role lol Also a bit weird because it’s an Italian journalist who met Luca for the French media in Bologna... and it’s like a short movie in itself. The beginnning is just so cute!
It’s a bit long so there’ll be a cut. (also sorry if the translation is not perfect...)
Luca Marinelli, the transformist and inhabited actor of Martin Eden, star in Italy
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Beginning of autumn, in the center of Bologna. A handsome man comes hurtling on a bicycle. Screwed to the front wheel, a box carries something precious. He has the gestures of a seasoned craftsman, bends down to retrieve the cargo, grasps it with a firm hand: as soon as he’s out from the crate, Mino shakes himself in his master's arms. Luca Marinelli adopted the mutt on the set of Martin Eden, by Pietro Marcello, in Naples. Thanks to this adaptation of Jack London's novel, the 34-year-old actor has gleaned more than a canine: on September 7, the jury of the Venice Film Festival awarded him the prize for male interpretation for his stunning role of a sailor-writer, right under a clown’s nose (Joaquin Phoenix, Joker) and a cosmonaut’s (Brad Pitt, Ad Astra).
Out on the lagoon, the confidence with which he received his reward made the emotion barely visible, tinged with dread, that was his when he took the plunge. "In 2016, I cried at the sight of Bella e Perduta, Pietro's previous film," says Marinelli. The Roman seems to regain his sailor's dizziness: the ring he has in his right ear is trembling feverishly, his sandals dance the tarantella, on the ground. “I started to project an energy towards this director, I wanted to work with him. It turns out that London is, along with Stevenson, one of those adventurous writers that fascinate me… So when, a year and a half later, Pietro called me, I was in heaven. This experience moved me deeply."
A Daring Chameleon
The actor gives himself entirely, a whole year, to the project. Before filming, didn't he meditate in Oakland in front of the statue of the Californian author? “I was on vacation with my family. The sentences written on the monument moved me. This one, for example: "I shall not waste my days trying to prolong them””. Luca Marinelli devours the 300 pages of screenplay. With the same appetite, he swallowed up London’s story, until he no longer knew "where the book ends and the film begins".
By dint of interacting with the strange fauna with which Marcello surrounds himself, he tames the Neapolitan language, its eruptive musicality, its ashy fumaroles. For months, he hardened his body, from weight training sessions to boxing halls. Then suddenly ceases all effort, scribbles in gray his hair, his teeth, his skin: "You had to physically mark the cesura between the two parts of the film, which see Martin rise through literature, then let himself go.” One was shot when the fine weather arrived, the other when the first frost came: Marinelli, like a good chameleon, has tuned himself up with each season.
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ask-the-riders · 2 years
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Some stuff that I feel like they might consider calling each other:
There's a lot here, so ima put it under a cut XP
Retribution @ Death: boss/sir (both sarcastically), idiot
Famine @ Death: chief, D
War @ Death: old man, D, dad (usually sarcastic or playful), sir (also usually sarcastic or playful)
Pestilence @ Death: coffee bean, death by starbucks, starbucks, hipster death, boomer
Abrael @ Death: grave digger, grim, poker face, hashtag, scrooge
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Retribution @ Famine: big oaf, honey badger, daddy long legs, mi hombre hermoso (my handsome man), mi amor (my love), mi alma (my soul), cowboy, papi (no I will not be offering any context for these)
Death @ Famine: peanut gallery, hannibal lector
War @ Famine: big guy, hercules, hightower, weirdo, oddball, beanpole
Pestilence @ Famine: big guy, chuckles, snickers, amigo, lurch, lankenstein
Abrael @ Famine: smiley, terminator, chef, kitchen, roadblock, tank
-
Retribution @ Pestilence: rat bastard, damn rat, dumpster diver, garbage disposal, green heathen, parasite 1
Death @ Pestilence: garbage boy stink man, lord of the rats, rat lord, memelord
Famine @ Pestilence: doc, professor, brainiac, Einstein, genius, dr. strange, walking infection
War @ Pestilence: rat bastard, rat man, mister, idiot, dummy, perv/pervert, gremlin, nerd, morning glory, mister man, super soaker, loverboy, flash, gremlin 1 (again, I'm not gonna offer any context for some of these 👀)
Abrael @ Pestilence: bugger, minion, joker, bilge rat, his grossness
-
Famine @ War: squirt, little lady, fun sized, vertically challenged, munchkin, half pint, little buddy
Death @ War: angry bird, mamba, dynamite, spider girl
Retribution @ War: glitchy idiot, idiot, loudmouth, temper tantrum
Pestilence @ War: babe, beautiful, sweetheart, sweetness, lady love, hot chocolate, dynamite gal, cutie, hot stuff, gorgeous (basically every pet name that couples use)
Abrael @ War: glitchy, screaming dwarf, tnt, scarface, snapper, matchstick, wench
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Death @ Retribution: rogue, bigshot, slayer, little prince, supreme dark overlord of negative commerce
Famine @ Retribution: firefly, shortcake, moonbeam, starshine, itsy bitsy, moonlight
War @ Retribution: boss, bookworm, sir
Pestilence @ Retribution: edgelord, emotionally constipated weenie, weenie hut jr, hot topic, apple boy, cradle robber
-
Abrael @ Retribution: smalls, time bomb, tough guy, dracula, incredible sulk, thuglife, princock, royal hiney
Connie @ Retribution: brother
Literally everyone @ Connie: sunflower, sunshine, sunbeam
Retribution @ Connie: sister
Abrael @ Connie: angel, treasure, goldie, goody goody, looker, treasure trove, aphrodite, ducky, lass
Famine @ Connie: oracle, fortune teller
War @ Connie: mom (usually either sarcastic or playful)
Pestilence @ Connie: golden girl
-
Death @ Abrael: diva, chatterbox, comedy central, shark bait, lookout, sailor
Retribution @ Abrael: fucking drunk, amateur, pirate, parasite 2
Famine @ Abrael: peewee, tequila, pipsqueak, little shit, captain morgan, jack daniels
War @ Abrael: shit for brains, loser, weirdo, idiot, gremlin 2
Pestilence @ Abrael: missy, tipsy, cap, houdini, suck up, captain morgan, jack daniels (he stole the ideas from Famine, and probably also refers to Abrael as different alcohol types/brands)
Connie @ Abrael: abby, captain/cap'n, dubloon, sparrow, sailor (She usually just calls everyone by name)
-
BONUS
Death @ Othni: the demon
Retribution @ Othni: bitch, cat boy bitch, asshole, roach/cockroach, idiot, bastard
Famine @ Othni: the demon (can't be bothered to remember his name)
War @ Othni: shithead, bitch, idiot, stupid, creep, stalker, moron, bastard, jerk, jackass, freak
Pestilence @ Othni: the demon, hole in one, puss (in boots)
Abrael @ Othni: the demon, the horror show
Connie @ Othni: the demon, Othni
---
Some of these might sound kinda mean/harsh, but sometimes it kinda depends on the context of the situation. For example, if War called Abrael "shit for brains" when they were being aggravating (in a bad way), that'd be mean. If she called them that when they're simply joking around and being a dork, and she kept her tone of voice light, then it'd be more playful instead
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sunriserose1023 · 3 years
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One Last Job [Eight]
WORD COUNT: 1677 WARNINGS: Police proceedings, questioning, angst, suspense CHAPTER SUMMARY: Bucky and Steve observe your stalker as he’s questioned by the police, but the information isn’t what anyone expected.
