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stxleslyds · 3 years

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LET’S TALK ABOUT BATMAN AND ROBIN #20 (2011).

And the issues that followed that story (Batman and Robin vol.2 #34-37)

DC and the fandom really let Bruce get away with what he did to Jason in that issue. DC because they had Jason go back to Bruce a few issues later to finish their story and the fandom because this moment in comics isn’t talked about enough which has led people to believe that the the concept of “batfamily” as it is in fandom belongs in canon.

This type of moments in stories should make a bigger impact on comic relationships and fandom’s perception of said relationships. From where I am standing Bruce’s actions in that issue are right on the edge of unforgivable and they could have used them as a key moment for Jason to finally move on from all Bat related bullshit without thinking that he had to stay and finish the job (of getting Damian back).

Making Jason move on so easily from that situation really makes it look like if Batman is physically, emotionally, or mentally abusive to his children then it’s not that much of a big deal, it’s just a subplot to a bigger story.

And that is something that happens repeatedly in current comics and it’s disgusting.

Anyway, now that I am done with my rambling, I will start talking about the issues that I mentioned.

Batman and Robin (2011) #20 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

For a little context, this issue is set after Damian’s death and Bruce is looking for ways to resurrect him.

And in this particular issue of this run, Batman recruits Jason Todd between the events of RHatO vol. 1 #18 and #19, that’s why in the cover of the issue the name of the run is changed to ‘Batman and Red Hood’.

A bit more context is that in issue #18 Jason finally recovers from the injuries that he got when the trap that Joker had put on his helmet detonated, and Jason was also having an existential crisis after the Joker convinced him that he was always present in Jason’s life and that he shaped the man that Jason had become (If you want to read more about that and the times' Joker has played with Jason’s mind, I have this post in which I talk all about that).

Good, now I can finally talk about this hellish issue.

Bruce asks for Jason’s help because he wants to take down some marksmen and women that are based in Ethiopia that might or might not have been the same people who took on the job of looking for Damian when his mother had put a bounty on his head.

One would imagine that Bruce calling Jason for this job means that he would let Jason kill some people, bounty-hunters that are money-driven enough to kill children seem to be the kind of people Jason would have in his black list, but Jason is smart and he knows that Batman won’t let him kill so he asks why is Bruce asking him of all people to join him on this mission, Batman replies with “Because I am seeing red”.

If you, like me, don’t understand why Batman would ask the Red Hood to stop him from killing some very shady people then don’t worry, Batman was lying, he didn’t ask Jason to go with him to beat some bounty-hunters, he has ulterior motives.

I will give it to Tomasi, he wrote Jason as the smart cookie that he is because Jason doesn’t stop picking up on the weird technicalities of the mission, and I will go as far as to say that Jason never truly believed that Bruce was being honest about the true nature of their mission. Smart Chonky, I miss you and love you.

Once they get to Ethiopia Bruce starts setting the rules of engagement (don’t shoot to kill, only hands, knees, and elbows), and off they go. Bruce even makes a comment about how it “feels like old times” and Jason is all happy and warm that Bruce invited him to beat some baddies and he also brings up the fact that Bruce stayed by his side while he was recovering from his injuries, very lovely stuff that will soon mean nothing (and that should have meant nothing because Bruce and his lies had resulted in Joker knowing all of their secret identities and messing with all of them in horrible ways, but the Bat can get away with that too).

Here is part of Bruce’s speech about trust and his lies, “You don’t ever need to thank me, Red Hood, for a family always looks out for each other” to which Jason says, “Yeah but a family also needs to earn each other’s trust” and Bruce continues his speech with, “comes a time when having to keep earning someone’s trust stops and you hope the people you’ve put your faith in will always have your back no matter what”.

Batman, everyone, master detective and master manipulator.

As Batman is talking manipulating Jason he beats every bounty hunter almost effortlessly because he had brought some bat-gadgets that were going to make the fight really easy. And as the fight is over in what looks like a minute Batman and Red Hood get on the Batmobile ready to leave Ethiopia… or not.

Jason is very aware that Batman didn’t need him for that so-called mission so he starts to ask more and more firmly about the real reason as to why Batman brought him to this place.

Batman brought Jason back to Ethiopia, but most importantly back to the Magdala Valley because he wants to see if Jason going back to the place where he died will make him remember how he was resurrected.

Yep, talk about having messed-up parents. Bruce is positively the worst at this moment, but it gets worse.

Jason is rightfully pissed off, he says, “You lied to me, this wasn’t about taking down those mercenaries. You wanted to bring me here, to the worst place in the world and here I was starting to believe all your crap about trust and faith...”

To which Bruce says, “I thought bringing you here could jog your memory, maybe retrieve a detail buried deep in your subconscious that could help piece together how you came back to life so I…”

And my man Jason really continues his thought process only to later tell him how much of a piece of shit he truly is (I love this Chonky, go Jason show this man that he ain’t shit).

“…could apply it to getting Damian back. Yeah, I get it. Did it ever occur to you I might like keeping whatever the hell happened to me buried deep? If you cared about me, you wouldn’t want me to dredge up the one thing I’ve been trying to forget. I don’t want to remember the most horrific day of my life all right? You may like wallowing in your tragedies, Bruce, but I’m done looking back!”

Jason, bravo, tell him exactly how you feel! Any sort of good human being would surely accept that they crossed a massive line and that they should ask for forgiveness next, right?... Right?

No. And that’s because Bruce is a horrible human being, I am sorry but it had to be said, this man has zero empathy for Jason and he proves it when he says the following.

“If you cared about me and what I’ve lost, you’d want to dredge this up! Don’t you see, there is a chance you can help me erase one of the worst days of MY life, Jason! You can give me the greatest gift of all and help me figure out how to bring my son back”

Fuck Bruce Wayne. This man has no right whatsoever to talk this way to Jason, no matter how you see this situation, the whole thing is fucked up. Bruce puts his needs above Jason’s feelings and he diminishes Jason’s position as his son because Bruce only refers to Damian as his son. This whole thing is incredibly nasty.

Here we should have had the point of no return for Jason and Bruce’s relationship, although if you are like me, you might think that the point of no return happened way back in Batman (1940) #650 when Bruce decided that saving the Joker by throwing a batarang at Jason’s neck (how did he know that Jason would survive that, I have no idea, maybe Bruce can see the future) was a better option compared to Jason finally killing the clown. Because that’s the thing, Jason was going to kill the clown but Bruce didn’t let him because he didn’t want more blood in Jason’s hands, I laugh until this day about how stupid Bruce’s thinking was there.

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that Jason should have said bye-bye to Batman and all related Batman crap from this moment on. It would have been perfect but DC can’t help themselves and Lobdell’s self-insert-Jason really wants to be part of this amazing family so, no luck for Jason or us.

If you have read my latest post about Joker getting under Jason’s skin or read issue #18 of RHatO you know the context of what Jason says next.

“Yeah, and how about me? How about the gift of not knowing that the Joker manipulated my entire life, huh? The clown tainted everything, the good, the bad, hell my life’s even been tainted by you!”

Yup, Jason was going through it, and he had talked about these feelings with Bruce previously in issue #17 of RHatO, he had asked Bruce if he thought that Joker had created him and Bruce said, “No Jason, He didn’t make you, I never did either. You made you” and Jason was extremely thankful for that. And now, here we are, these feelings are being brought up again but in a very different situation.

Them arguing becomes a physical fight and after Jason asks Bruce “why are you making me stand in the exact same spot he beat me to death?” He replies this “Because I want to watch Damian grow up damn it! Damian earned that right! And I want to give it to him!”

This conversation only gets worse and Bruce’s most horrible side comes to light, like, I understand that Bruce wants Damian to be alive and all that but he is saying all the wrong stuff to Jason. I feel like as the reader I am being told that Bruce values Damian more than he ever did Jason because he is willing to put Jason through his own personal hell for Damian but refuses to see the reasons as to why Jason doesn’t want to do it. Bruce is being incredibly selfish and he is not caring enough about Jason to notice that he is hurting him. He even doesn’t notice after Jason says, “I was ready to stand by your side and you’ve thrown it all away!”

It is incredibly sad but it's also a bit of a look into what Bruce will do to Dick in Nightwing vol. 3 #30. It has the exact same vibe in both issues, Bruce going completely berserk on his children and telling them that he “trained them to be better”.

This issue ends with Jason punching Bruce several times and Bruce taunting Jason by telling him that he might as well continue because he is “still standing”. The levels of manipulation that Bruce had going on here weren’t as high as the ones in Nightwing #30 but he sure was a little bitch every step of the way.

Jason, being smart, doesn’t take the bait and tells Bruce that he is leaving and he is taking the car.

Wouldn’t this have been an amazing moment for Jason to finally rid himself of all Batman-related events and bullshit? How did DC miss this amazing opportunity to make Jason Todd/Red Hood a character that can stand on his own and with his own rules?

The potential that was wasted when they made Jason go back to Bruce and help him get Damian back in issues 33 to 37 of this same run is immeasurable. And just like Joker being able to get under Jason’s skin, him going back to Bruce and the “family” for plot purposes harmed Jason’s characterization greatly.

Batman and Robin (2011) #34-37 – Written by Peter Tomasi.

Whatever kind of respect I held for Tomasi because of the way he wrote Jason in #20 is now gone. Issues 34 to 37 have Jason fighting alongside Batman and him being all buddy-buddy with him.

Now, let me make something clear, Bruce wanting to bring Damian back to life/from Apokolips is absolutely fine with me, a father fighting for his son’s life can always make a good story, the thing is that at this point in time not only the events of Batman and Robin #20 have happened but so have the events of Nightwing #30.

So, Bruce going through all of this for one of his kids (that keeps being brought up as if he were his only son) after he emotionally manipulated Jason and Dick makes this story very bitter.

But I understand what DC is doing, you know? Here is how they manage to make this story as bitter-sweet as possible. In issue 34 of this run, Dick shows up in his Spyral get-up and offers his help in getting Damian back, because the kid meant a lot to him but Bruce can’t have Dick helping him out along with Barbara and Tim because Bruce has everyone convinced that Dick is dead. So, DC was like “here is this big brain idea, let’s have Jason, Barbara, and Tim helping Bruce get Damian back”. And that’s exactly what they did.

They dragged Jason back to Batman-related crap after he was manipulated, insulted, and punched by the man that is supposed to be his father. And this issue is also happening after Jason had such an immense existential crisis that he decided to have his memory wiped so he could cleanse himself on any doubt that the Joker had manipulated his free will.

How on earth are we supposed to believe that Jason is dumb enough to go back to Batman after all that? Does DC and its writers read their own material? Do they check if the characters that they are planning on using have contradicting narratives?

It’s so messy, the opportunity that DC, Tynion, Tomasi, and Lobdell got to make Jason his own man and his own character was completely wasted, just for a Batman event!

And it isn’t like Jason’s participation in getting Damian back was crucial, it really wasn’t, if I am planning on taking a team of heroes to Apokolips for a rescue mission, Jason, Barbara and Tim wouldn’t be my first options. Jason was put in that book only so they could have someone making snarky comments and for Jason to be like “Bruce we are family, we will always have each other’s backs” I mean, who is Jason supposed to be, Dom Toretto?

Here are some of the moments that seemed the most out of touch for Jason in these issues.

Batman and Robin #34

In issue 34 Bruce gives a long speech about him not wanting to hide things anymore from them (like he did during the events of Death of the Family) and that he wants a new start because they “have been broken long enough” so from that moment forward “good or bad, the truth rules”.

The audacity of this man, my god, how dense can Bruce be? “we’ve been broken long enough”? YOU have broken your relationship with these people time and time again! As you are standing there talking about the truth you are hiding the fact that Dick is alive and well somewhere far away because YOU sent him on a very dangerous mission after he died and you manipulated him.

THE AUDACITY OF THIS PIECE OF SHIT! Am I becoming an anti-Batman blog? I think I am and quite honestly, I am having the time of my life. Fuck this guy.

But back to the issue, after Bruce says that the truth is all that goes now, Barbara basically says that she doesn’t believe him, that all it takes for Bruce to go back to lying is “another situation that justifies you going dark on us in more ways than one” HA! You go, girl! But he is already hiding something from all of you.

Jason being himself supplies a situation like the ones where Batman lies to them in order to get them to work for him, he says, “or bringing me to Magdala Valley on a sightseeing trip to reminisce about the good old days of crowbars and explosions”, ah yes, sure, Bruce did all that back in issue 20 and now it is brought up as an afterthought… how wonderful.

Bruce, of course, lies to their faces when he says “I promise that nothing gets held back. We speak our mind no matter what the cost” to which Jason says “Unconditional truth now and forever, Bruce, otherwise this is all a load of crap”.

AND IT IS! IT IS ALL A LOAD OF CRAP CHONKY! RUN, RUN LIKE THE WIND!

Man, what a mess, poor Dick. He had to wait there and watch his father lie his ass off. And he really wanted to help Bruce get Damian back. Even after Bruce told Dick (as well as Barbara, Tim, and Jason) that he had to go to Apokolips alone Dick still helped Bruce in other ways, Dick really is the MVP, what a man, I love him so much!

(I really needed to show my love for Dick right then and there, sometimes you just have to do it. Dick Grayson is, after all, the greatest comic character to have ever been created).

Batman and Robin #36

First of all, seeing Jason and Barbara wearing the Robin symbol really makes me laugh. It’s just weird to see Barbara wear it, it almost feels like it’s something that shouldn’t have happened and in Jason’s case, well, the last time he wore it he died and it’s kinda funny to see beefy and tall Red Hood wearing a Robin symbol, it’s just funny not a critique.

What I am going to critique from this issue is that after they (Jason, Barbara, and Tim) go to Apokolips and find Bruce they say, “You’re here in this hellish place for your son, Bruce” and Jason continues that with, “And we’re here for you”.

Ah, the irony. Of all people, having Jason say that to Bruce is wild. This man has done nothing for Jason and here Jason is, in Apokolips, of all places, to help a man that does not deserve it. This is proof that Jason is a good man but its also proof that he is an idiot in the New 52, I am sorry but come on, writing Jason this way after what Bruce did to him in issue 20 seems like DC is confirming the fact that even though Batman does the most horrible stuff to his kids, he can still get away with it because his kids still love him all the same.

I understand, loving your parents when they are flawed but Bruce had been written at this time like an abusive father, and he was written like that towards Jason and Dick, so it is not a good look. Bruce saying that he promises that he won’t do it anymore isn’t enough DC, make the man pay for being that way, make his kids stay away from him for a while (or forever).

And here is the other thing, I say that Bruce is Jason and Dick’s father but DC doesn’t, they only acknowledge Damian as Bruce’s son and they do it because the New 52 timeline is non-existent. After all, they deleted a lot of history from these characters, I think it’s fair to assume that Bruce never adopted Dick or Jason and that both of them were Robin for a very short time. What I am trying to say with this is that not only is Bruce getting away with being abusive but he is also getting away with being an abusive father. Because Bruce is their father, at least I see it that way, he isn’t just his friend/mentor/tutor he is their father. He used to be before New 52 and that’s not something that we as the readers are ready or want to let go of.

All in all, Jason didn’t do much in these issues thus confirming (to me, at least) that the only reason he was invited to the party was because they couldn’t use Dick. And that’s an insult to Jason’s character, it would have been better if Jason didn’t appear in this story and he actually had the chance to do something else, like go back to being the proper Red Hood, an anti-hero that does what Batman won’t do for Gotham and its people.

#jason todd #red hood #batman and robin #batman #robin #dc comics #batman and red hood #dick grayson #nightwing

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anxiouspotatorants · 2 years

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I just watched Batman and DC has once again drawn me into their waters with siren song before they will most likely drown me again.

Thoughts and feelings under the cut (major spoiler talk so spoiler warning!!!), but the short version is I love it.

First off let me get this off my chest: year three Batman year three Batman year three Batman year three Batman year three Batman year three Batman-

On a serious note I just love that they approached Batman in his early days without going all the way to the beginning. So often in the movies those days of Batman still figuring stuff out and making major mistakes with major consequences just don’t get explored but now we did!!

And while I’m not surprised at all I am very happy about Matt Reves’ and Robert Pattinson’s approach to Batsy. I’m talking emo I’m talking in a serious mental health crisis I’m talking on constant verge of crying (yeah people really weren’t joking about that) I’m talking self destructive and one track minded but ready 👏for 👏change👏

Like the fact that Bruce didn’t know Spanish enough to pick up on the grammatical error. The fact that the Riddler himself was like “oh you’re not as smart as I thought you were”. This movie let Bruce make mistakes and I for one am here for it.

Speaking of the Riddler I am so happy we finally have him back! Like thinking about it now he is the perfect franchise-starter villain because his aesthetic and his means demand all the basic elements of Batman that make him who he is: the mystery solving (detective Batsy!), the weird and wacky but also really dark looks, the multiple villains being kind of parallels/foils to Bruce!

Also I was pretty worried they would turn the Riddler into a Joker wannabe the same way Batman V Superman did Lex (I don’t hate that movie but it did Lex dirty), but he actually got to be his genuinely own thing! And they drew on different elements of the different ways the Riddles has been characterized over the years at that!

Sidenote one of my two pet peeves about this movie was the Joker reveal at the end (I am just so so tired of the Joker), but I’m willing to let it go if it just means we’ll get a full rogues gallery one day rather than this becoming a Joker franchise.

Speaking of rogues gallery Selina motherf*cking Kyle! Fashion girl Selina is back and she is rocking the prettiest leather looks in town to the point where even emo Bruce can pick her boots out from miles away. But even more important she gets to be the Catwoman brand of morally grey. Like, she’s the kind to pick up strays of any kind and only attacks/takes money hits on those she categorizes as morally bad, but she’s also convinced the world is doomed and that murder is the only end to violence and corruption. We really got to understand why her and Bruce are so perfect for each other but can’t really be together either.

And the way she fit into the story! Like it wasn’t just “look, there’s Catwoman doing her thing to the side!”, but instead that she was an instrumental player to the story.

My other pet peeve was that several of the romance-ish scenes between Selina and Bruce were so corny they took me out of it. Like Bruce awkwardly staring at her body and the romantic strings every time they were in the same frame. I love BatCat and maybe they needed this level of cheese for what is essentially a 24/7 drama queen movie (an observation not a diss), but I could have dealt with a little less of it. Cornyness aside the overall arch between the two was really good though.

Also James Wright is the best Gordon. That may be a personal opinion and not a fact, but It’s my fact.

This movie really was so dramatic from the Ave Maria and Nirvana to the artsy cinematography (which my basic film girl ass is very much here for) the constant melodrama. It might be bad in another world, but for Batman? For year three Batman? It’s what he needs and it’s what we as an audience deserve.

While we’re on the topic of cinematography this movie is so pretty. Like especially the lighting and the texture, it felt so up close and personal. I especially loved the Ice Lounge shots and the car chase with Penguin (I mean come on).

Not to mention that this really was a Bruce Wayne origin story. I love how in contrast to the trilogy this movie was about Bruce realizing he needs to be more than a selfmade weapon against crime. That when he does things thast way he’ll (however unintentionally) inspire people to do what the Riddler did. And how seeing Selina go down the same vengeance path he has carved out for himself helped him see that path in a whole new light. His parents may have been stupid at best and willfully colluding with corrupt forces at best, but Bruce has a duty to help as himself for the community and for himself. (and shoutout to mayor Reál, I am rooting for her)

I probably have a lot more thoughts and feelings but just. This f*cking movie.

#the potato rants #the batman #batman #bruce wayne #selina kyle #catwoman #james gordon #the riddler #dc comics #the batman spoilers

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sometimesiwritebadly · 4 years

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Carter (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: You’re a single mother, and your 12-year-old daughter, Carter, decided to track down her father.

Warnings: Mentions unsupportive asshole parents. Also language. References sex (between two underage kids) and teen pregnancy.

Notes: ....so i kinda disappeared for almost a month...and instead of updating my series i have decided to write a whole new fic... sorry? :) in my defence it says right there in my user that i only write SOMETIMES

also this is kinda an au where Spencer graduated high school at 16 instead of 12 yet somehow gets all his doctorates and joins the fbi at the same time. does the math work out? no. do i care? no.

also sorry if your name is Carter. maybe you can pretend you pulled a Lorelai Gilmore and named your kid after yourself

Word Count: 1.9k

Masterlist

“Carter!” You ran through the hallways, paying no attention to the various government agents staring as you made your way to your 12-year-old daughter. About an hour ago, you’d gotten a call from her school because she hadn’t shown up to her classes that morning, even though you’d watched her get on the bus yourself. After the longest 15 minutes of your life, you got a call that freaked you out even more; Carter had gone all the way to Quantico and was now with the FBI. You drove like a madwoman from work, especially since all the FBI Agent, Jareau, had told you over the phone call was that your daughter was safe. Now, that same agent was trying to keep up with you as you marched towards your daughter, who was sitting at a desk in the middle of a busy office.

“Miss Y/L/N, maybe we can take you guys somewhere private to-”

“Carter Rose Y/L/N, what on earth possessed you to skip school and take a field trip to the FBI?” You interrupted the agent, talking to your daughter, whose eyes were now wide in fear. You two don’t fight often- or at all, really. You’d had her when you were only 16, so sometimes your relationship danced the line around the line between mother/daughter and two sisters. This was the first, and hopefully only, time she’d done anything to make you truly angry. Instead of answering you, Carter just looked down at her hands, mumbling something. “Carter, the longer you don’t answer me, the longer you’ll be grounded.” Your voice softened just slightly, but it was enough for Carter to know how worried you’d been.

“I found dad.” Her words made your heart stop. You hadn’t thought about her dad in a long time, you wouldn’t let yourself.

“What?” Carter only looked over to the man that had been standing next to her. You hadn’t even glanced at him, you were too worried and mad at Carter. You looked up at him, and he looked at you, and you felt like your world was crashing down. Spencer Reid. You hadn’t seen him since you were 15, when he’d left to go to CalTech. He was just a couple months older than you, 16 years old, but he was already graduating high school with enough college credit to put him halfway through an undergrad degree. He was set to become one of the youngest doctors in the country. And now here he was, 12 years later. He looked at you with the same wide eyes he had all those years ago, the same look your daughter had on her face.

“Agent Jareau?” The blonde woman came back into your line of sight, but you only glanced at her before looking back to Spencer. “Can you watch Carter for a while?”

“Yeah, of course.” Carter stood up to follow Agent Jareau, but before she could walk away, your hand stopped her.

“You’re grounding starts now, C. Hand it over.” Carter begrudgingly pulled her backpack off her shoulder and opened it. First she placed her phone in your hand, then pulled out a book and handed it over as well. You glanced at the cover. You know for a fact that she finished this book yesterday, so you tucked it under your arm and held out your hand again, and waited for her to place her second book in it. A moment later, another book was in your hand, and you nodded at Agent Jareau, allowing her to take your daughter out of sight to what you assumed to be her office. Finally, you turned back to Reid.

