#go go little-me I suppose. whose backup plans were 'fuck off out of the country' (Edinburgh) and 'idk the air force maybe'
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https://www.bloomberg.com/graphics/2024-college-return-on-investment/
I'm sorry, I'm a complete asshole about this with absolutely no skin in the game (for at least ten more years), but it also drives me nuts. So please just. look at the graph
#I have adblockers and they seem to get past the paywall if there is one#the tl;dr is non-Ivy private colleges are a giant waste of money#obviously as someone who did attend an Ivy and now works for a flagship public university this man is saying exactly what I want to hear#please support your state's educational apparatus at all levels#and tell all the brilliant kids you know that the Ivies don't cost what they say they cost (apparently all are allegedly need-based now?)#but these schools that for real charge more than the (fake if necessary) sticker price of an Ivy and aren't an Ivy like WHY. WHO. HOW. STOP#(conservatories + their ilk I SUPPOSE excepted... idk their scholarship practices though. I hope they have them)#go go little-me I suppose. whose backup plans were 'fuck off out of the country' (Edinburgh) and 'idk the air force maybe'#I do love the liberal arts but man I was Not Compelled by colleges (in the not-a-university sense. university great. college very weird)
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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. Youâll 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:Â Jason Todd x gender neutral!reader
Word count: 6937
Warnings: swearing, uhhh idk itâs dc so you know what youâre intoÂ
-- 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.Â
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.Â
"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 couldnât 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.Â
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.
âGood morning, Agentâ
You only nodded, looking down to the table.Â
âMy name is Agent Baker,â He said. âMy colleague here is Agent Tanev. We will proceed to your debriefingâ
âSureâ You nodded again.
Agent Baker set a recording device on the desk and turned it on. âPlease tell us again why you are here todayâ
âI am--â You paused, clearing your throat. âI am here today to deliver crucial information on a wanted criminal in exchange for a pardonâÂ
âWhich wanted criminal should that be?â
âThe Red Hoodâ You said, meeting his eyes. âI have names of associates, safe houses locations, frequent territories of operation as well as his specific m.o.â
âHow come you know all of this?â He asked, his voice neutral. âNo 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 outâ
âI met the Red Hood during operation 7381 in northern Lithuaniaâ You began as Agent Tanev started to take notes. âI was in the back up team for the extraction of General Kradiev from a local opposant group. I wasnât supposed to even see action, as it should have been simple enough against an untrained mob, but when is it everâŚâ
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.
âDonât move or Iâll blow your head offâ 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 didnât 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. âYouâre going to back up and face the wall nowâ
âOr what?â He challenged. âYouâll âblow my head offâ?â
âShut up!â You barked, taking a step forward. Your firearm was ready to shoot. âDo as I fucking sayâ
âYouâre CIA uh?â He changed the subject, looking down at your marked bulletproof vest and not listening to you. In fact, he didnât seem worried at all by the situation he was in. âShould have known. You guys have never cared who lived or died. What fucking difference does it make, as long as theyâre good pals with the good olâ US of A right?â
âGod would you just fucking shut up and back upâ 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.
âSee, thatâs the thingâ He held a finger up. âYouâre pointing a gun at me like Iâm the bad guy, while you are trying to rescue the scum of humanity. Youâre going to extract him, give him a nice long life on Floridaâs golf courses with the taxpayers' money and wipe out from History the mass graves in the woods two miles awayâ
You remained silent.
âOh, did you not know about the mass graves?â He asked rhetorically in a mocking tone. âYour 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. Isnât that right, Kradiev?â
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.Â
âYouâre the only one who sawâ The man in red said, softer this time. âYou donât have to save that piece of trash. Just say your search came up empty and Iâll 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 placeâ
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 didnât have the cleanest record concerning human rights, but mass graves?Â
âBeta team, reportâ
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, thatâs why you went into the secret services. Being complicit in mass murder wasnât something you signed up on.Â
âNothing to report on the north roadâ
âClear in the valleyâ
âFarmerâs house emptyâ
âNo traffic on the south roadâ
You knew it was your turn now. Slowly, you reached for your comm, not breaking eye contact.
âPinetree houseâs clearâ 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.Â
âYou made the right choiceâ
âI hope so, or Iâm deadâ You mumbled. âIâm going back now. Donât make me regret my decisionâ
âYou wonâtâ
âSo just to be clear,â Agent Baker frowned. âYou just⌠Believed him? And you let General Kradiev in his hands?â
âWhen I left, I went to check, and the graves were there. Kradiev was guiltyâ
âThat was not your decision to makeâ He pointed out.
âI knowâ You sighed. âThat 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 Iâm paying the price todayâ
âAlrightâ He mumbled, passing a hand on his face like he was already done with this debriefing. âWhen did you cross paths with him again?â
âWe were back in Americaâ You continued. âBy 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 companyâŚâ
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 wouldnât go out as a coward, that was certain. If you went down, youâd take as many of them as you could with you.Â
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.Â
You werenât the only shooter.Â
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.
âDo I even wanna know?â You asked.
âI owed you oneâ He shrugged. âYou okay?â
You looked down to your leg, your pants soaked in blood that was already cooling, then back up again. âPeachyâ You gave him a thumbs up. âYou were right about Kradiev. He was a fucking trash bagâ
âItâs often the caseâ He said as he rested his hands on his hips.Â
âYou here for Hiko?â
âYepâ He nodded, then snorted derisively. âAny tips?â
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 didnât 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 theyâll 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 Hoodâs appearance was well timed, to say the least.Â
âSneak past the squad through the eastâ You panted. âIf you can move on top of the containers without being seen or heard, youâll cut them off with about two minutes to spare. Make sure youâre gone with Hiko when they bust through the door, or neither of us will ever find him againâ
He paused, studying you. âThanksâŚâ He trailed off. âWhy are you telling me this again?â
âWell, you said it yourselfâ You managed to smirk. âIf I can go to sleep knowing I made the world a better placeâ
He didnât 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. âAlpha 003 to central, Iâm down and need medical attention, Northwest entry of the docksâ
âSo if I understand correctly, not only you let him go again,â Baker exhaled, looking bewildered. âBut you told him how to get there first? You realize those are becoming serious crimes right?â
âI wouldnât be here if I didnâtâ You snapped, before recomposing yourself. Both agents had backed away just a little at your outburst. You sighed, running a hand through your hair. âSorry. Iâm just tired, itâs been a crazy last two daysâÂ
âDid he offer you any medical help then?â Baker returned on topic.Â
âNo, I called the medics and I was extracted with the chopperâ You replied. âI 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 Iâd see him. I mean, what are the chances, right? But you see, that here was my second mistakeâ
âHow so?â
âThe CIA goes after threats to national security, but so does he, in his own wayâ You said, locking eyes with Baker. âThe guyâs everywhere, even where we donât go. And heâs at least three steps ahead of us at any turn. He has good funds, good intel and exceptional skills. You donât find him, he finds you. And thatâs what he didâ
âHe contacted you after the affair on the docks?â He raised an eyebrow.