Masterlist
PREVIOUS: CHAPTER SEVEN
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Bucky slid his phone in his pocket, stepping up beside Steve, one eyebrow raising. 
“That’s him?”
Steve nodded. 
“Calls himself Drax the Destroyer. Real name Arthur Douglas. He’s a textbook nutjob.”
Bucky slowly nodded, studying the heavily tattooed, extremely muscular man behind the two-way mirror before them. 
“Why is his skin gray?” “Beats me.” “Is it on purpose?”
Steve shrugged, a smile on his face. Bucky shook his head again, then nodded towards the mirror.
“He confess anything?”
Steve shook his head. 
“He’s definitely obsessed with Y/N. Loses his shit whenever her name is even mentioned.” “But he’s the one that …?“ “Haven’t gotten a confession yet, but he did agree to a DNA test. If it’s a match to what they tested off her sheets …”
Bucky blew out a breath. Steve nodded, lifting a hand to grip Bucky’s shoulder. The door opened and a tall man stepped into the room with them, a smile on his handsome face. 
“My guys.”
Bucky smiled as he held out a hand, laughing when the man hit his hand away and wrapped him in a hug. Steve hugged him next, then gripped his shoulder. 
“How you been, Sam?” “Ah, can’t complain. You?”
Steve lifted a shoulder. Bucky nodded towards the mirror and Sam sighed. 
“All business, ain’t he?”
Steve nodded, and Sam smiled before he turned to look through the mirror, arms crossing over his chest, Steve and Bucky unconsciously copying the movement. Sam lowered his chin and studied the man behind the mirror as he spoke.
“We haven’t been able to get him to confess to anything. Guys ... I hate it, but he’s going to get an insanity plea. Dude’s all over the place.”
Bucky shook his head. 
“So he’s lucid enough to send her fucking flowers and hack her assistant’s laptop and jack off in her goddamn bed, but he’s too crazy to know what he did was wrong?”
Sam sighed. 
“Buck, I —“ “Just let me in there for ten minutes.” “You know it’s not going to work like that.”
Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out two earpieces. He slid one into his own ear, handed the other to Steve. Steve put the piece in his ear and Sam nodded. 
“You guys stay here, where you can see and hear everything. If you think of anything that might help, Steve can say it and I’ll hear it, use it to see if I can get anything out of him.”
Bucky nodded, and Sam motioned towards the door before he walked that way. Bucky huffed out a breath, pulling his phone from his pocket, seeing the text message on the screen. 
Everything okay?
He couldn’t help the smile, typing back a response. 
Fine. How’s the shoot? Boring as hell. I’m sick of this trailer. 
Bucky gave a soft laugh. 
Not to mention Clint’s about to drive me bananas.
You even included the banana emoji, and Bucky shook his head. 
Humor him, Princess. We’ll wrap up here and meet you for dinner before we head back. What if you made good on that San Diego hotel room you promised me?
“Buck, you ready?”
Bucky swallowed, then nodded. 
I’ll think about it. Play your cards right.  Always, tough guy.
Bucky slid his phone back into his pocket, stepping closer to the mirror. 
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Steve had his head down, fingers rubbing his eyes. Bucky had his hands laced together on top of his head as he slowly paced around the room. 
“This asshole is certifiable, Steve.” “Sam’s asked him the same question for the past twenty minutes and we still haven’t gotten an answer.”
Bucky blew out a breath, shaking his head. 
“How the fuck was he able to do half the shit he did? You’re trying to tell me this joker hacked Wanda’s iPad?”
Steve shook his head. 
“It’s not adding up.”
Bucky glanced back towards the mirror. 
“Vancouver.” “What?” “Tell Sam to ask him about Vancouver.”
Steve murmured, and Sam nodded. When Sam had a chance to speak, Bucky and Steve stepped closer to the mirror. 
“Tell me about Vancouver.”
A confused look came over Drax’s face. 
“Vancouver? The Canadian city?” “Yes. Have you been recently?” “No, I do not trust airplanes.”
Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance, and Bucky shook his head. Steve spoke softly again, giving Sam a little more information. 
“The driver Y/N always uses was killed in a car bomb a few months back when Y/N filmed up there.”
Sam nodded again. 
“Y/N went to Vancouver a few months back. Did you know that?” “Yes, of course. Her assistant had the trip on Y/N’s calendar.” “And what did you do while Y/N was gone?”
Drax sighed. 
“I missed her. She always takes these trips and she never thinks about the people she leaves behind. What am I supposed to do if something happens to her?”
Bucky went still, staring at the mirror as Sam went on. 
“So you didn’t go to Vancouver to see her?” “No, I do not trust airplanes.” “Do you have any friends or family members in Vancouver?” “I do not have anyone except for Y/N.”
Steve looked to Bucky and shook his head. 
“He doesn’t know.” “He has to.”
Steve shook his head. 
“Buck, I … I don’t think this guy planted that bomb.” “He had to. He’s clearly her stalker, Steve. He had to have planted that bomb.”
Steve shook his head again as he looked to the mirror. He swallowed, then spoke again. 
“Sam, ask him directly about the bomb.”
Sam nodded, shifting the papers on the table, then looking to the man across from him. 
“Drax, you got to be honest with me, man.” “I have told you nothing but the truth, officer of the law.”
Bucky rolled his eyes, lifting his head as Sam went on. 
“Drax, tell me about the car bomb.”
Bucky watched the man straighten, saw the fear come over his face. 
“Bomb? There was a bomb? Was Y/N hurt?” “Stay calm, Drax. Just talk to me, man.” “Someone tried to hurt my Y/N? They tried to kill her with a car bomb?!”
Bucky stared at the man who screamed your name again and again as he jumped from the table, as officers flooded the room to try and calm him down. Steve had a hand over his mouth when he turned to face Bucky, voice low. 
“He didn’t do it.”
Bucky slowly nodded as he walked forward, staring through the mirror at the man screaming and fighting everyone who tried to get near him. 
“I can guarantee he was the one stalking her, but he … he didn’t try to kill her.” “So what, there … there’s someone else?” “Which means she’s still in danger.”
Bucky slowly lifted his eyes to Steve’s, holding there before he turned and ran from the room. 
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You had your chin propped on your hand as you studied your face in the mirror. You’d taken a few pictures for the magazine cover shoot, and you were waiting for them to come and get you to finish up. Clint was with you, since Bucky and Steve had gone to question your stalker. 
You still couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that it was over. You sat back in your chair, hanging your head and closing your eyes. Your phone started to ring, and you grabbed it without looking to see who was calling. 
“Hello?” “Y/N, where are you?” “I’m in my trailer, Buck. What’s wrong?” “Where’s Clint?”
You felt a tickle at the back of your neck, shaking your head. 