“Hi.” You started, avoiding eye contact. You weren’t sure how to start this conversation. You never thought you’d have to have this conversation.

“Hi.” Awkward silence. Instead of looking at Spencer, you looked around the office space, and noticed that some people were staring at you and Spencer. Spencer followed your gaze, and turned back to you. “Um, those are my coworkers. We have a conference room, do you wanna talk there?”

“Yeah, that’d be good.” You followed Spencer across the office and into a small conference room. You both sat down at the circular table, and Spencer opened his mouth to speak first.

“Is it true?” You only nodded in response, still not able to look at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You took a deep breath before looking up at him to answer. Spencer had tears developing in his eyes, and he was leaning towards you. Raising Carter on your own had been hard, but you’d never even considered how missing out on so much of her life would affect him. “You...you were going to college. You had this insane future ahead of you, and I didn’t want to ruin it. By the time I found out, you were already gone, so…”

“You left Vegas.” Spencer interrupted. “When I came home for Thanksgiving, I stopped by your parent’s house. They refused to talk to me, and said that you transferred to a boarding school.” You scoffed at your parent’s lie. Your parents were pretentious, upper-class people. They’d wanted you to “take a semester abroad,” and quietly give up the baby for adoption. You refused, so you emptied your savings account and booked a ticket to DC, where your cousin was willing to take you and the baby in. There, you finished up your GED online, got a part time job, and began to raise Carter.

“Yeah.” You paused. “She was born May 19th. She’s 12 now.” Spencer was hanging on to every word that came out of your mouth. “She reminds me a lot of you. She’s always reading, and she loves school. I would say I’m surprised that she found you, but she’s way smarter than I am.”

“You never told her about me?”

“I told her some stuff. She knows that we dated in high school, and that you went to college early. I didn’t want her to feel abandoned, so I told her that you left before I could tell you I was pregnant.”

“You could’ve told me.” Spencer didn’t seem angry, but it was very clear how upset he was.

“I know I could’ve. But I was 16, and the only person in my life that was willing to accept me and Carter was my cousin, and she was only 22 at the time. I didn’t want to reach out to you only for you to reject me too.” Your response didn’t appear to make Spencer feel much better. “Look, Spencer, you can be mad at me all you want, but it’s obvious Carter wants to get to know you. I won’t force you to be a part of her life now, but don’t cut her out because you’re mad at me.”

Before Spencer could respond, there was a knock at the door, and a brunette woman poked her head in. “Sorry, I know this is important, but we have a case. Spence, Hotch said you can stay back, work this case from here with Garcia.”

“No, I don’t want to take you away from work.” You saw a stray piece of paper on the table, and reached into your purse to grab a pen. You quickly wrote your number and address on the paper, before pushing it towards Spencer. “Work your case, and when it’s over, we can talk more. It’ll give you some time to think things through.” Spencer looked at your words on the paper, and only nodded in response.

“You daughter is in JJ’s office, I’ll walk you over.” The brunette agent said, so you followed her out to pick up Carter.

~~~

A week later, you hadn’t received any calls from Spencer. Carter asked for updates practically every hour. You were tempted to give her back her phone and books just to get her off your back about him, but she’s grounded. That means the only books she’s allowed to read are for school, but right now it feels like you’re being punished just as much as she is. You were in the kitchen making dinner for the two of you when you heard a knock on the door. “C? Can you get the door? Check the peephole first-”

“I know, I know, never open the door for strangers.” Carter interrupted you, pausing her studying in the living room to walk out of your sight and to the door. You faintly heard the sound of the door opening before Carter spoke again. “Mom? Can Dad stay for dinner?” The mention of Spencer shocked you, and caused you to trip over your own feet and hit your knee against one of the cabinets.

“Shit!” You said loudly, reaching down to rub your hand against what would quickly become a bruise. Just as this happened, Carter and Spencer entered the room. Carter with a large smile on her face.

“That’s a dollar in my jar!” She said happily, grabbing your wallet from the counter and handing it to you.

“Yeah, I know.” You rolled your eyes, pulling a dollar out and handing it to her so she could put it in her jar.

“Mom and I each have a jar, and at the end of the month we go shopping with whatever money we have. Whenever she swears, I get a dollar, and whenever I do, she gets a dollar.” Carter explained for Spencer, then lowered her voice to a whisper, that you still easily hear, “I always have more money to spend.”

“Hey! That’s not true!” You defended yourself, even though you know she’s right. While the swear jar had easily stopped your daughter from using foul language (that she’d picked up from you), you had a lot more trouble holding your tongue.

“If your language is anything like it was in high school, then Carter is probably right.” Spencer joked, causing Carter to laugh.

“You know I don’t have to feed you two, I can eat all of this myself.” You responded, turning back to your stove.

“You wouldn’t!” Carter gasped, which caused you to laugh, giving yourself away.

“Ok, ok, you’re right. This time.” You paused for a moment, “Hey C, Spencer likes reading almost as much as you do. Why don’t you grab one of your favorites from the shelf for him to read?” Carter clearly liked this idea, because she was running to her room in an instant, yelling facts about her favorite book from her room. You knew you’d only have a minute alone with Spencer, so you turned away from the food and back to him. “Are you sure?” You asked.

You could tell from the look on Spencer’s face that he understood exactly what you meant. Once he decides to be Carter’s dad, he can’t go back. You were giving him an out.

“Yes.” He answered, with more confidence than you’d ever seen from him.

“Good.” You said, with a small smile ghosting your face. Just as quickly as she left, Carter came bounding back into the room, carrying 5 books instead of the one you’d suggested.

“I couldn’t choose a favorite book. I read kind of fast, but you can borrow these for as long as you want! I don’t mind sharing.”

“Oh yeah? How fast did you read these?” Spencer asked, looking over the book descriptions on the back.

“I usually read a book a day. Sometimes I finish books in a few hours if they’re interesting enough.”

“Impressive! Maybe one day you’ll be on my level.” Spencer bragged. You tuned out of the conversation as Spencer began talking about how fast he reads, and how Carter could learn to read faster. You just watched them, enjoying the fact that for the first time ever, Carter could have a dad. And maybe, with time, you’ll end up being some kind of family.

~~~

taglist: @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @la-vie-en-amour1 @peculiarinsomniac

#spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid au

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flying-nightwing · 3 years

Text

Double Cross (Jason Todd)

Hi people! So this is my little project I was talking about. A sudden blurb of inspiration led me to this and uh. Here it is! Once again, this is super experimental so yeah idk about its potential. You’ll be the judge of that I guess

This time I worked on time jumps back and forth and perspectives, so let me know how it turned out!

Masterlist in bio/pinned!

Pairing: Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 6937

Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk it’s dc so you know what you’re into

-- 36 hours ago --

Your heart was beating hard against your ribcage as you flew down Washington DC's streets. Your motorcycle was burning under you, and you had a feeling you were on the clock to get off of this ticking time bomb before it exploded and brought you down with it. The bullet holes broke the black paint, decorating your bike in a way that flagged unwanted attention. About six blocks ago, unmarked cars had joined your fast paced parade across the city.

A terrible mistake, all of this was. That was certain.

You took a sharp right, your knee scraping on the asphalt on the way. An infernal noise came out of your bike, but you still willed it to accelerate on the straight alley. You shot back on the main roads like a bullet, swerving around the black police car that had tried to cut you off. But soon enough, you saw the blockade on the street in front of you. You could never jump it with your bike so in disarray, and there were no viable alleys to sneak into. You shut your eyes tight for a moment, then exhaled.

"I'm sorry Jason" You muttered to yourself. "But you left me no choice"

With a firm grip, you pressed the brakes and came to a stop a fair distance from the blockade. You turned off your bike and kicked the foot to hold it up, slowly getting off and pulling your hands up. Shouts erupted around you as the police mobilised themselves in tight formations, guns up and ready to shoot. With one hand up, you undid your tinted black helmet and let it fall to the ground.

"On your knees!" An officer shouted as he approached. "Keep your hands where I can see them"

You complied.

-- Now --

The white of the neons glaring down on you made your already tired eyes hurt, saturating your vision with a harsh and constant flash of light. You were left alone with a room temperature glass of water on your left and your own reflection on your right. You couldn’t hear them, but you knew they were there, observing you. Instead, all you could see was the dark bags under your eyes and your messy greasy hair.

You perked up when two men in suits came in by the door in front of you, thin files in their hands and calculating glances. They were nicely dressed, one with a gray suit and the other, black. Both suits were obviously tailored to them. They sat down in front of you and observed you before the one in the gray suit spoke. Dark hair, blue eyes, taller than the other, maybe around six feet.

“Good morning, Agent”

You only nodded, looking down to the table.

“My name is Agent Baker,” He said. “My colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefing”

“Sure” You nodded again.

Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. “Please tell us again why you are here today”

“I am--” You paused, clearing your throat. “I am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardon”

“Which wanted criminal should that be?”

“The Red Hood” You said, meeting his eyes. “I have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.”

“How come you know all of this?” He asked, his voice neutral. “No seasoned agent has ever managed to get this close to him, let alone a rookie. We want to know how you gained his trust, start from the beginning, spare no details. Leave nothing out”

“I met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuania” You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. “I was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasn’t supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it ever…”

They had known you were coming. A whole grab and go operation had been compromised by the feeling of invincibility of the CIA, that looked down so much on whoever they went against that they never stopped to think that maybe--maybe--they were prepared.

So when the Alpha team stormed the country house where the General was supposed to be kept and found it empty, all action plans were thrown out the window. The Beta team was mobilised to close off all the roads surrounding the area and to search for the hostage. You were ordered to search a single decaying house in between two pine trees because the structure was so old, so nobody could have ever been hiding in its debris. However, as you were leaving, you heard whimpers coming from the cellar a few feet away from the foundations. Carefully, you made your way to the wooden doors on the ground, and after making sure your magazine was full and the safe of your semi automatic off, you kicked the doors open and raced down the stairs.

“Don’t move or I’ll blow your head off” You yelled, pointing your gun at the first person you saw. It was clearly a man, wearing a bright red helmet that shone under the single lightbulb hanging down from the ceiling. He slowly held up his hands, but he didn’t seem so bothered. Your eyes found another man next, tied to a chair and wearing a bag on his head. The military uniform was a dead giveaway of his identity, so you returned your full attention to the red helmet guy. “You’re going to back up and face the wall now”

“Or what?” He challenged. “You’ll ‘blow my head off’?”

“Shut up!” You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. “Do as I fucking say”

“You’re CIA uh?” He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didn’t seem worried at all by the situation he was in. “Should have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as they’re good pals with the good ol’ US of A right?”

“God would you just fucking shut up and back up” You were getting impatient, but also nervous. You were alone without backup, with a guy in a red helmet who was clearly taunting you, and you had never shot anyone before. It was your first oversea mission, and already it was fucking catastrophic.

“See, that’s the thing” He held a finger up. “You’re pointing a gun at me like I’m the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. You’re going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Florida’s golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles away”

You remained silent.

“Oh, did you not know about the mass graves?” He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. “Your friend here decided he wanted to test the new shipment of automatic weapons, because their bullets per minute capacity had been expanded. And what better targets than the group of students that opposed the american military presence in the country? The youngest was 16 and her name was Vera Beliskava. Isn’t that right, Kradiev?”

He pulled the hood from the general to reveal his bloodied and bruised face. He had been gagged and beaten, that was obvious. He looked at you, pleading.

“You’re the only one who saw” The man in red said, softer this time. “You don’t have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and I’ll make him disappear from the Earth's face permanently without leaving so much as a trace. Nobody else will know, and you will go to sleep knowing you made the world a better place”

You took a breath, a million thoughts running into your head. Who was that guy? Why was he here? Why did he not attack you, while he clearly had a handgun strapped on his thigh? Could he be right about Kradiev? You knew he didn’t have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves?

“Beta team, report”

You both froze as your comm broke the silence. He gave you a challenging look as you were still debating. You wanted to do good, that’s why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasn’t something you signed up on.

“Nothing to report on the north road”

“Clear in the valley”

“Farmer’s house empty”

“No traffic on the south road”

You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.

“Pinetree house’s clear” You spoke in a flat line, decided and direct as you lowered your gun. You shut down your comm and glanced at Kradiev, whose relief morphed into fear once again as your decision registered. You averted your eyes.

“You made the right choice”

“I hope so, or I’m dead” You mumbled. “I’m going back now. Don’t make me regret my decision”

“You won’t”

“So just to be clear,” Agent Baker frowned. “You just… Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?”

“When I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guilty”

“That was not your decision to make” He pointed out.

“I know” You sighed. “That was my first mistake. I-- I lost it for a moment. He mentioned the graves and the victims and there were so many people the same age as them I could think about and I decided with my feelings rather than my judgement. And I’m paying the price today”

“Alright” He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. “When did you cross paths with him again?”

“We were back in America” You continued. “By that time, I was no longer on training wheels. It was a little more than a year later, in Newport Oregon during operation 9004. We were busting a trans pacific drug dealer on the docks when we got unexpected company…”

You were running as well as you could through the maze of freight containers on the docks, trying to push back the pain of the bullet in your leg. You had drawn the fire of the hired gang so your colleagues could proceed, but things went down the drain when you were met with heavier fire than the briefing stated. Outnumbered and outran, you stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. You wouldn’t go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, you’d take as many of them as you could with you.

You reopened your eyes and checked the magazine of your gun, letting it drop on the ground and pushing a full one in. You loaded and clicked the safe off, flexing your fingers on the handle as footsteps surrounded you. You spun around and pulled the trigger, but before the bullet even reached your target, two men dropped on his side.

You weren’t the only shooter.

Thinking it was backup from your team, you allowed yourself to back up against a container, trying to stop the bleeding. You were starting to feel light headed, but you still had a bit more fight in you. Soon enough, all hostiles were down, and you were in for a surprise. Instead of the black uniform of your colleagues, you looked up to a red bat, a leather jacket and a familiar red helmet. You squinted your eyes and let out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Do I even wanna know?” You asked.

“I owed you one” He shrugged. “You okay?”

You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. “Peachy” You gave him a thumbs up. “You were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bag”

“It’s often the case” He said as he rested his hands on his hips.

“You here for Hiko?”

“Yep” He nodded, then snorted derisively. “Any tips?”

Ever since Kradiev, you have developed a habit of researching your target better. Most of the time, it was a capture or an execution on site, so it didn’t matter the extent of their crimes. But there were moments when you were extracting the package without knowing what came next, and those times usually meant they’ll make them disappear under a new identity, without giving them any repercussion for their actions. This one, Hiko, was the later case, without any plan revealed for when you get him back. He was a known drug trafficker, but he was also rumored to smuggle people back and forth between Asia and North America through the docks he owned. The Red Hood’s appearance was well timed, to say the least.

“Sneak past the squad through the east” You panted. “If you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, you’ll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure you’re gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him again”

He paused, studying you. “Thanks…” He trailed off. “Why are you telling me this again?”

“Well, you said it yourself” You managed to smirk. “If I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better place”

He didn’t answer with anything else but a quick nod before he climbed the containers and disappeared from your field of vision. You sighed, then reached for your comm. “Alpha 003 to central, I’m down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docks”

“So if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,” Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. “But you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t” You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Sorry. I’m just tired, it’s been a crazy last two days”

“Did he offer you any medical help then?” Baker returned on topic.

“No, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopper” You replied. “I knew he was there for Hiko, not for me. It was a coincidence we crossed paths, and at that point I thought it was the last time I’d see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistake”

“How so?”

“The CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own way” You said, locking eyes with Baker. “The guy’s everywhere, even where we don’t go. And he’s at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You don’t find him, he finds you. And that’s what he did”

“He contacted you after the affair on the docks?” He raised an eyebrow.

“We could say that...”

You finished washing your tea cup when you heard a thud coming in from your living room. Slowly, you grabbed the gun hidden in your cupboard and held it up, quietly making your way to the next room. You rounded the corner and pointed your gun to the man standing with his back to you, registering his identity as he turned around. You must have been a sight in your baby pink pajama shorts and mismatching turquoise tank top, pointing your handgun to a man in a shiny red helmet.

You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. “Breaking and entering, really?”

“Wouldn’t be the worst crime I’ve committed” He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. “How did you find me?”

“Like I find anyone” He answered like it was the simplest of evidence. You waited for him to continue, but he seemed to have no intention to reveal his methods. This time, you rolled your eyes. “And I’m here because I wanted to check on your leg”

“No you’re not” You snorted. He would have come months ago if it was about that, and even then, the little you knew about him told you he was not the kind to just check upon people who didn’t mean anything to him. “But I’m doing fine, thanks”

“You’re welcome” He nodded. “And you’re right. I need something from you”

“Well, go ahead, since you’re already in” You gestured at him to go on.

“Wait wait wait” Baker held his hand up. “He broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didn’t call anyone?”

“Yeah, that’s what I just said” You replied slowly.

“And it never occured to you that he was dangerous?”

You paused, thinking your answer over. “No, it didn’t. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy target”

“Fair point” Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker.

“Now do you want to know what happened or not?” You said, annoyed at the interruption.

“Please, go ahead”

He reached inside his jacket and handed you a file. You took it and opened it, staring at the picture and the description beside it. “This is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking market” He began. “Not only is he friends with your big bosses, but those who were brave enough to try and get him locked up never got anything to stick, and that was the best case scenario. The others either disappeared or ended up dead, so I’m assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stop”

You nodded. “What can I do for you?”

“There’s a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers there” He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. “The CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the card”

“I’m not sure I’m good enough to reach anywhere near it” You mumbled. “But sure, I’ll try”

“No, I believe in you” He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. “What I’m wondering though, is why you’re not asking questions”

“Well, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guy” You said after a moment. “You seem qualified to spot ‘em, and you’d be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so I’m guessing you’re on the mark again”

“Huh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent I’ve ever met”

You snorted. “Well, the more it goes the more I’m questioning the integrity of my employer”

“You keep impressing me”

“With what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start with”

“Keep talking like this and I might need a cold shower”

“You’re an ass, you know that?”

He let out a short bark of laughter. “If only you knew”

“I’ll do my best for the invitation” You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. “How can I contact you if I get it?”

He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. “This is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Don’t try and trace me with that, it won’t end well for you”

“Yeah yeah” You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. “I gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, I’m busted”

“Hey, listen” He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. “I make that threat to everyone. It’s only a disclosure thing, I didn’t doubt your motivation”

“To each their own I guess” You shrugged. “Alright. If this is all, please get out of my apartment”

“Oop, sure”

Baker blinked slowly. “And did you? Communicate him the details?”

“Yeah” You nodded. “I managed to get into the chief of operation’s office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Red”

“Red?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Short for Red Hood” Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldn’t speak anytime soon.

“He kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed man” You smirked, before dropping it instantly. “And I didn’t hear anything from Markstrom, it was like he disappeared for good, which he most likely did. So I guess the Red Hood succeeded in taking him down”

“Jesus Christ” He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Why do I have the feeling it wasn’t the last law you broke?”

“Because it wasn’t”

“Are you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?”

This time, you knew who had broken into your property without even looking. You put the keys into your car and turned the engine on, trying to warm yourself. The Red Hood pulled himself upright from your backseat, shaking his head.

“Your car is very comfortable,” He declared. “You have good taste”

“So that means yes”

“Back at it again with your superior deduction skills”

“What do you want?” You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker.

“I’ve been thinking this through,” He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. “You are skilled and you’ve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you might”

“Why do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?”

“Because I don’t just trust people” He said plainly. “They disappoint me, among other things”

“So why me?”

“Like I said, skills and balls of steel” He repeated. “You went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. That’s enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn away”

“Makes sense” You mumbled as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. He buckled his belt like it was a reflex. “Will this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?”

“If that’s what you wish for” He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. “I won’t be the one to limit you”

“Okay, yeah” You nodded. “Where do we start?”

Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. “I shouldn’t be surprised” He spoke after a moment. “But this is Everest high levels of stupid”

“At that time it did seem like a good idea”

“Yeah, might as well jump off of a bridge…” He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. “Did you do that too?”

“Well, if we consider the time when--”

“You know what, don’t tell me” He cut you off. “Please go on”

“Alright” You held your hands up in surrender. “So, where was I?”

You and the Red Hood operated on the field like a well oiled machine. Your expertise and contacts with the CIA helped him get into places way more easily than alone, and your somewhat reckless ways were compatible with his mode of operation. You knew who he was as well, you found out after he nonchalantly took off his helmet after a stakeout. You had not been prepared for what you saw then, when you were faced with what you could qualify with the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“Hey, you okay?” He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.

“Yeah” You replied. “I just wasn’t expecting this”

“Expecting what?”

“I mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes… Obviously I was wrong”

“So you think I’m hot then?” He snorted derisively.

“I do”

His head did a whiplash. “Huh?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” You backed away. “Sometimes my filter doesn’t work”

“No it’s--” He tried to find his words, then sighed. “I’m just not used to that, I guess”

“What’s the point of this?” Baker groaned, his head in his hands.

“It’s a turning point that brought me here today” You explained, turning your palm up briefly. “You asked for details, I’m giving you details”

“I kinda wanna know what went down, to be honest” Tanev added sheepishly.

“Tanev, I’m going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut up”

“Jeez sorry” He mumbled.

“As I was saying”

That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadn’t been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they weren’t looking, the unspoken invitations to stay a moment longer after a mission for a cigarette and a good conversation. He was one of a kind, you had to give that to him. He was passionate, driven, smart in a way that told you he never really had it easy but always made it work somehow; the way he always thought of the less obvious way to do things, how even his messes seemed calculated.

It was raining in Chicago and the air was crisp. Your muscles ached from the fight in that warehouse against drug lords that enrolled kids in their schemes, that and from the unforgiving cold of January. You had one too many whiskeys back in that little studio flat he rented under a false name, and it led you straight to his bed. Trying to find warmth, trying to find a connection, it didn’t matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him.

And it didn’t stop there. The night after, and the night after that, always in his company past the business hours. Your chemistry translated way beyond the field, for you found him in a partner in more ways than one. You grew quickly to feel love for him, more than you had ever felt for anyone. The number of times you woke up naked and tangled with him--

“Okay I don’t need to know this-- I do NOT need to know this” Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, you’re sure he would have.

“You told me to spare no details!” You argued. “This is a detail. I’m being as thorough as I can”

“You know what-- Forget it” He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. “Just get to the part we have interest in, for God’s sake please just skip to that”

“Okay, okay” You muttered, rolled your eyes. “It went well for the first months or so, it was great. Nothing to say on that front, I was happy and fulfilled in this new englobing partnership we had going on. That was my third mistake, to get into that kind of involvement with him. Because then, like all good things must come to an end, mine slowly began crumbling down in my hands”

“Okay” He sighed, half in relief. “Tell me more about that”

“Well, he started to show his true colors” You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. “Sometimes, he became something else. Something dark. And sometimes became most of the time, but I was too in love to see it. He became manipulative, controlling. He was everywhere, in everything I did. It’s like I didn’t even have control on my life anymore…”

“Where do you wanna eat?”

