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gold-onthe-inside · 3 years

Note

Okay so this idea popped in my head while I was watching an episode of Criminal Minds..

What if a femxreader/creator made character comes up to Reid after he exits the narcotics anonymous meeting for cops and shares how she has a similar experience? Maybe they hold each other accountable or meet up for coffee at a diner to talk about it more in depth or even at someone’s home?👀

Ooh i like that idea. One of the biggest reasons why addiction is so hard is that shame they feel which prevents them from talking about it and having someone who understands how hard it is to keep going works wonders in the fight to stay sober. I would be honoured to write it.

cw: narcotics, drug abuse, injury, reference to rape

Winter, 2006

It had barely been a month since Spencer had started going to these meetings. He had lied low in the beginning, slowly mustering up the courage to talk about it. Even then, he had never found the courage to talk about Hankel. He’d left work early, his co-workers convinced that he had a date, and arrived perfectly on time as planned. He was content to leave his co-workers in their misconception. After all, Derek’s jibes were certainly easier to handle than the silent sympathy he’d received after the abduction.

The usual attendees were there, law enforcement officers of every kind filling up the seats with their cups of coffee. A woman who worked with bombs struggling to get off heroin. A young man near the back with an addiction to fentanyl. Nearly all of them had spoken up about their own issues, none more than the young woman greeting each attendee at the door.

Charlie Nash. He knew she was a detective with Metro PD, battling her own addiction with Oxy. She couldn’t have been much older than him, an expert in her field. Unlike the others who only shared snippets of their life, Charlie was a force of nature, using her own story to kickstart theirs. Like every other meeting, Charlie sat with them in the circle, a hand casually pressing down on her cane. She was the reason he’d managed to say a few words at all. Because she refused sympathy or pity from anyone, especially from the people in this group. Because unlike him, she had powered through the shame that bound him.

“So, a couple years ago, I was working with the victim of a rapist,” Charlie started, the same way she kicked off every meeting, with a story about her own pain. “The statute of limitations was up and the case was closed. I was supposed to debrief him and hand him off to a therapist. But he, uh, never showed up to the appointment. He calls me, asks me to come to this cafe, points out his attacker. I told him that my hands were tied, I couldn’t arrest her. So, he pulls out a bag of C4 and blows up the place. My leg got pinned in the fallout, doctors prescribed oxycodone and I-I couldn’t stop.” She stopped to take a breath and wipe a strand of dark, curly hair behind her ear. “And now, I am 2 years, 6 months and 3 weeks sober. My career is on track, I have a support network I can count on and I’m here to help you all.”

The same smatter of applause filled the room but Charlie dismissed it, taking a look around the room before her glittery brown eyes landed on Spencer, a soft smile curving her features. He shifted in his seat nervously, his fingers absently tapping on his thigh as Charlie observed him. “Spencer, would you be our first volunteer?” It was a perfectly innocent question and he could always say no. She had made that abundantly clear in the first few meetings. He felt his throat dry up, the room feeling much hotter as the circle pinned him with their gazes.

"Um, okay. I uh, I had a-a rough time staying-staying clean after um—" Spencer swallowed thickly, feeling Charlie's gaze on him. He exhaled slowly, his heart pounding in his ears. If Charlie could come in here every week and talk about her injury and addiction, then he could talk about Hankel. "Two months ago, I was kidnapped by a man with uh, DID, a dissociative identity disorder, and uh, one of his personalities, he-uh-he gave me Dilaudid. To-To help with the pain.” Spencer’s focus slid down to his hands, long wiry fingers picking at his fingernails. “I wanted to hate him,” he admitted quietly, “I keep thinking whether it would have been better if he was just… evil.”

Spencer wet his bottom lip, taking a second to glance at Charlie, her hands layered on top of her cane before focusing back on the floor. “I uh, I can’t leave the house without the vials. Ever. And the times I try to, they’re just-just constantly on my mind. And um, and I can’t focus on my job.” His lips quirked into a self-deprecating half-smile. “The-the victims, I just… I used to be able to compartmentalise it, you know, and it was-it was easier when I-I didn’t know how it felt. Now that I do, I just…can’t seem to focus anymore.” His voice quietened, his body feeling hollow and exhausted.

“Narcotics make it feel like the pain goes away,” Charlie said quietly, using his story as a teaching point. “But it doesn’t heal our wounds, physical or emotional. And just like a physical wound, we have to help our emotional wounds heal in the long term. Ignoring that wound means it festers and only gets worse. And I know it’s hard. Emotional healing is much harder than physical healing. But the more we talk about it and reflect on it, it will get better.”

The rest of the meeting took its usual 45 minutes with attendees telling their stories and Charlie chiming in with a reflective message for each of them until she announced the end of the session. As his habit, Spencer left the hall immediately instead of mingling like the others did. It was easier to talk about his addiction when he didn’t really know any of them. “Spencer, wait up!” He turned to see Charlie following him outside, her cane making a small tapping sound as she made her way over to the curb where he stood.

Shivering slightly as a breeze ruffled his hair, Spencer pulled his coat around him as Charlie caught her breath, shaking out her bad leg. The bright amber streetlights illuminated her golden, honeyed skin but obscured the freckles dotting her cheeks. Like him, she was bundled in layers, a thick hoodie under a dark leather jacket, a gold necklace with a circular pendant neatly nestled just above the zip of her jacket.

“You said you still have those vials.” Spencer dipped his head shamefully, a hand rubbing the back of his neck at Charlie’s bluntness. “Look, before I got sober, I had a prescription for Oxy. So, whenever the cravings became too much, I’d go to my doctor and tell him that my leg was hurting again. He’d give me a prescription and I’d get the drugs. My sponsor convinced me to tear up the prescription and switch doctors. You need to cut yourself off, even if you haven’t taken any from the vials yet.”

Spencer met Charlie’s discerning gaze, her hardened eyes betraying tenderness. Hesitantly, he reached into his satchel and pulled out two clear vials of Dilaudid. He rolled them in his fingers, the beginnings of a craving starting to sneak up on him and before he could refuse and pocket the vials, Spencer handed it over. But Charlie only raised an eyebrow at him cynically. "You do know, I'm a former addict too, right?"

Spencer blushed, the cold making the tinge of his cheeks more prominent and Charlie laughed softly to herself. "I'm saying, you don't have to do it now if you're not ready. But when you are, flush that thing."

"I uh, I will," Spencer promised her, his voice wavering a little. That one he couldn't blame on the cold. Charlie nodded curtly, stepping away from him and the curb to get into her car. Spencer tapped his foot for a moment, gathering all his courage before surging forward to Charlie's car. "Uh, Charlie!" Too loud. Her gaze was peppered with light humour, leaning forward on her cane to listen intently. "Um, I-I still haven't quite found a-a uh, a sponsor yet and I was, uh, wondering if maybe-maybe you'd like to uh--"

"Spencer, you aren't asking me to prom," Charlie reminded him, a wry smile curving her lips. He let out a breathy laugh.

"Yeah, sorry." He took in a deep breath before tackling the question again. "Wouldyoubemysponsor?" Way too fast.

But she just smiled tenderly at him. "Sure. You have my number."

#sorry this took ages #tw drugs #tw narcotics #hope you like it #spencer reid x oc #oc insert #it's just been sitting in my drafts looking at me

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personuhh · 4 years

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I want your input on how you guys think the P4 cast’s futures would shake out! I have a general idea of where I want things to go, but I think having input from everyone is important too. Any characters that I’ve left off (Kanji, the Dojimas, Yukiko, etc) already have pretty solid arcs planned, so don’t worry, I didn’t forget them.

There are a bunch of numbered questions to make it easier to respond to, I’d be happy even if you guys took the time just answering one or two! Thanks for your interest, and hopefully you guys find this an interesting read at the very least lol.

(I’ve grouped all of the questions at the end in case you want to see them all together.)

General Info:

The game is planned to take place in 2015, so everything will take place 3 years after Arena/P4DAN/Golden Epilogue.

Because it’s centered around Inaba, it will only focus on characters still in the town (so Rise, Chie and Naoto will not be playing large roles in the game).