“What’s wrong?” “Where is he, Y/N?” “I—I don’t … I had to change clothes. He was waiting outside.” “Fuck. Do not leave your trailer. I knew I shouldn’t have left you.” “Bucky, you’re scaring me.”
He gave an exasperated exhale, and you jumped when you heard a horn honk. 
“Are you driving? Jesus, Bucky, calm down.” “Don’t worry about me. Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary? Anything at all?” “No, not until right now. You’re scaring the hell out of me.”
Bucky laid on the horn, making you jump again, and you stood up, shaking your head. 
“Please don’t get in a wreck and die on your way to me.” “Promise me you won’t leave your trailer until I get there.” “I promise, James. I swear.”
You took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly, wrinkling your nose. 
“What is that?” “What did you say?”
You shook your head. 
“Nothing. It’s just …”
You gave a quiet cough, and Bucky’s voice was in your ear. 
“Y/N, talk to me. What’s wrong?” “Nothing, I just … I’m lightheaded.” “Why?” “I don’t know. It happened all of a sudden.” “Do you see anything? Smell anything?”
You nodded, your head feeling heavy on your shoulders. 
“Al … almonds. I smell almonds.” “Shit. Get out of there. Y/N, do you hear me? Get out of your trailer right now.”
You nodded, stumbling as you made your way to the door. You turned the knob, but nothing happened. You did it again, coughing harder as you shook your head. 
“I can’t. Bucky, I can’t … the door.” “What?” “The door … it’s lo … locked.” “Fuck. Baby, hang on. I’m almost there.”
You coughed again, this time until you were gagging. Bucky was cursing in your ear, laying on the horn. You stumbled, missing the chair you tried to grab, falling to the floor and dropping your phone. You could breathe a little easier down there, and you crawled to a vent, exhaling when the air conditioning turned on. 
It was then that you heard the commotion at the door, heard Clint’s voice screaming your name. You turned your head that way, but your eyes were just too heavy to keep open. You faintly heard a pop, then a crash, but you fell into the darkness before you could do anything.
NEXT: CHAPTER NINE
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TAGS:  @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​, @captain-rogers-beard​, @i-have-no-life-charlie​, @jillybeaner13​, @notyourtypicalrose​, @sea040561​, @fallenoutofrose​, @geeksareunique​​, @distractedgemini​​, @buckybarneshairpullingkink​​, @isaxhorror​, @scentedsongrebel​​, @paige-sais-rawr​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​, @absolukeyrh​​, @elatedmarvel​​, @shadowsof-thenight​​, @sarcasm-myfriend​​, @our-marvel-universe​​, @shinycupcakebaker​​, @victoriavickens​​, @not-another-fangirl, @ellaenchanted91
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sweet-sammy-kisses · 3 years
Text
Monsters of Past
2
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For my @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt take me instead.  Fandom: Batman Characters: Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Cassandra Cain, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, and OC Rating: M Warnings: Past rape/non-con, rape/non-con elements, Tim Drake has bad parents (they are the worst) Lots of protective Jason, Cass and Dick Summary: "That is what I was trying to protect you from Damian." Tim's voice was hollow. "You talk about your birthright as Bruce's blood son, that you want everything you deem yours handed to you on a silver platter without knowing that there is a price you are going to pay. Do you know how many there are who would love to have the Crown Prince of Gotham's blood son in their power? Forced to do whatever they want to seal the deal? They are the monster waiting in the shadows knowing their money and power will protect them. I was trying to protect you, Damian.
"To protect Damian Tim gives himself to a monster of his past. Word Count: 2,901 You can also read it on AO3
"Enough is enough. Today is the day that I take my birthright back from Drake." Damian had waited long enough for his father to dismiss the unwanted one, he had already been removed as Robin as one of them now it was time to remove him from his position as CEO - it was his birthright and that Drake was still in his place filled Damian with rage - and once and for all show Drake he wasn't wanted nor needed and it was time for him to move on, far away from them.
Damian had overheard a conversation between Drake and Tam before Drake discovered and destroyed the bugs Damian had planted in the CEO's office the last time he had been there reminding Drake that he was nothing but a temporary replacement until father took back what was his or passed it onto him as it is his birthright.
Tam had brought up the owner of a company that they needed to work with but the CEO was holding out until Tim agreed to a private meeting with him.
"We can't keep putting this meeting off. The board members are beginning to ask questions as to why you don't want to meet with Aiden Tyler."
"I know. His company is doing some good but Aiden Tyler is an ass."
"Tim!"
"I'm sorry but I have dealt with that man in the past and he is a real scumbag and if we didn't need his product I would tell him to go to hell. Call and see if you can make an appointment with him sometime next week."
Damian knew that was his chance to prove he was worthy to take over now, despite his age.
+******+
Aiden Tyler quickly agreed to meet with Damian and the youngest Wayne couldn't help but preen with pride.
"That will show Drake." He will secure the deal and prove once again how worthless Drake is then maybe they could finally be rid of him.
Dressed in his finest of suits Damian arrived at the five-star restaurant where he walked in and owned the place like the Prince he is. "I am meeting Aiden Tyler, take me to him." He demanded.
The host quickly did as ordered and Damian couldn't help but smirk the man knew not to mess with a Wayne.
Led to a booth in the back a handsome man with deep brown hair with streaks of silver the man was fit for nearing his fifties. Dark eyes met his and Damian refused to shiver as they roamed over him with something in them that made him uncomfortable.
"Mr. Tyler, I am Damian Wayne, I am thankful that you could work me into your schedule." Damian greeted him.
Aiden's lips curled up into a smile, "Please call me Aiden and when it comes to Wayne Enterprise I am always willing to make room. I'm sure that we can work out a partnership that is agreeable to both parties."
There was something about the way the man spoke that reminded Damian of a predator stalking its prey. 'Well, Mister Tyler you will learn that Damian Wayne-Al Ghul is no one's prey.' "I hope that as well."
"Well isn't this nice but if you want to do business with Wayne Enterprise you need to talk to me."
"What are you doing here Drake?" Damian hissed out, he couldn't believe that Drake had the nerve to show up here and ruin his chance to prove to his father he was ready.
Thankful for all the train Bruce had given them Tim was able to hide his feelings behind a cool mask as he was forced to face someone he hoped he would never see again unless it was behind jail bars. "I am doing my job, Damian. Now, why don't you run along and leave this to the grown-ups." Tim ordered not suggested.
Damian bristled much like Alfred the cat and he looked ready to spew his usual vile insults towards Tim but right now he didn't care, he needed Damian far away and somewhere safe.
"If you leave now I will not inform Bruce of you trying to endanger Wayne Enterprise's." Tim held up a hand as Damian went to speak, "As you would know because of your age any agreement you reached with Mister Tyler would not be binding. So in order for this partnership to be legal, it is me that must make the deals. Now head home Damian." Tim ordered.
A low growl escaped Damian he hated to admit that Drake had a point, after all, he was not of age to make any partnership legal which is why he had planned on creating the agreement than bringing his father in to show him he was capable. Now he couldn't for that surely end with his father agreeing with Drake. "This is far from over," Damian warned before storming out.