You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. “Dunno, where do you wanna eat?”

“Don’t really care” He shrugged too. “You decide”

“What about chipotle?”

“Sure” He nodded. “Chipotle sounds good”

Tanev shook his head sympathetically. “He wouldn’t even let you choose a restaurant?”

“Never” You looked down, sadness weighing your voice.

“I’m so sorry you had to live through that”

“Thank you”

“Alright, moving on” Baker broke the moment. “What happened next?”

“Next? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationships” You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. “We burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wake”

“That was poetic” He pointed out sarcastically. “What the fuck does it mean?”

You raised an eyebrow. “We got dangerous for real, Agent Baker” You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. “If you thought I was reckless before, you’ll need to reevaluate your scale. I was in for real. I was his battle horse, his wildcard, his whatever that he needed to succeed. And I was good at it. The worst was, I didn’t even realize he used me as a smoke screen. He put me more and more often in fucked up situations that were way more dangerous for me than him, and I was naive enough to think it was love”

“No. This is not up for discussion”

You stared at him in disbelief. “You said you would let me choose--”

“I said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killed” He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. “This plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. I’m not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.”

“Again, ‘if’ being the keyword” You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. “I am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, you’ve always told me I am”

He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. “I know you can, it’s not about that” His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myself”

You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. “Okay” You finally said, nodding lightly. “We’ll find another way. Another plan. But we’re hitting that ball out of the park either way, I won’t let Preston get away with it”

He smiled. “Oh no, we won't indeed” He kissed the top of your head. “We’ll get him one way or another, I promise”

“I almost feel sorry for you now, Agent” Baker gulped. “I cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefing”

“Of course” You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. “So we planned our next move, but he wouldn’t tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I don’t know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way out”

“And that plan was…”

“Yes” You didn’t have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. “So this brings us to 36 hours ago”

“Be as thorough as you can”

“So the Red Hood gave me those instructions to follow” You began. “I was to draw the attention of the authorities to me in a city wide chase. Now, I am rather good with a bike, that I won’t hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still don’t know how they got there, but it saved me. He would have never dared to come into the melee to get me back, and risk getting caught”

“Was he not afraid you’d talk to us?” Baker asked. “That was a pretty big gamble”

“He thought I wouldn’t talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this time” You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. “Because I believed I loved him”

“I guess that wouldn’t be too far fetched” He hummed. “Wouldn’t be the first time we saw it happen”

You nodded, remaining silent. Baker made eye contact with Tanev, then looked into the reflecting glass. He took a deep breath and returned his attention to you.

“We are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this information” He said. “But once we do that, you’ll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement states”

“Thank you”

“Just one more thing before we wrap this debriefing” He leaned forward. “You must know his name"

“Of course”

“Then what is it?” He asked. “What is the Red Hood’s name?”

You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke.

-- 36 hours later --

The sunset over the valley was gorgeous. The mixes of pink and orange on the yellowed sky was straight out of a fantasy world, and Jason couldn’t help but appreciate the scenery. It was soothing, like it could swallow up his anxiety at least for a minute or two. He leaned on the wooden ramp, the sightseeing roadside station seeming not so cheesy at the moment.

He only tore his eyes from the burning sun when he heard a motorcycle approach from behind. He pushed himself off the ramp and faced the sleek black bike--the lack of use on it showing him it was brand new--then, the driver with a black tinted visor.

You took off your helmet and smiled at Jason’s stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

You walked past him and leaned on the ramp he had been on moments ago, and he joined you. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. He lit up both with his lighter, and you took a long draft before speaking.

“A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice” You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. “I did save your sweet ass, after all”

“I thought we agreed not to do that” He glanced at you sideways. His annoyance was also mixed with playful disbelief, like he both wanted to throw you off the cliff you were admiring the view from and do celebratory shots with you.

“We did” You nodded, chuckling. “But circumstances changed. You weren’t out by the time I reached the monument, so I had to draw them away from you, or we would not be having this conversation. ”

“Still” He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. “Wait, did you call the secret services after yourself?”

You shrugged half heartedly. “Mayhaps” Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. “I mean, it kinda was my fault too. I misplaced the bomb and it barely detonated. I had to flip to plan B, then they shot my bike. They had me surrounded, and my it was running low on life, so I skipped directly to plan fuck this”

“So you gave yourself up”

"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedom” You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “None of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry not”

“They must have asked for a name” He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. “What did you tell them?”

“My grandpa’s name” You snorted. “He died two decades ago. Let me tell you, when they found out the last update on him was in the necrology of the 2001 Sunday paper, they were not happy campers”

“Then how did you get out?” He squinted his eyes.

“Oh, do not underestimate me, sweetheart” You grinned. “I’ve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cake”

You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies you’ve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldn’t be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun.

“Hey wait” You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. “This wasn’t there last time”

He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didn’t see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. “What wasn’t there before?” He asked, annoyed.

You smiled. “You”

With a quick jab of your elbow behind his head, he fell down unconscious on the floor. You grabbed his keycard and exited the cell, locking the guard in. You winked at the camera on the upper left corner of the hallway and made your way down to the garages as the alarms blared through the whole building. That meant it entered lockdown, closing all the escape routes. But you had your own fool proof plan.

Agent Baker began swearing when the hallway was plunged into the red glow of the lockdown alert. It hadn’t taken long for him to figure out you had led them in circles, and he had appeared a fool in front of his colleagues when he proudly revealed the name of a long deceased old man instead of anything tangible. He had been on his way to your cell when he realized the depth of this foolery, understanding you had been stalling them for this opportunity.

“Sir, we are reporting engine noises in the garages”

“Fuck” Baker shouted, pushing the other man aside. Tanev was a step behind, his weapon drawn. They had stored your bike there, you must have gone back for it. “All units report to the garage, we’re having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garages”

They all flocked to the lower levels, ready to enforce the barrages at the doors and trap you with no exit. It was an excellent execution of emergency measures, but they definitely weren’t prepared for what came next. As they kicked the storage unit of your motorcycle, they came face to face with the bullet ridden bike with no driver in sight. Baker lowered his gun, squinting his eyes. Then, they widened comically as the dark smoke coming out of it and the strong smell of gasoline registered in his brain.

“Motherfucker” He spat. “Everybody out!”

Seconds later, it exploded.

“You’re unbelievable” Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. “I gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steel”

“Of course it was!” You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. “And it’s not even the best part, look”

You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIA’s chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. “You got Preston?”

You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. “The bike opened a window big enough for me to get the target” You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. “And with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, t’was easy enough”

“After all this time, you’re still impressing me” He nodded, holding up his fist. “Good fucking job”

You bumped your fist sideway with his, laughing at his baffled expression. The sky was getting darker and darker by the minute, but the air was still warm. You could hear the crickets in the high grass, and the silence was a peaceful one. You could admit that you had cut it close this time, that this gamble could have very well turned to shit, so you just took a moment to let the pressure slip away from your muscles, at least for now. You had the time to smoke another cigarette before you spoke.

“So now what?” You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. “Markstrom’s ring is no more, and I’m pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence services’ most wanted list”

“Well, that’s nothing a good ol’ fake death can’t fix” He shrugged. “But until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, I’m sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?”

You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. “I say let’s get to it”

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #dc #dcu #dc universe #dc imagine #dcu imagine #dc universe imagine #batfam #batfam imagine #imagine #jason todd x you #outlaws

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elegantwizardtree · 3 years

Text

not the brother she wanted but the brother she needed

takes place during the Halloween episode of wandavision

"Hey, sis don't sweat it, it's not like your dead husband can die twice!" At that moment, Pietro knew he would regret ever saying that sentence because no sooner did those words leave his mouth was he sent flying backward and into the wall. He tried with all his might to get up and move, but no such luck, so the speedster remained lying there on the ground, waiting for the red wiggles to lift off.

"Boy's, I need you two to run home for me, I'll take care of your father... And your uncle, but right now, you don't need to be here for that." Wanda stated firmly as she carefully turned the twins around and gently pushed them towards the direction of their home.

Once the boys had indeed disappeared in a grey blur, Wanda turned and marched her way over to the man pretending to be her brother. She had a nerve to pick with him, but not right now, she needed to attend to her husband first. "I am not finished with you." She grunted out, pointing a slim finger down towards the man laid out before her. She didn't even let the imposter speak before she lifted off into the air and towards the struggling energy of Vision.

Once her focus on saving Vision and expanding on the hex had been completed, Wanda found herself slowly walking towards the spot she had left her brother. The man had fallen asleep between the hour she had thrown him into the wall and now, the peaceful look on the man's face caused her to pause. He looked tired, much more tired than she was used to seeing him being. In the days that this man had shown up at her doorstep and called her couch home, Wanda had never seen such a look on his face. She was puzzled.

So, with a gentle wave of her hands, she let the red threads of her magic dissipate, no longer did they hold the blond man down. And instead of immediately awakening the stranger, she began to inspect him more closely, trying to point out all the differences between him and her twin. The most obvious was the face, and his hair, when he first showed up was completely silver, it wasn't the dyed drained out looking grey that it was now, but the exact color of silver. It struck Wanda as odd, and the tattoo on his should. Her own Pietro didn't have a tattoo, they hadn't the money for one, the only "tattoo" he had, that they both had were the numbers on their wrist. The numbers Hydra associated the two with.

Moving on from his features, she spotted the necklace that he had come with. It was no longer hanging from his neck, but broken. The impact he had made with the wall must've caused the beads to break and to scatter all over the place. It was kind of a relief to see because Wanda hadn't liked it. The feeling she had gotten from it when her armed had brushed against it one day to pull her brother into a hug was rather disturbing. The energy was off-putting and she had nearly pushed him away from her when she felt it.

Before she could focus more on the broken, scattered beads, a low grunt sounded from before her, and slowly blinking brown eyes looked up at her in confusion.

Pietro had awakened and it was time to get to business.

"I- wait, where am I? And who're you!" The alarmed voice of a confused and scared man yelled out. The imposter was frantic and looking about himself in a daze as if he couldn't focus on anything around him. His fingers blurred in an image of pale white as if he was trying to busy himself to calm him down. It pulled at Wanda's heart for some odd reason. Whatever she had done to this man who had claimed to be her brother had caused some strange form of a memory wipe.

"You're in Westview," Wanda was cut off at the pained look that flashed upon the stranger's face. Something about her words seemed to have greatly upset him, and his brown eyes immediately began to water, "Westview, New Jersey. I'm Wanda, Wanda Maximoff you've been staying with me and my family for the past week... Do you mind telling me who you are?" Wanda gently asked as she was careful to take a seat before the distressed man who froze up as soon as her name had crossed her lips. She wasn't sure why, but she was confident she would have that exact reaction once he stayed his.

"I'm Peter, Peter Maximoff and why are you claiming to be my dead sister! Why am I in New Jersey instead of New York! I don't remember- why don't I remember how I got here?!" Peter was panicking now, his breathing was becoming ragged and hard, his fingers had gone up into his hair and began to pull violently. "And why, why do I have memories that aren't my own!" He sobbed out as he fell over onto his side and continued to tug, tugging as if he continued it would get the unwanted images from his mind.

At this point Wanda was worried, she didn’t know what to do, and was honestly extremely terrified. It's been so long since she's held someone down from an attack like this. Her brother had had one shortly their battle with Ultron and then she could barely do anything but helplessly watch. Her twin had gotten into a habit of running through his tears, and she had expected the same from this one, from Peter who ultimately was convinced he was a Maximoff. So, in an attempt to ground him, Wanda carefully reached into his head and plucked out the happiest memory to play with him, and it was on she found happy to share with him.

DC 1965

Peter was smiling happily to his left. A little girl with red hair and faint dust freckles across her cheeks smiled just as brightly at Peter. Her front teeth were missing and they stood at the side of a hospital bed, both seeming to jump in excitement, more so the girl than her brother. Peter was vibrating in excitement.

"Be quiet now, your sister is sleeping." A tired woman sounded from the bed. In her arms she held a baby wrapped in a white blanket, a newborn, Wanda had noticed, obviously a new addition to the small family.

"Can't help it, Ms. Maximoff's just been born!" The young Peter cheered softly as he funky slowed down to take a look at the baby his mother was moving over towards his sister's waiting arms. The red-haired little girl tensed up slightly before gently taking her sister into her arms. She was scared to hold her.

"Now, Pietro, be patient, don't want you getting too excited and accidentally dropping your sister now, do we?" Silver hair fell into the young boy's face as he shook his head, an obvious frown rooted deeply upon his face as the boy looked down at his converse-covered feet.

His sister, Wanda, had soon placed the baby in a now still Pietro's arms and laughed softly as the boy immediately froze up.

The soft laughed seemed to echo on as the memory faded. The Wanda not from those memories gasped softly as she came too, it was beautiful memory to watch, but also felt too painful to have brought forth on her own.

Peter's cries had now stopped, his fingers which had been painful pulling at his dishwater grey hair had long since stopped, now they laid out of the hard grown before him.

The two sat in silence for some time, neither wanting to speak up before the other. One feeling too guilty for entering the mind of the other and the other, the other still trying to work past the emotions of a brother who'd been dead to this world for years.

"I think I know why you're here." Wanda soon broke the deafening silence as she smoothed out the material of her jeans. She had been working on this conclusion every since she had picked through Peter's mind in the search for that one memory. Without meaning to she had touched upon several others, others that pointed to Peter being her brother and towards his twin being herself, it was a thought that seemed too far fetched, but after experiencing the strange powers of the Doctor during the final battle against Thanos greatly helped back up her conclusion.

"I think. I think you're from another universe. One in which you too have lost your sibling. I'm not sure how you did, I wasn't brave enough to go searching that far, but obviously in a way so traumatic that it pulled you through and to me. I have lost everyone and, and before this place, before Westview I called out for someone, anyone willing to listen." Wanda looked down in shame, her hair falling to cover her face as she began to cry. She didn't want to see the look on this man's face. He had his own life, his grief and pulling him away from it, unwilling at that, still made Wanda feel guilty. Guilty enough to try her hardest to send him back, but before she could even bring the option up, he had spoken.

"It sounds crazy, yeah, but I'm down with that. Hell, I've just lived through two whole decades with you within, what, a week? I can get past the whole, "being from a whole nother universe" all fine and dandy, and I... It's starting to come back to me, but I don't think it was you who- well okay, no scratch that out, it was originally you, I fell through and into the arms of one Agent Woo, and then boom, purple surrounded me and... Well, I don't remember much after that." Peter shrugged his shoulders and began to play with the torn strands of them jean shorts he was wearing. He had a scared smile across his lips, but he was still willing to look at his sister.

"I've been through a lot from where I'm from. And you've been through a lot from what I've seen on your brother's end, and the shit list of that has probably been expanded upon greatly! But, until we figure out how to get me back home," Peter paused and pulls Wanda into a hug. He holds the shaking woman to his chest and places a gentle kiss upon the crown of her head, "I'm going to be the twin that you need. Because we aren't supposed to live our lives without the other half. It feels like an empty gaping hole in my heart without my Wanda, and I bet you feel the same way about your Pietro."

Wanda wrapped her arms around Peter, pulling him just as close to herself as he had her, and he was right, nothing felt right without Pietro, she had been living her life pretty much in a hollow shell ever since her brother had so recklessly thrown himself before Clint as a shield and part of her, part of her will never forgive him for leaving her in this cruel world to fend for herself, but another part, another part couldn't be more proud of the hero he had become in his last living moments.

"Of course," She spoke weakly and hid her face against Peter's neck as she began to shake even harder. This was a hug she hadn't felt in years, it may be coming from someone who wasn't her brother, but the love and comfort that came from the contact felt the same. It felt like home, it felt like being whole once again.

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thespit · 2 years

Text

Thoughts on the indie manga scene 2/2

The infrastructure problem links into the issue of curation. Building a publication takes a long time though it is certainly possible, and if this were the only obstacle I would not consider it much of a problem. But it loops back in with curation, because as it has been seen in the western comic book industry, it is full of "meddlers"- more precisely, it's people abusing influence and power in order to have their own work published, whether readers actually want that sort of thing, or not. In the end, it takes a lot of resources to publish physical copies of books. Without an audience willing to pay, you have no growth. The final roadblock to a successful manga industry in the west is at last barricaded by our own lack infrastructure with capital to pay working artists. Patreon is a great tool for growing artists, however artists themselves have to competitively advertise and market their own work which is exceedingly difficult if you are not already a company with the resources to advertise. As horrible as publishers are when it comes to paying artists in Japan, it's practically impossible to advertise and market your own work yourself the same way publishers do. Getting seen is hard, even when you have companies to work with. In many ways, I would consider it a necessary evil. It's also true that often times mangaka will need to take up second jobs in addition to drawing, though not always. But here in the west it makes it that much harder for budding artists to be consistant with production. This is probably why you will find little to no one working on a mangaka's work schedule, whether weekly or monthly. It is so time and energy consuming, and most people have lives to live outside of drawing which makes no money. Being observant of manga artists around the internet, I have seen a handful of them with very skillfully made, great stories. In fact, one person I kept my eye on went on to win a few awards, and they are continuing on in their success. I watched them go from little to no acknowledgement for five or more years, to full recognition from industry professionals. Without giving people acknowledgement based on merit, there would be no industry of any kind. Why should manga be any different? I can't say exactly what the future holds for the state of the industry. Manga's exploding popularity in the west within the last 10 years has had a clear influence on people to the point where we're starting to see the rise of these indie publications for the first time. Despite that, as pessimistic as it sounds I have a lot of hangups in regards to it becoming anything more than a niche market than something to rival the likes of Marvel, DC, or even other "smaller" publications such as Image or Dark Horse. Of course I have to think about these things very seriously. I've been trying to put together a series for nearly 10 years with all kinds of roadbumps, lifewise, skillwise, etc. At some point I have to be allowed to say that I am doing something few people are really able to accomplish even in webcomic circles, which is not necessarily a gloat, but truth be told most people are not going to do it for free even if it's not for anyone but themselves. So I am a little crazy. The ability to meet strict deadlines is an asset for both artists and publishers, so I have to be on the lookout for new opportunities as well as consider what the future may have in store. I always happen to wonder when or if I will ever find my own spotlight.

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awesomerextyphoon · 3 years

Text

A Warrior’s Heart | Phase 1: Welcome – 3

A Hero’s Welcome?

Summary: When someone with a connection to Steve’s past dies, he’s reminded of the promise he made to Dr. Erskine and whether or not he’s failed. Can Ife help him see that he hasn’t?

Characters: Steve Rogers, Ifekerenma ‘Ife’, Abraham Erskine (mentioned), Marlene Erskine (mentioned), Nick Fury, Eliza Maza, Azeneth Ramirez

Main Pairing: Stucky x Black!OFC (Ifekerenma ‘Ife’)

Rating: 18+/Explicit

Word Count: 5,801

Warnings: Depression, Talk of Death, Slightly Cynical Steve, Politics, Smutty Thoughts

A/N: I’m sorry that this so long. I really wanted to try something different with Erskine and the time around CA:TFA. Also, I wanted to explore how Steve would be feeling right after AoU (little bit of a downer, but it will get better). Furthermore, this story will diverge a bit from MCU in terms of Steve’s and Bucky’s abilities. Feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated. Dividers were by the lovely @firefly-graphics. Thanks to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for the beta!

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

<<Previous

Early June 2015

“What do you have to report, Ifekerenma?”

Ife pursed her lips together,”Wanda is doing well with her training. Djamila and Nazaret had some sung her praises during their first session.”

It took a few days to convince the team and Fury to let her friends train Wanda. Luckily Nat had her back and Wanda was able to show the compound how much she improved from what Ife was able to teach her. Unfortunately, Azeneth was unable to make it due to being tied up with a BNA mission and relocating to the NYC division.

“That’s good to hear. Have you made made any progress with the others?”

Ife’s eyes casted down in thought. Vision was a no-go for now. Pietro was warming up to her, but he thought she was still suspicious (wasn’t wrong). She didn’t want to try Rhodey yet (too close to Tony). Nat was..difficult; she’ll try again later.

“I’m going to try Steve next. He seems like a safe bet, even with the serum. Hopefully, he won’t catch before it’s time. I will need Erskine’s folder though.”

Eliza’s lips turned upward in a small smile, “Agreed. I’ll have it sent to you within the hour. Best of luck, Ife.”

And with that, Ife got dressed and headed towards the common room.

Steve leaned back and clasped his hands together behind his head in thought and vexation.

The 21st century must be fucking with him.

Right after Operation ‘Captain Briar Rose’, Steve went to Brooklyn. He could barely find any trace of his old neighborhood. The apartment complex where he and his mother lived was now a ritzy condominium with a Starbucks on the ground level.

All of the places he’d go with Bucky were now soulless veneers filled with empty promises of ‘happiness’ or ‘self-esteem’.

He remembered the time Bucky bailed him out of yet another beating by Arnie and his gang back in 1928. His mother berated him for getting in yet another fight while Bucky’s mom laughed and treated them to ice cream from the local sweets parlor. Bucky’s sisters – Rebecca, Rose, and Annabelle – were making a fuss and bursted out in giggles when Annabelle got ice cream in Bucky’s hair. It was one of the best days that year.

A T-Mobile now stands in its place.

All of his friends and comrades save Bucky and Peggy are dead; he nearly bawled in the middle of briefing when found out that Timothy ‘Dum Dum’ Dugan died and had a cry alone in his quarters afterwards.

Felt shitty about the current state of the country. It seemed as though everything has gotten worse. He found out about the Gulf, Afghanistan, and Iraq Wars. How income and wealth inequality has somehow gotten as bad as, if not worse, than the Gilded Age. Corruption has turned DC and NYC into dog and pony show.

He was furious at all of the politicians and corporations that wanted him to endorse them or their actions. They wanted Captain America’s helmet and shield to mask their heinous acts. They were the same if not worse than Senator Brandt.

Some days Steve wished SHIELD let him stay in the ice. Even worse, there were days he felt that Captain America was for an America that never was.

Nowadays, he felt even more like an anomaly.

It started when he got out of the ice. He felt a lot stronger and faster; only Thor knew the extent of it and he has to hold back a lot when fighting for fear of government asking for more of his blood. Though he suspected Ife and Natasha might be onto him.

He was a lot hungrier than before he went on ice as well. Often time, he would have late night ‘dinners’ (now it's every night), To be honest, he was a bit embarrassed at how much he ate, though the thought of pinning the blame on Ife did cross his mind. It wouldn’t work due to Ife almost never eating with the team and Sam said that he would know if Ife was the culprit. Steve suspected that Ife has been using her connections to restock the food between when he retired to his quarters and before the rest of the team came for breakfast. Also, she kept leaving him fun pop culture facts and media recommendations for the night.

