#gwen you posh idiot

[tsatsuma69]

gwendolyn "she's an actual lady" bouchard you fucking idiot there is noone more dangerous than a british lady in tweed with a gun

[usaigi]

Chapter 1 - Deal With The Devil

Read on Ao3

Summary (T) Earth 65 AU where Elektra is Daredevil and was hell-bent on killing her ex Matt Murd(er)ock but she’s in therapy now and is channeling her energy into helping Spider-Women defeat him instead. Semi-comics/Marvel movies crossover. Elektra and Matt are mostly based on the Netflix version and Gwen is based on Into the Spiderverse.

In another world it’s Friday evening; Gwen just aced her Physics midterm and is ready to enjoy her weekend. MJ would still be pissed because (somehow) Gwen still managed to be late to band practice. Although Gwen thinks MJ seriously needs to calm down, they’ve been practicing nonstop Gwen’s even practicing in her dreams. MJ annoyed groans would echo in her head, Gwen you’re early, you don’t come in until after Betty. MJ would ask everyone to stay late but Gwen would turn her down, already having promised Peter they’d get takeout and watch a movie. Peter would wait for her at the subway stop, with a wool scarf in his bag because it’s freezing and he knows Gwen is still walking around in a hoodie because she’s too stubborn to wear that embarrassing pink puffer jacket her dad bought her. 

Unfortunately, the real world sucks and she’s not just trash for showing up late to practice. She’s literally trash. In her trash home amongst her trash kin. 

Worst part is she has no one to blame but herself. She’s the idiot who tripped off a building and nose-dived into a dumpster. Which could be worst–she could be red sauce on the ground next to the dumpster. Never in Gwen’s wildest dreams did she think she’d be grateful to be lying in a dumpster on a Friday night instead of falling to her death. 

The slight ringing in her eyes halts as she hears footsteps approach. Quiet, pretend to be a rat, Gwen says to herself. A true New Yorker. 

“Spider-Women? What the hell are you doing in my dumpster?” An unfamiliar voice asks. Slowly, Gwen raises her head and opens her eye and– Fuck. 

Daredevil.

Gwen has heard plenty about the infamous Daredevil. The woman who bought the Kingpin down to his knees and personally delivered his ass to her father, along with a fat stack of incriminating documents to the police precinct and the district attorney’s office. Rumors were even going around that she tied a collar around his neck and made him walk around like a dog when she turned him in, like some sort of dominatrix. If Captain George Stacy wasn’t quite literally her dad, Gwen might have even humored the rumors. 

That’s one of the more fantastical and silly rumors going around about Daredevil, like the rumor that Lea Michelle can’t read. Like, everyone knows it’s a joke but still acts like it’s the truth. The other rumors are less so rumors and more so warnings. 

Those that Daredevil is brutal; brutal enough she might as well be the devil. A demon walking around Hell’s Kitchen. Dangerous. Dynamic. Deadly. According to sources (totally not Reddit), it does not fair well for anyone who stands between her and her swords. 

As much as Gwen respects someone who commits to her branding, she was hoping to avoid Daredevil and her little hand pitchforks sword things for as long as possible. Welp. Too late now.

“What’s it you?”

“My neighborhood. My turf. My dumpster.”

God, she’s scary. And British? Gwen isn’t totally sure, she just sounds ambiguously “posh.” Her sharp voice echoes through the alleyway, bouncing off the walls of dumpster wall, with all the elegance and cadence of the Queen. Barf. Or at least some BBC reporter. Or whatever stuffy British person. Honestly, the only good thing to come from Europe is the Punk movement. 

“You’re so weird about the whole Hell’s Kitchen thing. What happens if someone–”

“If Someone on 60th and Amsterdam get mugged, huh? Baby, trust me I’ve heard this before. If I can help of course I will help. My therapist just encouraged me to have obtainable expectations at work and to not overexert myself. Something you clearly… haven’t learned.” Ok, rude. 

“You’re seriously in therapy? Don’t you regularly beat up guys half to death?”

“Half to death. Pre-therapy they’d just be dead. That’s called personal growth,” she says as she pulls down the scarf covering the lower half of her face, revealing a smug smile. Ugh, of course, her lipstick color is flawless and a perfect swatch of red. She’s silent for a second, tilting her head to the side, before asking, “you finish your homework already?”

“It’s Friday,” Gwen groans. 

“Fair. Though it is past midnight, your parents won’t worry?”

“Nah, Dad’s working today.”

“Ok so high school. Damn, I knew you were young but I expected you to be at least in college.”