"Such a shame, I was looking forward to seeing what young Mister Wayne had to offer me." Aiden's voice was like nails on a chalk board and all Tim wanted to do was run far away but it was too late for if he did nothing the man would go after Damian again.
'You can do this Tim. You have faced the likes of the Joker and Ra. You can face him.' Tim repeated to himself as he forced the smile back on his face, "I'm sorry but you will have to settle with me."
Aiden's smile turned wicked, "We both know that I won't be settling for you, Tim. Come sit, let us catch up before we get down to business."
Having little choice Tim slipped into the booth.
Tim could feel the vile beginning to build up in the back of his throat as Aiden's hand slid up his thigh. He did his best not to shudder as unwanted memories flooded his mind.
Moving closer Aiden removed any space between the two of them, "I still hope that you cry as pretty as you use to do." Aiden whispered in Tim's ear. "I am going to have so much fun breaking you all over again. It was so sweet of you to offer to take your little brother's place."
Tim wondered if it was wrong that he wished for an Arkham outbreak at that very moment. "As long as you leave Damian alone you can have me instead."
"Agreed." Never had such a word sent pure terror flowing through Tim's body.
+******+
"Father! I demand that you talk to Drake!" Damian growled as he slammed the door to the manor open.
Bruce could feel a headache building, he wished that his two youngest sons could get along. "What now?"
"I had a meeting with Aiden Tyler, one that Drake has been putting off for a month, since he wasn't in a hurry to seal the deal I took it onto myself to see it through."
Cass appeared out of nowhere, her expression hard, "Did you leave Tim with him?" She shocked everyone with her growl.
Damian blinked at Cassandra, taken back by the rage burning in her eyes. "Yes."
Horror filled Cass' eyes before she was moving. Bouncing to his feet Dick followed after his sister, "Cass, what is going on?"
"Tyler hurt little brother in past and is hurting him now." Was all that Cass offered before she was gone, leaving their very confused family behind.
"Yeah, that doesn't sound too good, someone gets Babs on the line and have her find out everything she can about this Aiden Tyler," Jason suggested. Something was bugging him, he had heard that name before and the fact that it made him want to reach for his guns wasn't a good sign.
Worry shone in Dick's blue eyes, "Do you think Timmy might be in danger?" His and Tim's relationship hadn't been the same since he didn't believe Tim that Bruce was alive and caused him to lose his standing in the hero community, he kept meaning to fix it but he kept pushing it off and now his baby brother might be in trouble and he might turn away his offer of comfort.
"I do," Jason growled out.
+******+
At Alfred's suggestion, they had moved down to the cave to do a background check on Aiden Tyler and discovering that Tyler Holdings had a history of deals with Jack and Janet Drake made Jason even more on edge.
He stepped over the edge when Cass returned a protective and murderous aura pouring off of her and a long line of hickies on Tim's neck arrived. Cass was curled around Tim, looking like a mama bear ready to take down anyone who proved a threat to her cub, her sharp glare had everyone on edge.  
A gasp of horror escaped Dick, "Timmy."
Jason knew what those marks meant, he had worn his own when he was living on the streets.
Bruce looked like he was going to be sick, his parents and then Alfred had shielded him from the lengths some would go to get more money.
Though Damian had been raised as an Al Ghul his mother had made sure he would never have to lower himself to serve others so he had no clue as to what powder keg he was about to set off. "What is the meaning of this Drake? You were supposed to be sealing a deal not lowering yourself to be a common whore." Damian snarled at Tim.
"Damian! Enough!"
Shock filled Damian's face as he found himself taking a step back at the anger in Dick's voice, his Batman had never spoken to him like that and he didn't know why Richard chose know to speak up. "Why are you defending him now Richard? I am only speaking the truth as I have before, Drake has proven himself to be nothing but a whore unfit to wear the Wayne name."
"I'm only the whore to spare you from becoming one." Tim's voice was soft but it echoed through the cave.
Damian could only blink at Drake before scoffing at him, "I would never lower myself as something so disgraceful. You make no sense."
The fire burned in Tim's dull eyes, "There was a reason that I kept putting off meeting with Tyler. I was waiting until I was sure that Bruce, Dick or Jason could be there with me. The bastard wouldn't try anything with one of them there. He just likes them young and pretty."
"What are you saying, Timmy?" Dick didn't know if he wanted to know the answer.
"You think that this is the first time that I had to give myself over for a business deal?" The laugh that escaped Tim was bitter. "I have been doing this for years. I was a prize that my parents dangled before anyone they could. Now that I am CEO of Wayne Enterprise I am an even bigger prize."
Jason's eyes were glowing green as he realized what his baby bird was saying.
Dick looked like he was going to murder someone.
Bruce looked horrified.
And Damian... Damian looked baffled.
"That is what I was trying to protect you from Damian." Tim's voice was hollow. "You talk about your birthright as Bruce's blood son, that you want everything you deem yours handed to you on a silver platter without knowing that there is a price you are going to pay. Do you know how many there are who would love to have the Crown Prince of Gotham's blood son in their power? Forced to do whatever they want to seal the deal? They are the monster waiting in the shadows knowing their money and power will protect them. I was trying to protect you, Damian."
To no one's surprise, Jason took a protective stance in front of Tim, there were few things he hated more than child rapist, the main one being the Joker, and to hear that his little brother had been forced to entertain monsters like that had him tasting the pit in the back of his mouth and he wanted nothing more than to hunt all those bastards down but that would come later right now all that matters is Tim. "Cass, take Tim upstairs and call those friends of his. He needs to be with people who will love and support him."
It was telling how awful that Tim was feeling as he didn't put up any protest as he allowed Cass to lead him out of the cave, he stopped only once to look at Damian, "You might not believe this but I do love you Damian and there was no way that I was going to let my little brother be forced to do something like that, not if I could protect him in ways that no one protected me."
Bruce collapsed into the chair as he buried his face in his hands. Dick would have offered him comfort but his legs gave out beneath him.
A dangerous growl escaped Jason as he flew a fist at the punching bag, he didn't care what Bruce said tonight he was going hunting.
"I didn't know." A shaken Damian whispered, he thought that Drake hated him just like he hates him but to know what Drake protected him from made his world spin. His mother had drilled into him that Timothy Drake was his enemy and the only way to take his place in his father's family was to get rid of him. "This makes no sense. Why would Drake do that for me?"
"Because you are his little brother and he was trying to keep you safe," Dick answered him with a sad smile on his face. Tim had protected Damian but they failed in keeping him safe. "There has to be a way to fix this." Dick just didn't know how to start.
A strong hand landed on his shoulder lifting his head Dick found himself staring into Bruce's grim face, "We messed up B."
"I know." Bruce felt guilt building up in him, he is Tim's father it is his duty to keep him safe. "All we can do is be there for him. Jason is right though Tim needs his friends here. We need to show him that we love him and are here for him."
No one noticed when Jason slipped away from them he had a monster to hunt.
+*****+
Kitchen
Jason stalked towards the door with purpose in his step.
"Master Jason."