Yosuke:

I’ve mentioned already where I see Yosuke in 2015 (directionless, just finishing college but still working at Junes) but I’ve also been tossing around a few ideas for future careers that I think would work for him. I think him being a mechanic or just generally handy with fixing things would be a good avenue to explore, not just because of his interest in motorcycles, but also because I think it would compliment his arc nicely; for someone who’s so afraid of screwing everything up, I think it would be good for Yosuke to realize that he’s really good at fixing things. it’s not too out of nowhere (he’s a broke college student, I’m sure he’s had to fix a leaky faucet in his apartment or something, and he must have tuned up and fixed his bike after he crashed it), and could be a thing he realizes (with Yu’s help ofc) over the course of his route that he just... never thought of as a legitimate skill before.

I’ve also thought about him joining the Shadow Operatives (Mitsuru’s team of shadow fighting elites, comprised mostly of former SEES members), which is usually my go-to when thinking about what his potential career could be, but in a lot of ways it feels like somewhat of a copout. On top of it glazing over Yosuke’s critical lack of personal identity, it also feeds into the idea that he isn’t anything special without his persona, which doesn’t exactly do much for character growth. I think it’s the most obvious and canon-compliant choice, and one that he would both enjoy and be good at, I worry about what it would mean for his character. Of course, Mitsuru recognizes his skills and would likely take him on no problem, and while I love the idea of Yosuke joining them and living a life full of excitement and badassery, I don’t think he needs to do much soul-searching to arrive at this decision.

So...

#1: What jobs and/or hobbies do you see Yosuke doing that utilizes his skills (either preexisting or ones you believe he could easily develop)? Thoughts on what I’ve said regarding his potential career?

Yu:

Yu has been giving me some pretty big headaches when trying to plot this game. Obviously, as the protagonist, giving him something interesting to do that also ties into the plot is important; which is why I’m leaning so heavily toward him working for the Inaba PD. It would fit with why he chooses to return to Inaba permanently, and would be plausible within the time period, along with obvious connections (Dojima) that could secure him a position within the force. My concern is that the game then becomes either too serious, or too heavily based around Yu as opposed to the rest of the cast. I definitely don’t want it to turn into yet another Inaba mystery, and choosing another profession for Yu would likely keep things a lot more lighthearted (if Yu’s working as an elementary teacher for example, the biggest problems he’s going to face are like, the stubborn kid in his class that won’t stop shoving pencils up his nose, maybe an angry parent, nothing TOO serious that requires a complex solution) and leave more time to focus on whichever route you choose.

HOWEVER, this job also would allow for easy cameos from outside characters (Naoto, Chie, Akihiko and the other Shadow Operatives) all of whom work closely with, or directly for the police. I just worry about it taking over and pulling the focus away from other characters. I don’t want it to be Detective Simulator: Persona 4 Edition, which is why I’ve also been throwing around other alternatives for Yu’s career (the obvious ones being teacher/daycare, and veterinarian) but it needs to be a job easily securable within the 3 year timeframe and a reason for him to move back to Inaba. If he’s still enrolled in college with the promise of a job at the end of it, there would be no reason for him to move and have to commute.

#2: Would you prefer Yu’s job be something more in the background rather than one of the major driving forces of the plot?

#3: Would you prefer Yu’s role be more of a player insert protagonist?

#4: Arena-style internal narration (first person, hearing Yu’s thoughts), or stick to P4′s approach (second person, slightly more objective)?

#5: Any suggestions for what you think would suit Yu as a career?

Naoki:

I’m completely fine having Naoki’s job staying as him just working at (and eventually inheriting) Konishi Liquors, but I think there’s still plenty to explore for his character outside of that. Because his SL focuses on Naoki grieving and Yu leaning not to treat him any differently, it doesn’t account for the rest of Inaba and how they treat Naoki. Small town reputations stick, and even if he’s managed to move past Saki’s death to an extent, everyone still knows him as the other Konishi kid, and I think he would really struggle to deal with that reputation. Even if he’s learned to open up to Yu, Yosuke, and a few of his school friends by the end of his SL, I can see him becoming incredibly jaded and growing tired of Inaba because he can’t manage to escape the public’s pity. I’ve thought about him turning to dangerous, risk-taking behavior and escapism as a result of this, but it’s pretty hard to change an entire town’s opinion of you and your family, and I don’t see where it could go from here other than him essentially running away from it all and giving up.

#6: Any ideas for Naoki’s route or character in general?

#7: Would you be interested in dating him, or would you prefer it either be platonic, or for him to be kept as a supporting cast member?

#8: Are you okay with heavy topics like (underage) alcoholism, or do you believe it would be better to avoid a plot like this?

Daisuke & Kou:

I’m honestly hesitant to include these two in the game at all, as I find it a little hard to believe that they’d stay in Inaba for that long.

#9: Any ideas for potential jobs that would keep them in Inaba?

#10: Would you prefer each of them to have separate routes, or have them grouped together?

#11: Would you be interested in dating them together, separately, or for them to have their route(s) kept platonic and for them be in a relationship with each other?

#12: Any general ideas for their route(s)?

Dates:

Since I have no set time frame for the game, I’m open to including all kinds of seasonal dates, festivals, and events (like Valentines or New Years, for example) and I’ll decide on a time of year based on that.

Aside from shared events between all routes, though, I’d love suggestions for some cute character-specific dates (eg. Yu takes Yosuke to a concert, Kanji and Yu go shopping for yarn, something like that). Please go ahead and be as random and specific as you want, it doesn’t have to be a massive event.

#13: Any general date ideas?

#14: Any character-specific date ideas?

Full question list under the cut:

Question list:

#2: Would you prefer Yu’s job be something more in the background rather than one of the major driving forces of the plot?

#3: Would you prefer Yu’s role be more of a player insert protagonist?

#4: Arena-style internal narration (first person, hearing Yu’s thoughts), or stick to P4′s approach (second person, slightly more objective)?

#5: Any suggestions for what you think would suit Yu as a career?

#6: Any ideas for Naoki’s route or character in general?

#7: Would you be interested in dating Naoki, or would you prefer it either stay platonic, or for him to be kept as a supporting cast member?

#8: Are you okay with heavy topics like (underage) alcoholism, or do you believe it would be better to avoid a plot like this?

#9: Any ideas for potential jobs that would keep Kou & Daisuke in Inaba?

#10: Would you prefer Kou & Daisuke to have separate routes, or have them grouped together?

#11: Would you be interested in dating Kou & Daisuke together, separately, or for them to have their route(s) kept platonic and for them be in a relationship with each other?

#12: Any general ideas for Kou & Daisuke’s route(s)?

#13: Any general date ideas?

#14: Any character-specific date ideas?

#ada's writing #i need a tag for this game....#persona 4 #ada speaks

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prettyboyspenceee · 5 years

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Almost

Request: “Hey! I was wondering if you could write an angsty Reid x reader where they are dating and both are in the BAU. Reader and him are evacuating people from a building with the bomb in it and the second Spencer gets to a safe place from the building, it blows up with the reader supposedly in it. basically very angsty but with a happy end where she survives and they reunite after the explosion 🙏🏻❤️” - @barbarachern

A/N: YESS. I am loving this concept so I am so excited to write it. I hope you like my interpretation! If this flops, Mr. Scratch wrote it. I also want to thank you guys on all the love for Like Teenagers! Thank you! I used the season 7 finale as inspiration for this. I was rewatching that episode yesterday and I couldn’t resist using it. I also tweaked it a bit, I hope you still like it!

Description: The Reader and Spencer both work at the BAU and it’s always a stressful time when the entire team is out in the field. When the bomb squad doesn’t account for one last bomb, things go terribly wrong.

Character Appearances: Derek Morgan, Penelope Garcia, Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Emily Prentiss

OC’s: Captain Seymour, The Joseph Brothers

Disclaimer: I do not own Criminal Minds, if I did, Reid would be HAPPY.

Remember, writing is never perfect!