âWe could say that...â
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.Â
You scoffed and lowered your gun, clicking the safe back on and putting the firearm on the lamp table. âBreaking and entering, really?â
âWouldnât be the worst crime Iâve committedâ He shrugged, and you could just imagine him rolling his eyes, whoever he was under that helmet.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â You asked, crossing your arms against your chest. âHow did you find me?â
âLike I find anyoneâ 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. âAnd Iâm here because I wanted to check on your legâ
âNo youâre notâ 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 didnât mean anything to him. âBut Iâm doing fine, thanksâ
âYouâre welcomeâ He nodded. âAnd youâre right. I need something from youâ
âWell, go ahead, since youâre already inâ You gestured at him to go on.
âWait wait waitâ Baker held his hand up. âHe broke into your house and you just let him? You put your gun down and didnât call anyone?â
âYeah, thatâs what I just saidâ You replied slowly.Â
âAnd it never occured to you that he was dangerous?â
You paused, thinking your answer over. âNo, it didnât. I mean, if he wanted to get rid of me, he would have done it on the docks where I was an easy targetâ
âFair pointâ Tanev muttered under his breath, earning him a glare from Baker.Â
âNow do you want to know what happened or not?â You said, annoyed at the interruption.
âPlease, go aheadâ
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. âThis is Ian Markstrom, he has been suspected to kidnap young women, mostly tourists, to sell them on the sex trafficking marketâ He began. âNot 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 Iâm assuming someone in this government does not want Markstrom to stopâ
You nodded. âWhat can I do for you?â
âThereâs a secret auction strictly reserved for the elite, Markstrom will sell his best teenagers thereâ He explained, a hint of disgust in his voice. âThe CIA chief of operation received an invitation. I want to know what it says on the cardâ
âIâm not sure Iâm good enough to reach anywhere near itâ You mumbled. âBut sure, Iâll tryâ
âNo, I believe in youâ He said, and he seemed pretty sure of himself. You raised an eyebrow to hide your surprise at his compliment. âWhat Iâm wondering though, is why youâre not asking questionsâ
âWell, you are two in two so far about targeting the bad guyâ You said after a moment. âYou seem qualified to spot âem, and youâd be real twisted to to make up that scenario for a petty revenge, so Iâm guessing youâre on the mark againâ
âHuh. You might just be the only smart CIA agent Iâve ever metâ
You snorted. âWell, the more it goes the more Iâm questioning the integrity of my employerâ
âYou keep impressing meâÂ
âWith what I saw, I believe the bar was pretty low to start withâ
âKeep talking like this and I might need a cold showerâ
âYouâre an ass, you know that?âÂ
He let out a short bark of laughter. âIf only you knewâ
âIâll do my best for the invitationâ You brought him back on topic, closing the file and putting it beside your handgun. âHow can I contact you if I get it?â
He paused, then took a step forward and grabbed your wrist. He fetched a pen from his jacket and wrote a number. âThis is a burner phone, which I will destroy after this whole deal. Donât try and trace me with that, it wonât end well for youâ
âYeah yeahâ You rolled your eyes, pulling back your arm when he was done. You cleared your throat, trying to ignore his overwhelming proximity. âI gave you two fast passes just to trick you into seeking my help to finally bag you, Iâm bustedâ
âHey, listenâ He backed up, holding his hand in surrender. âI make that threat to everyone. Itâs only a disclosure thing, I didnât doubt your motivationâ
âTo each their own I guessâ You shrugged. âAlright. If this is all, please get out of my apartmentâ
âOop, sureâ
Baker blinked slowly. âAnd did you? Communicate him the details?â
âYeahâ You nodded. âI managed to get into the chief of operationâs office, break into his safe, memorize the date, time and place of the auction and communicate it to Redâ
âRed?â He raised an eyebrow.
âShort for Red Hoodâ Tanev clarified, and judging by yet another glare from Baker, he wouldnât speak anytime soon. Â
âHe kept it on the quiet, but after that the chief of operation did seem a changed manâ You smirked, before dropping it instantly. âAnd I didnât 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 downâ
âJesus Christâ He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. âWhy do I have the feeling it wasnât the last law you broke?â
âBecause it wasnâtâ
âAre you going to make a habit out of dropping out of nowhere to ask me for favors?â
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.
âYour car is very comfortable,â He declared. âYou have good tasteâ
âSo that means yesâ
âBack at it again with your superior deduction skillsâÂ
âWhat do you want?â You went straight to the point, but you were just a little amused. You could have a worst stalker.Â
âIâve been thinking this through,â He began, moved his legs so he was properly seated on the backseat. âYou are skilled and youâve got balls of steel. I could use your help more often. A partnership, if you mightâ
âWhy do I have the feeling it took a lot to admit that and reach out?âÂ
âBecause I donât just trust peopleâ He said plainly. âThey disappoint me, among other thingsâ
âSo why me?â
âLike I said, skills and balls of steelâ He repeated. âYou went against the fucking CIA not once, not twice but thrice to do the right thing. Thatâs enough of a test of will for me. And besides, your job would be an advantage that is hard to turn awayâ
âMakes senseâ 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. âWill this partnership imply me shooting bad guys?â
âIf thatâs what you wish forâ He shrugged, leaning forward in the space between the two front seats. âI wonât be the one to limit youâ
âOkay, yeahâ You nodded. âWhere do we start?â
Baker was looking into nothing, processing your words. He shook his head slowly in disbelief before he met your glance. âI shouldnât be surprisedâ He spoke after a moment. âBut this is Everest high levels of stupidâ
âAt that time it did seem like a good ideaâÂ
âYeah, might as well jump off of a bridgeâŚâ He trailed off, eying you suspiciously. âDid you do that too?â
âWell, if we consider the time when--â
âYou know what, donât tell meâ He cut you off. âPlease go onâ
âAlrightâ You held your hands up in surrender. âSo, where was I?â
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.Â
âHey, you okay?â He waved a hand in your face, making you snap out your daze. You blinked a few times, shaking it off.
âYeahâ You replied. âI just wasnât expecting thisâ
âExpecting what?â
âI mean, the helmet did give disfiguration vibes⌠Obviously I was wrongâÂ
âSo you think Iâm hot then?â He snorted derisively.
âI doâÂ
His head did a whiplash. âHuh?â
âSorry, I didnât mean to make you uncomfortableâ You backed away. âSometimes my filter doesnât workâ
âNo itâs--â He tried to find his words, then sighed. âIâm just not used to that, I guessâ
âWhatâs the point of this?â Baker groaned, his head in his hands.Â
âItâs a turning point that brought me here todayâ You explained, turning your palm up briefly. âYou asked for details, Iâm giving you detailsâ
âI kinda wanna know what went down, to be honestâ Tanev added sheepishly.
âTanev, Iâm going to drive you through the mirror if you do not shut upâ
âJeez sorryâ He mumbled.