Halting in mid-step Jason clenched his fists at his sides, "I cherish you Alfred but not even you can stop me from doing this." Jason warned.
"I don't intend to Master Jason," That had Jason whirling around to look at Alfred, the man looked calm but Jason could see the storm brewing in his eyes, "I would just like to inform you that Aiden Tyler will be attending a party tonight and from his habits, he will not arrive at home until around 2 am, which at such time the Sirens have promised to keep the rest of the Bats busy," Alfred informed Jason. No one hurt one of his grandchildren.
A wicked grin appeared on Jason's face, "This is why you are the best Alfred."
"Indeed. Now I need to prepare snacks for Master Tim's guests. Do be sure to return tonight and I shall have your favourite cookies waiting for you." Alfred gave Jason a soft smile.
"You rule Alfred." Jason would come back for Alfred and look after Tim.
+*****+
With Tim curled up in a puppy pile with Bart, Connor, Cassie and Cass watching Star Wars. The Sirens leading Batman, Nightwing and Robin on a chase throughout Gotham the Red Hood was free to deal with business.
Aiden was riding a high he had sealed a deal with Wayne Enterprise that was sure to make him an even wealthier man and his favourite toy returned to him. Nothing could bring him down.
That was until he felt the cold metal of the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead. A red helmet followed and Aiden felt a sense of fear.
The Red Hood was in his home.
"Whoever sent you I am sure that I can pay you double what they offered you."
"I am a Crime Lord I don't need your money and no one sent me. See I have issues with people like you who target children and think because you have the money and power that you are above the law. But you aren't above me. I am here to ensure that no other child is gifted to you."
Aiden had been so focused on the gun at his head he never noticed the second one aimed at his groin until it was too late.
Beneath his helmet, Jason grinned as Aiden screamed in pain on the floor, blood pooling around him.
+*****+
"Is he dealt with?" Dick asked.
Jason grinned at his older brother, "He will never hurt baby bird again."
While Dick wished he had been the one to deal with that bastard he needed to keep Bruce busy, still that didn't mean he wouldn't ruin him in other ways. Someone had sent Clark a copy of everything Babs had dug up on Aiden. He would see that monster ruined, without money and his power stripped from him, until he was as helpless as he made Tim feel.
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sideburndanny · 3 years
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Batman Movie Villains Ranked from Worst to Best
Recently, a YouTuber I follow by the name of Mr. Rogues released a list of Batman villains ranked from worst to best. I have nothing but the utmost of respect for Mr. Rogues as a content creator, but I took issue with his list because his long-standing biases were often the deciding factor in many of his rankings. So, I decided to do a list of my own.
I’ll be going over every Batman villain to appear in the movies, briefly analyzing their portrayals and ranking them on a scale of 1 to 5. To prevent the list from being too cluttered, I’ll be separating the villains by which movie series they’re part of. Here we go!
Burton/Schumacher Tetralogy
Bane: Perhaps the only villain in this series I’d call “bad.” The calculating tactician of the comics is nowhere to be found here; instead, he’s reduced to a monosyllabic, brain-dead stooge for the other villains. Overall, he does nothing that couldn’t be done by a random henchman. 1/5
Two-Face: A deeply layered villain in the comics, Two-Face sadly gets upstaged by the other major rogue in the movie, but that’s not to say he doesn’t leave an impression. Tommy Lee Jones gives him a manic and mercurial demeanor that, combined with his colorful design, wouldn’t be out of place in the Adam West series. The size and scope of his criminal organization make him a genuine threat, and there’s something darkly fitting about Batman’s former ally being responsible for the creation of Robin. 3/5
Poison Ivy: Mr. Rogues for some reason ranked her as the worst Batman movie villain of all time, and frankly, I don’t see why. Like Tommy Lee Jones as Two-Face, Uma Thurman gives this character a delightfully over-the-top demeanor that combines with a colorful, comic-booky ensemble to make for another great “what-if-this-character-appeared-in-the-Adam-West-series” take. She does a good job juggling the differing facets of Ivy’s character: she’s the put-upon cynic, the craven opportunist, the radical eco-terrorist, and the suave seductress all in one package. 3.5/5
The Penguin: Fuck the Razzies. Danny DeVito made this role his own and set the stage for the character for years to come. He’s a bit of a departure, but a welcome one: far from the refined gentleman of crime Burgess Meredith portrayed, this Penguin is an animalistic thug warped by a lifetime of anger and hatred of the society who rejected him due to his deformities. His signature wardrobe, trick umbrellas, and Penguin gimmick are all there, but DeVito sells the role by showing amazing versatility: he can go from a comical and pitiable weirdo to a terrifying sociopath at the drop of a stovepipe hat. 4/5
Mr. Freeze: I honestly can’t say much about this character that my mutual @wonderfulworldofmichaelford hasn’t already. Arnold Schwarzenegger perfectly encapsulates both popular versions of this character: the flamboyant, pun-loving criminal genius from the Adam West series and the Animated Series’ traumatized scientist desperate to cure his loving wife of her terminal illness. Sure, the puns and hammy one-liners are what this version character is known for, but Ahnold definitely knows when to apply the brakes and give a greatly emotional performance as he tries desperately to cure his wife. 4.5/5
Max Shreck: Probably the only time you’ll see a movie-exclusive character on this list, and deservedly so. Corrupt businessmen are dime-a-dozen in Batman stories, and most of them have little personality outside of being greedy scumbags who either get defeated by the hero or betrayed by the other villains. Shreck, however, is different. Not only does he have an eye-catching fashion sense on par with any of Batman’s famous rogues, but Christopher Walken brings his signature manic intensity to the role, creating a character that’s as wicked and sinister as he is cool and stylish. You totally buy that the general public sees him as the good guy. His warm relationship with his son is also a delight to watch. 4.5/5
Catwoman: Michelle Pfeiffer does a lot to really make the character her own. She gets a lot of genuinely badass moments, but underneath all of her coolness lies the undercurrent that she’s a broken, traumatized character lashing out at the people who abused her and took her for granted. Even when she takes these ideals to unreasonable extremes, you never stop feeling like the retribution she brings on her enemies is at least a little warranted. Also, she has amazing romantic chemistry with Batman and her costume is fucking metal. 5/5
The Ridder: It’s Jim Carrey. 5/5
The Joker: This role is perhaps the one that set the standard for future Jokers to follow: Jack Nicholson’s humorous yet unnerving performance signaled to audiences early on that this would not be the goofy trickster of the Silver Age, but a different beast entirely. This Joker is a film noir gangster on crack: a disfigured mob hitman who quickly takes the entire criminal underworld by storm and unleashes his special brand of chaos and destruction across Gotham. He’s an artist, a showman, a charismatic leader, and the man responsible for ruining Bruce Wayne’s life. 5/5
Christopher Nolan Trilogy
Talia al Ghul: You know that recent trend in Disney movies where a side character we thought was harmless and inconsequential turned out to have been the villain all along in a twist with no buildup or foreshadowing with the reveal happening too late in the movie for this character to really do anything cool or impressive before being unceremoniously defeated? That’s Talia. DKR is the weakest of the three Nolan films, and I feel like it would’ve been much better received without this twist villain contrivedly shoehorned in. Also, while I could kinda forgive the trilogy’s whitewashing of other villains like Ra’s al Ghul and Bane due to the talent their actors display, Marion Cotillard doesn’t get a pass because she just doesn’t have the charisma or screen presence needed to pull it off. 1/5