Steve didn’t feel he could go to Dr. Cho since he doubted she had anything to go on in his case.

He did wonder if Ife could help him. She seemed to like helping the team and she was knowledgable about Non-Humans. Wanda’s rapid improvement in her powers and control bolstered his decision.

Sighing, Steve sat up straight in his chair and picked up the letter he received that morning. Marlene Philomena Erskine had passed away and he was invited to her funeral.

It was sad to have yet another link to his past slip from his grasp.

Steve was finishing up another book to fight off his jitters. It was the night before the operation and he needed to have a few moments of respite from the war.

He was so engrossed in what he was reading that he failed to notice Dr. Erskine entering.

Erskine, for his part, was eyeing several books in Rogers’ makeshift bookshelf: They Odyssey, Of Mice and Men, Murder on the Orient Express, Tender is the Night, Their Eyes Were Watching God, Homage to Catalonia, and To Have and have Not.

“What do you think of the book?” Erskine asked as he sat across the startled recruit.

“Just finished. Y’think it wise to get buzzed before a major operation, sir?” Steve noted when he saw the bottle and two shot glasses on the bed.

Erskine chucked, “Calms my nerves a bit. What did you think of the book?”

Steve pressed his lips together for a moment, “It was a good read. The book had a lot of good points for something written eleven years ago.”

“What truths?”

“Well, for one thing, how technology is used to make the populace happy, but not better. The World Government found a way to get people to willingly trade self-expression, self-awareness, and their happiness for cheap happiness and comfort. Makes you wonder if the US was next, you know?”

Erskine was taken aback by his answer. It was much deeper than most of commanding officers gave if they even read the book.

Though that last sentence was interesting.

“What do you mean next?”

“Isn’t that what happened in Germany?”

Erskine sighed, “Yes and no. Most people here think Hitler came out of nowhere, but he didn’t. Not everyone in Germany was for WWI. There was a 100,000 person march in Berlin, but it didn’t matter since the Social Democratic Party failed to rise to the occasion and went along with war effort. Many were scapegoated for Germany failure, Matthias Erzberger for instance.”

“What about the Weimar Republic?”

Once again, Erskine was taken aback by Steve’s knowledge, “Weimar Germany was a great place to be creative, curious, and make new discoveries. I met my wife, Greta, in Berlin during that time. I made a lot of friends, friends I had to leave behind.”

Erskine frowned as his face darkened,”The terrible thing, my friend, was not that Hitler was dangerous, it was that either people didn’t take him as the threat he was or they wanted to use him for their own ends. The cops and judges sympathized with the Nazi Party to get one over the Socialists and Communists. Industrialists wanted to make money off of the Nazis getting into power. Even the German and International newspapers didn’t cover him with the urgency required.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Ja, and it almost happened here, didn’t it?”

Steve nodded in reference to the America First movement and the German American Bund. He still remembers getting the crap beaten out of him by the Silver Shirts when he spoke out against them a few years ago.

“So why did you choose me?”

“I suppose that is the best question.” Erskine admitted while glancing at Steve’s bookshelf, “What do you think of the Odyssey?”

Steve shrugged, “The adventures were fun, but they were just fantasy.”

“They may not be, Mein Freund. How old do you think I am?”

“Uh, mid sixties?”

Erskine laughed, “You’re too kind. I will be 94 this September,” he smiled noting Steve’s shock, “Things are not always as they seem. I come from a long line of ‘healers’ dating back to before Rome. One of them was able to ‘make a man more’. They inspired me to go into this profession.”

“Making super soldiers?”

“Medicine and bio-chemical engineering.”

“Oh”

“Did you know that you will not be first to undergo this?”

“Who was?”

“His name was Konrad Jager. He was a lot like you: small, frail, but had a great deal of courage and compassion. He was willing to fight Nazis in the streets knowing he’d lose. One day in 1930, his parents begged me to save him as the doctors had given up all hope.

I was woking on a serum that would make the body impervious to all diseases rather than wait for the next outbreak to occur. I thought it would propel the medical field.

The trial worked and he was healed. He became much taller and broader in size as a result.”

Erskine pulled out a picture of himself next to a tall, well-built young man.

“That’s Konrad isn’t it?”

“Yes. I was able to help eight more people through the earlier version of the serum. All but one turned out well.”

“What happened to the one?”

“Ah yes, Eren Kant. He was a shy young man before the serum, but then became more like Hodge: a philander, arrogant, and bit of a bully with a temper. He ‘grew too big for his britches’ as one would say and was arrested by the Munich police. He let his arrogance blind him and he escaped in a way that intrigued Der Fuhrer and was taken to Berlin soon after. By this time, rumors had spread of my work and the Nazis were anxious to be the ‘best of the Aryans’. They were able to get my whereabouts from Eren and sent Schmitt to fetch me, but I was already on my way to Switzerland when he reached my home.”

“How did he get you?”

Erskine slightly jerked his head to the side and back, “A year prior to my attempted escape, I met a man in Geneva who warned of the dangers that lied in Berlin. He gave me his card if I needed to escape. In retrospect, I shouldn’t have waited so long before I made the phone call. I was tipped off by an old colleague of Eren entering Nazi custody.

Everything was set. My family and I were to enter Switzerland by crossing Lake Constance. We made it to Meerburg and the lake was in sight when Schmitt and his agents cut us off.

Schmitt believed that there was a power left behind by the gods. He believed himself to be a leader of a new race of men. He wanted me to ‘perfect the serum’, make him stronger than Eren. He had my children, Klaus and Marlene, taken to the outskirts of town as insurance implying that they would be sent to Dachau if I should fail.

I stalled for as long as I could hoping Schmitt would forget about me, but it was not meant to be. A few years after I was taken hostage, Schmitt stormed into my lab and pointed a gun to Greta demanding I give him the serum.”

“Did it make him stronger than Eren?”

“It did, but it had...side effects. The serum was not ready. Schmitt’s skin turned red and his face became so disfigured that Hitler called him the Red Skull. He killed Greta with his bare hands,” Erskine wiped away a few tears, “and ordered Marlene and Klaus to be sent to Dachau while I was banished to the dungeons.

Fortunately, Agent Carter and the SOE were able to save Marlene and myself. Though Klaus sacrificed himself when the agents could only save one of them.”

“Your son is a hero.”

“I only wish I could’ve told him that myself. But, back to your original question. I chose you because, like Konrad, you are a weak man. You see, the serum amplifies everything; good becomes great and awe-inspiring, bad becomes worse and a nightmare. Men who are strong their entire lives often do not value strength and abuses it. However, a weak man who is compassionate and brave will use it to help others. You were chosen because you had the aforementioned virtues and because you use your mind.

The world does not need perfect soldiers, look where that has gotten us. No, what we need right now are good men.”

Erskine poured out two shots and gave a glass to Steve.

Steve raised his glass, “To the little guys.”

The liquor was just about to touch his lips when Erskine snatched the glass from him, “What are you doing? You have an operation tomorrow. No fluids.”

Steve chuckled as Erskine bid him farewell and good luck tomorrow.

Ife found Steve in the Common Room hunched over a chair with a letter in his hands. Emotional echoes of gloom came off in waves as she approached him.

“Whatcha looking at, Steve?”

When Steve didn’t respond, she gently placed a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong?”

Steve finally turned to Ife, “I received an invite to a funeral. It’s for Marlene Philomena Erskine, Dr. Abraham Erskine’s daughter.”

Ife nodded in understanding; he feels that he failed Marlene by not protecting Dr. Abraham Erskine.

But in fact, he didn’t fail her.

She lived quite the life for a human.

Not long after her father’s assassination, Marlene became a badass mechanical engineer and physicist. Her designs and schematics for transportation vehicles and energy storage/distribution gave the colonizer nations a fighting chance during the Wars Against Colonialism.

Though part of it was because the UA was a little cocky at that point. Marlene sure lit a fire under their ass! Ife can still hear her Aunt Eziamaka pouting at the news of one of UA bases nearly falling into their control.

Marlene’s assistance with the war effort didn’t last long as her gratitude towards the people who saved both her and her father wasn’t enough to overlook the Military’s treatment of some her colleagues.

Her life from there was pretty standard. She became a professor at MIT, got married and had a few kids.

BNA took her off the ‘humans of special interest’ list in 1971.

Thinking back on it, Marlene may have had a better life by her father not making it past WWII.

Though Ife thought it would be wise not to mention this to Steve.

“When is the funeral?”

Steve didn’t raise his head, “It’s in a week.”

“In that case, might I accompany you?”

“Yes...and thank you.”

“No Problem! See you later.” Ife wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug and went on her way leaving Steve slightly bewildered.

Steve didn’t know what to make of Ifekerenma.

She was always asked the team how they were feeling at what seemed to be the right moment. Shoot, she even talked to custodial staff that few of ever acknowledge. Compassionate to nearly everyone, especially the child hostages during the last mission.

She’s nerdy to the point of Sam jokingly calling her a weeb (anime lover?) when she walked around in an oversized Cowboy Bebop t-shirt once. Wanda mentioned a ‘digital friend’ in her room and caught her mentioning how slow Stark’s tech was much to the amusement of team at Tony’s expense.

Steve’s certain Nat sent Clint a video of the whole thing.

Also, she was what Sam called a ‘Supreme Chef’. He contently patted his midsection remembering the feast she prepared for the team last night. Her cooking would’ve put some of Stark’s gourmet chefs to shame. She asked the team what they liked and she ended up having to create a dinner rotation. Steve was especially touched when she went to an antique bookstore for a recipe that was close to what his mother would’ve made for him.

Furthermore, she would leave out little homemade treats/ snacks at night. Pietro and Sam would sneak some when they thought no one was looking. She even giggled when he accidentally let out a huge belch after an amazing dinner a couple nights ago saying it’s a sign of thanks on her home planet, Avlenia.

Ife always called him Steve; not ‘Captain’ or ‘Cap’ or even ‘Good ol’Century Virgin’ (damn it, Tony!). She never made light of him ‘taking an ice nap’ or asking him about the 1940s in a demeaning way like some reporters and ‘little upstarts on social media’. Somehow, Ife found out about his love of drawing and got him art supplies with a list of recommended artists

She made him feel more like a person and not a symbol or a far off figure who’s emotionless.

Steve felt warm whenever he was around her in a way not unlike Bucky or Peggy though much more like Bucky. She seemed to sense that he was desperate to truly be seen in way that only Sam and sometimes Nat has.

It also didn’t hurt that she was a total knockout. He had the, ahem, pleasure of seeing her out of her uniform and training outfits a few times. She usually wore clothes that were more on the modest side...except for that one time when she wore a Sailor Moon crop top and high-waisted shorts as a dare from Nat. Half of the compound was staring and Steve spent most of the day in his quarters nursing a hard on he was so aroused.

And yet, Ife was one of the toughest women he knew; even Nat was a little scared of her (at least, he thinks). She might be the strongest person physically and she doesn’t take shit from people who badmouth her or the team; Agent Roussel learned that the hard way.

All in all, Ife was...something else, someone he wanted to get close to.

The day of Marlene’s funeral started out well enough.

Ife spent the early morning making Sam’s request of cinnamon rolls, sausage, omelettes, waffles, and hash browns since he won the raffle of Vision’s turn as he doesn’t eat.

She was handing out everyone’s first servings (didn’t care what happened afterwards) when she felt Steve’s emotional echoes of depression, melancholy, and despair noting how his eyebrows furrowed and how tense his body language was.

She just hoped she could get to him.

Steve was walking to garage hoping his outfit wasn’t too much.

Nat somehow convinced him into wearing a Highbridge Black Custom Suit with an Eastley Dobbey Blue Shirt, a Black Solid Tie, a Navy Blue Pocket Square, and Ink Black Dress Shoes.

He ‘upped the swoon dial’ as Nat put it. Could’ve sworn he heard Sam snickering.

Steve reached the entrance hoping not to keep Ife waiting when he heard clicking of heels behind him.

He turned around to find Ife looking almost unearthly.

She was wearing a black Ankara (?) dress with a cape that was black on the outside and golden on the inside with various blue, silver, and khaki rectangle clusters. Her hair was mostly contained in a wrap with a few strands framing her lovely face. Her full, plump lips were coated in a Light Plum (?) Matte Lipstick and she wore minimal gold eye shadow.

Her outfit did a splendid job of hinting at her voluptuous curves without needlessly flaunting them like the women who throw themselves at him at press tours.

Ife smiled at him and asked which car were they taking.

Steve motioned to one of the Black SUVs and the two of them strapped in for the three hour car ride.

Ife sighed and gazed out the window at the scenery. Neither one of them had said anything in the past twenty minutes. Steve wasn’t a fan of most of the music that’s on the radio despite Sam’s best efforts. Ife had to break out her puppy dog eyes to get him to let them listen to some instrumental music from her favorite movies.

It seemed that they weren’t going to say anything until Steve cleared his throat.

Ife, not wanting to suffer in silence, decided break it, “How did you know Marlene?”

Steve raided his eyebrows for a split second, “I didn’t. I just feel like I should pay my respects, you know? I mean, I should attend the daughter of the man I failed’s funeral.”

The last sentence struck a chord with Ife. Emotional echoes of despair hit her like a tsunami.

Tentatively, Ife continued, “How did you fail Erskine?”

“I-I don’t think I’ve fulfilled my promise to him. The country has changed so much since I was on ice. It’s funny; I thought that Brave New World would only have a one of two aspects come to life, but I didn’t see nearly the whole book being right.”

Ife didn’t argue with the last two points. The US was nothing but a never-ending commercial sometimes. People were too busy being ‘happy’ or trying to get the newest thrill to realize that they were living in a sham of a republic.

Though she was concerned about the first sentence.

“What was the promise you made to Erskine? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Steve turned slightly, “To be true to who I am; a good man, not a perfect soldier. To be more like Konrad.”

Ife nodded musing on his answer. Erskine would want everyone he helped to be a good person considering the dangers of such power.

Though she wondered if she knew Dr Abraham’s full history.

Abraham Erskine came from a long line of Homo Magis who specialized in Alchemy . He turned to science when it was clear that his magical powers would never manifest (being only 1/16 Homo Magi). Erskine started working on what would become the Super Soldier Serum in 1920 after the witnessing the horrors of WWI firsthand as a medic.

He made a breakthrough in 1927 when he found what looked to be an old power cell in the attic of his childhood home. Turns out it was a modified Atlantean battery dating back to the 1600s, but whatever.

Konrad Jager was the first of nine volunteers; most of whom went on to fight in the Spanish Civil War with the International Brigades and be part of the German Resistance’s Special Forces during WWII.

Needless to say, they were recruited into BNA’s European Division.

Only Eren Kant was deemed a failure in the end.

Ife shook her head at the info in Erskine’s folder.

Eren was pompous dumbass who broke himself out jail by bending/breaking the bars of his cell after getting arrested for being a player and bully by the Munich Police in August of 1935. His show of superhuman strength got Erskine’s work onto the Hitler’s radar. BNA had to send a cleaner to ‘handle’ Eren before he could get everyone in even more trouble.

She wondered if Konrad and the others would make an appearance.

“What do mean by not staying true to yourself?”

Steve sighed, “It seemed a lot easier to do so in my time.”

Ife wanted to go further, but she couldn’t. Steve was punishing himself up for something he couldn't control and it was tragic.

She hoped that she could actually help him, not for the mission, but for himself.

They arrived at the venue twenty minutes early. Steve was trying (failing) to fix his tie while Ife was looking as glamorous and poised as can be.

Sensing Steve’s unease, she gave his hand a comforting squeeze, “You’ll do fine,” she whispered as she fixed his tie while not trying inhale his delicious natural scent like a creep (again).

“Let’s go inside.”

Everyone seemed to stop what they were doing when they entered the venue. Though Ife had to hand it to the guests; no one asked Steve for an autograph or a selfie. She noted several BNA officials and a couple of Earth-based Non-Human big wigs in attendance.

Guess Marlene was popular.

“Ife!” Azeneth shouted as she strode over to from a corner and enveloped her in a hug.

“Azeneth, how are you? I didn’t think you would be back from Mexico City so soon.”

“Well, the mission was short and they wanted me in New York to accompany Eliza here. Now, who is this fine gentleman, Ife?” Azeneth queried while Steve started shifting uncomfortably.

“This is Steve Rogers, one of my new teammates and Ca-”

“Captain America. I know, Ife. I was jesting.”

Ife sighed dramatically while rolling her eyes, “Steve, this is Azeneth. She’s one of my best Earth-based friends.”

“Kickass friend.” Azeneth corrected, “How are you liking Ife? She’s not too much trouble.”

“Stop it, ‘Aze!” Ife playfully hit Azeneth’s shoulder, “Feel free to ignore her, Steve.”

“Hmm, no. I don’t think I will, especially after the stunt you pulled on the first day at the compound.”

Azeneth burst out laughing at Ife’s shocked expression and Steve’s sly grin. She probably would’ve kept goin if not for Eliza cutting into their conversation.

“Excuse us, Mr. Rogers. I’ll have to speak with Ife for a moment. My name’s Eliza Maza, by the way.”

Once they were out of Steve’s line of sight (Azeneth was keeping him busy), Eliza activated a noise canceller.

“So did anyone die in the attack on the Magic Council?” Ife asked as she made sure Steve wasn’t looking at them.

“No one was harmed, but several books are missing from the library.”

“Shit! Okay. Well, would Dr. Strange be available to assist Wanda with her training? Wong and Nazaret are at the Sanctum and he said that he knew of some spells that could help.”

“I’ll look into it. I should have an answer in a week”

“Okay.”

“Ife, please give me a call when you get back to the compound.”

Ife eyed Konrad Jager, Gregor Eisenberg, Sonje Decker, and Lukas Denhart making their way to Steve. She hoped they weren’t going to drop an info bomb on him today.

“I will.”

The service was short and sweet as Marlene didn’t want everyone to be bored to tears on her behalf. The crowd got a laugh out that joke.

Afterwards, Marlene granddaughter, Zahara, requested if Steve could stay for a bit. She gave him a beautifully wrapped package.

“My grandmother wanted you to have this. She saw you fighting in the Battle of New York and knew you would know what to do with it.”

“It would be an honor, Miss.”

Ife thought about her earlier conversation with Steve on the say back. She realized what’s happened to Steve was heartbreaking.

Here was a man who gave up everything for a country that only wants him as a cudgel for their heinous deeds. Someone who, if he hadn’t fallen into the ice, would’ve probably been ruined by the same country he swore to protect. They would’ve labeled him as a communist and destroyed his good name for not immediately getting on board with the next war.

To be honest, Ife didn’t think much of Steve before joining the team. She thought he was just the banner boy for colonizers to feel good; he was the reminder of that brief moment when the US was totally the bad guys (totally being the operative word).

But now?

She saw the toll the helmet and shield had on him. Ife doubted he knew that he was going to be alive for awhile judging how neither Konrad or the others aged a day since they received Serum 1.0 and Steve supposedly got one that was at least 3x as powerful.

She wanted to comfort him somehow, but she was lost on what to do.

When she got back to the compound, she gave Steve a hug and went straight to her quarters to call Eliza.

“Eliza. I can’t do this by myself, and if we’re going to pull this off, I’m going to need some serious backup because the Avengers need some serious help.”

Fury was going through some mission reports when he heard a knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Oddly enough, Ife was the one to enter the room and not Maria Hill.

“Good Evening, Fury. I have someone who would like speak with you.”

“Well, give me a name and contact info and I’ll see what I can do.”

“Actually,” Ife reached in her pocket for a disc, “I can do you one better.”

Ife tossed the disc into the air and a moon-door portal formed from it. Out came Eliza, Azeneth, and Angela in her gargoyle form.

Eliza gave Ife a quick nod and turned to Fury, “Good Evening, Nicolas Fury. My name is Eliza Maza and we’re from the Bureau of Non-Human Affairs or BNA. I would advice that you lower your weapon. It won’t do you a lick of good,” Fury lowered his gun,” Good. Put Maria Rambeau on speaker, we need to talk.”

-Somewhere in France-

Maeve was enjoying her brunch while watching the footage of Eliza officially making contact with new SHIELD and SWORD.

“Well, it looks like it’s time to ‘get the band back together’ as the kids would say.” She chirped to the woman across the table.

“That expression pretty much died in the 90s. No ‘kid’ uses that phrase anymore.” Koronis deadpanned.

Maeve scoffed, “Anyone born after 1800 is a ‘child’ to me. This is what I get for trying not to sound like ‘an old hag’ as you put it.”

“Well, is everything on track?”

Koronis, or Carol, closed her eyes for few seconds, “I see nothing standing in our organization’s way. However, we should have the meeting sooner rather than later.”

“Duly noted. Anything else?”

“The new variable, Ifekerenma, will be more useful to our plans than I originally anticipated.”

“Oh, I do love surprises! I mean, I know how it will end, but I still like to be at least a little surprised. I knew it was a good idea to let Klaue be discovered by Ultron in Istanbul!”

Another woman walked up to the pair,”You wanted to see me, Mistress?”

“Yes. Svetlana, call the others. It’s time to put our plan into high gear. Hell’s Moon is upon us.”

Steve was having a shitty birthday.

The press was pestering him about the presidential election. Several outlets have called him a sellout and a coward for not endorsing anyone.

He was figuring out the best way to take a shower and hit the hay in less than 30 minutes when he found a beautifully written note taped to his door.

It said to come to Ife room wearing his best dancing clothes.

Ten minutes later, Steve knocked on her door and it instantly opened to reveal a modest dancing hall not unlike the ones he went to with Bucky before the war.

He was so lost in thoughts admiring the place that he failed to notice Ife hovering a few feet from him.

“Happy Birthday, Steve! How do you like it?”

Steve turned to see Ife in a knee-length golden yellow African Wax Print Ankara dress with cold shoulders, ruffled sleeves, and a v-neckline. He didn’t miss the modest view of her cleavage or how her legs looked oh, so smooth in the dress.

Ife, for her part, was super nervous about this. Nat said that people went to dance halls all the time in the late 1930s and 1940s and it took her five days to get the architecture, the music, and the lighting just right.

She hoped that Steve wouldn’t be angry with her.

Steve looked incredibly handsome in his simple dress shirt and slacks. His powerful shoulders, thick biceps, trim waist, and beefy thighs were accentuated by the lighting which made him look like he was glowing.

Ife would’ve drooled if she knew that he didn’t like it when most women would throw themselves at him.

“It’s amazing. Thank you.”

“I’m sorry about the dress. I couldn-”

Steve raised a hand to stop her from going off on a tangent,”You look beautiful.”

Ife felt a flurry of warmth in her core at the compliment.

“So, what would like to do?”

Before Steve could answer, Duke Ellington’s Don’t Mean a Thing starting playing.

Steve stretched out his hand, “Would you like to dance?”

Ife took his had and they glided onto the dance floor.