âAs I was sayingâ
That day was the moment things changed in your relationship. There was this tension that hadnât been there before, the little brushes of hands when you were side by side, the staring at the other while they werenât 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.Â
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 didnât matter why, as long as you were as close as humanly possible to him.Â
And it didnât 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--
âOkay I donât need to know this-- I do NOT need to know thisâ Baker yelled. If he could have flipped shit from the table, youâre sure he would have.Â
âYou told me to spare no details!â You argued. âThis is a detail. Iâm being as thorough as I canâ
âYou know what-- Forget itâ He brushed his hand in the air aggressively. âJust get to the part we have interest in, for Godâs sake please just skip to thatâ
âOkay, okayâ You muttered, rolled your eyes. âIt 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 handsâ
âOkayâ He sighed, half in relief. âTell me more about thatâ
âWell, he started to show his true colorsâ You admitted, pulling your hands under the table. âSometimes, 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. Itâs like I didnât even have control on my life anymoreâŚâ
âWhere do you wanna eat?â
You looked away from the car window, your feet comfortably up on the dash. You took a deep breath and shrugged. âDunno, where do you wanna eat?â
âDonât really careâ He shrugged too. âYou decideâ
âWhat about chipotle?â
âSureâ He nodded. âChipotle sounds goodâ
Tanev shook his head sympathetically. âHe wouldnât even let you choose a restaurant?â
âNeverâ You looked down, sadness weighing your voice.Â
âIâm so sorry you had to live through thatâ
âThank youâÂ
âAlright, moving onâ Baker broke the moment. âWhat happened next?â
âNext? Next came what comes every time in screwed up relationshipsâ You answered, returning your hands on the table and crossing your fingers. âWe burned like a meteorite as it tears through the atmosphere, falling to our demise to high velocity and taking everything in our wakeâ
âThat was poeticâ He pointed out sarcastically. âWhat the fuck does it mean?â
You raised an eyebrow. âWe got dangerous for real, Agent Bakerâ You paused to take a reserved sip of the water. âIf you thought I was reckless before, youâll 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 didnât 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 loveâ
âNo. This is not up for discussionâ
You stared at him in disbelief. âYou said you would let me choose--â
âI said I would let you choose, not let yourself get killedâ He interrupted, slightly raising his voice. âThis plan of yours is stupid dangerous. If it backfires, you are almost guaranteed of not making it out free, or alive for that matter. Iâm not allowing you to take that risk. Not for me.â
âAgain, âifâ being the keywordâ You insisted, following him as he stomped out of the storage room. âI am capable of executing it flawlessly. I know I am, youâve always told me I amâ
He halted his steps, hesitantly turning to face you. His eyes softened as he sighed, taking your hand. âI know you can, itâs not about thatâ His voice was back down, even lower than his usual volume. âI canât lose you. I wonât lose you for something I dragged you into in the first place, I would never forgive myselfâ
You closed your eyes and rested your forehead on his. âOkayâ You finally said, nodding lightly. âWeâll find another way. Another plan. But weâre hitting that ball out of the park either way, I wonât let Preston get away with itâ
He smiled. âOh no, we won't indeedâ He kissed the top of your head. âWeâll get him one way or another, I promiseâ
âI almost feel sorry for you now, Agentâ Baker gulped. âI cannot begin to imagine what terrible things the Red Hood forced you to do under his manipulation. We however must continue this debriefingâ
âOf courseâ You nodded quickly, breathing deeply. âSo we planned our next move, but he wouldnât tell me the final target. I found it weird, he always told me the targets. I donât know, maybe he sensed I was trying to find a way outâ
âAnd that plan wasâŚâ
âYesâ You didnât have to let him finish his trailing thoughts, you knew what he was getting at. âSo this brings us to 36 hours agoâ
âBe as thorough as you canâÂ
âSo the Red Hood gave me those instructions to followâ You began. âI 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 wonât hide, but outrunning police and secret services? That was impossible. I still donât 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 caughtâ
âWas he not afraid youâd talk to us?â Baker asked. âThat was a pretty big gambleâ
âHe thought I wouldnât talk I guess, probably for the same reasons I stayed with him for all this timeâ You said, biting the inside of your cheek until it bled. You hated to think about these words. âBecause I believed I loved himâ
âI guess that wouldnât be too far fetchedâ He hummed. âWouldnât be the first time we saw it happenâ
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.Â
âWe are going to get you back to the holding cell while we process this informationâ He said. âBut once we do that, youâll be free, and with a new identity if you wish, as your agreement statesâ
âThank youâÂ
âJust one more thing before we wrap this debriefingâ He leaned forward. âYou must know his name"
âOf courseâÂ
âThen what is it?â He asked. âWhat is the Red Hoodâs name?â
You looked down, taking a deep breath, then back again, locking eyes with Baker. Then, you spoke.Â
-- 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 couldnât 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.Â
You took off your helmet and smiled at Jasonâs stern expression, whose eyes showed relief anyway. You turned off your bike and parked it, then got off and walked to him.Â
âWhat the hell were you thinking?âÂ
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.Â
âA simple âthank youâ would sufficeâ You smirked, bumping your shoulder to his. âI did save your sweet ass, after allâ
âI thought we agreed not to do thatâ 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.Â
âWe didâ You nodded, chuckling. âBut circumstances changed. You werenât 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. â
âStillâ He tilted his head to the side, before his head snapped in your direction. âWait, did you call the secret services after yourself?â
You shrugged half heartedly. âMayhapsâ Your lips curved upward, while he shook his head. âI 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 thisâ
âSo you gave yourself upâ
"Played the victim, pretended I wanted to exchange information on you for my freedomâ You sighed, taking a drag of your cigarette. âNone of which was relevant enough for them to even get close to you, worry notâ
âThey must have asked for a nameâ He hummed, now turning his full body toward you. âWhat did you tell them?â
âMy grandpaâs nameâ You snorted. âHe 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 campersâ
âThen how did you get out?â He squinted his eyes.
âOh, do not underestimate me, sweetheartâ You grinned. âIâve spent my whole career getting to know the buildings and the procedures for people like me. It was a piece of cakeâ
You were escorted out the interrogation room and into the small, yet cozy holding cell. You were on the clock, because the lies youâve slipped into your story would unravel pretty quickly once they discovered that the name you gave them was a farce. Then, you wouldnât be put in a minimal security room, but probably somewhere way less fun.Â
âHey waitâ You called after the guard before he could close the cell door behind you. He paused his actions, waiting for you to speak up. âThis wasnât there last timeâ
He frowned and took a few steps into the cell, trying to spot over your shoulder whatever you were talking about. When he didnât see it, he got closer and closer until he was all the way into the cell. âWhat wasnât there before?â He asked, annoyed.Â
You smiled. âYouâÂ
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 hadnât 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.Â
âSir, we are reporting engine noises in the garagesâ
âFuckâ 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. âAll units report to the garage, weâre having a break out. I repeat, all units to the garagesâ
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 werenât 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.
âMotherfuckerâ He spat. âEverybody out!âÂ
Seconds later, it exploded.
âYouâre unbelievableâ Jason scoffed, shaking his head. However, he now had a full blown grin to match yours. âI gotta give it to you though, blowing up your bike as a distraction was smart. Balls of fucking steelâ
âOf course it was!â You replied, then reached in your pocket for your phone. âAnd itâs not even the best part, lookâ
You unlocked your phone and passed it to him, showing him your most recent picture of the CIAâs chief of operation dead with a letter opener through his neck. His eyes widened. âYou got Preston?â
You turned around from your position, now leaning back on the ramp with your elbows resting on it. âThe bike opened a window big enough for me to get the targetâ You said, finishing your cigarette and disposing of it in the ash bin on your right. âAnd with all those idiots guarding an empty garage, tâwas easy enoughâ
âAfter all this time, youâre still impressing meâ He nodded, holding up his fist. âGood fucking jobâ
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.