Victor Zsasz: While the idea of redefining Zsasz as an over enthusiastic mob hitman instead of a serial killer is very interesting, it’s ruined by the fact that he barely even appears in the movie and doesn’t really do or say much of anything despite the buildup he gets. 1.5/5
Two-Face: Aaron Eckhart portrays Harvey Dent as a character of tragedy in a slightly different way than other tragic villains in superhero movies: he’s lashing out at a society he feels wronged him, but instead of being a lifelong outcast or put-upon loser, he was a handsome, successful crusader for the common good who lost everything he once held dear all in one fell swoop. You really feel for him even as he does horrible things. If I had to nitpick, though, I am slightly bothered by the fact that he plays some comic book movie cliches straight (i.e. they never call him by his alias and he dies at the end,) but it’s a solid performance overall. 3/5
Scarecrow: I’ll be upfront and admit that I’m more than a little annoyed that certain facets of the character had been changed in the name of “realism” — once again, they never call him by his villain name and he never wears a comic-accurate costume — but other than that, I can’t complain. Cillian Murphy plays the character with a smarmy, eerie charm that really makes his scenes stand out, his willingness to ally himself with other villains suits his character well, and the fact that he appears in three consecutive films with a different evil scheme in each really helps tie the movies together. 3.5/5
Catwoman: Much like other secondary villains in this trilogy, she really doesn’t get a chance to shine compared to the main antagonist — and, once again, it pisses me off a little that they do the whole “never refer to her as Catwoman but vaguely hint at it” thing — but she’s everything a modern Catwoman should be. She’s sly, manipulative, really holds her own in a fight, has great chemistry with Bruce Wayne... it’s all there. It’s also great to see Anne Hathaway break away from her usual type casting to play a role this dynamic. 4/5
Ra’s al Ghul: He’s a character that was in desperate need of mainstream exposure, and by God that’s what he got. Making him Bruce Wayne’s mentor adds a layer of personal tragedy to the climax where our hero has to stop the man who made him who he is from destroying Gotham with his admittedly brilliant plan. Add in a strong, captivating performance from Liam Neeson before we found out he was a racist asshole, and we’ve got one hell of an overarching villain. 4.5/5
The Joker: Everybody’s already discussed this version of the character to hell and back and likely will for years to come, so I’ll keep it very brief. He’s funny, he’s badass, he’s terrifying, he has great dialogue, it sucks that Heath Ledger didn’t live to see his performance reach the audience it got, and he basically makes the entire film. 5/5
Bane: Mr. Rogues actually ranked Bane higher than Joker on his list, and keeping it 100, I actually agree with him here. Finally, after decades of being dumbed down and misrepresented outside of comics, Bane is finally portrayed as the tactical genius from the comics. Tom Hardy plays Bane to perfection, being very believable as the peak of human physical and mental achievement, the man who broke Batman physically and emotionally. His design is iconic, his every line is quotable, his voice is weirdly fitting, and the memes are funny. 5/5
DC Extended Universe
KGBeast: Another point where I agree wholeheartedly with Mr. Rogues. He is absolutely wasted in BVS, being nothing but a generic henchman for Lex Luthor. He doesn’t wear his costume from the comics, he’s never referred to by his alias, he doesn’t have his signature cybernetic enhancements, and he never does or says anything noteworthy. 1/5
The Joker: Ugh. I don’t know what’s worst: the tacky clothes, the stupid tattoos, the weird Richard Nixon impression that passes as his voice, the fact that promotional material hyped him up as a “beautiful tragedy” of a character even though he’s only in the movie for like 10 minutes and barely does anything, Jared Leto’s toxic edgelord behavior on set done with the flimsy pretense of “getting into character,” or the fact that he’s just trying to copy Heath Ledger instead of making the role his own. 1/5
Victor Zsasz: Chris Messina proves undoubtedly that Zsasz CAN work as a secondary villain in a Batman movie. He’s once again a mob assassin who enjoys his job a little too much, but unlike Batman Begins, he really gets time to shine. He’s just as sadistic and depraved as in the comics, but he also has this disarming, casual demeanor about him like he’s just indulging a hobby instead of slicing innocent people’s faces off. His close friendship with his boss Black Mask adds some depth to the character as well. 3/5
Killer Croc: Sadly, he doesn’t get much time in the spotlight, but he’s pretty cool nonetheless. The makeup and prosthetics used to create him look amazing, and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje’s deep voice and imposing body language make him really stand out as an intimidating presence. He’s often in the background, which fits his role as an outcast by choice and a man of few words, but whenever he does get focus, he has everyone’s attention. It really would be a shame if this character’s only appearance was in a mediocre schlock action movie, but he makes the most of what he has. 3.5/5
Deadshot: Another highlight of what would otherwise be a forgettable film, Deadshot is just as cool and competent as he’s always been in other media, but this portrayal stands out for one simple reason. Will Smith was a very odd choice to play the role, but it worked out for the best here because you get the sense he truly understands the characters. He’s ruthless and pragmatic, but has just as enough charm and depth to make him likable. 4/5
Black Mask: I, like many, was skeptical when I saw early trailers depicting Roman Sionis as a foppish weirdo who doesn’t wear his signature mask, but upon seeing the final movie, I really feel like he has the high ground over other DCEU villains. Ewan McGregor is endlessly captivating in the role, portraying him as a swaggering dandy who is nevertheless dangerous due to his boundless narcissism and explosive temper. Sure, those who deal in absolutes would be put off from the differences with his comic counterpart — who is far more cold and humorless — but from a certain point of view, this flamboyant take on the character isn’t so much a departure as it is an addition to make him stand out while keeping his role the same. Black Mask has always been a middleman between the traditional mobsters of yesteryear and the colorful rogues that plague Gotham today, and this portrayal perfectly encapsulates that. He works in the shadows, but isn’t afraid to get his hands dirty; he flies off the handle and gets reckless at times, but there’s no question that the whole operation was his idea. 5/5
Harley Quinn: Margot Robbie owns this role. She’s unbelievably dazzling as a badass, funny, sexy antihero who deals greatly with tragedy and proves that there’s always been more to her than her initial role as the Joker’s sidekick. Again, not much to say, but she’s almost perfect. 5/5
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folkloreguk · 4 years
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Blood Red (optional bias)
A/N: I really didn’t feel like posting this, in light of recent events in the kpop fandom...but I wrote this specifically for Halloween, and I would also hate to post this at some random time of the year...I hope everyone is doing okay, I love you all and Happy Halloween x
words: ~1.7k
genre: smut, reader x optional bias (male)
summary: Y/N meets a handsome stranger at a Halloween party, but does she really know what creature she’s inviting into her home?