“Where did you learn to dance?”

“Bucky’s mom made us learn when Bucky started getting attention from the girls at school. She thought it best that we knew how to treat them to a good time.”

“I see,” Ife giggled, “Then she was wise to make take the lessons. Though I’m more familiar with the jitterbug.”

Steve chuckled as they resumed swinging. He hummed a bit as they danced to Ella Fitzgerald, Caro Emerald, Jo Stafford, Billie Holiday, and Gene Krupa.

Ife was impressed with Steve’s dancing skills. What were those women thinking passing him up like that?!

After a couple more rounds of dancing, the music shifted to something more modern but not (it was Howl’s Moving Castle’s Main Theme) , the colors on the walls and ceiling brightened, and several chandeliers formed on the ceiling.

Steve gave Ife a slightly confused look and asked her if she would like to try a waltz this time.

The song lasted a little more than five minutes. Steve was somehow able to lead their movements in sync with the song.

Ife felt her body was aflame with gentle yet commanding touches Steve was giving her. He even lifted her a few times making her feel as though she was flying with how gently he held her.

They were absorbed in their own world they either failed to notice or ignored Nat and Wanda entering Ife room to see if they could have another spa day. Nat even got a few pictures of the two dancing.

Steve gave Ife one last life during the climax and pulled her in when the music came to a close. They were about to come in for a kiss when Ife pressed her lips together and back away.

“We should probably retire for evening. Goodnight, Steve.”

Steve’s shoulders slumped in defeat, but left Ife’s room with a simple goodnight with Nat and Wanda in tow.

Ife frowned. She knew Steve wasn’t in the best place for a relationship and her conscience wouldn’t let her take advantage of that.

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keanureevesisbae · 3 years

Text

eunoia - chapter 1

Summary: Quinn is back in Delacroix, Louisiana

Sam Wilson x Quinn (Asian ofc)

Warnings: Some spoilers for Civil War, Inifinity War, Endgame and TFATWS

Wordcount: 3.2k

Masterlist // eunoia masterlist // Previous chapter

I watched AJ and Cass grow up into the boys they are now. It might be obvious to some, but I came to the realization that every step of their development is crucial. Teaching them boundaries, new skills and their abilities when it comes to social interaction.

Noticing that importance, made me wonder even more about the things that had happened in my past. What significant events happened for me to become who I am today. I don’t feel like anyone, like I have no personality, no history.

Fragments of memories are the only things I have left of my past. I remember laughing with people, though they remain faceless till this day. I remember warm weather, cold weather, but the hugs are the same. They are loving, caring. But there is also a lot of pain and exhaustion. There is confusion when I saw Bucky for the first time being contained in a small cell.

But those fragments are not equal to an entire memory.

Everything I started to experience is from the moment Zemo let me out of that cell back in Munich. Fighting alongside the Avengers, though never actually being one of them, meeting people during my solo trips through the country and sleeping in abandoned buildings by myself, since I had no money.

Delacroix, Louisiana, however, is the only place I dare to call home. I know there is a place somewhere that used to be home, but since I haven’t found that yet, I’ll rely on the place that feels most secure.

Of course I was aware that going here could mean bumping into Sam. It’s a risk I’m willing to take, because I missed spending time with the Wilson’s, especially AJ and Cass. I wonder though, what Sam might think. Me spending time with his family in the years he couldn’t.

I grew so close to the three of them, whilst we only had one thing in common.

Knowing Sam.

Since Tony’s funeral and Steve handing the shield to Sam, I have been wandering around the different states, even making slight detours to Canada, hoping to find something. I have been so desperately wanting to know something for so long. Anything that could be something that should be a treasured memory of mine.

Much to my dismay, I am still left in the dark. I have no idea who I am, where my roots started and who is out there missing me.

Are there even people missing me?

After I scolded the boys for growing, I hold up my hand to the older guy who has been appreciating my arrival from the moment I got here a little over five years ago. ‘Hi Carlos,’ I say to him.

‘Miss Quinn!’ he exclaims, rushing over to me in the fastest pace he can and hugs me tightly when I’m within arms reach. ‘Oh, do I love it when you join us.’

‘I love to be back.’

‘You’re gonna help me out, right?’ Carlos asks. ‘Things go much slower without you here. No one has come even close to your strength.’

‘I figured,’ I say with a smile. ‘I’ll help you out, okay?’

He blows me a kiss, before AJ, Cass and I walk towards Sarah and Sam. I shouldn’t be nervous, but I am. While Sam was contemplating whether or not to take the shield from Steve, I sneaked out. Ran off hating Steve. Hating the fact that he got older. Being able to go back in time, to not only place back the Stones and what not, but also to grow older with Peggy.

The love of his life.

He got to live his happily ever after with someone from his past, something that I would probably never experience. It took me months to realize that I wasn’t mad at him.

I was simply jealous.

Sarah opens her arms for me and I don’t waste a single second before letting myself being engulfed in her warm embrace. How I longed to feel a hug from her. ‘I missed you,’ she says to me.

‘I missed you too,’ I admit softly.

‘Don’t you dare leave me alone for too long.’ She holds onto my upper arms and glares at me. ‘The kids missed you too much.’

‘We did,’ they confirm in unison

I can’t help but laugh. ‘I missed them and you too much as well, hence the reason I came back.’

‘Oh, so you didn’t came back for my brother?’ She cocks an eyebrow. ‘He too just arrived.’

Sam scoffs and I pretend to roll my eyes, but I cannot miss the tone in her voice. She always pestered me about her brother, saying that if he were still here, we’d probably be all over each other.

Yeah right…

I remember first arriving here and staying in the guest room, one where Sam used to sleep if he crashed here in Delacroix. She caught me looking at pictures of Sam and slightly bullied me because of it. Maybe it seemed like I liked him, but the truth is: I realized how much I missed him.

Back when I helped out the Avengers, he was the only one I truly trusted. Because I cared so much about him, I went out of my way to go to his DC apartment in the midst of all chaos, to grab some personal belongings of his and make my way to his family.

Sam promised me he would always have my back and I don’t blame him for not keeping his promise. It’s just that now that he is back and I’m about the face him, it hits me how much his five year absence killed me deep down.

I’m too afraid to meet his eyes, but I know I have to eventually. ‘Solely for the kids,’ I say to Sarah, because that is the main reason I came back. The kids and Sarah.

Sarah squeezes my upper arms, almost as some encouragement and I look up to Sam. ‘Hi Quinn,’ he says to me, his voice warm, welcoming and trusting.

I missed him. I missed him looking at me. All of his attention directed to the person he’s talking to. It’s good to be on the receiving end of it.

‘Hi Sam.’

‘How are you?’

I have no idea actually. ‘I’m okay,’ I answer. ‘You look good.’

He seems a bit surprised, but a slightly cocky smirk appears on his lips. ‘As do you.’

Sarah frowns, as she looks from me to Sam back to me again. ‘How about you two catch up?’ She opens a cool box and grabs two beers. ‘I’ve got your favorite, Quinn. You must be tired from your trip. You deserve it.’

‘You’re the best, Sarah, thank you.’

Both AJ and Cass stand next to me and give me a tight hug. ‘You’re already taking her away, uncle Sam?’ AJ asks. ‘That’s so unfair. We want to know how the battle against Thanos went.’

‘I’ll be back before you know it,’ I say to them, slightly touched because they don’t want me to go.

‘Is this Superhero talk?’ AJ asks, looking at his uncle.

‘Boys, I told you,’ I say, ‘I’m no superhero.’

‘But you’re really strong,’ Cass says. ‘I think you are a superhero.’

‘She totally is,’ Sam says. ‘You should’ve seen her in the battlefield.’

I don’t do blushing, but I do this other thing: my ears turn in this fiery red color. It’s horrible, I hate it and of course today of all days I’m wearing my hair up in a ponytail, for everyone to see how the tips of my ears turn red.

‘Uncle Sam, to be fair, we like her more than we like you.’

Sam cocks an eyebrow. ‘Is that so?’ he asks. ‘That means I need to work extra hard to be number one again.’

‘If you get me one of those flying suits, you two are even.’

‘AJ,’ Sarah says, ‘we spoke about this. I’m not gonna let you fly around. Sorry Sam, you’re in third place.’

‘Third place?’ Sam asks, pretending to be offended. ‘Why third?’

‘Because mom is number one, auntie Quinn is number two and you are number three,’ Cass says. ‘Duh.’

Sam and I sit on the dock, both staring at the old boat. Paul & Darlene. A nearly nostalgic smile appears on my lips. ‘Sarah and I tried to fix it up,’ I say, flicking the cap off the beer bottle, doing the same for Sam. ‘Emphasis on tried. We didn’t have a lot of money, we had tons of other stuff to do and I have no idea on how to fix up a boat.’

Sam nods, grabbing the beer from me as I hand it to him. ‘Figured, think the two of you broke something in the process,’ he chuckles.

‘That would’ve been me, I’m sorry.’ I take a sip of the beer and think about the next thing I’m gonna say. ‘So,’ I start, ‘you gave up the shield.’

‘Not in the way you might think,’ he says, almost in a bit of a defensive tone. ‘I didn’t give it up. I gave it to the museum where it belongs. It’s a piece of history, not mine to use.’

I frown, as I fear that he might not know what I know. ‘You think it’s gonna stay in a museum?’ I ask.

Now he looks up. ‘Of course, what do you think?’

‘Well,’ I say, ‘it’s not gonna be part of the exhibition. There is… Someone who will receive the shield soon.’

It pains me to see his expression. The hurt, the betrayal. Poor Sam, he obviously wasn’t told about that. ‘I had no idea.’

‘I’m so sorry,’ I whisper.

‘How do you know?’

I shrug. ‘I went to one of my hackers,’ I say, ‘to see if he could help me with carefully running my picture through any database. We stumbled upon some governmental documents and it read that once they had the shield, they would give it to some guy who is training for it. I believe his name was John Walker.’

‘That could be anyone,’ Sam notes with a scoff.

‘Exactly,’ I agree, ‘but it shouldn’t be anyone. Steve gave that shield to you, not this John Walker guy. I’m not saying that giving the shield for an exhibition was wrong, but… I do know this is not what both you or Steve had in mind when you gave the shield to the Smithsonian.’

Sam shakes his head and from the looks of it, he is beating himself up over this. ‘They should’ve told me.’

‘Had they told you, would you kept the shield?’

He nods. ‘It’s Steve shield, not mine, not this John guy.’

I have no idea what I should say to him. I want to say about myself that I know how to comfort someone, but that someone is not a grown man. The only ones I can remotely comfort, are AJ and Cass and when necessary, I can sort of calm Sarah down (though I have gone wrong there maybe once or twice).

‘Is this John Walker gonna go public any time soon?’ Sam asks.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why do you think Steve gave me that shield?’

I was not expecting that question at all, but it’s an easy one to answer. ‘You’re the only one worthy of the shield, of that legacy. You are more than Captain America’s friend, Sam. You are the only one that can live up to the expectation.’

‘I don’t know, Quinn.’

‘Listen, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have hesitations. It only shows that you are humble and I think that is exactly the type of man Steve wanted for the shield.’

From the looks of it, Sam grows more and more uncomfortable. To redirect the conversation, he clears his throat and says: ‘Bucky isn’t gonna like this.’

Oh boy, I hadn’t even thought of that. ‘Have you spoken to him?’

He shakes his head. ‘Nah, he ignores my texts.’

I can’t stop my smile. ‘Mine too.’

‘Oh, you’ve been texting him?’ Sam asks. eyebrow cocked.

‘Sometimes,’ I say, ‘it’s just that I figured we had something in common. He just went totally AWOL after his pardoning and I have no idea what he is doing. I bet he doesn’t even wanna be found. If there is something going on, he’ll show up.’

‘Well, good thing Bucky doesn’t even know where I live,’ he says, ‘think you and I are safe for a while.’

I chuckle, looking at my beer bottle. ‘Yeah, bet you’re right.

That night, I walk into the room I always sleep in when I stay over at the Wilson’s, only to discover a shirtless Sam, in nothing else but boxers near the bed. That looks abnormally good, I think to myself, before I realize that it’s considered rude to just walk into a room like that. ‘Oh,’ I say, ‘I’m so sorry.’ I pull down the sleeping shirt, hoping it covers up my legs more.

‘No, I am,’ he says. ‘I could’ve known you would sleep here. Let me grab some blankets and I’ll take the couch.’

‘You’re taking the couch?’ I ask.

‘Yeah.’

I’ve slept on that thing and if it was uncomfortable for me, who is the size of a kid, it must be even worse for him.‘The bed is large enough,’ I say. ‘Pick a side.’

‘I don’t want to cross any line, Quinn.’

‘You won’t,’ I say. ‘Believe me, I shared sleeping spaces with people, most of which were… different than you, in the negative sense.’

‘Right,’ he says. ‘I want the right side, closer to the door.’ I watch Sam stepping in that part of the bed and slide underneath the covers and I walk around the bed, stepping in as well. We stare at the ceiling and the only thing we can hear is the breathing of one another.

I missed being in the Wilson’s residence. I missed the talks we would have, the food we would eat and the way the boys would talk. They’ve gone a long way and I sound like an old grandma, but I am so proud of them. Growing up during the blip, watching their mom work hard, that must’ve been tough, but they pulled through.

They grew up to be fine young men, who are strong, who are kind and mostly, who still know how to be kids.

But what’s different now is the presence of Sam and it’s not an unpleasant one. He obviously loves his sister and nephews and even after coming back from a rough mission, he gives them his time and attention.

Everything he has to offer.

Even if that means annoying his sister about the family boat. Sarah told me all about that dragon of a money sucker. It costs a lot and she doesn’t have time nor the money to renovate.

‘Where have you been?’ he asks.

‘When?’

‘Those five years and those months after the shield.’

I let out a sigh. ‘I have been wandering around the country after the blip, hoping to find out more about me. To no luck, I came in empty handed. After the shield, I continued wandering. Just realized I needed family. I needed Sarah.’

‘Thanks for helping her out.’

‘Oh, she didn’t need helping out,’ I say. ‘Besides, I wasn’t much of a help.’

‘I bet you were,’ Sam says with a smile. ‘You’re tired, go have some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’

That night, I yet again have a dreamless dream. I never dream. Maybe I did, but I don’t remember. I barely remember everything. There are three major things in life that are the foundation of my life.

I hate cold weather, the person who has been playing a major role in my life is Bucky, who I haven’t spoken to for months and I have enhanced powers, but I have no idea where they are coming from.

Things in my life never made sense.

I remember when Zemo freed me, only for me to roam through the city of Münich and be caught by the team of Everett Ross. How Bucky has been a part of my life, has always been a mystery, because Bucky can only tell me he would see me back in his cell, before Hydra wiped him.

But what have I got to do with Hydra?

The next morning my eyes flutter open. I take a deep breath and lift up my head, only to realize I was resting it on Sam’s strong chest. ‘Morning,’ he says, his voice deep and it almost sounds like liquid gold.

Shit, I’m too close. ‘Good morning,’ I say, pushing myself up. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Don’t be.’

‘Sure? You feared you were overstepping, but now I am the one. How long have I been… resting like this.’

‘The second you drifted off to sleep. You’re a wild one. Think I’ve got at least a few bruises and broken ribs with that super strength of yours.’

‘Sorry,’ I chuckle. ‘I hope you’re okay.’

‘I’ll live.’ He sits up straighter and rubs his eyes.

‘How did you sleep?’ I ask.

‘Alright,’ he says. ‘It always takes a bit of getting used to when I get back here.’

‘I see.’

The door barges open, only to see Sarah. ‘There you two are,’ she says, tying up her robe she wears over her pajamas. ‘You should see the news. They are announcing the new Captain America.’

My heart stops beating for a moment and I look over my shoulder to see Sam. He gets up, puts on some clothes, while I grab some sweats. We all walk into the living room, only to see the boys already sitting in front of the screen.

‘Every day Americans feel it,’ the man on the television says. ‘While we love heroes who put their lives on the line to defend Earth, we also need a hero to defend this country. We need a real person who embodies America’s greatest values.’

I watch Sam staring at the screen, as he talks place on the couch. I carefully sit next to him, hoping he is not spooked by my presence.

He isn’t.

‘We need someone to inspire us again, someone who can be a symbol for all of us. So, on behalf of the Department of Defense and our Commander-in-Chief, it is with great honor that we announce here today that the United States of America has a new hero.’

I don’t know whether Sam is disappointed in himself for believing the shield was gonna be exhibited in the Smithsonian or in the government who betrayed him.

Either way, watching this must be awful.

‘Join me in welcoming your new Captain America.’

The new Captain America. It’s like a punch in the gut. The cheering, the waving of the generic John Walker holding a shield that isn’t his.

I place my hand on his knee and for a split second I fear he is going to swat it away.

But then I feel the warmth of his palm on my hand and he looks to the side. He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes say enough.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say.

He nods. ‘Yeah, me too, Quinn. Me too.’

#sam wilson #sam wilson fanfic #sam wilson x quinn #sam wilson x woc ofc #sam wilson x asian ofc #sam wilson x ofc #sam wilson x oc #sam wilson fanfiction #quinn #asian ofc #woc of #anthony mackie x woc ofc #anthony mackie x asian ofc #anthony mackie x oc #anthony mackie x ofc #anthony mackie fandom #anthony mackie fanfiction #anthony mackie #eunoia

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ectonurites · 3 years

Note

for the character headcannons ask game, jason and cass?

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT im putting this one under a cut because it got SUPER long bc i cant shut up ever

lets start w jason

A (realistic headcanon):

ok using the ‘realistic’ category here loosely but GOD i love the idea of Damian & Jason having interacted while Jason was staying with the League before getting dunked in the Lazarus Pit. like. this obviously would need to be set more in preboot and following the Lost Days & Batman Annual 25 version of Jason’s resurrection, but god the idea of it just makes me scream in a good way. Like... these are things Jason likely doesn’t remember very clearly once he’s brought back to life more fully by the pit because he was uh pretty catatonic, but Damian being a little kid and knowing about the boy that his mother keeps around the base, that she’s trying to help bring back to health. Damian not even knowing that’s his big brother, just that he’s a presence that shares his mother’s attention. Jason again being unresponsive but like, ok god you know that part of lost days where Talia shows the others observing him that he only fights back at those he perceives as genuine threats trying to hurt him,

Because Jason can perceive that she’s safe, she’s not actually trying to hurt him, he trusts her because she saved him? thinking about lil child Damian who is ya know already being trained in fighting stuff and like the idea of him trying to provoke Jason just to see what happens but Jason not fighting back because on some level be it his connection to Talia or even little baby Damian visually reminding him of Bruce, he knows that Damian is safe too 🥺

and then when Jason and Damian meet again in Gotham as Red Hood & Robin respectively, Jason not really remembering because there was so much going on back then for him, but Damian realizing that oh... that was Him

B (hilarious):

alright so if we are looking at comics currently, in modern stuff jason is what, like 22? hes old enough to drink in the US but still definitely early 20s so around my around my age, thats what im using as a basis here. if we adjust timeline and still consider his death having happened when he was 15, that puts it around 2013. and then coming back to like interacting with people about three years later if we still kinda base things off of the preboot timeframe (since we never got a super solid retelling of the timeline of death -> resurrection -> training -> tries to get revenge aside from knowing he went to the all-caste instead of the lost days version of the story) making him reenter the regular world and stuff around age 18 in 2016. meaning a solid three years of pop culture that he was entirely missing, and like im sorry but he really doesn’t strike me as the type to bother looking into what he missed, he’s kinda busy focusing on other stuff. lets take a quick look at some major things from those years. 2013 gave us ‘what does the fox say’ and ‘the harlem shake’ . 2014 had that time U2 just put a fuckin album on everyone’s phones, The Fault In Our Stars movie came out. 2015 introduced the phrase ‘Netflix and Chill’ and the whole blue & black vs gold & white dress debate happened. imagine any of the other batkids (or even arguably roy during rhato stuff) bringing these things up and jason’s ensuing confusion. thank you for your time

C (heart-crushing):

so. there are two specific instances from rebirth era Jason i want to bring up here and much like a lot of these it’s less a headcanon and more of an inference based on observations, but i wanna take a sec to discuss Jason’s relationship with other people’s death. early in rebirth, Tim ‘dies’ from that whole thing in detective comics. he didn’t actually die, we as readers know, but in-universe they all very much so thought he was dead. frustratingly a lot of the batfam wasn’t really shown mourning him aside from in the Detective Comics Rebirth title itself (which just. when a major character dies even if its temporary- that should have a ripple effect) BUT an exception to that is in RHATO 2016, where we get this offhanded comment in Jason’s internal monologuing

similarly later when Roy, who like, had an incredibly close relationship w Jason that had just gotten mended before Heroes in Crisis, gets fuckin murdered in that whole thing... Jason doesn’t go to his funeral either. He leaves a dramatic voice mail and then visits the grave on his own later, choosing to instead keep working on the mission they’d started rather than going and taking the time to mourn properly.

Jason’s relationship with death is incredibly complicated, obviously. He has died, he has come back, and he now is willing to cross the line most other bats won’t and will kill people when he deems it necessary. I think thats something important though- he doesn’t just like... go around killing for fun (usually, some writers preboot made him a little murder happy but even then usually this still was vaguely followed) he kills people he thinks deserved it. Like, even looking back at the mess of Morrison’s Jason during Batman & Robin 2009, Jason was still trying to bring a sense of justice with who he was killing (”punishment that fits the crime”), it wasn’t killing for the sake of killing. He sees things in this kind of almost black and white ‘people who deserve it’ and ‘people who don’t’ way, and he has no problem dealing with death when it’s with the people he thinks deserve it.

but when someone who doesn’t in his mind ‘deserve it’ gets killed? i think he just goes into total avoidance mode. throws himself into other things he’s doing, tries not to dwell on it too much no matter how much he still thinks about it (this is especially evident in him consistently telling people “i’m fine!” after what happened to Roy, despite bringing Roy up literally like every few issues for a WHILE after he died and very clearly still struggling with it, Artemis is the only one who gets through to him on it a little bit)

but yeah, I just think that from Jason’s relatively unique situation of having been murdered, he knows what it’s like and he is perfectly fine wishing that on people he thinks are bad and deserve it, but it crushes him to imagine the people he loves and cares about having to experience something as painful as what he went through. not to mention the whole “I came back, why do I get a second chance at all this when they, who are a much better person than I am, probably won’t” mindset we get some implications of him having

D (canon is a coward and won’t)

hello DC i am once again insisting a batfam member is bisexual

CASS TIME

A (realistic headcanon):

ok so we know cass likes ballet. thats canon. however i think we also should in general explore cass experiencing other types of dance/performance as well, be it herself as a performer or even just watching. like... god imagine her & like my brain just automatically for group activities puts her with tim steph and duke but also for this in particular I feel would be a Jason embraced activity, but like them going to see a broadway show or some other professional theatre or something, and her just being enthralled by the reading of body language of the performers! like again by any point in current stuff cass does have like, the ability to speak fine (reading still hard tho) but even so I think like. okay im a theatre kid if that’s not obvious from the Everything About Me but one thing I always do after seeing a show is ya know spend dinner afterwards discussing it with whoever i saw it with.