âSo now what?â You hummed, looking up to the bright stars above your head. âMarkstromâs ring is no more, and Iâm pretty sure I not only lost my job by pulling that stunt, but also bought myself a ticket on at least three intelligence servicesâ most wanted listâ
âWell, thatâs nothing a good olâ fake death canât fixâ He shrugged. âBut until we find the right moment for your tragic public demise, Iâm sure we can manage to find on our own some domestic assholes to beat up. What do you say?â
You met eyes with him, then raised your eyebrows. âI say letâs get to itâ
#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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SnK 132 Thoughts
This month, more people scream and die.
Exactly as keikaku.
Unlike certain keikakus, however, this keikaku is still missing the essential element of a keikaku in that there is no actual keikaku thereâs just a lot of people running around screaming while they try not to die and then the screaming only stops when they die.
People also die when they are killed.
...Maybe.
Before we approach the obvious, the most interesting part of this chapter to me is that once again, Eren is presented with the option of stopping. While heâs in the planning stages of his assault, it is explained quite plainly that strategic strikes will completely undo any countryâs attack on Paradis.
Hizuru favors a limited test run of the rumbling. Yelena provides a tactic that uses only a bit of the outer wall. She explains the reasoning. She isnât wrong.
Weâve already had plentiful examples of what the Wall Titans can do. They can swim. Theyâre easy to spot from the distance, but there is no ammunition or strategy that can deal with them. Running is the best option, and even that is a risk.
Systematically destroying every single port would have bought Paradis all the time in the world. Yelena has this discussion with Eren back when she is wanting Eldians to die out, so they have different view of what counts as a win, but if Eren had wanted to, he could have easily wielded his massive power to keep every nationâs military from fucking with them.
He doesnât do that. Instead of a small portion of the walls, he wakes up the entire part. Instead of targeted strikes, he goes for armageddon.
Eren has options. Hange can say that Eren has no solutions, hope, or future, but the lack of hope is all that comes close to the truth. There is a solution right here. Fight anyone who would oppose you, and win. Make it clear that the assaults only happen because they made the mistake of declaring war on Paradis.
Eldians might be treated like crap everywhere, but Erenâs murdered plenty of Eldians with this plan. If his only care is the island, he could have worked to protect it.
Instead, even in the most generous of reads, he's deconstructed Paradisâ government in a time of incredible strife, sowing the seeds for an ugly civil war that has already had its beginning skirmishes.
Erenâs actions are destructive in every single category. When he first activates the walls, Armin still has that flash of hope that Eren is only using the amount of force he needs to put an end to this assault.
He doesnât. He wakes up every single titan, sends them marching, killing people on this island heâs supposed to care for so much, and now his closest friends are stuck in a world where to prevent genocide, they are probably condemning their own people to an even worse future than they already had.
The thing about this level of power is that you can do what you want. No one can stop you. If this starts with people forcing Historia into a breeding farm, Eren can just murder anyone whoâs in favor of that.
(Sidebar: I still am annoyed that no one came up with the obvious solution for that problem. If they need someone with royal blood to still be around in fifty years, just turn Historia into a mindless titan and ditch her underground with specific instructions each new Founder can follow. Titans are functionally immortal when left alone. Theyâre much less fragile than humans. Any dedicated person could easily kill off all the royal heirs, so might as well simplify the process, keep one royal heir around and relatively invulnerable. Then each Founder has easy access to their power if they just go to the right place. Obviously there are risks, but honestly itâs more straightforward than having a bunch of free-minded little kids be your backup plan.)
Eren can destroy an entire country before even the most knowledgeable titan experts can work out a reliable plan.
Paradis was never in danger. They had this. The rest of the world had a hundred years to forget, but a handful of public demonstrations illustrates the point very, very clearly. Yelenaâs strategy was meant to serve Zekeâs plan, but if what Eren wants is Paradis to thrive, it works. He doesnât have much time left, but he doesnât need it to destroy other countriesâ options of attacking Paradis.
Hizuru is interested in allying with Paradis because of this power. Theyâre the first. They would not be the last.
At the very least, this would give Paradis more time, which theyâve all seen the need for.
Instead, Eren chooses to destroy everything that might even consider being a threat to Paradis. There is no diplomacy. There is no measured use of force. There is no plan. There is the monsters heâs always hated, and falling so far into the darkness that the freedom he claims to want is destroyed by his own hands.
There were countless threads Eren could have followed, being a demigod. He very honestly could have done whatever he wanted.
So he did.
I feel like weâre still missing why. By the time his head has gotten blasted off, heâs encouraging his dad to murder the Reiss family, and heâs hallucinating himself as a child, I think itâs more than fair to say this war has won against Eren. Heâs broken, and this is the path heâs on.
Maybe itâs as simple as thinking in such stark black and white terms that he needs a future with a guarantee, and death is the strongest guarantee he can come up with.
Except going back to just last chapter, this is not what Eren wants. It is not something he is approaching with the passionate conviction of being in the right. Heâs in tears over it. Heâs horrified by the future he causes, but chained to it because he knows he causes it.
Itâs a difficult problem to explain. From a plot perspective, Iâm frustrated because there are so many ways this didnât have to happen. Iâve said before that tragedy should feel inevitable, and with each reveal of what Eren got up to in the shadows, this tragedy feels entirely avoidable.
However, from a character perspective, it does make sense that once Erenâs course of action has been decided, he doesnât see the other options. The inevitability is a trick of his mind, but itâs a trick that heâs bought into completely, so the tragedy is found in how truly unnecessary this all is. The tragedy is that the most powerful person on the planet is a slave to his own mind.
Hereâs where that stops working for me:
We see that character arc play out better elsewhere.
Thatâs Flochâs role.
Floch is an unlikable, divisive zealot who will happily kill civilians and throw children out of airships. He joins the Survey Corps when itâs the hip and happening thing to do, and has none of the conviction to back up their ideals.
He is the sole survivor of a suicide charge. Everyone around him dies in the space of a few minutes, and heâs left alone to make sense of it.
The only sense he finds is that this has to be necessary.
This is how they win.
The world is chaotic and vicious, and the only way to answer that evil is with evil. This world that hates them is not allowed to wipe them out, and anyone who tries will feel their wrath.
Floch doesnât bother with mercy or kindness. He doesnât mind that the rest of the world has to die for them to live.
This is how his world operates. Kill or be killed. Those are clearly the rules. Those have been the rules for a hundred years, more clear than ever when they step outside and are eaten on contact.
If the rest of the world lives, Paradis dies.
Paradis is home.
For as long as itâs existed, itâs been hated. Never mind that the current people living there are also victims of the Eldian Empire. Theyâve lived in a bubble, and forces keep showing up to pop that bubble, leaving nothing but bodies in their wake.
It is cruel and appalling.
But Paradis is still alive.
Because Erwin murders all these new recruits, Paradis lives.
Floch is the only one left alive to know that so intimately.