Warnings: angst (ish)

Female Reader! x Spencer Reid

(Y/N) - Your Name

(Y/L/N) - Your Last Name

Word Count: 1,381

Posted: September 30th, 2019

---

As soon as you and Spencer got to work you were already out the door again with the rest of the team. The bullpen was filled with Homeland Security, field agents, Metro PD, and just about any law enforcement personnel you could think of.

“Reid, (Y/L/N), head to the SUVs, we have hostages and multiple bombs at the GreenValley Family Center.” Hotch quickly debriefed you on what was going on as you and the rest of the team rushed downstairs.

“How did the Unsubs past security?” JJ asked

“They posed as maintenance workers, it gave them easy access inside,” Hotch replied

You and Spencer shared a look. You both knew something about the day was off, but you couldn’t figure out why.

---

When the team got to the museum you began to figure out your strategy with the bomb squad.

“Captain Seymour, I’m Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N) and this is my partner Dr. Spencer Reid, what can you tell us about what is going on inside?”

“Not much. 911 calls reported that there was a shot that rang out through the museum, after that, no one could reach them.” He replied with a grim look. You nodded in response and walked back to your team.

You and Spencer told the team what you learned, “We need to open a line of communication. (Y/L/N), you’re going to take the lead on this while the rest of the team comes up with a plan. Rossi will be here to guide you,” Hotch directed the attention of the team to you.

You took a deep breath and wrung your hands together. You could see the worry in Spencer’s eyes as you nodded, “Okay. Tell Garcia to forward everything you guys find.”

As Spencer and the rest of the team left to their respective positions he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. To say the least, he was worried for you. You were his light in the darkness, he thought he would never find someone like that after Maeve. When Spencer found you, he knew that you were his soulmate.

He knew was that something was different about this case, he just couldn’t figure out what.

---

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up on the other end, “Hello? Who is this?” a gruff voice answered the phone.

“Hello. My name is Agent (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N). Whom am I speaking with?”

“Carl Edgar Joseph. You’re speaking with Carl Edgar Joseph.” You looked up at Rossi quickly, he sent the name to Garcia. You were confused, he had given up his identity too quickly.

“Alright, Carl. I’m here to help you, I can get you out of this. I just need you to let the hostages go. Send the women and children out first.”

He scoffed, “Why should I do that?”

You paused for a minute, “(Y/L/N), his younger brother, Raegan, was shot. Someone inside shot him. Use that as leverage.” You nodded as Rossi fed you the information.

“Carl, I know Raegan is hurt. I can get him the help he needs but only if you give me what I need.”

You heard him breathing over the phone and then a deep sigh, “There are 4 bombs. One for each door except for the front. I’ll let them all out,” You heard him take another deep breath, “Help Raegan.”

You saw Hotch signal to SWAT, the Bomb Squad and your own team to move in. All of the hostages were accounted for as well as the Unsubs. All the bombs Joseph told you about were accounted for and disabled. As the rest of the team evacuated the last of the hostages you did a final sweep of the building. You noticed that as you got further in the building your coms began to turn to static. You weren’t worried though, something about the static calmed you. You took your earpiece out and looked to your left and you paused, you were alone with a ticking clock attached to explosives and no way to contact your team.

---

As Derek brought out Carl Joseph, Spencer noticed something was off about him. Joseph locked eyes with Spencer, he smirked, “One more!” he said, his eyes gleamed with malice and ice.

Derek watched as Spencer approached Carl, “One more what?”

He grinned, “One more bomb,” and suddenly everything made sense to Spencer. Carl was a classic narcissist. He shot his brother and played (Y/N). He needed the attention, he needed the recognition, he had been planning this for weeks, maybe months, “Everyone will know my name. You’ll never forget it, Carl Edgar Joseph, the man who killed the Princess of the BAU.”

Penelope, JJ, Emily, Derek, Rossi, and Hotch all stopped in their tracks. Only they called (Y/N), Princess, it was an inside joke regarding her Halloween costume from one year. It was clear that Carl was watching them. He carefully executed his plan to make sure that is was (Y/N) to open a line of communication, he made sure that she was going to be the last one out. He knew that killing a federal agent that held the team together would get the most recognition. (Y/N) was his endgame.

Derek pushed Carl into the arms of a Metro PD officer and the rest of the team quickly turned to the family center. A large boom echoed across the streets of Washington D.C. JJ, Emily, Derek, and Hotch rushed to Spencer pulling him back from the explosion.

“LET ME GO” Spencer yelled. The rest of the team struggled to pull the young doctor back from the flames as they watched the burning building helplessly.

---

You knew you didn’t have a lot of time. 30 seconds was on the clock and there was no way you could run back to the front of the building. You couldn’t die, not like this. You hadn't told the team you loved them today, you hadn't said "I love you" to Spencer yet. There were still things for you to do.

You racked your brain for a solution, but then you remembered the blueprints. 300 feet to your right was an exit that led to the back of the safe zone where the team was. You had a chance. You sprinted to the exit and as soon as you stepped out the door, you were thrown by the blast.

---

As soon as the flames died down Spencer broke through the hold of his colleagues, "Spencer! You can't just go running in there, we don't have eyes in there!" JJ yelled.

"Like hell, I can't. JJ, what if it was Will? I love (Y/N), I can't lose her, " He saw Emily begin to open her mouth, "Spare me the lecture, Emily. I'm going in." He turned away from his team making his way to the building.

---

“Spence! Stop!” You called out. You were clutching your ribs and you felt some blood trickling down your face, but you were alive. You saw Spencer swivel around and sprint to you.

The rest of the team watched as Spencer pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, “Oh my god, you’re okay. You’re alive,” He whispered in your ear.

“Spence, you’re hurting me.” Your words were muffled by his Kevlar vest but he let you go.

He looked at you with tear-filled eyes, “You’re alive. You almost died,” he repeated.

“Of course I’m alive, Spence. The keyword there was almost, I wasn’t going to die without telling you I loved you.”

He grinned, “I love you too, (Y/N).” He pressed a hard kiss against your lips, never wanting to let you go.

The team watched as the couple reunited. They were broken apart by a loud whistle, “Alright lovebirds. Let’s get this Princess to the hospital.” Derek said with a smirk.

The team let out a collective laugh, all relieved that you were safe and sound. The ambulance made an exception and allowed the team to ride in the back with you, they couldn’t help but smile at the faint whispers of ‘I love you’s” and forehead kisses.

You and Spencer were soulmates. There was no doubt about it.

---

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sodone-withlife · 4 years

Text

i lost a friend (i lost my mind)

Criminal Minds Fic Part Two

| PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 |

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: character death, canon-typical violence, mental instability (I’m reluctant to name a specific disorder or condition)

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3, and this was my first whumpfic in this fandom so forgive me if it sucks. this is canon-compliant until after 12.01 The Crimson King

For Rossi, who had seen the case file and personally witnessed the aftermath, it was a horrifyingly familiar scene. The door was left unlocked, keys were tossed on the side table, a work bag on the couch, shattered glass on the ground with amber liquid spilled all over the tile, and a phone next to the dark red bloodstain on the carpet. The only thing missing from the perfectly staged scene was the gun that had been left on the table seven year ago

The lingering scent of sage told Rossi everything he needed to know, however: he had probably gotten to the apartment only minutes after Peter Lewis left and had taken Hotch with him. When Rossi had called to check in on him, he was probably already preoccupied with the escaped criminal. With the drugs, though, he thought gravely, the struggle would not have lasted long.

As he called the crime scene techs, some distant part of Rossi’s mind wondered if this was how Emily had felt seven years ago when she had come over to check on Hotch. It took thirty minutes for the techs to arrive at the apartment complex, and while waiting Rossi jotted down all that he could see in an effort to avoid going out of his mind with worry.

He stayed in the apartment while the techs were there, hoping to be able to preserve what he could after they turned the place upside down as they processed the scene. While he waited, he made a series of calls: first to Cruz to inform him of the situation, then to each of the team to tell them to head back to the office.

When Rossi finally arrived back at the BAU, he was accosted by the team, voices overlapping as they demanded information. He raised his voice.

“Hotch has been taken.”