I just think that like, bringing those people i just mentioned to the table to discuss seeing a show after would be so FASCINATING because cass would bring this whole perspective of critiquing their acting on a whole different level- not based on how well they delivered lines out loud, but by what their body language was saying as they moved on stage. like im very amused by the idea of cass getting a totally different picture in her mind about what a character’s motivations were because she was paying way more attention to what their physicality was saying vs the words that were written and how they were delivered. i think the debates her and the others would have would be EPIC there. jason defending the text as it was written adamantly and cass being like ‘ok yeah sure but thats not what they did’

B (hilarious):

cass having no concept of money because why would she bother? is SO funny to me. like it’s not that she couldn’t be reasonable if she wanted to, but like, she knows that the Waynes are well off so it’s not something she actually needs to be concerned about, so she just goes hog wild. takes steph out to fancy dinners and makes steph order for them since cass ya know doesn’t really read the menus, and steph’s like ‘jesus christ this costs-” “don’t worry about it” “but cass-” and she just holds up one of bruce’s credit cards and steph’s still like “but you don’t even know the range-” “it is fine”

bruce does not have the heart to tell her to stop

C (heart-crushing):

i mean this is pretty much canon but especially now after death metal where she’s remembering, not just being told by a guy using weird alternate timeline technology, that she used to be an adopted member of the Wayne family... like that hurts so bad. To look at these people who have ya know been kind to her, Bruce has still been a father-like figure to her (i mean literally from the moment they met in New 52 canon during the flashback in Batman & Robin Eternal, where he’s telling her that she’s not a monster just because of what people forced her to do.... that she’s a hero... that hug.... dad behavior), and they do to some extent treat her as family... But to then really know, to feel and remember that she was actually adopted! She was a part of their family. To look at how she’s been calling herself Orphan while working with them this whole time... that’s so heartbreaking! I have cried about this idea so much! I want so badly a conversation between her and Bruce now where he offers to officially adopt her again, I need it so bad and if it doesn’t happen at some point in the next year or two I will be so distraught.

D (canon is a coward and won’t)

i want an in-depth exploration of cass’ relationship to her own gender. being raised without language and you know with so much of her life being independent (remember: CASS RAN AWAY AROUND THE WORLD WITHOUT REALLY KNOWING ANY SPOKEN LANGUAGE) and outside of an organized society impressing too much of gender expectations on her, i feel like the way she experiences it would be very unique! like sure she’s so far been fine with being assigned ‘girl’ (ya know that comes with batgirl, and how people just automatically treated her based on how she looks) but in terms of gender expression and like her actual relationship with ‘traditional femininity’ etc like... because of how she was raised I just think she’d have a really different perspective on it that could be cool to explore, and I think she’d fall outside of the binary after she really thinks about how she identifies.

tldr on that: she/they nb cass is what i’m getting at here

#onwater #jason todd #cassandra cain #sam writes

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disorganizedkitten · 3 years

Text

Surprise reminder I am not in fact dead. Happy whatever. I’m brainspewing a bunch of aus, mostly DC/batfam and Harry Potter atm and wanted to share some of my favorite moments from the HP planning sessions. These are... sort of from the same story? It’s evolved enough that I could split it into multiple stories based off which update/version it’s from.

Welcome to my Regulus Black Survives and ends up Raising Harry au that eventually melted into a very fun Twin Au that I hope I finish.

Harry: I CAN DESTROY HORCRUXES BY BLEEDING ON THEM

Reg also sends him with a communication mirror because it's been four or five years, he's not going to be so callous as to deny he loves his kid.

So they, being 12 and dumb, end up going in after her/him.

Upon seeing Riddle leave the diary, Harry and Theo, who were raised by a Black and a Nott respectively, freaked. Theo didn't know what it was for sure, but could tell it was Bad, and Harry saw 75.9% sure it was a horcrux because really. What else can a person materialize out of?

Riddle proceeds to monologue about how he hadn't expected this, Slytherins and Gryffindors working together? And aren't you a Nott? I wonder how your forefathers would feel. Etc. While Harry and Theo dodge the curses and continue to try to destroy the diary.

"How can you be so powerful if you were defeated by a baby?!"

The Basilisk ends up trying to listen to both of them, and then Connor tries to help, and Riddle tries to kill Harry w/ Ukri and Connor tries to take Riddle down, and Theo is darting around and tripping Ukri and Riddle up, while Ron has given up on his wand and is trying to wrestle Riddle, which leaves Harry again to take the diary.

When Sirius breaks out, Harry makes a lot of comments about just… cutting off his left arm. After all, no dark mark, no loyalty to the cause. Crippled, even if he was a loyal follower before. This is also his first elective year, which means that Reg sends him an old prosthetic to unravel for Ancient Runes. Draco screams when Harry gets an arm in the mail.

Also Theo gets kidnapped by Sirius summer of 95 after he runs away to escape becoming a baby Death Eater. It's in broad daylight and causes so much panic

("I was wondering what that unholy shriek was" "a horcrux dying,")

This leads to all sorts of hijinks because due to it being accidental, young, and without due process or practice, Fay is essentially an inferi. Except she still has a soul. It's weird. The necromancy-gone-sideways means that they're bonded.

Neville Longbottom and the Suspicious Letters - the Godbrother letters begin!!

“I thought my brother was supposed to be raising you.” “I can go?” “Absolutely not, someone has to keep you alive.”

Regulus is a panicked box of nerves who accidentally acquired a child who should by all rights be his brother’s, and now he has to keep him

Harry grew up around Reg who has Very Dangerous Magic™ all over the house, and has the time of his life watching things blow up

“Harry you’re going to singlehandedly give me grey hairs”

“Honestly if it wouldn’t get more attention than I need I’d just kidnap you, they’re such horrid guardians. And I’m a Black, so that’s saying something!

(The Black Family Madness isn't inherited, it's learnt)

Adrian is a mortician because I really liked the idea of a murder basement except no one has ever actually died in the basement.

Fay Dunbar vs the natural order

Neville Longbottom and the wallflower society

Charlie and Ginny Weasley are Parselmouths bc it makes me happy

Happy Hogwarts day, Harry! Or should it be Happy Hogwarts Hour, Harry? Since you like alliteration? (I clearly remember Mass-Machete-Murderer). I’m sad there’s no chance of running into you in diagon today, but hey! Hogwarts is coming soon! And then we can hang out whenever, right? Well, maybe not whenever. I guess we’d have to attend classes and make more friends. But otherwise! No more sneaking around! Unless you're a Slytherin. Then there might be some sneaking. But not as much! (Have we talked about that yet? I’m pretty sure I’m a shoe-in for Gryffindor, but… yeah. If you’re not, that’s completely okay!) (^letter between Harry and the Other Potter Twin(tm) )

Hey, Harry. Mum just learned you’re a wizard (forgot to ask how, sorry, I’m sure she’ll tell you later) and has decided you need to come live in the wizarding world with us. I didn’t tell her anything. You and your Axe-bear uncle need to figure something out and fast. I’ll see what stalling I can do. XX, your lovely brother. (On the upside, we get 2 c e/o b4 Spt1!) (^Another actual letter from version 2-3 of this au)

"You know," Theo says to Conner at one point. "It's a bit like Harry was raised by a Black." Conner shrugs. "He was raised by an ex-death eater with one arm. Close enough." Theo does research and pretty much just figures that whenever Harry says he was raised by a dead man, he means legally. Theo puts his money on Regulus Black early on.

Theo’s a very smart cookie

Harry also writes letters to Regulus using a constantly changing code which is really just pop culture references.

We have a bunch of parselmouths this generation. See: Charlie Weasley, Ginerva Weasley. Henry Potter/Peverell. Connor Potter. Fay Dunbar/Black. (Also, Theo Nott, Neville Longbottom, Hermione Granger, and a few others learn it for the sake of keeping up with them). Bry is… one of those groups.

Bryony becomes a Basilisk Breeder

There are five prophecy children bc I can

‘Tuney rushed out “He's not here." No duh, Connor thought but didn’t say. He hoped the adults had a plan for this, because if Harry and Connor had to come up with stories on their own (lie to their parents) there was no way it would end well. Three years of letters and visits and Connor still didn’t have a name for Harry’s adult figure. He wondered morbidly if that was going to change today.’

‘Connor decided with a new thread of despair that yep, the adults were going to be lying to each other for the foreseeable future. Ugh.‘

‘When Reg catches Barty, the only one who does, neither of them attack. "Why, Barty?" "What else can I do?" "Join us?" "That won't be safe. Won't be fair. I'm trying to send one of those boys to their death." "You're also helping keep them alive. Let me get you out." Barty switches allegiances that night. The moment he has a choice.’

There are a lot of people who are willing to step away from Voldemort but don’t know how. They got in over their heads decades ago and now they’re stuck.

That doesn’t mean they’ll sit around and watch their kids make the same mistakes.

#Aus #planning #jaymeow writes #Hp aus #Harry Potter #Chaos and Children #This au is also known as the one where half the cast is dead but everything is good anyways

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astralaffairs · 4 years

Text

freedom of the press 05.1 | thomas jefferson

title: freedom of the press 05.1, or the aftermath

pairing: thomas jefferson x reader

words: ~9k

warnings: partial nudity, though it likely isn’t what you're expecting. copious amounts of teasing, and just a touch of financial hardship. i lowkey adore the last scene, but 05 doesn’t reach its highest point of steamy until pt. 2

desc: the 2020 republican presidential frontrunner is an obnoxious, morally bankrupt people-pleaser, but what happens when you become the person he’s most eager to please?

tags: @stargazelaurens @ivory-haired-queens @exoticxchicken8 @assbuttstyles777 @superbarriobrothers @distinguishedpotsticker @fukaaaaaaaa @hereforthepsyche-assessment @ivetoldamillionlies @fangirl570 @thealaddinkid @lasciviouspeach @snazzydoesthings @shy-and-awkward-daveed @rachelhermionerose @soft-weeb-s @gryffinclxw @anamrnk @daveeddiggsit @ayayayayana @marinovakovich @cryinghazelnutt @thefandomgirl03 @a-hopeless-fan @cloudywlw @tinywhim @lolidunnoaboutnow — hope i didnt miss anyone; lmk if you want to be added!!

SUNDAY, 9 AM

Y/N AWOKE TO sun streaming through her windows, and she rolled over with a groan as the bright glare reflected off the snow and into her bedroom. She curled further into the covers, pulled them tighter around herself, shifting underneath the arm that still lay slung over her torso. It took her a minute to process anything being out of place, but as the sleepy haze faded from her mind, her eyes fluttering open to the mid-morning light, she slowly began to realize.

The man beside her shifted with a grumble. Y/N could feel her breath catch as the previous night’s memories hit her like a train, and she looked up at him to confirm she hadn’t dreamt it – but there he was. She’d made her bed, both in the literal sense and the figurative, and there she was, laying in it. Pulling closer to him was unconscious; she’d begun by then to drown in retrospection.

As her gaze, glassy and unfocused, fell to his (notably bare) torso, he inhaled deeply. She didn’t immediately process the rise and fall of his chest as he yawned lightly. As he finally began to wake up, reaching up to rub his eye as he stretched, he squinted down at her, both she and he looking equally drowsy. Her eyes had snapped shut upon realizing he was awake, and with a groggy hum, he absentmindedly pulled her closer, an arm wrapped around her waist. When she tensed against his skin, though, he raised an eyebrow, and she finally looked up at him, her smile timid despite her state of affairs. A grin broke through his tired features.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

SUNDAY, 9 PM; TWO WEEKS EARLIER

Y/N HAD ARRIVED home from her short run in Detroit expecting to be met with celebration and relaxation. She knew that moderating the debates, becoming that publicly visible, would do wonders for her career. The final night of the trip was the furthest thing from her mind – even throughout the flight back, articles were being written covering the questions she had asked, her name was popping up associated with the debates all over the Internet. She couldn’t pretend not to be pleased with the effect on her Twitter following.

Her intent had been to engage further with the work she had done when she was out of town. Though she knew she had her weekend off, she figured it’d be good for her to debrief on everything that had happened, everything she could build on going forward.

However, when she arrived home, she was met with one simple announcement: Angelica was moving out.

Obviously, it wasn’t quite as simple as that.

Angelica was engaged, her long-time boyfriend John Church now turned fiancé. Y/N was thrilled for her, and she was reduced nearly to tears when Angelica asked her to be her maid of honor, and Y/N, in turn, insisted on taking her dress shopping. Alex and Eliza had been over for the announcement as well, as they and Y/N hung onto Angelica’s every word as she recounted how John had proposed, getting on one knee after making her a romantic dinner.

"This is honestly the best thing I could’ve come home to,” Y/N gushed, and Angelica let out a soft ‘aw,’ her hand enveloping her friend’s on the couch.

The night really had been a celebration; the drinks didn’t stop until Alex realized he still needed to drive home and Eliza realized she couldn’t drink while pregnant. They’d learned that final tidbit not two weeks earlier.

“We’re glad to have you back.” Alex grinned, and she looked back at him with sentimentality heavy in her gaze. “Especially after you spent the end of the week dragging Republicans through the mud? We’re proud of you.”

Angelica and Eliza laughed while Y/N just rolled her eyes. “I didn’t 'drag anyone through the mud,’ Alexander,” she huffed, but his entertainment only grew.

“Yeah? Tell that to Jefferson.”

She did a poor job hiding her smile. (It’d really ended up closer to a roll in the hay, but that was just semantics.)

“Tonight really is a celebration all around, isn’t it?” Eliza looked proud of her as she raised her grape-juice glass in Y/N’s honor – she’d cut herself off after half a drink, ever the responsible mother.

“I’ll drink to that,” Angelica agreed, nudging Y/N in the side, whose expression had become coy. Alex raised a glass.

“To the next stages in our lives?”

“To weddings and babies!” Eliza grinned. “And dismantling corrupt politics.” Y/N couldn’t help her light laugh at her friend’s declaration, and they all drank without hesitation.

However, the implication was much more than just a celebration.

Everything was changing, for better and for worse – Angelica was engaged, which meant she would be moving in with her fiancé, thus leaving Y/N without a roommate.

When Y/N brought up the move, trying to stamp down her own ulterior motive and selfish curiosity, Angelica seemed to sense her anxiety at that one glaring fact. “I don’t have to move out of here right away, of course. I don’t wanna leave you on your own, or–”

“Oh, no way I’m gonna hold you back from moving in with your future husband,” Y/N said. “I’m self-sufficient; I’ll find a place easy.” She didn’t have to mention what they both knew: she couldn’t afford to stay there without Angelica helping with the bills.

“I know, sweetie.” Her smile was maternal as she placed her hand over Y/N’s. “Would you let me pay next month’s rent, though? I mean, I’m still a tenant–”

“Angelica,” Y/N began, giving her a warning look. “No chance. You know how much I appreciate you… well, spotting me some of my half of our monthly bills, but I can’t let you do that once you aren’t living here. Move out. You deserve it.”

“And where are you gonna go?” Angelica raised an eyebrow, and Y/N shrugged, nonchalant.

“We’re in DC; there are empty apartments everywhere. I should be able to afford a studio somewhere around here, right?” Angelica, Eliza, and Alex looked skeptical at that. Y/N made decent money at the Washington Post, but with her student debt, her savings were in shambles.

She huffed as she realized the looks they shared. “Or I’ll find a roommate. I’ll just crash with another friend until I find somewhere with a down payment I can afford.”

Angelica sighed. “What if I just helped you with the deposit on another place around here?”

“No, Ang,” she insisted with a huff. Her stare was deadpanned, her tone flat. However, Angelica didn’t seem to be near acquiescing.

“And why not?” She frowned as she pulled a leg up on the couch, hugging it and resting her head on her knee. “It really doesn’t make a dent. It’s family money.”

“But I need to pay this off for myself.” Angelica furrowed her brow, and Y/N could only huff. “You’ll never know what it’s like to have grown up without money, and I’m glad you didn’t, but this is bigger than just a bill. I love you for being willing to support me, but I can’t let you.” She set her drink down as she shifted to face Angelica. “I have to be able to pay my own rent. I’m not gonna let myself be dependent on you, or feel like I owe you–”

“You wouldn’t owe me anthing!” Angelica protested, but Y/N gave her a hard look.

“But I’d feel like I did. I need to support myself.”

“Okay, honey.” Angelica again reached for her hand, running her thumb over her friend’s knuckles. “If you really need money, though, you could pick up some shifts at Mira and Orlando’s diner. You know they’d always have you.”

She sighed. “Yeah. Yeah, I know. I just always feel bad asking them for work.”

“It’s not charity, Y/N, it’s a job. They need the help anyway.” Angelica shrugged, and Y/N pursed her lips. It was a serious consideration; she knew they’d give her the job part-time, she already knew how to do it, and it’d be easy money. She’d worked at the old couple’s diner sporadically since coming to D.C., primarily when she needed rent money right after she made the move. Besides, it was pleasant work around them.

“I dunno… I just don’t wanna let them think I can’t support myself, that I need their help with my finances.”

“And how do you expect to handle your finances without work? That’s kinda how market economies work.” Alex looked unimpressed as he interjected, and though she shot him a weak glare, Y/N couldn’t argue.

His tone was firm, but Y/N’s hesitance was far from unwarranted. Mira and Orlando were her godparents, and they had lived near Y/N and her family in her hometown when she was growing up. Them living and running a hole-in-the-wall family diner in D.C. was a happy coincidence. They’d functioned as parents for Y/N for a number of years, though, and she knew they’d worry if they thought she was struggling to make ends meet. They didn’t need any more stress in their lives.

When she didn’t answer, Angelica continued, and though her voice was quiet, her tone was firm. “Hey. They’re understaffed, and they absolutely adore you. They’ll always want your help.”

“I dunno.” Y/N’s stare was fixed on the floor before her as the silence grew, and she couldn’t bring herself to meet any of their eyes. She’d end up going to her godparents for work, almost undoubtedly, but none of them could do anything more about the guilt that was strung across Y/N’s shoulders like a yoke. They couldn’t keep her from trying to carry the weight of the world with her.

It was Eliza who finally broke the pause, eyes bright. “Come stay with us!” she offered, and Y/N couldn’t help but grin at her generosity. She glanced at Alex, and he shrugged, nodded along, and her smile was warm as she shook her head lightly.

“You both know I can’t accept that. You have a toddler and another baby on the way; the last thing you need is a houseguest.”

Alex scoffed. “Whatever. You’re family. Family takes care of family, Y/N.”

His words went straight to her heart, but she really couldn’t impose like that. She bit her lip before replying, “Alex, it means the world to me that you’d offer. Really. But that’s not fair to you or your pregnant wife.”

He held her gaze for a moment, but clearly sensing her determination, he pursed his lips. “Will you at least let us all help find you a place?”

She gave him a soft smile, though wry amusement seeped into it. “Happen to know any wealthy heirs you can marry me off to? I’m flexible.”

Alex rolled his eyes as Eliza laughed, though he didn’t hide his grin. “Why? So you can go with them to their creepy manors until they die of unexplainable causes?”

She scoffed. “Obviously we’ll go on a cruise for our honeymoon where a tragic accident will befall him, making me the sole beneficiary of his will.”

“What was I thinking?” Alex’s tone reeked of sarcasm, and he shook his head at her before pausing, seeming as though a thought had struck him. “Actually, though, I might have a suggestion.”

“You do know a rich, elderly property-owner?”

“Take out elderly and you’re set.” He shrugged. “Lafayette’s roommate–”

He didn’t get any further, though, as Y/N groaned. “Really? Lafayette is your big idea? You want him to die in a mysterious accident?”

Alex just rolled his eyes. “I’m not offering him up for you to gold-dig. His roommate just moved out, though, and he hasn’t started looking for another one.”

“Do you think I could afford to be Lafayette’s roommate?” Disbelief hung heavy in her tone.

“Maybe not, but I’m sure he’d be happy to let you stay with him until you can find a place.” He shrugged, giving a small smile. “You and him are friends, right?”

Her mind immediately jumped to one specific botched Twitter interaction. Right then, he wasn’t exactly at the top of the list of people she’d like to live with. “… Sort of.”

“Great!” His smile grew with that, taking her words for much more than he knew they were. She rolled her eyes. “C'mon, he has an empty bedroom from his roommate and an open guest bedroom. He has enough space and then some.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Geez, you sure he doesn’t live in some kind of mansion?”

“Might be a penthouse.” She fixed Alex with a skeptical stare, and he had the audacity to grin. “What? I told you he was wealthy. Besides, that’s perfect for you, isn’t it?”

She pursed her lips, considering her options as she absentmindedly rubbed her right shoulder, an arm crossed over her body as she shrunk back. She certainly didn’t have a better idea. “You really think he’d be okay with it?”

“Of course,” Alex reassured her, before raising a teasing brow. “Besides, he seemed to take a bit of a liking to you at the state dinner, at least from where I was sitting. I can’t imagine he’d object to getting you alone for a few days.”

“Alex,” she groaned dramatically, leaning back onto the couch in exaggerated exhaustion. “I am not about to barter sex for a place to stay.”

“I’d never suggest such a thing,” he scoffed, though his gaze drifted down to the spot where her shoulder met her neck, where Y/N’s hand had been moments ago, just above her collarbone. He furrowed his brow before his gaze jumped back to hers. “Though, if that hickey is any indication, you’re not exactly sexually inactive.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror; her hand jumped immediately to the offending area. She’d set her concealer so well; she had been sure it wasn’t visible, but it seemed she’d gradually rubbed the makeup off of it.

Angelica gasped as though scandalized, and Eliza turned to her with wide eyes. “Y/N? Who have you been getting it on with in Detroit?” Angelica grinned after a moment, though, eyes shining with amusement. Y/N’s face had to be burning by then. “James Madison been a little too frisky?”

“Angelica.” She looked to her with annoyance, her teeth gritted. She swallowed, trying to keep her throat from drying out. “How many times do I have to tell you–”

“With how embarrassed she looks, it has to have been one of the Republicans, right?” Alex cocked his head to the side, considering her. They’d functionally cut her out of the conversation as they discussed her liaison, and Alex’s grin looked overly self-satisfied, in her opinion. “So, if it wasn’t Madison, then who? Hm? Henry Clay? Chuck Schumer–?”

“Come on,” Y/N moaned. Much of her resistance came from the fact that they were dangerously close to the truth -- not that it mattered, as Alex was ignoring it anyway. “It was just some guy at the hotel; it’s not a big deal.”

“Pence?” Alex pressed, entirely undeterred. He gasped, pressing a hand to his heart as though scandalized. “Jefferson?”