It is not a kind assessment.
It is one he redefines his life by.
Answer devils with devils. Their enemy is the entire world. There can be no rest. There can be no sympathy. As long as the outside world exists, Paradis will be a target for its hatred, and that hatred will eventually succeed in killing them.
Floch believes this. Genocide is not something he has a problem with. Heâs been living in a world where itâs Us or Them, and has repeatedly made it clear that he will choose Us.
Floch is a teenage boy who survives brutality heâs not prepared for, and reconstructs his entire worldview around the tactic that tries to kill him. Heâs a dick, and he does terrible things.
He believes in what he is doing.
He believes that if he doesnât stop the plane, Paradis will die. He believes that our little ragtag group of heroes are the final, greatest threat to his home. He believes that Erenâs evil is the only thing that will keep them all safe.
At the end of the day, his only hope is that the Devil is on their side.
Floch dies believing in that hope, and he dies to the people hellbent on destroying it.
Itâs tragic and sad, because he could never see anything better.
Our first real introduction to him is him on a rooftop, arguing that a boy whose eyes sparkle at thoughts of the ocean is not a good contribution to the war effort.
On that same rooftop, his devil argues that that is exactly why that boy needs to stay alive.
I understand that Erenâs somewhere that we canât really reach right now, but I donât feel like the story has shared the thread of how things got this bad. I can point to a dozen different factors that finally broke the camelâs back, but I wouldnât say any of those are the reasons canon is operating under. We know that Eren came completely undone when the memories of the future were unlocked, but as late in the game as Marley, heâs still devastated by what heâs about to do.
So why does he do it? Why this choice? Why this way?
I think I spent most of last monthâs post arguing that, so I wonât belabor it much more, but... I really feel like somethingâs being overlooked, and I donât understand it. Itâs hard to say if the story simply has a much different vibe than I expected, so my mind is rejecting all this, or if itâs intentionally weird. Iâd like to think itâs intentionally weird, because in my opinion thatâs a much better story, but either way, right now everything Erenâs doing feels like an incredibly pointless detour.
...Sure, that will end the world, but who cares about that, give me my character work.
How did hope become an impossibility for Eren?
To less painful things, I suppose.
No one suffers like Mikasa suffers.
I like Annie. She has always, very emphatically, wanted nothing to do with this. She has pride in her skills, but she spends years of her life undercover for a government that hates her, planning the deaths of people she respects. I like her opting out. This has never been her war, really, and sheâs finally among people who will respect that sheâs done with it.
It adds to the sweetness that Reiner is one of those people, now. As her self-appointed leader, he drives Annie into things she canât stand, clearly favors Bertolt, and is generally just a pain whoâs trying too hard in all the wrong areas.
Reiner gets that, and instead of bullying her into participating when she doesnât want to, he lets her go.
Annie finally gets to pick her battles without anyone negging her.
Itâs not a resolution I expected, but itâs one Iâm glad for. It follows the trend of our leftover cast being completely past done with violence.
Who knows if that will turn out well for them, but I like the story taking the gentler approach. The worldâs ending, so they might as well take the time to be kind to each other. Itâs the opposite path of what ultimately destroys Floch, and I love to see it.
The Survey Corps is represented by their yearning for knowledge. Understanding. For a hundred years, that yearning has been paired with war, and the dead bodies have piled up.
Now, the remaining bodies left who call themselves Scouts are kind of. done with that. Theyâve seen too many friends die. Theyâve built trains. Theyâve seen the ocean. Theyâve tried foods from other countries they didnât even know existed.
Surveying the outside world required weapons because otherwise youâd die, but thereâs a reason why Levi keeps on missing the promotion to Commander. Levi is a defender of humanity. When he dedicates his heart, he does it to protect people. Learning more about the world is a side effect.
To match the Survey Corpsâ ideals, violence is the side effect. Itâs not what theyâre meant to be about. Yet somehow theyâre all soldiers with huge body counts, guilty even of killing their countrymen.
Levi lets Erwin go on that roof because he rejects Flochâs desire to condemn one of them to being a devil for the rest.
That results in letting a boy who dreams of the ocean live.
Hange becomes the Commander and gets to see their world expand. New friends are made, new technologies discovered. New civilization. New, new, new.
Aaaaaaand itâs still all trying to kill them.
Hange begins as a recruit who hates titans. What saves Hange from that hate is curiosity. At the end, that curiosity and awe is still alive. Even heading into death, we return to that beginning spark of salvation.
âTitans really are... incredible.â
No one else in the world looks at these monsters and sees something amazing. Hange is enamored with them. The world is burning, these things are responsible, yet still. There is wonder to be had in looking at them. They are an incredible, impossible creation, and Hange gets to see them up close.
A world like that has to be called incredible.
Thatâs why Armin gets to be Commander. Jeanâs there to help. Mikasaâs there to help. Connieâs there to help.
But the Survey Corps exists to go out into the world and understand it. If something is hidden under a rock, you lift the rock. If you donât know why someoneâs doing something, you talk to them.
The world is fucking beautiful.
If the person in charge doesnât remember that, theyâre all doomed.
(This is why Levi is not allowed to be in charge.)
Itâs a good sendoff for Hange. Time spent with Levi, getting to be a chaotically cool genius who saves everyone... yeah. Itâs a good finish.
But this better not be fucking going where I think itâs going.
Let me politely frame my issues with dream sequences and time travel in fiction. I feel that I have done it before, but let us revisit, briefly.
Thereâs this show called Supernatural.
A thing that happens enough time to warrant its use as an example is that characters see or go into the future, and find that everything is fucked beyond belief. It is all bad, everything is wrong, see how you must avoid this so it never gets this bad.
The frustrating part is that hey, these characters in the future should have the same degree of agency as this guest from the past. Except they donât. Because the past character is the main character. Future crew is just an extended what-if, and soon the entire plot will be devoted to making sure this what-if never happens. They are not real main characters, so they donât get to do cool stuff. Theyâre forever doomed to failure.
The ghosts of the Survey Corps watching the progress of their living comrades isnât a new concept. Every veteran has been haunted by them. Seeing them at the end of the story, doing exactly what weâve been told theyâre doing... fine, okay.
I just am starting to feel like the storyâs quaking for a reset button.
Everything is bad. The world is fucked up beyond repair. There is no plan to deal with it, except to try to keep the global genocide from living its dream. In a world where they succeed in that, Eldians will be more hated and feared than ever before, Paradis being wiped off the map will probably be an international priority, there will be no Founding Titan to protect them, and thereâs no path to recovery.
Then weâve got a shot of ghosts all looking over the current happenings.
We know from Paths magic that all of Ymirâs people are connected. This doesnât use that imagery; itâs based much more simply in the oath all these soldiers swore. But the point is, we see dead people. At a point in the story where many, many dead people are being produced.
I donât mind a character being welcomed to an afterlife. A lot of stories go there.
But I am a suspicious, terrible person, and getting a glimpse at sentient dead people at this time makes me wonder if weâre allowed the privilege because theyâre going to be newly present in the story.
And I am fine if we go the way of a Madoka ending. Itâs better than a Lelouch option, and I like Madoka.