He was met with shocked silence and gave them a moment before plunging forward. “I called multiple times to check in on him, but it went straight to voicemail each time. I got to his apartment, and it was staged just as it was seven years ago. The only thing missing was the gun on the table, and there was a lingering scent of sage.”

“Peter Lewis?” “Mr. Scratch?” Tara and JJ asked simultaneously.

“I considered the possibility of a copycat, but it’s too perfectly staged. That case was highly classified, and it hasn’t been hacked since the Replicator, and we know how smart that guy was. That victim in Arizona, and now this?” He trailed off, sending a grave look at Reid and JJ, the only others apart from Garcia and Hotch who had been there for both cases he referred to.

Reid finished the thought. “It’s definitely him.”

~~~

Hours passed as Cruz managed to wrangle leeway for the team, turning their cases over to other teams so they could direct their focus on finding their unit chief. With every lead Garcia found and they tracked that ended with another hint to yet another location, they became more and more certain that Scratch was toying with the profilers.

JJ had the presence of mind to ask after Jack, to which Rossi assured her he was safe and taken care of. It wasn’t a lie, he told himself, trying not to think about the team’s reaction when they would inevitably find out. I just mean it in a different way.

“We are getting nowhere with chasing whatever the hell Peter goddamn Lewis is leaving for us,” Garcia burst out in frustration, nineteen hours twenty-three minutes and seven seconds after Rossi discovered Hotch was missing. JJ placed a calming hand on her shoulder, even as she agreed with the analyst’s frustration.

“We need to take a step back, we’ve been pursuing this track since the beginning,” she shook her head and stood up, gesturing for the near-tears analyst to join her. “Bring a laptop, we’re going to get the others and try to look at this from another perspective.”

The team quickly gathered in the conference room, tension thick in the air as they looked to JJ.

“I think we need to look at this differently,” she told them. “We’ve been chasing what Scratch has been deliberately leaving us from the beginning, and that has gotten us nowhere.” She looked around the table at her colleagues. “Hotch is his target—the attacks directed at him have been designed to be the most psychologically damaging—so let’s look at the case from that direction.”

“Profile and dig into Hotch, you mean?” Reid clarified, feeling a strange mix of excitement and terror at the prospect, especially given the situation.

Rossi nodded slowly in agreement, speaking up after having spent the last few hours in angry silence as he chased down leads. “And figure out what Scratch might use, like what we did seven years ago—with Foyet”

“Okay, I’m sorry for interrupting, but can someone explain who this Foyet guy is?” Luke interrupted, a confused look on his face as those who had been present for that case went silent.

“George Foyet, also known as the Boston Reaper,” Rossi finally said after a few moments, vivid memories of that year pushing to the front of his mind. “Almost eight years ago, he broke into Hotch’s apartment and stabbed him nine times before dropping him off at the hospital. When Hotch broke through the anesthesia, we figured out that the Reaper was planning to go after his family, and so his wife and child entered protective custody.”

He looked up at the ceiling. “What we didn’t know was that the Reaper had been watching the marshal and Hotch’s family from the moment they entered the program, and almost a year later, he made his move.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Hotch had to listen as the woman he’d loved since high school got killed over the phone. When he finally got to the Reaper, he ended up killing him with his bare hands before he could hurt Jack.”

He looked at the horrified expressions on the newer profilers’ faces. “Everything was very different after that—understandably, of course. It was pure hell for him, and we made it a point to not talk about it unless he brought it up first.”

There were a few moments of heavy silence before Luke spoke up, an idea coming to him. “You said the staging in Hotch’s apartment was practically identical to the scene after Foyet attacked him?”

At Rossi’s nod, he sat up straight and quickly laid out his idea. “Scratch gets off on psychological torture, and that was proven by his attacks on Hotch. Knowing this, is it possible for him to have found another place of similar significance to Hotch that he might take him to?”

The profilers thought back on their interactions with the unit chief but shook their heads as they came up empty. They looked to Rossi, who stared at the center of the table, looking conflicted.

“Rossi?” JJ asked carefully. The man blinked, making a decision as he sat up straight.

“Manassas,” he said simply. At their confused looks, he clarified, “his hometown. He inherited his childhood home after his mother died, but he never went back, not once since he left for college.” He didn’t offer additional information, letting the others draw their own conclusions from the loaded explanation.

“Um, guys?” Garcia interjected, hand moving rapidly over her keyboard. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for any weird activity on the servers, and I just picked up an intruder in the system… it looks like they’ve implanted a link into Hotch’s file.” The team’s focus snapped to the analyst, who froze in horror.

“Garcia?” JJ asked concernedly. The aforementioned analyst stiffly grabbed the remote, turning on the larger screen, which showed what was on her laptop screen. The team turned to look, only for Rossi to leap up as their expressions morphed into one of horrified realization when they recognized who was thrashing on the bed, fighting against his restraints.

“Can you trace its origin?” Tara asked quietly, transfixed.

Garcia nodded quickly. “Yeah, I’m doing that right now, but it’s only being viewed by us right now.”

Reid fidgeted, unable to tear his eyes away from the sheer terror in his boss’s eyes. “Everything Scratch does is deliberate. This hack isn’t even discreet, so he clearly wants us to know about it and find the stream,” he thought aloud.

“It’s coming from Manassas.” Garcia looked up at Rossi, who looked both upset and relieved that his hypothesis was correct. “But it was only routed through a few proxy servers. It’s like he wants it to be this easy.”

An oppressive silence fell over the team.

“What the hell is his endgame?” Luke finally asked.

No one knew how to answer.

~~~

In the end, it didn’t matter what his endgame was. When Garcia managed to find surveillance confirming Scratch’s presence in Manassas, they went to Cruz. It was decided—reluctantly, on the team’s part—that the FBI tactical unit would move in while the profilers would be on standby on the chance that he would decide to play games.

(There was also a tacit agreement between the brass and the agents that, no matter what, Peter Lewis would never see the light of day again.)

They got to Manassas in under an hour and spent just as much time talking to the local PD and giving them a rundown on the situation. It was nearly sundown when they finally got into position around the run-down house after sweeping it extensively—they were under no illusions that he didn’t hide traps around the property.

“Anyone have a visual?” Rossi took the lead, asking into the radio.

“Affirmative on Peter Lewis, second floor southeast window.”

“Do not take the shot,” he instructed back over the radio as Garcia pulled up that live feed on the screens the profilers were huddled around inside the command vehicle. Much to their cautious surprise, Peter Lewis was standing in full view with his back to the window, looking down and seemingly watching something.

“What’s he doing?” JJ asked the question on all of their minds. No one answered her, all trying to decipher what they could see of his body language while knowing full well he was probably doing this on purpose.

The camera zoomed in. They watched as he deliberately turned to face the agents outside and smiled, eerily serene as he looked at the agents surrounding the house.

A movement in the background darkness caught Reid’s attention. “Is that…?” he started, pointing at the monitor. The others leaned in closer, only to jerk back when the sound of two gunshots came from the house.