Y/N was glaring daggers into his playful gaze. He was joking – of course, he was – but that didn’t stop the panic from rising in her throat, the burning at the tips of her ears. Thankfully, Angelica scoffed, apparently finding the idea too ridiculous to even entertain.

“Alex, don’t be silly,” Eliza interjected, putting a hand on his forearm. Her kind gaze had fallen to Y/N, who hoped dearly she was going to put an end to his taunting. That was before the impish smile spread across her lips. “Y/N would never get with a Republican. She’s too attached too her politics.”

“Oh?” The look in her eyes had Y/N skeptical.

“Of course.” Eliza nodded reasonably. “So it would’ve had to have been Lafayette.”

Y/N’s groan was even louder that time, before Angelica and Alex had a chance to chime in.

“Is that why you don’t want to be his roommate?” Angelica gasped. “Was it that bad?”

“Or was it just so good you wouldn’t be able to control yourself around him?” Alex wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and Y/N deadpanned. “C'mon, Y/N, you can tell us.”

“I didn’t fuck Lafayette!” she protested, but they didn’t seem ready to drop it.

“Then why not ask to be his roommate, hm?” Alex appeared to have claimed victory.

“Because I can’t–”

“Really,” Angelica interrupted her before she could protest. “It’d be a great place to stay, so if you two weren’t going at it, why wouldn’t you go for the offer?”

“And if you weren’t in–”

“Okay, enough.” Y/N cut Alex off with a huff. She wasn’t angry so much as flustered, try as she might to appear to be the former. By then, she was desperate to shift their focus from her sex life. “Will me agreeing to crash at Lafayette’s apartment get you off my back?”

She paused, if only for dramatic effect as her gaze flickered between her friends. “Then fine. Ask him. But don’t blame me when he’s not jumping at the idea of taking in a squatter.”

Alex looked annoyingly smug. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

----------------------------------------

Predictably, Lafayette was more than happy to have her stay with him. He’d never had an aversion to houseguests, but he’d be bluffing if he tried to claim he hadn’t taken a liking to her.

However, she knew it could only be temporary – couch-surfing across the District of Columbia, unfortunately, wasn’t a sustainable plan. She’d spent hours digging through her financials for some saving grace, but she came up with nothing. Perhaps a wealthy distant relative would die soon and she’d be given all of the inheritance as their only living descendant? Certainly seemed possible. Now just to sign up for Ancestry.com, and–

“How much do we have left?”

Her eyebrows shot up as she glanced back at Lafayette over her shoulder, cutting her musings short. She tucked the folder she was leafing through discreetly into the side of the cardboard box before her, careful to hide its label; she wasn’t proud of being caught with her nose buried into her old tax returns, trying to determine how feasible fraud or extortion might be.

Though he had been doing more work than Angelica and Y/N combined, Lafayette seemed to be the only one not exhausted. He stood in the doorway, hands on his hips and his expression bright as Y/N and Angelica packed up some of their final loose ends.

“Not much,” Y/N told him. “Just need to get everything else into these last couple boxes, and we’re golden.”

The three of them had spent the past few afternoons gutting her apartment of anything that wasn’t part of the building, so she wouldn’t be starting from scratch when she found a place. Initially, Y/N had commissioned Angelica to help her with the move, but when Lafayette heard through Alex that they’d intended to spend the next couple days on it, he absolutely insisted that they’d need his assistance.

“Is zere anything else I can do?” He continued into the room, eyebrows raised, and Y/N pursed her lips.

“Turn down the thermostat?” she asked. “We don’t need to be charged for another day of heating, no matter how cold it is out.” (They were in the midst of a blizzard, but to each their own.) “Besides, it’s too damn hot in here.” She huffed as she tugged at the hem of her turtleneck, and Angelica looked at her knowingly.

“Well maybe if you hadn’t needed to choose such a…” She paused, eyes settling somewhere around Y/N’s shoulder. “…strategic outfit, you wouldn’t be having any problem.”

Y/N’s hand instinctively flew up to cover the spot, despite knowing it was hidden under a solid inch of nappy wool, and Angelica grinned, self-content shining in her eyes. Y/N scowled as her friend mockingly fanned herself, pulling at the collar of her own shirt.

“Ang,” she warned. “Not the time.”

“What? Don’t want Lafayette to find out your dirty little secret?” Angelica teased, and Lafayette raised an eyebrow, his curiosity immediately piqued.

“Oh?” Lafayette’s gaze settled on the neck of her sweater, and Y/N glared at Angelica. She hardly stifled her snickering. Lafayette raised an inquisitive eyebrow, though as a grin split through his face, his gaze turned teasing. Angelica’s insinuation unfortunately wasn’t hard to follow. “Wearing zat because you 'ave something to hide?”

“Not you, too,” Y/N whined, and he laughed.

“Mmh, I don’t recall you having any problems with zis when we were in Detroit, chérie.” He folded his arms, expectant. “How 'ave you managed to go and get yourself into trouble this quickly?”

“Hang on,” Angelica cut in before she could respond. “She came back from Detroit with a hickey, though.”

“Impossible. I saw 'er ze last night there.” Lafayette furrowed his brow, and they both turned to Y/N for an explanation. “What, exactly, 'appened between ze final night of debates and when you left in ze morning?”

“It was just some guy from the hotel.” Y/N huffed. It was a half-truth, ultimately, which also made it her default response. “Stop making such a big deal out of it.”

“'Some guy from ze hotel’, hm?” Lafayette appeared wholly skeptical. He hesitated, considering his next words very carefully, before continuing. “You know, you never did tell me what 'appened with what I sent you on Twitter.”

Her eyes widened a fraction of an inch. There was no way he’d caught on that quickly.

“No correlation, Lafayette,” she said, her jaw tense. She couldn’t believe he’d actually connected the dots that quickly.

Yes, his Twitter conversation with Thomas about her had been earlier on the final day, and yes, everyone involved with the debates was lodged in the same hotel, but it seemed like a flimsy premise.

“Maybe not.” He shrugged. “But I am allowed to be curious about whether you ever… spoke to him.” His eyes again traveled to her neck with his last three words, and she glared. Angelica looked positively baffled.

That was when it hit her. It was her conversation with Thomas the night prior that had raised Lafayette’s suspicions. He’d already been wondering what about the state dinner had Thomas so pressed, and the confirmation about exactly how Y/N had spent her final night in Detroit all but spelled it out.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lafayette.” Y/N’s tone was final as she shut down his less-than-subtle speculation, even though Angelica and Lafayette shared a skeptical look. Neither of them was oblivious to the fact that there was something she wasn’t telling them. “I left the building long before him after the debates. Now can we please finish packing before they charge me another month’s rent?”

“Of course.” Lafayette’s tone was again light, having transitioned back to his cheerful self without missing a beat. The smile he wore then was slightly more knowing, however, and his gaze more calculating. He glanced at the floor around them. “So, which boxes need to be taken out, now?”

Y/N deadpanned. “All of them, Lafayette.”

----------------------------

Y/N didn’t have much luck finding a place from the comfort of Lafayette’s oversized, imported-leather sofa. Unfortunately for her, all the boxes she needed to check for a studio apartment seemed to be perfectly out of line with one another.

She wasn’t worried about the size. She didn’t have much; she didn’t need much space. Give her a place for a kitchen, a bed, and a toilet (ideally, a sink as well), and she was all set. So with that, price shouldn’t have been a terrible issue – she was flexible.

However, she couldn’t find a cheap studio apartment that didn’t have one ridiculously major pitfall. If it was close to work, the bathroom floor was beginning to cave in beneath her feet and the ceiling was leaking. If it was structurally sound, it was drowning in rats. If it was clean, none of the pipes worked. Her ideal didn’t seem to exist.

She ultimately had to swallow her pride, though she couldn’t help but choke on it in the process. Despite her resistance, she’d took Angelica’s advice to work at her godparents’ diner, but everything was a trade-off. Her second source of income meant spending less time on her real career – no more unpaid overtime, no more events off-the-clock, no more pouring hours into research every evening.

Her boss was happy to strike a compromise, to her delight. She’d do dramatically fewer of them, and events would be on the clock. However, she’d be obligated to cover every event that Ashley assigned her.

The lack of flexibility felt like a small price to pay. The next afternoon, it meant that Y/N didn’t have to attend another local Republican primary town hall, which meant another day that she could avoid confronting what’d happened in Michigan. (However, that meant she was being sent to a Jefferson campaign fundraiser just days later, but you can’t win them all.)

Instead, she took that time to go job-searching, which manifested itself strikingly similarly to Y/N begging her godmother for shifts.

“Mija, do you need money? You know you don’t have to be shy; you can ask us for it.” Y/N had shown up after her hours at the WaPo, and Mira pulled her by the elbow into the kitchen almost the moment she’d begun talking. She looked at Y/N with concern in her eyes, and Y/N sighed. This was exactly what’d caused her hesitance in the first place.

“Mira, I love you, but I can’t accept that.”

Mira furrowed her brow, tossed her dishrag over her shoulder before folding her arms. “And why not. Hm? You need it!”

“I know you only want the best for me, but I won’t just take your money. Let me work for it, okay?” What they both knew went unsaid – it’d stretch them thinner than thin to give Y/N any money, let alone enough to pay off her debts. “I’ve worked here before, more than once. I already know what I’m doing, so you won’t even have to train me. Just let me pick up some shifts?”

Though she pursed her lips, Mira refrained from arguing. It would be to little avail. “Fine. If it means having you around more often, it’ll be done gladly.” Mira put on an adoring pout, reaching up to try to pinch one of Y/N’s cheeks, who deflected it with a sigh that didn’t hold even the facade of exhaustion. “You don’t come around enough! We miss you, mija.”

“You’re too much, you know that?”

“And what’s wrong with that, hm?” Mira winked, a grin working its way onto her face, before she nodded toward the diner’s counter through the kitchen window. “I gotta go back to our customers, though. Talk to Jac about shifts, okay?”

“Sounds great.”

Mira pulled her in for a hug, kissed her on the forehead before leaving. (She had to pull Y/N down to reach her head.) “You know you can always come to us if you need help. Always.”

Y/N’s smile softened. “I know, Mira.”

“Good.” She held her gaze just a moment longer, squeezed Y/N’s hand, before she finally turned, leaving Y/N to look for Jac.

Jac – short for Jacinto, but none of their grade-school friends really tried to pronounce it, and the nickname had stuck – was Mira’s son. He was a year older than Y/N, and they’d grown up as siblings in every way but literally before they both moved to DC within months of one another. So when she spotted him over toward the front of the kitchen slicing a ham, she didn’t hesitate to go over and greet him, smile wide.

He jumped when she elbowed him to get his attention, letting out a yelp. He turned to see her, eyes wide, and he sighed. “Do you make a hobby of trying to get my thumbs cut off?”

She shrugged, feigning innocence. “I dunno what you’re talking about. I’d never put you in danger.”

“You pushed me while I had my hand in a meat slicer.”

“You put you in danger when you put your hand in a meat slicer.”

He scowled, though they both knew his annoyance wasn’t in earnest as he focused his attention back on his task. “What are you here for, anyway? If you want dinner, you’re not exempt from the line.”

“I need work.”

That got his attention. “You do?” His eyes were wide, and she shifted her weight where she stood, not eager to own up to her financial trouble. “What for? Aren’t you still doing great with the Washington Post? I saw you on TV last week.”

“You’ve been watching me?” She put a hand over her heart, playing up how touched she was by his attention, and he just rolled his eyes. “Aww, Jac, I knew you cared.”

“Answer the question.”

A beat passed. “I need a second job,” Y/N finally admitted, and he raised an eyebrow. “I just need another source of income. I’m drowning in student debt, and I need to build up some savings.” It was mainly true. She didn’t want to bring up her situation with rent, though; it’d just worry them more.

He pursed his lips, concern for her not leaving his gaze. “When are you available to work?”

“Any day after 5 PM, and I can almost always free up my full Saturday and Sunday.”

He nodded. “And what’d you when you worked here before?”

“Baking, usually.” His expression didn’t change for a moment, and she quickly added, “I also worked as a cashier and a barista from time to time, so if you need–”

“Relax, Y/N, you aren’t up for review.” Jac chuckled, wiping his hands on an old rag. She raised her eyebrows. “If you want work, it’s yours. Mira just has me in charge of the schedule, so I need to figure out when to give you shifts.”

“I’m flexible,” she added, and he gave her an amused smile.

“I know.” He went to the sink to wash his hands, in front of the kitchen window. “Would you be able to close up on weeknights? I mean, I feel like we can trust you not to rob the diner blind, and Mira and Orlando are too old to be working that late, so it’s me doing it every evening.”

“Yeah, absolutely.” She glanced out the window at the packed restaurant. “Is it always this busy?”

“Every lunch and dinner,” he confirmed with a nod. “They all clear outta here by about eight, though, so from then until nine, you’re just left watching the stragglers leave.”

She didn’t answer, eyeing the crowd before her. The diner really did do good business; the tables by the front window were packed to an impressive density, and she couldn’t figure out whether they were all there to eat together. (Surely that’s too many for one group at a table, right?)

A younger couple moved out of the space, and she immediately saw clear as day exactly why they were all crowded right there. Her breath caught.

There stood Thomas Jefferson, laughing, shaking hands, taking pictures, signing autographs. He was even handing out buttons. Y/N raised her eyebrows. Wasn’t he supposed to be at a townhall right then for the primaries?

“Jac,” she hissed, keeping her voice low as though Thomas would ever be able to hear her from there. Jac raised an eyebrow. “Is he allowed to just be… campaigning from the back of the room? Doesn’t he need some kind of permit to be handing things out?”

When Jac saw the crowd Y/N was staring at, he couldn’t help but laugh. “Listen, I know he’s not exactly your favorite person. I’ve read your writing–”

“You’ve read my writing?” she asked in disbelief, wearing a small smile as she pretended to be touched. He ignored it.

“–And I know you won’t exactly be lining up at the polls to vote for him, but he’s been a regular here for a couple of months, now, and Mom’s gotten attached. He’s not gonna get kicked out.”

All the while, her skeptical gaze stayed firmly fixed on his little posse, and when he looked up – she should’ve expected the result, really; he was facing the window she was looking out of – just a moment later, he locked eyes with Y/N from across the room.

Her eyes widened, but he seemed more surprised than she was. They both froze, hardly for a second, before he raised his eyebrow, his familiar (though unusually small) lopsided grin adorning his lips, and folded his arms across his chest – what a coincidence. His teasing front had taken root in seconds, but from that distance, Y/N was sure she was imagining the warmth of his gaze.

She blinked hard, as though she could’ve imagined him being there at all, staring back at her. He seemed detached from his immediate surroundings as she nodded to him in wary greeting. She had his focus for the time being.

After a moment, though, he appeared to have chuckled, shaking his head. When her gaze again met his rather pleased one, he gave her quite a pointed look as he brushed his thumb over the base of his neck, cocked his head to the side as though in curiosity. Her eyebrows shot up. It would’ve looked to anyone else like he’d simply smoothed out his collar, but she knew better.

She had to remind herself to keep breathing. His point was clear, his gaze expectant as she tried to hide her shame, reaching up to shift the neck of her shirt over the persistent hickey. All day at the office, her blazer had covered it, so when she left, she’d forgotten it would be exposed.

His smile seemed to grow as she reddened, and while she scowled, he held her gaze just a moment longer, before he sent her a sly wink. When he turned back to those around him, her interaction seemed to have heightened the flair in his demeanor, his persona suddenly exaggerated.

She didn’t realize that Jac had watched the whole interaction – he didn’t make the connection with the hickey, thank God, but the silent challenge had raised a number of questions.

“What was that?” he asked bluntly, and Y/N all but jumped, having nearly forgotten where she was.

Her eyebrows shot up. “What?”

“What do you think?” He cast a meaningful glance out the window at Thomas before looking skeptically at Y/N. “You know him a little better than you’re letting on?”

“Of course not,” Y/N scoffed. “I’ve just interviewed him a couple times. We’re acquainted. Don’t make it into a thing.”

“…Right.” He didn’t press further as heat rose to her cheeks.

She cleared her throat. “Anyway, about that schedule?”

---------------------------------

Despite her lack of success in house-hunting, Y/N adjusted easily to life at Lafayette’s. He was a gracious host, and just being there gave her access to more space, food, and alpaca-fur throws than she’d ever need.

She’d just finished showering on that Saturday afternoon while Lafayette was out at the store. They’d run out of something or other – she wasn’t keeping close track. All his food was a cut above what she usually ate, so she wasn’t about to make demands.

She yawned as she stepped out of the bathroom, wearing just a towel wrapped around herself; she knew she’d be alone in the loft for at least the next hour. She padded down Lafayette’s hardwood hall, intending to get the turtleneck (that was seeing more and more use) from the laundry before she went to change. However, it seemed she hadn’t heard the door to the apartment open over the sound of the running water sometime within the last twenty minutes.

It was after she’d retrieved her shirt that she realized it. Her room was on the other end of the loft from the room she’d elected to shower in. (It was an inconvenience she was winning to undergo – the master bathroom had a sauna, an oversized vanity mirror and a shower stall nearly larger than her bed).

She hummed absentmindedly to herself as she emerged into the also-oversized main room, but when she did, she stopped in her tracks, let out a squeak of surprise.

There, standing frozen less than a yard from her, was the bane of… well, her month, maybe. To call him the bane of her existence felt too harsh. His eyes must have been wider than hers, though she looked mortified as she stumbled backward toward the couch. “Thomas?!”

He hadn’t moved an inch from where he stood, facing her with shock in the open path that split the kitchen and the living room. “Y/N?

She sounded like she’d just had the wind knocked out of her as she asked, "What the hell are you doing here?”

“I have a lunch meeting with Lafayette,” he said simply as his gaze began to trail down her form suspiciously. Looking her in the eye, he cocked an eyebrow. “What are you doin’ here?”

“I’m staying here.” She nervously pulled her towel tighter around herself as his eyebrows shot up. His gaze was humorless – a rare sight, considering what she’d found to be his baseline.

“You’re stayin’ here?” he repeated in disbelief, and she nodded, feeling defensive. Again, his gaze drifted lower. “Is it just a one-night thing, or are you and Lafayette… ?”

She let out a short huff, almost a laugh in her shock. The implication was obvious. “Excuse me?”

“You’ll have to forgive me for assumin’.” Seeing her reaction, the offense he’d inadvertently provoked, he couldn’t help the small smile twisting his lips. She rolled her eyes as he slowly grew amused.

“It’s neither.” She scowled, skin feeling like it was on fire. The situation – the amount of specifically visible skin that felt like it was on fire – combined with his speculation had her feeling borderline humiliated. She shifted her towel further up her chest.

Thomas raised a teasing eyebrow. “Really, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call me that.” She glared up at him, in no mood for his clowning, and he chuckled.

“What, is that reserved for Laf?” he teased, and when she rolled her eyes, adjusting the towel she held around her, he laughed outright. “Aw, don’t take offense, I’m only–”

“You’re only joking,” Y/N finished for him, appearing unamused, though heat still settled in the back of her neck and the tips of her ears. “Yeah, I’ve heard this one before.”

His grin widened. “C'mon, don’t freeze me out.”

She ignored his response entirely. “Anyway, I’m just here as a houseguest. It’s all temporary; I’m kind of between apartments right now.” She hated that she felt like she had to explain herself, but she knew how it looked – her, walking into Lafayette’s living room hardly covered, and as far as Thomas knew, Lafayette couldn’t have been far.

“What typa houseguest?” That was as far as he decided to push it, though, snickering as Y/N’s glare burned into him. She shifted on her feet, uncomfortable as he eyed her before him, anxiety betraying her anger, and his gaze settled on the little mark on her neck she’d forgotten about in her temporary panic. Her eyes widened; he wasn’t about to ignore it.

He met her eyes once again, though his shone with a satisfaction she couldn’t prevent. “You know I’m only kidding,” he started, tongue in cheek as he tried to contain his amusement, and she looked at him in disbelief. “After all, if you were sleepin’ with Lafayette, you’d have a lot more than just one hickey, sweetheart.”

She groaned loudly at his words, her reaction making him laugh outright as she pinched the bridge of her nose, and while he looked unspeakably smug, she wasn’t entertained. Her skin still felt hot; she elected to believe it was from the shower she’d just left. “Alright, I’m gonna go change. Lafayette is still at the store, so he’s gonna be a little late to your meeting.”

Y/N began to walk off before he could say another word, but as she reached the opposite hallway, he called after her, the sound of his voice making her pause. She didn’t have the good sense to cut him off, which she began to regret the moment she could hear his cheeky smile in his tone. “Can’t complain, with this kinda company in the meantime.”

She slammed her door behind her, but its sound didn’t drown out his laugh.

She stood there idle for a moment, trying to gather her bearings and conjure up the strength to deal with him until Lafayette came back. She would’ve just stayed cooped up in there for the rest of the afternoon, waiting Thomas out, and she knew it would’ve worked – to her knowledge, he wasn’t that much of a pervert – but it was just before noon, and all she’d had that morning was a granola bar and a black coffee.

Y/N considered her options as she pulled on actual clothes, including the turtleneck she’d retrieved from the dryer. (She didn’t need any more comments.) Some part of her was simply desperate to avoid the awkwardness, or otherwise just her own discomfort, and instead wanted to burrow into her sheets and stream reality TV, but as she was about to give the thought precedence, her stomach growled in protest. She checked her phone. Lafayette had given no indication of when he’d be back.

Grudgingly, she returned to the kitchen, deciding that avoiding Thomas wasn’t quite worth her harrowing famine.

“Missed me already?”

She immediately second-guessed her decision, however. She paused in the hall, taking a deep breath to calm herself despite his raised eyebrow, his expectant smile, and she continued, keeping the Tupperware of Lafayette’s homemade pasta at the forefront of her mind.

“Missed Lafayette’s pantry,” she corrected, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Guess I’m just an added perk.”

She huffed out a sarcastic laugh as she opened the refrigerator, scanning the shelves for the chicken alfredo she had her heart set on. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never.”

She pursed her lips to hide what was becoming a soft smile, unironically that time – but she didn’t have to for long. After another moment of searching, she realized the Holy Grail of pasta leftovers was gone, apparently having been eaten in less than the past twenty-four hours, and she groaned, shutting the fridge and leaning against its door.

“What’s wrong?” She turned around to see Thomas sitting in one of the chairs Lafayette had stationed beside the kitchen’s island. He quirked an eyebrow.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She sighed dramatically, turning instead to the freezer to withdraw her plan B.

“Oh?” He looked thoroughly entertained at her theatrics, clearly not buying a moment of it. Y/N nodded, folding her arms.

“My pasta leftovers are gone.”

He snorted. “Oh, the horror.”

“Don’t you mock me!” She huffed as she dug through his food, bending down to withdraw everything she’d need for her second-choice lunch. “Now I have to eat old fries.”