The only thing is, if we are going to hit a reset button, I become very, very cross at some of the choices made. Because sure, the characters might have still made those decisions, but the author knows that things are free to go as badly as whimsy will take them, because it wonât last. And with how my primary objection to the current plot is that it feels unnecessary, and like the choice to go here was made without enough reason to back it up...
It hasnât happened yet, thereâs nothing more than a suspicion that it might happen, but there are some specific kernels of âthis needs more canon explanationâ that I think the story should have, and if weâre stepping into the afterlife, magic solutions donât seem far off, and if we get a magical solution without first establishing the non-magical ways we first ended up here, I will have a problem.
But hopefully none of that will even be an issue, and Iâll look back and feel silly for bringing it up.
...Itâs just that our main character is not only threatening, but committing global genocide, and as of right now, the win condition is a moral win where everyone lives to oppress Eldians another day.
-tosses charred confetti-
And I feel like that is an incredibly pointless and boring story, so maybe it is not the story weâre being told, so.
So.
To next month.
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Inktober Day 13: Guarded Demon
Title: Soul of a Siren
< Day 12 | Inktber18 | Day 14 >
Jin x Hispanic!Reader
Summary: The boys have a photoshoot by the beach and are allowed to freeroam after theyâre done. Jin enjoys some time by himself, but soon finds out heâs not alone after all.
The blonde man had gone for a walk early this morning and stopped at the sea. It was as if a voice had called him here. Looking around, he saw ocean blessed hair adorned with a crown of seashells and pearls. She was absolutely beautiful and magical, so much so that Jin had to wipe his eyes to make sure he was really seeing scales. Purple and green scales that made a fishtail where human legs would supposedly be.
âCome to me. Darling come to me. My love come to me. Come to me. Come to me.â She sang and stopped when she saw the human. âHello there. Did you hear my song, little human?â
He nodded. âHi?â Jin pointed to her tail. âIs that real?â She laughed, âOf course itâs real, silly. Iâm a mermaid.â
âDonât you have to hide it to humans or whatever? I thought--â âHuman movies are based off false history. We can show ourselves to whoever we want. We get to be on land as long as we want if itâs under 24 hours or we die, though. That is unless we fall in love with a human and a human falls in love with us. It doesnât have to be romantic love either.â
âOh wow. I never knew that.â
She smiled, âThey never do. Youâre very handsome by the way.â Jin blushed, âThank you. I know. My name is Jin by the way. Itâs nice to meet you.â âCall me Gia. Do you have time to see my kingdom? I want to show Papa my new song mate.â Jin furrowed his brows, âSong mate?â âWeâre connected musically. No one but my song mate can hear my song.â Her eyes reflected the falling moon. âFate?â âYes. Come with me.â She held out her hand. Without hesitation, she grabbed Jinâs hand and made him jump into the water with her. His first instinct said he was going to drown since it had all been so sudden and unexpected, but instead his eyes met hers. He was fine. He could breathe. âDonât let go.â She said.
The two swam to the depths of the sea. After getting through a particularly seedy sand bar, they were there. It was a beautiful underwater kingdom. Everyoneâs scales were shining and the greeted the princess with a lowering of their eyes and kind smile. Gia took Jin to a special room and there were bracelets hanging on a candelabra. They were made out of seashells and bound by brown kelp.
âPut this on. Youâll be able to breathe and understand our language.â
He put on the Bracelet of Breath and made a joke about the item, calling it a Breath-let and laughing to himself about it. The Princess Gia laughed too and then told him to follow her to meet her father. He had just finished handling some business with some local children and a couple whose business got attacked during a feeding frenzy. He didnât seem in the best mood and so Jin suggested that they do it later. Gia wasnât listening, so she tugged him along.
âPapi, I have good news! This is Jin, heâs my song mate! I found him!â
The king was a very fit man, his abs had abs, his pecs had pecs, and there was a scar on his neck and on his eye, and he was a very scary man. However, when he smiled, it seemed like none of that mattered. He welcomed Jin as graciously as possible.
âOh, my darling child, I am so glad you were able to find your song mate before your vocal cords gave out.â He held her cheeks and then put a large arm over Jinâs shoulder. âYou, my measly land fleshling, are someone my daughter has looked hard and long for. She sang every day for years trying to find you...just like her sister.â
A sadness came over him and Gia rolled her eyes but swam to comfort her father. He thanked her and composed himself, turning his attention back on Jin.
âJust where the fuck have you been?â
It was odd hearing such a rough man say rough words with such a blinding smile. Jin explained that he was a idol, so he didnât have much time to go to Korean beaches because he was always so busy and in other countries while on tour.
He gave a hearty laugh, âWell, I am grateful you finally decided to show up! Give this man the best room! Weâll host a party for you tomorrow. Youâll find we donât have many rooms here, only one that youâll need to heed until further notice.â
âWhatâs that?â Jin asked.
The kingâs face became very dark and grim. An ominous red light seemed to surround him as he got face to face with Jin, âDonât you dare leave your damn room without a fucking escort.â He smiled and it was all cheery and bright again with his smile. âOk? Good.â
The Princess and several guards took Jin to his room on the third floor and made sure he had food to eat and a few backup bracelets in case anything were to happen. They didnât want him dying on accident.
Alas, Jin couldnât just follow the directions to stay in his room. And he didnât really want anyone following him since he wanted to explore the castle with no intrusions. So he searched the walls for a secret exit because all castles had that, right? He found one under the coral rug and it was a set of stairs. A voice fit for heavy metal was down there, or maybe a rock ballad if they just calmed down a bit. Being Jin, he was a bit nervous but more curious to see where this path led. Going down the sandy staircase, he decided swimming down would be easier.
Was it that song bringing him here? Maybe, but he still swam. Everything had been going swimmingly, so he decided to take a chance. Once settling on the floor, Jin felt as though he needed to take a left instead of a right and two rights after that. This led him to a girl with freckles and a beautiful face in a eerie glow. He felt safe there, though. It wasnât until then that he realized he had been so on edge. It was a new world to him after all, so he thought it was normal to feel such a way.
However, looking at this glow, this being that didnât even seem to know he was there, Kim Seokjin felt protected. Her long dark hair floated in the atmosphere. There were two sleeping guards on either side of entrapment.
âWho are you?â The girl asked, not looking.
âJin.â He continued to walk towards her and become part of the glow.
âNo, stop!â She said right before he reached the cage she was trapped in.
Jin stopped. He could see that she had tan skin that flowed seamlessly into a glittering lavender tail.
She turned around and looked at him, âIâm (Y/N). Youâre in danger. We both are, but I know how we can get out of here, song mate.â
He was confused, âI thought I was Giaâs song mate.â
âShe uses that excuse all the time. Her voice can call any human she wants. Youâre not safe here. Gia hasnât told you the real reason why youâre down here. She wants you to marry her.â
âShe what now? How do you know this?â
âSheâs my older sister, and she tries to get cute guys to marry her by saying they are her song mate, that itâs fate. If they say no, she drowns them or locks them up. They die down here, Jin. I try to get them to come to me by using my Heart Song. That usually doesnât work, so I just use the Come to Me song like Gia does. This is the first time my Heart Song has worked.â
He blinked, âSo youâre actually my Song Mate?â
The trapped girl nodded.