Oh shit. Dammit, Stacy! 

“Wait what?” 

“So how long have you been… a crime-fighting spider or whatever. And don’t lie, I can tell,” she says as places her hand on her hips. Wouldn’t be too intimidating if it weren’t of the reflecting bouncing off her silver weapons. 

“Look, I don’t know what your deal is but I’m not interested–”

“My deal is there’s a punk kid running around my neighborhood who’s going to get herself seriously injured or killed if she continues to be this reckless. Not only that, but you’ve been sticking your nose in my shit and I can’t have you fucking it up for me,” she sneers, each word feeling like Daredevil is cutting into her. “But I’m not lying, I’m in therapy. I’m less of a raging bitch now. Me five years ago would use my ninja-spy skills to find everything about you; every weakness, every move, and everything on everyone you’d ever loved just for messing with my shit. Now, I recognize that we both want to help our city in our little way and we’ll be more successful working together.” Damn, the tone shift. From Cersei Lannister to a school guidance counselor in seconds, holy shit. 

“I don’t need anyone to tutor me in the ways of being a superhero, I’m fine on my own. I don’t need anyone’s help.”

“Is that why you’re in a dumpster?”

“I’m just taking a little break. Self-care.”

“There’s a condom in your hood.”

“What! Ew ew ew ew,” Gwen squeals, bolting upright and jumping out of the dumpster. 

Oddly enough something must have caught Daredevil’s eyes, seeing as she makes her back towards the dumpster, stepping up onto the edge. Daredevil pulls out one of her sword pitchforks and uses the flat side to fish out–Gwen’s smartphone by the key charm. Ahhh. She really can’t do anything right today. 

“Seriously, you’re using your real phone when crime-fighting? Please tell me you’re smart enough to turn off your location,” Daredevil taps something into her phone before tossing it back to Gwen. “Anyways, here’s my number. I’ll train you, I’ll text you tomorrow,” and now she has a vocal fry? Seriously, what’s this lady’s deal? Did one of Kardashian seriously put on a suit to start fighting criminals?  

“Seriously!? You’re just leaving?” Gwen cries out. 

“Work-life balance, babe. I got a photoshoot tomorrow, I need my 8 hours. Go home, you also need it. And take a shower.”

And like that, the Devil disappears into the dark. 

Weird.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Despite being someone living a double life who has high sakes in securing anonymity, Gwen can’t deny her love for TikTok. Well, it’s not that she loved it per se, it’s just that she rarely has time to sit down and read a book or watch an actual TV show. With school and Spider-Women-ing, she barely has time to eat. While a “normal girl” could play youtube videos in the background while working out, she has to go through science flashcards while stretching if she even hopes of getting into college.         

Fifteen minutes. That’s all she’ll give herself. Fifteen minutes to turn her brain off and watch dumb videos. A video by Brenna Lip of some cops jumping the subway turnstile, double tap scroll, a recommendation to a new ramen restaurant, scroll, a video of herself swinging through Manhattan, nice. 

Then she freezes.

It’s the girls. Betty is holding a microphone and lip-syncing to trending audio by Elektra Natchios. ‘What’s your ideal man like?’ Betty asks before the camera turns to MJ, as she confidently brushes her hair back and says , ‘Funny. He has to have a really good sense of humor. But he can’t be broke. Because that’s not funny.’ 

Gwen lingers, letting the video play a couple of times. 

Would they have invited her to make the video if she were still in the band? Do they send each other TikTok ideas in the group chat? Could Gwen have found a way to still be in the band? 

She clicks on the comment button, blankly staring at her keyboard as the video plays over and over in the background. Just say hi. Anything.  

A notification banner breaks her trace, a text message from an unknown number, ‘Meet me at 10’ along with an address in Hell’s Kitchen. 

Stop feeling sorry for yourself, she says before tossing her phone on her bed. Time to be a Superhero. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

If anyone asks, Gwen’s only going because she’s curious. And that’s also why, for the first time in her life, she might actually be early to something. Shocker, right? Because like, what can Gwen really expect to learn from Daredevil; how to torture bad guys or something? Ok, maybe Gwen can learn a thing or two from her considering she personally helped the DA lock up Fisk. That’s probably not something Gwen can learn from YouTube. 

So as Gwen swings through Manhattan and lands on the rooftop, she’s expecting to find stakeout or spy gear or something. Or maybe even a guy tried up to a chimney if there’s any truth to all the rumors about Daredevil being a Satanist. Hopefully not, the Daily Bugle already labeled Spider-Woman a menace, Gwen doesn’t need to also be associated with cultists.   