“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed as JJ, Reid, and Tara looked back at the screen, Rossi and Luke having run outside to accompany the tactical team. The four stared as Peter Lewis slowly slid out the window he was hanging limply from, smearing dark red blood on the ledge and dropped bonelessly to the balcony under him, dead with two shots: one to the heart and one to the head.

~~~

Hotch (—not Aaron, never Aaron again, never, never, nevernevernever—) whirled around when he heard heavy footsteps heading towards his direction. He struggled to push past the blurry distortion of his vision while the part of his psyche which fractured back when he was a child tried to bring him back into his head (it’s not safe, it never was safe why are you trying so hard—).

(—nonono why are you aiming the gun what if it’s the team you’ll never forgive yourself for this—)

(—but what if it isn’t? What if Scratch planted that idea into your head, what if you didn’t actually shoot him, what if it was just the drugs, what if—)

“Aaron?”

(—no, no, no, NOT AARON) He flinched, limbs feeling both like lead and air as he stumbled over his feet trying to back away.

“Hotch?”

The room stopped spinning for just a brief moment, but long enough for Hotch’s eyes to clear and take in three things:

There were three members of the FBI tactical team in front of him with their semi automatics pointed at him

Rossi and Luke were standing just behind them at the doorway, Rossi in front and gun holstered with their hands in the air

He was pointing a gun at them, and his finger was resting over the trigger

(—what the hell is happening why am I preparing to shoot why do they have their weapons out why is Rossi looking like that is that even Rossi—)

Regarding what he was seeing with distrust, he kept his gun out and aimed at them as he whirled around to check what was behind him.

His gaze zeroed in on the blood smears, vaguely lowering the gun as he walked closer, tilting his head, transfixed. He looked over the window ledge to where the smears stopped and promptly stopped breathing. (—no, no, no I was right it was the drugs I didn’t actually kill him it was the drugs the drugsthedrugsthe drugs—)

Peter Lewis looked back at him, and eyes wide open.

In a split second, he leaped over the ledge and made his way to where Peter Lewis was, barely feeling the pain as his bare feet landed on the rocky and weathered stone floor of the balcony.

“Now I know what scares you,” his words (—the same ones from the first time no no no—) floated over to him, his mouth stretched open in a Glasgow smile.

Hotch blinked once, trembling as the sight before him shifted: Scratch had a dark red hole in his forehead and a dark red stain on his chest, blood pooling under him and looking well and truly dead.

He blinked again. There was that terrible smile again, his taunting voice talking to him again.

His shaking became more and more pronounced as Peter Lewis shifted from being dead to being alive, over and over and over—

He dropped to his knees, forcefully closing his eyes and putting his left hand over his ear as felt blindly for a pulse on Scratch’s neck as he tried to block out the distorted, taunting laugh.

(—I can’t feel one, but is he really dead? Am I just missing the pulse point? Wait, is that a pulse? No, no, no, he has to be dead hehastobedeadpleasehehasto—)

The laugh grew in volume as Hotch wrenched his arm away from his head and grabbed the gun he had dropped on the ground with his right hand.

(—why is it so loud why won’t he leave please get out please get OUT—)

A sharp, burning pain ripped through his side, but all he felt was relief as everything—including that terrible laugh and taunting—finally started to fade away into white noise, as his vision darkened and took the insane eyes away from his sight.

A sudden warmth engulfed him, and he knew no more.

~~~

Rossi’s heart stopped when he followed three of the tactical team into the room Scratch had been in. There was Hotch, blood dripping from multiple cuts on his face and still dressed in what he had gone to work in—only his shirt was hanging open and stained by the blood from the wounds that Scratch reopened after years of healing and scar treatments.

It took a second for him to realize why the tactical agents still had their weapons out: Hotch had a Glock aimed at them. He shoved down the instinct to keep his gun out as he realized the unit chief’s eyes were glazed, darting all over as he pressed his left hand to the side of his head and periodically closed his eyes and leaned into it as if he were in pain.

Instead, Rossi put his gun back in his holster and lifted his hands up. He ignored the sharp intakes of breath he could hear from Luke behind him when he found the standoff as Rossi tried for some familiarity.

It hurt to see him flinch and stumble backward when he tried using his first name. “Hotch?” he tried again, relieved to see his eyes clear. Rossi saw the moment Hotch become more cognizant of his surroundings—when he whipped his head around to check behind him.

Rossi watched as some of the tension drained out when Hotch slowly lowered his gun and turned his whole body away from them. “Hotch?” Rossi tried again, slowly moving forward and internally panicking when he didn’t respond.

He froze halfway across the room when Hotch looked over the window ledge, then he realized what had caught his attention when he climbed over and just stood, looking down.

Rossi looked out towards the front, noting Reid, JJ, Garcia, Tara, and other agents outside carefully watching the scene unfold, and then back inside, gesturing for the tactical agents and the two other profilers to stay back.

“Hotch?” he tried for the third time. When he saw him clamp his left arm over his ear and squeeze his eyes shut as if he was reacting to physical pain, he abandoned all caution and ran to the ledge, getting there in time to see him reaching forward blindly as he dropped to his knees.

The sunset cast a warm glow over the chilling scene as he suddenly realized with a pang that Hotch couldn’t trust his eyes or ears, that he was looking for a pulse to make sure the monster was dead.

His worry increased exponentially when Hotch started shaking, muttering “no” over and over again. It started out quiet, but it got louder and louder until it became a yell when he suddenly wrenched his hand away from his ear and stood up, a strange calm settling over his face, the complete opposite of the panic he had just exhibited.

Rossi lunged forward in horror when he realized Hotch had picked up the gun he’d dropped and was lifting it to the side of his own head, vaguely hearing Luke rushing for Hotch as he managed to pull his arm down.