The confused idol was now scared, âOk, I believe you. I donât wanna get married to anyone but you. I have a life that I quite enjoy on the surface that youâre obviously supposed to be a part of. How come youâre down here in the first place?â
(Y/N) sighed, âMy magic is stronger than my sisterâs since Iâm a Siren and sheâs not, so Iâve been locked up here to make sure I canât do anything to stop her. Iâm pretty sure she faked my death in order to get the throne.â
âShe did, but Sirens are bad. Theyâre basically demons.â
She looked away, dark hair twisting and hovering around her head, âOnly if their hearts get consumed by darkness.â
âWell, I can already tell youâre not like that. Thereâs too much light coming from you.â Jin said, getting her to smile. âAlright, so how do we get you out? How do I stop her?â
âYou have to sing. I know itâs dumb, but you have to sing that melody on the wall to help me get out of here. I can take it from there. Once they see Iâm still alive, theyâll throw her in here instead and I can fix things.â
Jin scratched his head, âHow come no one else has been able to free you?â
âThey donât have the range.â She pouted. âIf you canât do this, at least try to get out on your own.â
The talented idol chuckled and sang the high notes carved into the wall. As soon as he did, they disappeared and the cage went away. (Y/N) was free.
âLetâs get that bitchy fishy, huh?â
Jin laughed, âNice.â
The two then entered the castleâs main room. They arrived during an argument between the King and Gia. She wanted the throne and was irate that she wasnât getting it yet. He said that the search for (Y/N) wasnât over yet, and so she wasnât getting the crown until her sisterâs death had been confirmed.
âYou can call off the search, Papi. I never died.â
He started to cry, â(Y/N), is that you? My darling baby girl! Gia said you died!â
âYour daughter has been trapped in a cage that Gia put her in.â Jin stated and folded his arms. He then gave an unforgiving glare to the traitor. Â âAlso, Iâm her Song Mate, not yours!â
âIs this true?â
The innocent Siren nodded, âIt is. That puta in a puka necklace trapped me!â
Within seconds, Gia was thrown into the Trench and a celebration was held to welcome the rightful princess back to the people. Jin was having a great time, but he pulled his Song Mate to the side in the middle of it all.
âI have to go back to the surface. Iâll come back when I can so we can plan a wedding--â
She giggled, the pearls in her hair glistening in the light.
âWhat?â
(Y/N) held his hands, âA Song Mate is something that is so much more than a betrothed. Not everyone can find theirs, so even if I never see you again itâs enough to know that youâre mine and that we have an irreplaceable connection. Also, I thought Land Males hated getting married.â
âIâve never felt so attached to someone in my life, (Y/N). If I donât marry you, then I wonât marry anyone.â
âThen the next time you come to the ocean, we shall get wed. Until then, you have a life on land to get back to.â
It wasnât long until Jin was flying to California for K-con. He had tried to go to the beach more often to see her again, but he never saw her. They were Song Mates, so they would find each other when the time was right. Still, he missed her so much. The day after the convention, the boys had 24 hours to do whatever they wanted. Most of them slept or played games. Jin got a slushie and went for a walk.
Thatâs when he heard it again. (Y/N). He ran to the closest ocean until she was right there waiting for him.
#BTS#Bangtan#Kim Seokjin#Jin#Jin x Reader#Reader x Jin#Seokjin x Reader#Reader x Seokjin#mermaid!AU#fic#fanfic#fan fic#fan fiction
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Bellarke version of the princess diaries 2 with one of them attempting to prevent the royal wedding (to third party), whilst falling in love with the prince/princess. Thank you, and you are truly incredible!
Clarke thought she knew exactly how stupid it would be to see Bellamy before her wedding. She knew all the reasons she shouldnât have seen the person she isnât marrying, the one sheâs actually in love with, the one whose sister has a claim to her throne if anything goes wrong with this wedding. She thought she had assessed all the risks and decided it was worth it anyway.
But she hadnât known all the risks. She hadnât thought heâd betray her.
âWe can spin this,â her mother is saying. âItâs not great, but itâs notââ
âItâs not royal behavior,â says Queen Katherine, her voice icy. No one can disapprove like a queen, especially a queen whoâs also your grandmother.
âI was talking to a friend,â Clarke protests. âThatâs not spin. Thatâs the truth. Just because it turned out I was wrong about our friendship doesnât meanââ
âDonât act like you went out there that night to be with your friend, Clarke,â says Abby. âYouâre getting married, andââ
âAnd thatâs bullshit!â She doesnât mean to say it, but itâs the truth too, as important a truth. âItâs bullshit that getting married is supposed to magically make me a ruler. If he died tomorrow, I could still be queen, as long as I was married once.â
âDonât say that,â says Indra, mild. âIt makes it sound like youâre planning to assassinate your own husband.â
âYou know what I mean. I can be just as good a ruler with or without a husband.â
âI specifically told you to stop seeing that boy,â says her grandmother. Given she and Abby arenât actually related, itâs amazing how similar they are. Clarke honestly canât believe that Katherine disapproved of the marriage.
But there were strict rules about what her fatherâs marriage could look like.
âI wanted to see him,â she snaps, reflexively, and itâs the wrong thing to say for a thousand reasons.
âWhich doesnât speak well to your judgement. A friend who betrays youââ
âFrom everything Iâve seen, he didnât betray her,â Indra interjects, and this time all three of them whirl on her. âI looked into it.â
âAnd youâre only telling me this now?â Clarke adds.
She shrugs. âI donât know how much it matters. After all, the main issue remains.â
âMain issue?â asks Clarke.
âThe footage is damning, regardless of anything else. Just because Bellamy wasnât aware of the deception, that doesnât mean itâs not a problem. But he does seem to have been innocent of all wrong-doing.â
âIf he wasnât doing anything wrong then what was he doing?â Katherine demands.
âSaying goodbye,â Clarke says, less to them than just in their presence. Itâs for her. But since theyâre there, she adds, âHe justâhe wanted to say goodbye. Thatâs what he told me.â
âYouâre getting married, not dying.â
She feels exhausted, suddenly. âI stopped my flirtation with him, like you told me I had to. That doesnât mean I stopped having feelings for him. You know as well as I do what my getting married will do to our friendship.â She exhales, getting her feelings under control. âBut it doesnât matter. Like Indra said, all that matters is how we deal with the fallout of the video. It doesnât affect anything else. Wells and I are getting married this afternoon. And Bellamy and I areânothing.â
Her grandmother watches her, a small frown on her face. âI am sorry,â she finally says. âI know this is notâthe life of a princess is not an easy one, and I did you no favors when I told you this was your future. It isnât all balls and true loveâs kiss, in real life.â
âNo,â she agrees. âBut I know my duty. Iâll do what has to be done.â
*
âSo,â says Wells. Itâs bad luck to see him before the wedding, but they have fallout to deal with. He deserves an explanation. âThat guy. Bellamy?â
âYeah, Bellamy.â
âWhy arenât you marrying him? I remember seeing you two dancing at the ball. He seems like a good prospect.â
âHeâs not royal. Not even noble. He was there with his sister. Whoâs apparently my heir, until I produce another one. So itâs this wholeââ She sighs. âHis family was working to dethrone me, because Iâm not a good ruler.â
âYou know thatâs bullshit, right?â he asks. âYouâre going to be a great queen, Clarke.â
âI hope so.â She bites the corner of her mouth. âBut I donât think I can marry you.â
âI was thinking that too.â
Her smile aches a little. âYou were?â
âI want to do whatâs best for my home, my country, my people. But I want to do whatâs best for myself too.â
âI get that. ButâI think this might be easy for me.â
âWhich part?â
âWhatâs best for all of those is the same thing, Iâm pretty sure.â
âYeah? And whatâs that?â
This time, her smile is sure. âI need a really good speech.â
*
As Wells said, Clarke did meet Bellamy first at a ball. He was hard to miss, handsome and charming, but more importantly just a little bit lost. A little like Clarke herself felt, honestly.