Reality is someone more unexpected.

There’s no way…What the hell!

Never. Never ever. In a million years did Gwen expect to find fashion model and influencer Elektra Natchios cosplaying as Daredevil at the exact time and place she’s suppose to meet with the Daredevil. Elektra is wearing the same black loose cargo pants, the same black long-sleeve top with red accents and the double DD on the chest, the same utility belt with an excessive amount of pockets, and the same long red scarf flowing loosely from her neck. The red helmet with the icon horn sat by her feet. 

Gwen bets she looks like surprised Pikachu right now. 

“No. Way. You’re Elektra Natchios? You’re Daredevil!?” Surely this is a joke. Surely she’s cosplaying or something. 

“Yeah,” she says, drawing out the vowels before her voice trailed off. Ignoring Gwen's blatant state of disbelief as she bent down to pick up her signature Daredevil helmet. Gwen's jaw just stays open as her brain tries to process it. 

“What the hell is wrong with you!? Aren’t you the daughter of a Greek politician or something!? Aren’t you a model!? You have how many followers on TikTok!? Didn’t you date the Weekend!?” Not that Gwen cares about celebrities and influences or whatever, she’s much more interested in indie rock music, but it’s not like she lives under a rock. Although, the only reason she knows about Elektra is because she says a lot of “relatable” shit in interviews that get turned into memes. That and her hot takes about feminism, classism, and racism that always make their way to her TikTok feed. 

“What about it?” She asks innocently, fluttering her eyes, as if obvious to the absurdity of the situation. 

“Why the hell are you dealing out vigilante justice!?” 

“Why are you?”

“Because I can! Because I have to!”

“No, you don’t. You don’t want to do anything you don’t want to. What’s the real reason?”

This lady can’t be serious. Of course, she did. Or else–

“Because I want to help people because I can help people. Even if the public doesn’t trust me, or label me a criminal or murderer, I have to try,” she says a bit softer, looking down at her feet instead of Elektra’s eyes. Or else Peter’s sacrifice will be in vain.

Elektra doesn’t say anything, letting the sounds of the city speak. That of traffick and the Hudson and people eight stories down. 

When Gwen breathes a little and looks up, Elektra is wearing her helmet. The scarf is still loosely around her neck.

“Cute. I do it for revenge,” she says in her deep scary Daredevil voice. Despite the mask, Gwen can feel Elektra’s eyes staring into her. There’s the devil. 

“Revenge?”

“Yup. My ex-boyfriend killed my dad.”

“Oh that sucks. Wait sorry! That’s insensitive, I mean, that’s horrible. I have no idea, I’m sorry you had–”

“You’re funny,” Elektra laughs, cutting her off. “You’ve heard of Matt Murdock, right? Wilson Fisk’s lawyer.”

“I wish I hadn’t,” Gwen groans, rubbing the back of her neck. She’s not supposed to know but she’s overheard her dad talk about Murdock a couple of times. Apparently a real pain in their ass. 

“You’re going to help me bring him to justice.”

[miggydiaz]

OC asks: 3, 11, 21, 36, 50, & 92

I love that you are always ready to assist me in procrastination, what would I do without you?

3. What is the meaning behind their name? Do they have any nicknames? Jinx’s nickname being Jinx stems from sharing her full name with her grandmother. Virginia Louise Holliday I, also known as Ginny, is a witchy old woman who lives at the border of Riverdale/Greendale in a small house where she feeds a ton of stray cats. She has a rocking chair on her front porch, and sometimes sits there with a shot gun that she once threatened Grandpa Forsythe with because he was being a drunk menace to her husband. Her daughter, Gwen, decided to name her own daughter after her mother because her mother has big 70′s second wave feminism energy and even though she can be a bit... chaotic, she’s still a wonderful woman. But Ginny was taken as a nickname, and so she went with Jinxie (which became shortened to Jinx as she got older) instead. Jughead calls her Jinxie when he’s being deliberately and over the top patronizing. He calls her Virginia when he wants to get on her nerves. And her girlfriend, Bernie, calls her Jinxie (affectionate). Matt is just... he’s an every day guy, you know? Played football in high school. Wanted to be an actor. Lost his dad in a robbery and decided to become a cop for ~Good~ and ~Noble~ reasons but is disillusioned with the reality of it. Every Matt I’ve ever known has been a good guy, if not a little messy, and just trying to make it work and that’s Matt Turner in a nutshell. 11. If they could make a mark on history, what would they like it to be? 