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From across the room, you watched your friend make out with her boyfriend. Two meters away, someone had just thrown up onto the floor. But they didn’t even look once. It must be great to be too in love to notice something this gross. But they would realize the second the smell spread, you joked in your head.
Knowing they were too focused on each other to hang out with you, you decided to go out into the front yard. Jack o’ lantern shaped lights hung in the trees and a big fake mummy was the centerpiece of the yard. There were less people outside, but more were escaping the chaos from inside with every second. You looked around, and counted at least five Jokers, one in every direction you turned. To be fair, you couldn’t judge people for being unoriginal, when you had chosen to dress as a vampire. But at least the vampire look was a classic.
“I like your costume,” someone spoke into your ear at that moment. Surprised, you turned to find a young man standing behind you. He had fake blood running down his chin and had clearly invested in the same red contact lenses as you had. And he was handsome – so handsome, you almost forgot to reply to his words. 
“Thank... thank you,” you stuttered. “And I like yours.”
He only smiled knowingly. His clothes didn’t exactly scream vampire – black jeans and a leather jacket – but maybe that’s what had made his costume so charming. And while you slid off into a conversation with him, you barely noticed the yard around you filling with people and how the music was replaced with laughter and talking from everyone close to you. All you could focus on was his honey smile and his red, beautiful shining eyes. And boy was he good at flirting. He made quick-witted jokes and left you shy with his words. So even though you usually didn’t do those kind of things, when he asked you if you wanted to go to his place, you wanted to say yes right away.    
But there was a small voice in your head, warning you. Sometimes it’s the most appealing people who can be the most dangerous. You barely knew him, after all. So, you made a deal with yourself.
“Can we go to my place instead? It’s right around the corner,” you suggested. You almost felt bad for worrying about him when he smiled and nodded.
“Sure,” he said. When he took your hand, you instantly followed him. While you showed him the way to your apartment, you asked yourself whether you had ever met anyone with this kind of effect on you. It had been half an hour, and you wanted to know every little thing about him. But mostly, you wanted to see him with his clothes off. And it seemed he felt the same way about you.
The moment you had stepped into your apartment, he pushed his lips onto yours. You couldn’t complain and while he pushed your jacket off your shoulders, you closed the front door behind you. His lips tasted of metal but also sweet, almost intoxicating. You groaned when his tongue touched yours. Eagerly, you grabbed him by his collar and pulled him towards your bedroom. In the process, his shirt landed somewhere on the floor, and you opened his pants. His hands roamed your body, slipping under the hem of your dress. You shivered beneath his simple touch when he pushed the material up to your hips. To help him, you raised your arms and he took it off. His red eyes shone as he took in the sight in front of him.
But you didn’t feel like waiting. So you kissed him again. He took the opportunity of being close to you to take off your bra. Then, he pushed you back softly, until the back of your legs touched your bed. You lost balance and fell onto your mattress. He looked even more handsome now, his chest pale and his skin smooth. You leaned back as he crawled on top of you, resting his weight between your thighs. Instead of kissing your mouth he lowered his head to your neck now, sucking purple marks onto your skin. You liked the way his teeth brushed your skin now and then, all the way down to the valley of your breasts. He toyed with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers. In response, you arched your chest towards him, a moan escaping your lips. His hot breath fanned against your skin as he moved lower, fingers linking into your underwear by your sides. He teased you, only pulling down the material slightly, licking the exposed skin. You whimpered and moved your hips, wanting more.
He chuckled darkly and watched you for a moment. Slowly, he removed your underwear, his gaze on you making you shiver again. Had his teeth always been this sharp? Then, he finally lowered his head, and when his tongue touched your center you had long forgotten about the question. Your head fell back into the pillows and you sighed happily. He drew figure eights onto your center, his tongue occasionally flicking over your clit. One of his arms was swung around your leg and laying on your stomach, while he used his other hand to support his actions. He rubbed his fingers over your clit, collecting your wetness and then teasingly pushing them against your opening.
You whined, eyes closed while you gripped the sheets by your sides. His tongue had now found your sweet spot and one of his fingers was slowly entering you. Had his other arm not held you down, you would have lifted your hips to earn more contact. But he got the message and fastened his actions, pushing his tongue harder against your clit and adding another finger. He pumped them inside you, curling them and letting you see stars in front of your closed eyelids. More whimpers were falling off your lips, only motivating him further. Soon, you could barely open your eyes and didn’t care about how loud you were being anymore. But as amazing as he was making you feel, you wanted more of him. So, you softly grabbed his hair.
“I want you, now,” you made him understand. He looked up, and your heart skipped a beat at how inhumanly handsome he looked.
“If that’s what you want, I won’t say no,” he spoke, getting up to remove his underwear. You watched him roll on a condom, before he crawled back on top of you. For a moment, he watched you, as if you were some kind of rarity, with admiration in his eyes.
But as much as you enjoyed his look on you, your eagerness got the best of you and you grabbed his neck and pulled him in for another kiss. He groaned into your mouth when you touched his member, pumping his shaft a few times.
“Fuck,” he breathed when the tip slid between your wet folds. You sucked in air when he finally filled you up. And he didn’t waste any time before he started thrusting. Moaning, you buried your fingers in the hair at the back of his head, pulling softly. His arms were supporting his weight next to your head, his muscles flexing with every move he made.
He lowered his head to your neck, teeth grazing your skin. But you barely noticed, feeling almost dizzy from pleasure. The familiar knot in your stomach that had been so close earlier came back now. His breath was hot against your neck and the noises he made sounded almost animalistic, only turning you on more.  
He grabbed the back of your thighs and pushed your legs up against your stomach, and you whimpered at the different, more intense sensation. With every time his hips snapped against yours, his member brushed over your sweet spot, making your head spin. You clenched your walls around him slightly and he groaned at the sound of you whimpering his name when he fastened his trusts, hitting a deeper spot than earlier.
“I’m so close,” you let him know, your voice high and weak. Instead of replying right away, he only seemed to be more motivated to make you come quickly. One of his hands came to rub your clit, making your whimper in surprise.
“Come,” he spoke. “Come for me.”
Those words were all you had needed to let yourself fall. Your eyes clenched shut and your hands curled to fists next to your head while your lips parted in awe.
While you were still coming, you felt him twitch inside of you, his thrusts quickening first, and then became sloppier. While your head was still buried in the pillows and your eyes were closed, you felt him slow his actions as he came down from his high. One last whimper came from your lips when he pulled out.
For a while you lay there, staring up at the ceiling and hearing your breathing become calmer with every second.
“You’re amazing,” he said, laying beside you now. You smiled, a little proud.
“So are you,” you replied. “You can stay the night, if you want, by the way.”
And he took your offer. Only once more you got up, to remove your makeup and your contact lenses, feeling sleepy already. Then you cuddled up against him and fell into a deep slumber.
 When you awoke the next morning, you found an empty spot beside your bed. For a moment you wondered if you had dreamt the entire last night. But then you saw your dress on the floor next to the bed and the memories came flooding back to you, making you smile.