There was a gunshot.

~~~

The moment they saw Hotch raise the gun to his head, JJ broke into a flat out sprint into the house as Reid, Tara, and Garcia froze in their place in shock. When a gun went off, an icy feeling settled at the bottom of their stomachs as they shook out of their stupor and started running behind JJ.

The four had the presence of mind to move out of the way at the shouts of the emergency personnel that had been on standby. By the time they made it to the balcony, Hotch was already unconscious and on a stretcher on his way down to the ambulance with Rossi sticking close behind, focused only on the man he considered his son.

“What happened?” Garcia asked shakily, looking to Luke who shook his head helplessly, staring at the dead psychopath.

Reid shook his head, a strange amalgamation of fear and loathing on his face as he turned and walked away, nothing more to do in the house. Garcia sent a pleading look towards the remaining three, a tear slowly falling down her face.

JJ sent a look towards Luke, who nodded. “I can stay and take care of clean up.”

“I can, too,” Tara added. JJ sent them a grateful look as she turned to guide Garcia out of the house and into the SUV Reid was in. The drive to the local hospital was charged with fear, the silence only interrupted by the profiler’s attempts to remain composed.

“What happened?” Reid repeated the question Garcia had asked on the balcony, voice breaking.

JJ swallowed, not taking her eyes off the road, and shook her head before answering after a few minutes of silence. “Peter Lewis had just under twenty-four hours with Hotch. Whatever happened, it was enough to make Hotch think that the best solution was to…” she cut herself off, unable to say the words aloud.

Silence once again reigned until the analyst broke it with a quiet, tearful question. “Is he going to be okay?”

No one answered the question for no one truly knew the answer.

The SUV remained silent for the rest of the drive. When they arrived, they sprinted as one through the entrance and crashed into Rossi as he made his way to the waiting room, staring at his bloody hands with a container of disinfectant wipes under his arm.

He didn’t look up, not even as JJ approached to help him clean Hotch’s blood off his hands, not even as Tara and Luke joined them. And that was how they remained: the team strewn about the waiting room until they were allowed to see the unit chief.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #dave rossi #aaron hotchner whump #tw character death #bau #sodone i lost a friend i lost my mind #tw attempted suicide

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psychovigilantewrites · 5 years

Text

Chapter 10 - Crunch

Pairing: Jason Todd/Reader

Genre: Smut/Action

Word Count: 4, 926 ( i know, shorter than my usual chapters, but this has a lot of plot progression i promise)

Masterlist

Ao3

TW: violence

“What the- what the actual-”

Dick’s voice almost scared you, breaking your concentration. You jolted up, your eyes immediately meeting his blue ones.

“Dick!” you exclaimed, rising up from your study table, “Didn’t Alfred ever teach you to knock?”

You crossed the floor from your desk to him, standing at your opened door. You threw yourself into his warm arms, feeling him squeeze you tightly.

“Alfred also taught me how to pick locks,” he chuckled, giving you a peck on the top of your head.

“What are you doing here?” you took a step back and crossed your arms.

“Nevermind that- what are you doing with all this?” he gestured to your floor.

Papers were strewn all over your room. From case files to articles to your notes. Dick bent down and opened a beige file.

“Wait- this is the series of Pyg’s murders in ‘07!” he gasped. He threw the file back on the floor only to pick up another. “And this is the murder of Sarah Gordon, when Joker kidnapped all those babies. Just what have you been doing?”

“Research,” you shrugged, “I’m sure you’re familiar.”

“That file on Pyg not only had the autopsy report, but also the pictures,” he pointed out.

“So?”

“So?” his eyes widen, “So, why are you obsessing over violent crimes?”

“A lunatic just kidnapped me a couple weeks ago, Dick, maybe this is my coping mechanism,” you defended yourself.

Dick pursed his lips, his expression changing.

“I don’t want your pity, Dick,” you told him, “I’m fine.”

“I know you are,” he smiled sadly, “Which is why I don’t think this is your coping mechanism.”

He walked to your bed and sat down, his handsome face catching the light of the setting sun outside your window, casting a shadow that made his usually bright and charming look turn into a more mysterious and dark character.

You smirked and joined him on the bed, sitting next to him.

You never could lie to him. Which was why this time it was going to be hard.

“Red Hood, he’s…” you struggled to put together the words, “Confusing.”

“Confusing?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, collapsing onto the bed on your back, “He’s got something against Bruce. Or Batman. Either one of them, he knows our identities, Dick.”

“It’s normal to be scared, or worried,” he offered you, “Knowing our identities make us vulnerable to him at all times, not only when we’re in uniform.”

“It does scare me a little,” you admitted, staring at the ceiling that both Alfred and Dick helped you repaint, “But mostly, I’m just frustrated. Why did he kidnap me if he was just going to toy with me and then let me go? Everything is just so unclear, and Bruce isn’t telling me the whole truth. That’s why I’m trying to figure it all out myself. I need to understand him- and in order to do that, I need to understand people like him.”

“Hence the..” Dick waved at your mess.

It wasn't a lie, but a half truth. That's what made it possible for you to deceive Dick or Bruce. You learned that by trial and error.

You did start to research to understand people like Red Hood better, but after a while, you suddenly became fascinated. The detail these people put into their torture, their time and effort. You were amazed at how passionate they were. Long gone was the girl who couldn't sleep because she saw decapitated heads on spikes.

But Dick didn't need to know that.

“Yeah,” you nodded at your ceiling. “Wait a minute.”

You shot up.

“Do you know who Red Hood is? Did Bruce tell you?” you interrogated Dick.

“He won’t tell me either,” Dick huffed, “It’s always been like that with him. No matter how hard I try to get closer to him, sometimes it feels like he’s getting further away.”

“I can relate to that,” you rolled your eyes.

“But I have a feeling that he will tell you eventually,” Dick put an arm around you, “It seems too important not to.”

You let out a snort. If it was important, he should have told you right after you got kidnapped.

“And,” Dick continued, suddenly giving you a noogie, causing you to squeal and push him away, “I heard from Alfred that you’re not talking to Bruce. May I ask why?”

“So that’s why you’re here,” you narrowed your eyes at him.

“I came to check up on you,” he told you sternly, “I’m sorry I couldn’t come here right after, but my little sister did just get kidnapped.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” you whined.

“Then you’re fine enough to tell me why you haven’t been talking to Bruce,” Dick probed, “I won’t judge. I’ve had my fair share of cold shoulders and fights with him too. I know first hand how frustrating he can be. So come on, tell.”

You let out a long and tired sigh.

“We fought,” you started, “It was when I got back from the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me who Red Hood was. And he- he called me ‘Jason’.”

You saw Dick close his eyes and squeezed his temples.

“Jesus,” he whispered, “What did he say exactly?”

“‘Back down, Jason’,” you repeated Bruce’s words solemnly.

“Now that’s something I haven’t heard in years,” Dick chuckled humorlessly.

You couldn’t stand to see the expression Dick had then, because he looked as if he was remembering a fond memory, reminiscing to a time when you weren’t around. His eyes suddenly aged, as if the sadness affected him physically.

You turned away, biting your lip. You tried hard to reel in the tears of jealousy and exclusion that burned your eyes. You focused your gaze to outside your window. It was around midday on a Saturday.

“Has Bruce made any attempts to reconcile?” Dick asked.

You took a deep breath before you answered, making sure your voice wouldn’t break.

“Yeah, but I’m still mad at him,” you pouted.

“And you have every right to be,” Dick acknowledged, “But Bruce, well, you know Bruce. He keeps these things to himself, but obviously he’s still hurting.”

You felt a wave of guilt crash over you.

He lost his son, and there you were being selfishly stubborn.

You didn’t reply, and suddenly an awkward silence filled the room.

“I’m seeing someone,” you changed the subject.

“You are?” you saw Dick’s eyebrows rise so high, they almost disappeared into his dark wavy hair.

“Yeah,” you blushed, “It’s still very new, and we’re not official yet or anything. But we’re definitely testing the waters.”

“That’s great,” Dick smiled widely at you, “Who is he? Tell me the deets. Spill the tea.”

You giggled at Dick’s ironic use of slang.

“I met him in the library a while back,” you spilled, “We exchanged numbers. Started texting, meeting up from time to time. He’s really cute.”

“I bet he is,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows.

“What’s with that face?” you laughed, “He is! He’s slightly older, and he’s got this sexy bad boy look, you know?”

“I thought you liked the nerdy types?” Dick responded.

“I never had a type, you ass!” you tried to poke him in the ribs, which he avoided skillfully.

“You’re right. I thought you were completely uninterested in boys,” he wondered out loud, “Is he nice, at least?”

“Yeah he is,” you smiled to yourself, “He didn’t know I was Wayne until 2 weeks ago. Before that, we were mainly texting. Now we’re meeting up more. I feel like I can be myself with him. I don’t know, there’s just something about him that makes me trust him.”

You noticed Dick frown at that.

“I’m not going to tell him anything!” you quickly added, “I’m not stupid. I know I shouldn’t trust someone I just met. It’s not about the confidential stuff. It’s the little things like how I feel, and my problems, and just- stuff, you know?”

“I get it,” Dick nodded understandingly, “You don’t know what it is about the person, but you feel like the two of you just click, am I right?”

“Exactly,” you smiled, “Been with anyone like that before?”

“One or two,” he shrugged, “People like that- whom you just click with- they’re hard to come by. You should see where this leads. Who knows, maybe he’s one of those that would stick around, huh?”