Jinx is funny because even though she’s a musician, she actually hates being like... the center of people’s attention. She gets very uncomfortable when people are complimentary of her, but I mean... also, she wouldn’t hate leaving a legacy like Freddie Mercury’s behind either. 60,000 people all singing along to one of her songs in unison at a festival 30 years after her death? Yes please. Matt is more interested in doing what he can to dismantle gross police work from the inside. He is very aware of the ACAB principle (and tbf, that’s also my position so Matt is like... what I WISH cops were? Without being copaganda?), but also, he’s on the inside so he might as well do what he can to actually help. He just loves the community he lives in, and wants to make it better. It’s not a great neighborhood, but he tries to offer an alternative to calling the police to people that he knows or recognizes as coming through the station before. I mean, it’s still technically calling the police, but if he can diffuse a situation without it having to go on the books? He’d rather do it that way. He could be a community activist in another world, but he just wants to be a good example of what community policing could and should be like.

21. What is their favorite thing about their personality? 

Jinx is fiercely loyal to the people she cares about because there’s like... a small handful of them. She is 100% the girl you call when you need something because she just has no compunction about doing whatever needs to be done, as long as it’s for one of her people. She will take secrets to the grave. Trust is a VERY important thing for her because of a horrible past relationship, and she treats it with the utmost respect.

For Matt, it’s his personality. He thinks he’s hilarious... to varying degrees of delusion. He will take things seriously when he needs to, but he is the first one to try and bring levity to the situation. A bit of a goofball, but he just really enjoys making people laugh.

36. What is their sense of humor like? Give an example of a joke they would find humorous. Jinx is a riffer. She’s not much of a ‘let me tell you a joke’ sort of person, but she loves to banter off the cuff, and her and Jug can and will just say stupid shit to each other for hours. Basically, I think of Jug, Jinx, and their cat Mingus as a wholesome Team Rocket from Pokemon, and Jinx fully embraces that. That being said, she has a really TERRIBLE sense of humor. Like, bad jokes are her bread and butter. Like a “What do they call Pringles in Spanish. Prespañol~” bad.

Matt, on the other hand, is genuinely hilarious in that sort of goofballish way and Veronica is constantly laughing at the stuff he says or does. He once found her Monica Posh wig in her closet and put it on immediately, coming out and inventing a whole new alias for himself after she explained Monica Posh to him. When he’s actually telling jokes though instead of just being kind of an idiot, one of his favorites (that he never tells around Veronica because she is both Catholic and Lawyer-to-be in my universe) is as follows: A man and a woman meet in Heaven. They fall in love, and eventually decide that they want to get married. So they go to God and they say “God, we have fallen in love and we want to be married.” So God says to them, okay, let me see what I can do.” A few months later, he finds the couple and says, “okay, I can allow you to get married now.” So they marry. Then, a couple years down the line, they’re fighting a lot. They just can’t reconcile their differences, so they go back to God, and they say “God, we really can’t stand each other any more, and we want to get divorced.” God, displeased, says “It took me four months to find a priest in this joint. How long do you think it’ll take me to find a lawyer?” *insert buh dum tiss here* 50. How would you describe their style of clothing? How would they describe their style of clothing? 

Jinx describes her overall aesthetic as Trash Panda chic. A lot of ripped jeans, her doc martens, tank tops, lots of layered jewelry, fishnets and flannel, big Snooki bump. She loves a good vest. Lots of black, and with winged liner sharp enough to stab someone with. She claims the reason her eyebrow raising game is so strong is because it had to do the heavy lifting of an ill-conceived eyebrow ring in high school, which she does not have anymore. It’s a little punk, a little hipstery, but mostly she just looks like she rolled out of a laundry basket... which is usually how she goes about her day.

Matt goes for farmer’s market hot. Good jeans, not too ripped but definitely well worn. Henley. A flannel over top if it’s cool out. He loves a good sweater. In the summer, unless he’s working, it’s a tshirt and jeans. V-necks, usually. For lounging around the house, it’s 100% boxers and his bathrobe while he eats colorful sugary cereal out of a giant jethro sized bowl and watches Saturday college football (he roots for Georgia since he’s originally from Atlanta, and Veronica laments that she has a type: Bulldog football players who just want to be do-gooders).

92. Describe them as a John Mulaney gif. 

Jinx:

Matt: 

[tinylilemrys]

Here’s a collection of Merthur stuff I’ve created, all in one place and mostly for my own convenience.