“A true tragedy.”

“I’m glad you agree.”

He grinned at how matter-of-fact she sounded as she pulled out pre-packaged fries, and he leaned forward onto the counter, resting on his elbows. “Any chance I can get some water?”

She turned to him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s not my kitchen; do what you want.” She tipped the plastic bag into a bowl until it was just overflowing (the fact that they were smiley fries instantly improved her mood) before popping it in the microwave. However, when she reached up to grab a glass for herself, she pulled two down without thinking, filling them both.

When she turned back to him holding both cups of water, his smile was soft, but the moment she raised an eyebrow at him, a grin split through.

“I like the sweater,” he commented mildly, and she paused where she stood, giving him a dead stare. She stood there a moment as he bit back a laugh, before she turned.

“Nope. You’re not getting the water. Good try, though. I’m pouring it out.” She shook her head as she started walking back toward the sink, though she had to swallow the amusement that threatened to rise.

“Hey, c'mon!” he laughed, and Y/N glanced back at him over her shoulder. She raised an eyebrow. “Sweetheart.”

“Thomas.”

“Have some mercy,” he pleaded. He gave her a hopeful smile, eyebrows raised. “Would it help if I mentioned that I was just teasin’?”

A beat passed, and she didn’t move an inch. Ultimately, though, she scoffed as she turned back to him, caving with little resistance. He grinned when she slid him the second glass, though she rolled her eyes at his antics. “Y'know, you can only use that excuse so many times, Jefferson.”

“Seems to be working for me so far.” She leaned on the counter across from him, and he asked. “So why’re you livin’ with Lafayette?”

He looked inquisitively at Y/N as he took a sip of water, and she sighed. “Just… got into a bit of a bind with rent at my old place. Couldn’t have kept paying, so either I had to move out or they were gonna evict me.” She shrugged, looking down. “I’m just here until I can find somewhere I can afford.”

While most of the U.S. was no stranger to vanishing savings and student debt, Y/N had a feeling that Thomas was part of the small minority with no experience in the particular field. From what she knew of him, he’d been born into money and then proceeded to stay in it, so he wasn’t the first person she’d have chosen to admit her financial struggles to.

Still, when she looked up, he wore a small frown, apparently concerned. “’M sorry to hear that.” His voice was quiet, and she let out a dry laugh at the unexpected shift in his demeanor.

“Thanks, Thomas.”

He seemed to take the surprise in her tone as skepticism, and he pursed his lips. “Really, I am.”

She took a sip of her water, shaking her head in light amusement, but when he finally caught her eyes, her gaze was soft.

“I know.”

She held his stare another moment before she sighed, rolling her shoulders back and plastering on a smile. “Anyway, I’m in the lap of luxury until I find a new place, so I suppose I can’t complain.”

“You talkin’ about the penthouse or me?” Thomas didn’t miss a beat before in restoring his playful smile, and despite herself, Y/N laughed.

“Can’t it be both?” She quirked a brow, and he seemed pleasantly surprised at her response.

“You comin’ onto me?” he asked, incredulous, and she rolled her eyes – she’d dropped her front of annoyance by then, however. He sighed, giving her a contrived look of pity. “Oh, sweetheart, I hope I didn’t give you the wrong idea.”

“Shut up!” she scoffed, shoving his arm from across the counter, but his grin in response was contagious.

“I dunno, Y/N. I might have to report you to HR.” He raised his hands as though to claim defense. Her amusement didn’t subside.

“I’m sorry, did I cross a line?” she mocked him, and he cocked a brow.

“If this was crossing a line, then what was Detroit?”

Her breath hitched. The question caught her entirely off guard, her playful air giving way for her anxiety to take over. The traces of a grin still on his lips were the only remaining sign of his teasing demeanor, but despite them, she could see in his eyes that poking fun at her wasn’t the aim behind the question.

Really, what was Detroit?

She took a deep breath, not breaking his gaze. She didn’t have an answer for him – at least, not the sort of answer she knew he was looking for. She gave a small smile and raised an eyebrow, her voice quiet when she replied, “An HR scandal?”

Despite his small smile, he was searching her expression, looking for anything that might shed light on her ambiguity. He sighed, and neither looked away.

He looked like he was going to press the matter, and her pulse began to pick up, but she was saved by the bell. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, the front door opened.

“Y/N?”

They heard Lafayette before she saw him, and despite the mundanity of the scene he’d come home to, Y/N couldn’t help but feel like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, Laf.” Her voice was hesitant as he turned to lock the door behind him, balancing his paper bag of groceries on his knee.

He turned to the pair of them with a bright smile, pausing only a moment when he saw Thomas seated at the counter. He furrowed his brow. It wasn’t a second later when he appeared to be struck by realization, and he sighed, eyes wide as he walked over to put the groceries on the counter.

“Ah, Thomas, was today our lunch meeting?” The words were less of a question than an admission. “I am so sorry; I put it down on my calendar for ze wrong afternoon. I am still available, if you are not too angry after my being zis late?”

“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He shrugged. Anything pensive about his demeanor had seemingly been pushed down when he saw Lafayette. He flashed him a carefree grin. “Didn’t have anything else to do today.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, though he still appeared apologetic. “You are too forgiving.”

It was then that he reached the kitchen to put away the food he’d bought, and he glanced over his shoulder, looked between Thomas and Y/N where she leaned over the counter toward him. He turned back to the pantry to hide the grin Y/N knew he wore. “Although, I am sure Y/N was very…” He met her gaze, eyes narrowed, and she wore a warning stare. “…accommodating. Non?”

He didn’t think Thomas could see it as he sent Y/N a sharp wink, but he wasn’t quite as sly as he’d like to believe. Y/N scowled. All three of them knew his words suggested more than their surface implied.

Thomas was grinning, however. While Y/N’s face was burning, he seemed wholly amused. “'Course, Laf. She’s been nothin’ if not hospitable.”

She looked over at him with dead eyes, and his smile just seemed to broaden.

“I am glad to hear it.” Lafayette raised an eyebrow at Y/N as he finally rejoined the pair, eyes shining. “Maybe I do not 'ave to feel so guilty about being late, hm?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, pushed herself off the counter to retrieve her long-forgotten fries from the microwave. “Don’t you two have a meeting to get to?”

“Of course, chérie.” The charm in his smile was contrived. “Let me go get my notes from my study?”

The words were directed at Thomas, who shrugged amiably. “Meet you back down here.” However, the moment Lafayette left, he leaned on his elbows over the counter, tongue in cheek, and raised an eyebrow at Y/N. “Any idea why Lafayette’s actin’ like he knows somethin’ I don’t, sweetheart?”

He looked unbelievably smug, though he raised his eyebrows with feigned innocence, and Y/N glared. “No clue.”

Though she left the room in a huff, she couldn’t help the smile that persisted for the next hour.

-------------------------------------

Y/N sent: you showed up late on purpose didn’t you

By that point, it’d been just over three hours since Thomas had arrived, and for Y/N, having to write yet another article about him hadn’t proved to be much of a distraction. Unable to stop fixating on the afternoon’s events, she ultimately texted Lafayette, not bothering to sugarcoat the accusation.

Lafayette sent: what do you mean? i would never stand someone up

Lafayette sent: i hope you are not accusing me of having ulterior motives. i am a principled man.

Y/N rolled her eyes at that.

Y/N sent: convenient timing for you to decide we needed a second backup gallon of milk

Lafayette sent: i am just trying to keep my houseguest well provided for

Lafayette sent: how ungrateful

Y/N sent: and what, exactly, were you trying to provide today??

Lafayette sent: i have no idea what you are talking about. it was just a gallon of milk.

Lafayette sent: however, in completely unrelated news that has nothing to do with today, you should not ignore it when opportunity knocks

Lafayette sent: or when he rings the doorbell, i suppose

Y/N sent: he let himself in. feels like breaking and entering.

Lafayette sent: even less work for you

Lafayette sent: i try to be helpful when i can

Y/N sent: we have very different ideas of help

Lafayette sent: you don’t have to interpret something as a gift for it to be one

Y/N sent: was the gift the complete lack of pasta you bought to replace mine??

Lafayette sent: i think you know the answer

She did, of course, but his words also had her thinking. Lafayette obviously saw himself as having done her a favor, but really, Y/N had to ask herself: did she see it as a gift? It was an unfortunately nerve-wracking half hour. It was one of only three times she’d ever been alone with him, and the first since Michigan.

Was it really a gift, or had he actually set her a trap?

She threw her phone onto the bed with a huff.

240 notes · View notes

shadow-assassin-blix · 3 years

Text

Be Still, My Heart

Part 3

A/n: Last official part. Will do headcanons/blurbs for them but for now this story is done.

Everything: @mikeisthricedeceased

Pedro: @m-123 @fioccodineveautunnale @artsymaddie @blo0dangel @mcrmarvelloki

The morning started normally; she was reviewing some files when she first got into the office. She smiled softly when Marcus arrived and sat down across from her at his desk.

The team slowly filed in, and by noon they were transferring files to the team that was taking over for them. They had barely started the process when the head supervisor, Martinez, came in and asked to speak to her.

Steel stood up and followed him to his office. The meeting lasted an hour when Steel was finally sent back out. Marcus noted her face looked blank, but her eyes were rimmed red. She quietly began to pack her desk up.

“…What is going on?” He asked her, coming to stand near her.

“… Short version: I’m fired. Or “asked to take early retirement at half benefits,”” She muttered shortly, tossing things into an empty file box without care.

She refused to look up at him as she did this and quickly grabbed the box and her things before striding to the elevator to leave.

Marcus stared at where she stood in confusion, moving to Martinez’s office to get answers.

“Why did you fire Steel?” He asked as he burst into the office.

He noticed vaguely that the head of the gang unit was also in there.

“Agent Y/L/N was ordered to not go near Felix Hernandez. Her attachment to him causes a great deal of issues. He was arrested 20 minutes ago, asking for her. Her continued involvement within the agency could destroy the RICO case that we have been working on for years. This was the best route,” Martinez informed him with a sigh.

Marcus took a heavy breath, running his hand over his face.

“Why was he asking for her?” Marcus questioned looking at both of them.

“Hernandez apparently named her the emergency guardian for Valentina. Steel was given two options: relinquish guardianship and keep her job or keep it and leave the agency. She chose the latter,” Agent Lowell from the Gang Unit filled in.

“You gave her the option… to abandon a child to the foster system just to keep her job? Did you really think she would do that?” Marcus asked astounded.

He turned and left at that point. He marched to the elevator, determined to catch up to Steel. He found her at her home, sitting outside on her steps. Her arms were wrapped her knees and chin rested atop them.

He took a seat next to her, “Martinez and Lowell told me what happened. What do you need me to do?”

“Tomorrow I go in to see Felix and confirm everything. By the end of the week, Valentina will be with me. I… I know you didn’t sign up for this… I… I don’t know what to do beyond this,” She whispered, sniffling as tears welled up in her eyes.

“Well. I still want to be with you… If… I know this is fast but… my place in DC has 3 bedrooms… You and Valentina can stay with me… if you’d like,” Marcus offered.

“According to the child protective services, we have to stay here for at least 6 months. I don’t want you to stay here and put your career on hold for me. We can… skype and call/text. I just… I still want to be with you as well, I just don’t want you to stop living just for us,” She said to him after a moment.

“Okay. 6 months. I can deal with that. 6 months and the 2 of you come live with me,” Marcus replied with a nod.

She gave a watery smile, hoping that the distance and time wouldn’t put a strain on their relationship.

“So… shall we unpack…everything? Or would you like to keep some of it packed still?” Marcus asked sighing heavily as he realized their work over the weekend was for naught.

“I’d rather not unpack everything. Just the necessary items should be enough. I’m sorry. I… I didn’t think this would happen,” She murmured, staring up at the sky.

“I know. Let’s go get you situated, and tonight I’ll make you dinner. Do… do you want me to take you to the prison tomorrow to see Felix?” He hesitantly inquired as he stood back up.

“Yeah… I’d like that. Honestly, I don’t know how I am going to react tomorrow. He… he dropped a bomb in my lap,” She said swallowing harshly, her mouth dry, as she stood up as well.

“I’ll be there every step of the way, no matter what,” He assured her, kissing her firmly.

She kissed him back, feeling the tension in her body leave her. There was something about Marcus that just instantly relaxed her.

The two of them unpacked a handful of boxes that afternoon. After that Marcus made her pancakes and eggs. She laughed as she watched him try to flip them and be fancy. He made her forget about her worries for the time.

He stayed with her that night; nothing happened, but she wished it did. The two of them shared her bed; Steel didn’t want to be alone and enjoyed cuddling with him.

The next day came around far sooner than she wanted, and she dreaded the trip to the prison. Each step she took toward the visiting room made her feel like she was walking to her doom. She took a seat at the table she was directed to by one of the guards.

It didn’t take long for Felix appear, nor for his scummy lawyer to materialize out of nowhere. His lawyer presented her with some documents and a pen.

Felix stared at her for a long time, not speaking.

“Felix. Let’s just get this over with please,” Steel quietly pleaded.

He blinked, clearing his throat, “Yeah. I named you Valentina’s guardian. Your… your old boss has quite the case against me. I’m… I’m take a plea bargain. But… it still means time in the clink… like… 15 years’ worth at least. Valentina’s only 14. She… she needs someone. I don’t want to go away for that time and let her wind up in the foster system. She… listens to you. Loves you.”

“I love her too. I am willing to take her but… you cost me my job. Twice if we are going to be honest. I won’t deny her if you want to keep in touch but… I don’t want to ever see you again. I can’t…” She struggled to speak.

“I understand. If I may say so… I did… I did love you. Even after…everything. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you,” He said looking her in the eye.

She nodded her head once, turning her attention to the lawyer. He proceeded to explain that Valentina was to stay in one stable home for at least 6 months until the trial is over before Steel would be allowed to move or relocate. There were other terms and conditions that Steel understood and signed on the dotted line once it was all said and done.

“It will take about 2 business days for these to process. You can pick up Valentina from her group home by the end of the week,” He informed her once everyone signed and he walked away.

“Take care of my baby sister. Um. What he didn’t mention was that there is an account setup for her. All legit money for her to use. She has a limit on what she can spend monthly but once she turns 18 that limit disappears,” He mentioned, as he used the abandoned pen and scrap paper to write the info down.

She took the paper from him, nodding in understanding.

“I’ll take care of her, I promise. Do her a favor… don’t get yourself killed in here. She’s already lost a great deal of family… Don’t let her lose the only person she admires the most,” Steel requested as she walked away from him.

She took a deep breath of relief as she finally stepped outside of the prison and over to Marcus; she had asked for him to wait outside for her.

He drove her not to her home, but to his. The two of them spoke quietly, watching movies for the rest of the day.

At some point, Marcus figured out she was ticklish and was ruthless. She tried to squirm away from him, but he had her securely pinned to the couch. When he finally stopped, and she was able to catch her breath, her eyes locked with his.

She had one thought running through her mind and she slowly reached up to kiss him passionately. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands cupped her face. As they kissed, she experimentally rolled her hips against his. He lowly moaned into her mouth as the kiss intensified and their hands began to wander and explore.

He pulled away for them to catch their breath.

He stared at her and quietly asked, “Do… do you want… I mean… shall we move this somewhere more comfortable?”

Steel nodded and the two of them made their way into his room to finish what they had started.

In the early hours of the morning, Marcus woke to his phone buzzing quietly. He blindly reached for it as he blinked awake. He looked at his phone to see he had missed a call from Teresa. He stared at his phone confused, wondering why the hell she was contacting him.

He ignored his phone, not wanting to deal with her. He turned his attention to Steel who was passed out on his chest. He smiled down at her, kissing the top of her head as he settled back down into her arms. He fell asleep hoping that the time apart wouldn’t break them. He wasn’t sure if he could deal with another heartbreak.

Over the next few weeks, Marcus and Steel spent time together while also adjusting to the new addition in their life: Valentina.

At first Valentina wasn’t… thrilled to say the least… at meeting Marcus and finding out what he meant to Steel. Valentina always believed that Steel and her brother would get back together. Valentina was at times cold or standoffish when interacting with Marcus.

However, that changed when the two of them bonded over art. Marcus was a bit of an artist himself, despite his denials that he was any good. The two of them spent hours talking about their favorite artists and painting together.

By the time Marcus was set to leave DC, Valentina was just as sad as Steel to see him leave.

He assured the both of them that 6 months will pass by faster than they’ll realize.

“I’ll call, skype, text, everyday if need be,” Marcus promised them as the two of them hugged him goodbye.

“You better,” Valentina warned him shaking her finger at him.

Marcus and Steel shared one last kiss before he left.

6 Months Later

Marcus was working undercover in DC and was on his way home from his day of work. He was trying to stifle multiple yawns as he pulled up to his house, smiling when he heard his phone ringing. He parked as he answered the video call.

“Hello, my beautiful ladies. How are we today?” He asked them as he stepped out of his car.

“We’re doing great… in fact… you should turn around handsome,” Steel’s voice teased.

He did so, spotting a car pulling up to the curb. Any exhaustion he felt immediately left him as he spotted Steel and Valentina sitting in the car that was packed with stuff.

Valentina raced out to tackle him in a hug. He grunted softly as he wrapped his arms around her, returning the embrace.

“My goodness, you’ve gotten taller, my mini-Rosa Bonheur,” Marcus said with a smile, referring to one of her favorite artists.

“Hi, we wanted to surprise you! Are you surprised?” She asked excitedly.

“Very,” He said turning his attention to Steel as she walked up to join them.

“Hey handsome,” She greeted him as she held her arms out for a hug as well.

Marcus thought about hugging her but instead hooked his fingers into her belt, jerking her forward to pull her in for a kiss.

She smiled as they kissed, having missed kissing him. She also found she really enjoyed the feel of his scruffy beard. Her hand reached up to touch it, gently scratching at the feel of it. When she broke it, she giggled softly at the tickling situation she felt.

“Hm. Could get used to this. Shall we get inside my love?” She asked motioning toward the front door.

He nodded with a grin, leading the both of them inside. He showed Valentina where her room was; he had kept the room somewhat bare simply so that way she can decorate however she wants. Valentina was excited at the prospect of decorating it how she wants but was also tired. She curled up in the bed and passed out almost immediately.

Marcus and Steel chuckled softly at that, before leaving her to sleep. Marcus led Steel to the master bedroom, presenting the empty drawers and the empty half of the walk-in closet that he had set aside for her.

“I’ve missed you,” He whispered after a moment.

Steel looked at him, noticing he looked at her with an indescribable look.

She stood in front of him, looping her arms around his neck.

“I missed you too honey. These last 6 months have been… rough. Video calls and texts were simply not enough. I hope you are ready to take me out on many real dates and spend lots of time… acting out all of those whispered promises and salacious thoughts we’ve shared,” She flirted with him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

“Very ready. I’ve hated this time apart. Honestly… I was worried… that.. that we wouldn’t…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“I know. Not going to lie, I had the same fears at first. However, I realized one thing in our time apart,” She said mysteriously.

“Oh? What’s that?” He questioned curiously.

“I love you,” She revealed gazing into his eyes.

His breath caught slightly at that; he was overwhelmed with emotions as the words danced around in his ears.

He picked her up suddenly, carrying her to the bed. As he placed her on it, and moved to hover over her, he kissed her several times. After about 10 kisses he said the words back, loving the smile that shined on her face.

The both of them were too tired to do anything more, but they spent some time kissing and enjoying one another’s company.

The next day, between the movers arriving and unpacking her car, it was a long and exhausting day. It took another week for everything to be fully unpacked.

The three of them spent their free time simply enjoying one another’s company while watching movies or enjoying dinners out. It was summertime which meant no school for Valentina so Marcus spent a great deal taking them to every museum or park he could think of.

Before they knew it a year had passed, his undercover work was done. To celebrate they were going to do something he never thought he would do: get a tattoo.

He wanted something small and simple; he chose a bullseye with two circles on his wrist.

“Circles to represent the most important people in my life,” He explained as the artist prepped his skin for the tattoo.

She smiled somewhat shyly at that, as she took hold of his free hand for him to squeeze through the pain. The tattoo took about 30 minutes and Marcus definitely crushed her hand a few times, but it was worth it.

As they drove home that night, Marcus was oddly chipper as they reached their house. Valentina had become friends with the girl next door and was sleeping over with her that night, so they had the house to themselves.

Steel had wandered into the kitchen to start making dinner when Marcus stopped her.

“I’m not… I’m not very good at this. I have a pretty bad history when it comes to this but here we go,” He began as he turned her to face him. “I am so deeply in love with you. You have made my life complete. You are always so attentive to me and checking to make sure I am okay. Something… I am not used to, I will admit. I have been divorced and had the world’s shortest engagement. I haven’t been with anyone who… who loves me unconditionally. You are my sunshine. The light of my life.”

He gradually got down on one knee and simply asked, “Will you marry me?”

He presented a simple ring with a glittering sapphire as the centerpiece with smaller diamonds circling it.

She tried to bite back the grin that threatened to appear, as tears formed in her eyes. She found she couldn’t speak and nodded her head enthusiastically, holding her left hand out.

Marcus slipped the ring onto her finger, standing up to kiss her passionately.

They had found each other out of happenstance and neither of them ever thought they would reach this point. Their hearts had been broken too many times before and love appeared to be a distant dream. They knew in that moment they had found the person they were meant to be with.

Bonus Scene:

Marcus who was up before Steel the next morning was drinking coffee and making pancakes when he heard the front door open, and a set of feet rush inside.

He turned to see Valentina racing into the kitchen.

“Did she say yes!?” She asked excitedly as she ran up to him.

Marcus nodded his head laughing at the cheer she gave.

“So, the tattoo idea worked? The whole “you complete me” thing?” She questioned further.

The two of them had come up with this idea a month ago.

Marcus said, “Yes. It did. She loved it. And I now have a tattoo that I can add on to if we decided to ever give you siblings or even pets.”

She paused in her happy dance at that last line.

“Siblings? Like… I mean… are you… are you saying you see me as your kid?” She hesitantly asked.

“Thought that was obvious little one. If you would like… and we’ll talk it out with Steel but… would you be okay if we adopted you? Steel has guardianship of you, yes, but this would make it more official, if you wanted,” Marcus suggested as he finished up the pancakes.

Valentina stared at him with wide eyes, blinking owlishly. After a moment she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

He heard her lightly mumble that she’d like that, as he noticed Steel quietly step into the room, a smile on her face.

“Guess we should get on that then huh?” Steel said as she took a seat at the island.

Valentina pulled away to go give Steel a big hug as well. Marcus watched his two favorite girls talk and cry happy tears. If someone had told him 2 years ago that he would one day be engaged and about to adopt a child, he wouldn’t have believed them. This was better than anything he ever could have dreamed of and it all started because a woman with nerves of steel walked into his office.

#marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #marcus pike

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