“The only problem is this big fat secret,” you complained, “It gets tiring sometimes. Lying, that is. About the injuries, about activities. I mean, how do you start a relationship based on lies?”

“That’s why you have to make sure they’re worth the effort,” he said simply, “You’re a smart girl, and way mature beyond your age. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“Thanks, Dick,” you gave him a side hug.

“Since you haven’t been talking to Bruce for the last two weeks, does this mean you haven’t been on patrol?”

“Of course I have!” you clarified, “I go out with him, and interact when I have to. But I keep my words concise and I don’t ask questions.”

“Sounds all too familiar,” he chuckled.

“How long are you staying?” you looked at him with hopeful eyes. You loved it when Dick was around. He was the affectionate older brother you never knew you wanted, who spoiled you with snacks and dessert.

“I was just dropping by,” he gave an apologetic look, “I’m a liaison for Bludhaven PD, with Gotham City PD, since they know Bruce is on good terms with Gordon.”

“On a Saturday? Which case is it?”

“That arson case,” he explained, “The third that got away, he was causing problems up in Bludhaven a few months prior to that. Gordon asked for some files, and… A detective who’s familiar with the case.”

“You made detective?!” you squealed, “Congratulations! Not many people make detective in their middle-almost-late twenties.”

You tackled him into a bear hug.

“Thanks,” he laughed out loud, “Apparently this guy, Jerome Miller, he's always hired to do stuff like that.”

Jerome Miller. The one that got away. You clenched your jaw at the mention of his name, willing your blood to not boil.

“Burn buildings?” you scoffed, hiding your true feelings from your older brother, “Why would people hire other people to burn buildings?”

“Buildings like the library, you know how their fire system works. It's like the bank. Once a fire starts, the system suck up all the oxygen,” he explained, “It's not easy to burn down buildings like those. So people hire professionals.”

“You're saying someone else hired him to burn the library down?” you frowned, “But why?”

“That's what GCPD is trying to figure out. Could be one of those location disputes. Higher ups are probably involved. It wouldn't be the first time in this goddamn city,” he shrugged.

You remained silent.

Of course, politics. Corruption had this bad habit of snaking into people's lives and ruining things.

“Promise you I’ll catch the guy, okay?” Dick offered, “I know how much that library meant to you.”

“Thanks, Dick,” you gave him a small smile, his promise comforting you. Your bond with your older brother could never be explained with just words. He gave you a sense of protection that went just beyond the physical sense that you felt with Bruce. With Bruce, you knew you could rely on him. But Dick was the one you told your secrets to. And he could make you feel better with just a simple promise such as the one he gave.

“No problem, kid,” he grinned, “I should get going, though. Gordon said he’d be free after lunch.”

“I’ll walk you out,” you hopped off the bed.

*** “Uh, Bruce?” you awkwardly stood behind him as he was sitting down in front of the Batcomputer- all geared up as Robin.

He spun around, looking at you questioningly. He was geared up as well, besides the cowl. You could see the dark circles under his eyes, the crows feet that were starting to be visible. He looked tired.

“Alfred told me you hadn’t eaten much all day, so, uh, I made you something light to have before we head out later,” you hesitantly set down a plate of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the desk.

You almost missed the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards.

After talking to Dick earlier that day, you felt guilty for continuously being mad at Bruce. This was your way of reconciling to him.

“Thank you,” he nodded, reaching for one.

“So,” you cleared your throat, “What are we up to tonight?”

“Patrol as usual,” he elaborated, “Red Hood has been busy. With Black Mask gone, he’s technically the only one in power as of now. Even Penguin has been laying low because of him. GCPD reports a fifteen percent surge in weapons and drug trafficking along with gang related crime the past three months, but strangely a thirty-two percent drop in petty crime, murder, sexual assault.”

“Thirty-two percent is a lot,” you frowned.

“Indeed,” Bruce agreed, “In fact, it’s the lowest since Batman first appeared.”

“Which is a very long time ago,” you nodded.

“Even the Ibenescus’ have been keeping it down. Though I have reason to believe that they still are not submitting to Red Hood,” he added.

“Why?”

“The Ibenescus’ built an empire through human trafficking, and they date back all the way to the eighteenth century. The Moehler family does not nearly come as close to a crime legacy the way the Ibenescus do. The Ibenescus’ have more pride to lose more than anything. They wouldn’t surrender so easily and completely stop all their operations,” he summarised.

“I see,” you absorbed everything, “Okay, well. Patrol it is.”

You honestly expected a quiet, boring night. The past few weeks had just been stopping drug exchanges, interrogating drug dealers, and one or two car chases involving a vehicle suspected to contain smuggled weapons.

But that night, the GCPD comms were active.

Thanks to Dick’s information on his habits, GCPD had been patrolling specific locations where Jerome Miller would most likely loiter in, and at 11pm that night, a cruiser identified him buying a couple of Slim Jims in a 7-Eleven at Upper East Side on Verne Avenue, and tried to arrest him. He made a run for it, and now there were three police cars circling the area. Wherever Miller was, he was trapped.

Both you and Batman were now patrolling the area, in hopes of finding him. Batman interacted with you as usual, and you tried to do the same.

But at the mention of Jerome Miller, you felt your heart beat louder in your chest. You were extra vigilant that night, your senses somehow even more heightened as you strained your night-vision to look at every little crook and cranny in every little smelly alley that he could be hiding. You went as far to check inside dumpsters.

And at a quarter past midnight, you finally laid your eyes on him from the edge of a roof.

He was a sweaty, panting mess. His straw hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes wild with panic and he jumped at every small sound. He was hiding in a cardboard box, covered partially with a dirty towel. It probably belonged to one of the homeless, who was nowhere to be seen.

“Batman,” you communicated through your earpiece, “I’ve got eyes on him. Between ten and twelfth Verne Avenue. I’m going to incapacitate him.”

“Wait for me,” Batman ordered.

You wanted to argue back so bad, but you didn’t want to mess up your relationship with him again, especially since you were on good terms.

“Hurry then,” you said.

“I’ll be there in 1.”

You lurked on the rooftop, your eyes now entirely focused on him.

You revelled in the fact that he looked like he was about to shit his pants. He deserved it. For fucking with your library.

You swallowed. Your vision was tunneling. All you saw was him.

Your heartbeat was drumming in your ears.

He deserved it.

Fuck it, you thought. You grappled down and landed right in front of him.

He let out a small yelp, and his eyes immediately went wide when he saw who it was.

“I was paid, he made me do it,” he started pleading.

Funny how they all start to plead when they saw either you or Batman. Funny how they didn’t think of the repercussions before they did the crime.

You took a step closer.

“Please, don’t take me in,” he begged, “I have a family. They need me.”

The man’s words never registered to you. All you could hear were blubbering sobs. You bent down and gripped his shirt, forcing him up on his feet.

But before you could reel anything in, before you could even think- for the first time in your life, you acted first without thinking of the repercussions.

That was when the white hot rage blinded you.

You could taste the blood in your mouth as you threw him violently to the floor like a ragdoll with all your might, your blood boiling hot as you heard the sweet crunch of the man’s skull break as you landed blows after bloody blows to his face.

You took his head in both your hands, lifted it from the ground and then smashed it back into the the tar floor.

Your eyes couldn't focus on anything else. The world seemed to melt with around you into a blur. The only thing that existed was your revenge.

A pressure on your shoulder snapped you out of your trance. Suddenly you felt a lurch, and you were flung across the alley, your back hitting the metal dumpster with a loud bang. Your eyes focused again to see Batman hovering over the bloody mess of a man now a metre away from you.

The bloody mess you made.

You felt the bile rise in your throat. Your knuckles were aching, your head pounding. You now felt the effects of your assault on him as the adrenaline and rage wore off slowly.

And you were horrified.

You scrambled to your feet and started to walk towards the two of them.

“Stay. Back,” Batman growled at you.

You stopped right in your tracks. Batman was checking for a pulse.

The man's face was unrecognisable. You had disfigured him so much that he looked like a heap of meat and skin and blood.

“I- I- I didn't mean to,” you whispered, holding down the puke.

“Call an ambulance,” he ordered.

You froze on the spot, still looking at your victim. You saw his chest rise and fall, but somehow it was wrong. Only one chest was inflating. You heard his laboured, weak breathing. You saw his arms and legs twitching.

“NOW!”

His raised voice made you jump, and you immediately took out your phone and dialled 911. Once you ended the call, you took another step closer.

“Leave. I’ll deal with this,” his cold voice demanded.

“Batman,” you whispered again, trying as hard as you could to not break down.

“I said leave,” he snapped.

You ran out into the drizzling rain and rode your bike home without another word.

***

It was your third time showering that night.

You had scrubbed your skin so raw that it was red and felt tingly.

Especially your face. You couldn’t stand to look at yourself in the mirror. Because when you got back, you saw the blood splatters. On your mask, on your cheeks, across your nose, all from the man you beat half to death with your own fists.

You puked the minute you reached the toilet, hurling away the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches you ate earlier.

But what you tasted on your tongue was the familiar metallic tang of iron, and bitter guilt.