When she asked what he was doing there, he answered honestly: he was escorting his sister. In fact, he basically always told her the truth, or at least most of it. Heâd been honest about the fact that he thought monarchy was an outdated practice, that he thought the country would be better off with someone who understood the perspective of the common citizen. He and Clarke had bickered about it, her pointing out that she had lived most of her life as a common citizen and Bellamy shooting back that she hadnât been an Arcadian citizen.
Sheâd thought that if he was one of the choices for marriage, it wouldnât be so bad.
Now, though, she knows he isnât. Even if he didnât ask to see her the other night because he wanted to see her, heâs still not someone she can marry. Sheâs a princess, and she needs to marry a prince, not a man whose mother married into the nobility after he was born.
But if he isnât trying to keep her from being queen, she assumes that means he wants to help.
âClarke!â he says, when he picks up his phone. âFuck, Iâve been calling all morning, I wanted to apologize, Oâs uncle, heââ
âItâs okay,â she says. âI know it wasnât your idea. My head of security filled me in. Thatâs not why I called.â
Thereâs a pause. âUh, okay. Then why are you calling?â
âYouâre a speechwriter.â
âYeah.â
âIâm writing a speech to give about why Iâm not getting married today thatâs hopefully going to convince parliament to change the law about my not being able to be queen. Iâve got most of it done, but I could use another set of ears.â
Another pause. âSo, I donât need to come to your wedding and try to talk you out of it? Because these YouTube videos about how Iâm supposed to tie this tie arenât really helping much, so it would be good if you already changed your mind.â
âIâve never been the one who needs to be convinced this is a shitty idea,â she points out. Her smile is so big it almost hurts. âI always thought it was a bad law. Iâve been trying to change it, and this is my last chance. So I need to bring my A-game.â
âYou came to the right guy,â he says. âAfter we got O on the throne, the next step was taking out that law.â
Clarke smiles. âSo, your plan was to use a shitty law to dethrone me and then immediately get the law overturned so she wouldnât have to marry some random guy?â
âLike you said, itâs a shitty law. So tell me what youâve got and Iâll tell you if youâre missing anything.â
âThis isnât getting you out of coming the wedding, by the way.â
âNo?â he asks, sounding surprised.
âIâm hoping Iâm going to have something to celebrate after. And I want you to be there.â
âYou do?â
âI kind of like you,â she says, and thereâs another pause.
âOkay, well. Letâs get this thing done,â he says, voice thick. âAnd then Iâll figure out how bow ties work.â
âItâs not really going to be a wedding. You donât have to dress up.â
âI still want to look nice,â he says. âRead me your speech.â
*
Itâs not hard to come up with a whole list of reasons the Arcadian tradition is archaic and unfair, including its inherent misogyny and homophobia, and apparently her parliament likes her well enough that their response to an ultimatum about changing the job or losing her as the heir is changing the law.
So she doesnât get married, but theyâre still set up for a big party, and as far as Clarkeâs concerned, they have a lot to be grateful for.
Unfortunately, everyone else seems to feel the same, because they all want to talk to her, tell her how happy they are, how they always supported her, and it feels like hours before she disentangles herself from the politicians and finds enough space to breathe.
âTo your left, in the corner,â Indra says, low, and Clarke follows her gaze to spot Bellamy, looking slightly awkward in the corner with his sister. Heâs more dressed up than sheâs seen him since the first time he met, but this time he didnât slick his hair back or put in his contacts. His glasses are sliding down his nose and his hair is a riot of curls.
She told him she liked him better like this, and he listened.
âCan you watch but not stay that close?â she asks Indra. âThereâs security everywhere. I just want to pretend I have some privacy.â
âI do love pretending Iâm not here,â she says. âGood luck.â
Octavia notices her first, raises her flute of champagne in Clarkeâs direction with a wry smile. âCongratulations on getting the law changed. Honestly, Iâm relieved.â
âReally?â Clarke asks.
âI know Bell was convinced Iâd be a good queen, but I think I can do more good outside the monarchy. Plus, if they didnât change the law I would have had to marry some noble Iâd never met. That would have sucked.â
âGlad I could help. I did it for you, obviously.â
She smirks. âYeah, for me. Which reminds me, I have to go talk toââ She casts around, clearly trying to find someone whose name she can use. âLord Kane. Good to see you!â
âSubtle,â Clarke tells Bellamy, and he rubs the back of his neck, flushing slightly.
âI told her she needed to come so Iâd have backup.â
âYou need backup?â
âI wasnât sure.â He clears his throat. âNot that Iâm not glad youâre not married, but that means youâre going to be the queen. I assume youâll beâbusy.â
âI will be. But I could use someone I trusted to talk to. Give me feedback on my speeches. Consult about important issues.â
He looks her up and down, dubious. âYou want to hire me?â
âNo, thatâs notâif you want a job writing speeches for me, you can have it, but thatâs not really what I was thinking.â
âWhich was?â
Heâs smiling, so she can too. âIâm not really ready to get married yet, honestly. But I wouldnât mind dating. You, specifically.â
âI didnât think queens dated.â
âI think we can do what we want.â
âYeah, Iâm pretty sure thatâs not true. If the last few weeks of trying to derail your coronation taught me anything, itâs that you really canât. You technically couldnât marry me if you wanted to. Not that Iâm, uhââ
âI bet thatâs a law we could get changed if we wanted to. And itâs not like weâre in a hurry, right? We can figure it out later. When it comes up. But maybe we should start with dinner.â
He offers his hand. âHow about starting with a dance?â
She takes it, feeling his fingers close around hers, rough and warm. âIâd love to.â
*
A year later, he puts a draft of an amendment to the law about female members of the royal family having to marry titled nobles to retain their own status and property.
âItâs not homophobic, but it is misogynistic,â he says. âI think you should be able to get it changed.â
She smiles, scanning over the papers. âThanks. Any particular reason you want me to look into it?â
âI figure you might want to get married someday. You want to have your options open. In case thereâs a commoner whoâs planning to make you dinner and propose soon. Just for example.â
âSoon?â
âAs soon as the law changes, probably.â
âSo I should work on it now, is what youâre telling me.â
âJust if you want to get married soon. I know royal weddings can take a while, soââ
âSo letâs get the law changed and see if we can find a commoner to propose to me.â
He grins. âYeah. I donât think itâll be too hard.â
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