When you stretched your neck, a slight pain went through you, and you walked to the mirror to inspect it. Gently, you bent your head to the side. Purple hickeys adorned your skin. In the middle of them, two small red marks caught your attention. You felt a little dried blood when you touched them carefully. Before you could process what was happening, you looked at your own eyes in the mirror. They were blood-red.
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Text
Everything Burns: Chapter 22
Pairing: Ledger Joker X OC
Warnings: Abuse, Violence, Depression
Word count: 1693
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | - Chapter 21
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Chapter 22: We are getting out!
The cell she had been dumped in was exactly what she had expected, the walls, ceiling and floor were padded with a thick plastic covered foam. A small window was casting light from outside, it was barred up and far too high to reach even without the straight jacket she was dressed in. For hours Jester sat alone staring at the walls of her cell with only her madness for company and for the first time in a long time, she sobbed. Tears washed down her face as she stared out the small window in her cell door.
It had been hours since she had last seen him, hours since she had heard his voice. She was losing what little was left of her mind and she screamed at the top of her lungs but no one seemed to hear her, or maybe they didn't care, she was sure they were used to such noises by now.
"Hush," said a soothing voice she knew all too well through an air vent high up in the wall.
"Joker?" she questioned.
"I'm right here, beautiful" he replied
"Though I doubt I'll be here long, I suspect these cells are somewhat temporary, due to the lack of other inmates," he said and she nodded though he could not see her. She pressed her face against the wall that separated them and hummed. She heard him chuckle and she smiled.
"Don't you worry Jester, I'll get us out," said Jack, his voice drifting through the vent separating their rooms.
"I love you" she whispered to him and again she heard him chuckle.
Jack had been right of course. No less than an hour later she was moved from her cell, more willingly than before she did not want to receive the 'intensive treatment' again so soon.
Jack did not see Scarlett again for another 6 months and when he did he did not recognise her. She was a shell of her former self, for good behaviour both had been granted outside time, they were placed in two large cages next to each other. The cage was bare, just a few wooden benches bolted to the concrete floor, trees surrounded the cage, but that was the only form of life as the people within the cage couldn't really be counted as alive.
If you weren't crazy when you came to Arkham you would be within a few months. He was pushed inside the cage with around 15 other men and he made his way to a bench to soak in a little of the sun. That was when he spotted her, she was sitting with her back to the cage wall separating them. Her black hair was split and wild, she was clean but her skin was grey and her eyes were so sad that it felt like Jack's heart broke just to look at her. She wasn't crying, though her face looked as though she were about to. She had aged and a few grey hairs could be seen. Her once perfect midnight hair was now a dull shade of dark grey. He knew it was her but as she looked up she did not seem to even recognise him. The lighting shaped burns on her arms testament to the regular 'intensive' treatment she was receiving.
He made his way to her and could feel the stare of the guards on his skin. He sat so his back was to hers slightly leaning against the cage, he turned his head to look at her and he saw a single tear roll down her face.
"I haven't told them anything," she said quietly, her chapped lips splitting open as she spoke. He could tell from the gruffness of her voice this was the first time she had spoken in a very long time.
"I never thought you would," he said just as quietly. She didn't look at him, simply nodded slightly, staring into her lap.
"I've missed you, I ..." she began but her voice cracked and she shut her mouth again.
"I've missed you too, gorgeous," he said slowly, he had never seen her like this and he never wanted to see her so broken again.
"I'll get us out of here, I'm working on it, just trust me," he said and again she nodded.
"I always have," she said so quietly the wind almost stole her words. Usually, he would have smiled at this. Usually, he would have laughed but not today her soul was dying and suddenly nothing seemed all that funny anymore.
"They keep giving me these drugs," she said after some time and Jack only nodded.
"Me too, I don't take them though," he replied and again she nodded.
"Me neither," she said.
"I don't like it here, they keep ..." again her voice cracked and a single tear split from her eye.
"I know, I know, but I promise I will get us out soon." he said though he had no idea how he would do so, he needed to save her. Never in his life had he needed anyone, never in his life had he wanted anyone until there was her.
Break time was over far too quickly and soon they were led away from each other again and into the asylum. They saw each other each day, at break and would sit against the fence with one another, but she never looked up at him. He was starting to wonder if she was hiding something. Every day that he saw her she seemed to deteriorate more, in a bid to cheer her up he would bring her gifts, paper flowers he had made in his cell or other pretty things he had found around the asylum. His plan of breaking them out was coming together; he had already found out a few weaknesses of at least 5 of the guards that would make bribing and or threatening them easy. But he needed more time though he wondered how long Scarlett had left, she seemed as though she would drop down dead at any minute.
It took him around a month to get everything in place for the breakout. It was not as easy as he thought, getting himself out was a piece of cake and he would not still be in this hell hole if it wasn't for her. He needed to take her with him, more than he needed to breath, but the organising of it had been hard. He could not tell her anything in fear of being overheard by the other patients or the guards, so she knew nothing. He had heard the doctors talking about her, saying they would have to up her treatment and he was not sure she would take much more. The electrocutions that they had the audacity to call 'treatment' was now twice daily for Scarlett and he was worried. Jack had never felt worried about anyone before, he didn’t even worried about himself. But Scarlett had given him a feeling that he had thought that he was incapable of long ago. He would get her out. If it was the last thing he ever did. She was his and he would keep her.
It was the day before, he knew his plan would get them out and he sat with her in the yard again.
"One more day gorgeous and we will be out of here." he said but she only nodded he feared she had lost her faith in him, or maybe just her will.
"I will get you out," he assured.
"I know" she whispered her hair covering her face as per usual.
"I need you." he said it so quietly, it was the nearest he had ever got to saying the three words she often told him and finally she looked at him. He smiled at her and she smiled back. He tried to control the horror he felt as he looked on at her once flawless face. He knew now why she had not looked at him.
The scar he had given her had split and was much wider and longer than it had been before. As though it had been forcibly torn open. It was more raised and looked more angry, much like the scars on his own face, but this had not been the feature to cause him such shock. Above her scar was her right eye, once it had been bright and shiny and so very beautiful, but now it was clouded white as though she had a severe cataract and the corners were bloodshot and raw. It covered her whole right eye and he wondered if she could see out of it at all, his face must have shown his horror as she turned her head away quickly staring into her lap again.
"Don't look at me." she said as tears splashed into her lap.
"Gorgeous?" he said, turning so he was on his knees, his hands pressed against the cage, his finger pushing through as though to try and touch her.
"Please don't call me that." she cried quietly.
"But you are gorgeous, you are so beautiful," he argued and she turned her body to him and looked him dead in the eye.
"How can you say that, look at me. Look what they have done to me. You can't say that!" she was almost screaming at him. Her face as close to his as possible through the cage.
"You said I was handsome." he said slowly and she seemed to falter.
"Even with my scars, you thought I was handsome. I think you are beautiful." he said simply and she let out a sob and placed her forehead to the cage, he did the same so they were almost touching she gripped the cage with her fingers and he pushed his through to hold her hand as best as he could.
"I love you." She sobbed and he smiled.
"I need you." He replied.
"We are going to get out, aren't we?" she asked.
"Yes we are, just be ready." he said and finally after all this time she grinned and Joker cackled.
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