Fanfiction:

Note to Idiot (Rating: T; Words: 9,762)

Arthur and Merlin are members of the Accidental Magic Reversal Squad who work different shifts and share the same office. Arthur, who works the day shift, can't stand the rain. Merlin, who works the night shift, can't concentrate without it. When they both get tired of changing the weather in the magical window in their underground office, is there a more British way to settle their differences than with a few passive-aggressive memos?

First Year (Rating G; Words: 7,346)

The summer Arthur turns eleven, with the memory of his father's reaction when his sister got her Hogwarts letter still fresh in his mind, he spends almost the entire holiday in dread that he'll get one too. However, when the inevitable happens, he gets far more than just a spot at a magic school – he gets a family. Well, that and an inconvenient acquaintanceship with a strange dark-haired kid, who Arthur definitely does NOT like. Not at all. (Prequel to Note To Idiot.)

Dandelion (Rating: T; Words: 3,772)

The routine has been the same for centuries: Arthur begins a new life in wherever they are in time, he and Merlin meet, Merlin’s memory spell lifts, Arthur’s memories eventually flood back, the idiot has a chuckle at his expense, hugs him senseless and then cries for a bit when it hits him that Arthur's really with him again. After that they pick up from where they left off until Arthur's life in that time ends and it all starts again in his next life. Except this time, when Merlin's memory spell proves too strong to be lifted simply by their meeting, Arthur is forced to win Merlin over the hard way: with small-talk and dandelions.

You Should See The Other Guy (Rating: T; Words: 1,457)

Arthur doesn't think it's unreasonable to be worried when his boyfriend keeps turning up beat-up and bruised (even if Merlin is still perfectly happy and doesn't seem that concerned about it). But when it gets the worst it's ever been, Merlin is forced to admit something to Arthur that changes everything.

Designated Driver (Rating: T; Words: 2,221)

Arthur has Nystagmus, is legally blind and can't drive. Gwaine is supposed to be the designated driver but after accepting drink after drink from the hot bartender who has a crush on him, he's far too drunk to walk let alone operate a car. To make matters worse, Arthur's left his wallet at home so he can't even call a cab. Thankfully, his luck changes when he gets approached by a hot stranger. 

The First Batch Always Flops (Rating: T; Words: 2,706)

Merlin is used to occasionally walking into the kitchen to meet the sad an embarrassed eyes of the last person to go through Gwaine's bed. What he's not used to is finding them irresistibly good-looking and suddenly having the strange urge to make them pancakes to make up for Gwaine's carelessness. Arthur seems to be a special case.

Mona Lisa’s Smile (Rating: T; Words: 1,777)

“Merlin is the only reason he hasn’t snapped yet. Arthur’s tired and exhausted and just so so sick of art, but seeing how Merlin’s face lights up when he sees one of his favourite pieces or how the tips of his adorable ears flush read as he excitedly babbles on about the brushwork and use of colour (even though he knows Arthur can’t tell if it’s good or bad one way or another) fills him with so much affection that he knows he’d happily spend the hundred or so days that he now knows it would take to see each and every piece. Arthur would do anything to keep that childlike mirth alive in his features. The small velvet box in his pocket suddenly feels a lot more heavy and insistent.”

Nos Galan Gaeaf (Rating: T; Words: 7,145)

Merlin knows from the heart-stopping moment that the fallen branch impales and rips his tent almost in half, that he hates, nay loathes camping and to his horror, it's the annoyingly posh rich bloke with the top-of-the-range camping gear who comes to his rescue. However, it soon becomes clear that there's a reason that the two of them ended up at the camping ground next to what is rumoured to be one of the most haunted and powerful forests in Britain on the last day of October, and it's far bigger than either of them could have ever imagined.

In My Cardboard Walls (Rating: T; Words: 114,980)

Folk-musician, Merlin Emrys, feels like he’s slowly but surely getting his foot in the door in the music industry. He has a decent following on social media, a gig almost every other night and people have (mostly) stopped pouring beer into his guitar case as a tip. But when an old friend of Gwen’s offers him a slot as the warm-up act for one of his favourite musicians on a live music show watched worldwide, Merlin finds his career fast-tracked.

Now, navigating fake relationships, tabloid gossip, the paparazzi, corporate scandals and a rather unfortunate crush on Arthur Pendragon, the handsome owner of Excalibur Records, Merlin is learning that big dreams come at a huge price.

Songs:

Brave

Goodbye

Warning Signs

In My Cardboard Walls: Songs From the Story (Playlist)