You had completely disregarded everything the man had said to you, and you just attacked him. Why? Simply because you were angry.

Simply because you felt like it.

Simply because you could.

There’s no shame in spilling blood for the greater good , your mother’s voice popped in your head.

You hadn’t heard from her in a while, and her unwelcome presence shocked you.

You would have justified Red Hood’s actions with that logic, but even Red Hood’s cruelty were driven with a slightly righteous, albeit delusional, motivation.

But yours were purely personal rage.

That’s when you realised your actions were even worse than Red Hood’s.

You sobbed yourself to sleep that night, ignoring the countless knocks on your doors by both Alfred and Bruce, and the 32 missed calls from Dick.

***

“...last night, the vigilante Batman is now a suspect for violent assault against known arson Jerome Miller, who himself is a suspect for Gotham University Public Library’s unfortunate demise…”

Jason’s ear perked, and he stopped right in his tracks.

He ignored the scowl he got from the man behind him who almost walked into him and turned to the window display of televisions, all of different sizes, showing him a blonde woman at a desk, with blue background.

“...Jerome Miller was brought straight to the emergency department, and reports tell that he is currently in a comatose state. Has Gotham’s vigilante finally decided to show his true colors of violence? Or do you think that Jerome Miller had it coming? Stay tuned, on GNN.”

Jason frowned.

The Batman Jason knew wouldn’t have landed Jerome Miller in the hospital. Batman never cared for personal grudges. No, he was too disciplined to let his feelings get in the way of his work.

Jason knew that all too well.

He sensed that Batman was just covering for Robin, for you.

He smirked to himself, not caring if the people in the streets thought he was crazy. He looked up at the gloomy sky- despite it being noon- and thought about you.

You were probably getting in a whole lot of fucking trouble with Bruce right that instant. You must have lost control last night when you saw Miller, and boy did that make Jason’s day.

He was right about you after all. He knew you were hiding something dark inside you. He knew that you were almost just like him. All you needed was a little nudge in the right direction.

Were you crying all night? That was probably why you hadn’t replied to his text message yet.

His mind conjured the image of you from those weeks ago, crying at the park. Red eyes, red nose, sniffling away.

He frowned at the memory. He wanted to comfort you. Even now, his chest suddenly ached at the thought of you being in anguish and drowning in guilt.

What was fucking wrong with him?

He pushed away the fucked up mess he felt was brewing inside of him. He ignored how conflicted he felt.

He focused instead on his curiosity. You landed Jerome Miller in a coma. No doubt Miller would have been begging and sputtering about his wife and kid- yet you must have ignored everything. He needed to know what you did to him.

He stuffed his hands back in the front pockets of his hoodie, and then hunched over, looking down as he turned around and walked the opposite way of where he was going, and straight towards the hospital Miller was admitted in.

“I’m his nephew,” Jason told the two police officers stationed outside Miller’s room. He had peeked in. Miller’s face was covered in bandages. He had a ventilator attached, and one of his legs was in a cast, elevated.

“I don’t need to see him or anything, considering he’s, well, unconscious,” Jason scratched the back of his head innocently, “But Anna, my aunt- his wife, just wants to know his condition.”

“Then why don’t she come see him herself?” the shorter one huffed.

“A-are you kidding me?” Jason tried to look offended, “She has stage four cancer! She’s on chemo, she can’t move around much. Come on, officer. What does the medical report say? His family deserves to know.”

“How do I know you’re not just some reporter, huh?” the same man demanded.

“No offence, officer, but do I look like a reporter to you?” Jason smirked.

“Hey, Charles,” the other officer whispered to his partner, “I think he’s legit. BPD did mention about his wife in the case file.”

“Anyone could have gotten that information!” he argued back.

“Remember what that pretty boy detective said? Miller was very protective of his family. That kinda info don’t just get spread out like that.”

Officer Charles narrowed his eyes at Jason. And then- “Fine. You tell him, Graham, you’re better at the science stuff than I am.

Officer Graham looked at Jason apologetically. He was about ten years younger than his partner.

“The doctor said he’s got fractures on his cheekbone, his jaw is dislocated, missing teeth, nose is shattered, his orbital bone’s all messed up, one punctured lung, one broken tibia, and Grade 3 diffuse axonal injury- that’s what the doctor said,” Officer Graham’s lip tightened, “Doctor said his chances aren’t looking so good. I know he’s a criminal, but his family aren’t. I’m sorry.”

Wow, you really did a number on him.

“Thank you, officers,” Jason said with a long and sad sigh, “Aunt Anna- it’ll kill her. I don’t know how I’m supposed to tell her. They’ve obviously had disagreements, and she doesn’t support his actions, but she doesn’t have anyone else.”

“I’m truly sorry,” Graham offered again.

Jason nodded and turned to leave, secretly happy with his ability to act. He got so used to acting when he was with you, that it came naturally to him now.

But most of all, he left the hospital with an intense feeling of pride. Even if you were beating yourself up over it, it didn’t change how he felt.

He was just so fucking proud of you.

***

“You didn’t have to take the blame,” you croaked.

Your eyes were stinging, and your nose hurt every time you breathed. You were sitting down at the dining table, across from Bruce. You had expected him to yell at you like before, to do something when you came in and took your seat.

But he did something much worse.

He looked at you with pity and concern.

You looked at him through swollen eyelids.

“Why aren’t you yelling at me?” you whispered, “Aren’t you angry?”

“I’m furious,” he calmly stated.

“Then, why-” your voice cracked.

“Because it wouldn’t make a difference now,” he sighed.

“I’m a monster. I understand if you tell me to quit,” you said, “I can’t believe- I just- I’m exactly like them.”

“Then what does that make me?” you saw Bruce giving you an odd expression.

He was smiling sadly.

“What?” you asked, confused, until you realised what he was talking about, “No, Bruce. That was different.”

“I killed your parents,” he said as a matter of fact, “So what does that make me?”

“You didn’t kill them, Bruce,” you argued, “You were under the influence of- of whatever it is they gassed you with.”

“It was supposed to be fear toxin,” he reminded you, “They were experimenting with Scarecrow’s toxin when I broke in.”

“Yeah, see?” you tried to prove your point, “So it’s not your fault.”

“I wouldn’t have displayed the wrath I did- which led to your parents being pushed off the balcony- if I were emotionally stable,” he said, “They fell because of me. Because I wasn’t myself.”

“No one blames you,” you told him, “I don’t blame you. You had the right to be unstable, Bruce, your son died three months before that. I can’t believe you still think this way.”

“Yet, they still died on my watch, because of my aggravation,” he pointed out, “But if I were to quit every time I did something because I was unstable, well. We wouldn’t be here.”

“Stop being nice to me, Bruce,” tears welled your eyes, “It makes me feel even worse than if you got mad at me.”

“Good,” he smiled at you kindly.

So that was his punishment. To be understanding.

“I’ve got bad genetics,” you argued, “There’s been a lot of research on it and it shows that there is a gene to be passed down.”

“The psychopath gene?” Bruce smirked, “You’re not a psychopath. Your parents were. You feel remorse. Psychopaths don’t.”

“But, even if it’s not pure psychopathy, there must be some other traits, right?” you rationalized.

An attraction to violence, for example.

Bruce just gave you a long and tired sigh.

“Even if you were to have this so-called psychopath gene,” Bruce continued, “It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person. Everyone has some form of good in them. Even your parents. In their own twisted way, they thought that all those experiments would bring a great contribution to the scientific community- and to humanity as a whole. Regardless of their true motivations, they comforted themselves in that delusion. Not all psychopaths are criminals, remember?”

You remained silent, mulling over his words.

“You think people, no matter how bad they are, can be saved?” you finally asked.

“It’s one of the reasons why I don’t kill,” he said, “People change. It’s just a matter of the help they get.”

“Even Joker?” you scoffed.

“Even Joker,” he nodded, “Though, I’ve stopped myself from killing him mainly due to selfish reasons. But I do believe that there is a way to cure him. We just haven’t found it yet.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd smut #jason todd reader insert #batman #nightwing #red hood #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #dceu #dc #dc comics #under the red hood #Batman: Arkham Knight #red hood and the outlaws

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basket-of-cats-and-witches · 4 years

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Children

My brain is mush again, thanks

Anyway The Wayhaven Chronicles is my current obsession, still, and writing Adam is absolutely one of the most difficult things I’ve done. Sorry if what I post comes out a little OOC, I just really wanted to see Adam and Rory’s children interacting. It ended up being mostly just one of them, but I really hope you all enjoy.

I love getting to write for people.

Very mild spoilers for Book Two. This is mostly time ambiguous, happening sometime after the events of book one, in the future. Also points to pronoun-fluid characters. You’ll see what I mean.

*blows kisses to the sky* Thank you Seraphine for writing this masterful CoG and giving me inspiration.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It wasn’t like the detective to not pick up their phone. Adam knew this, knew it like he knew the back of his hand, or when Felix was about to cause a whole hell of a lot of mischief. Rory should have responded by now. His fingers twitched as he paced the living room, ignoring the knowing grin on Nate’s face. They have their own life, they won’t be attached to their phone all the time, another part of him argued. It wasn’t like he needed to see them. It was a small matter, confirming that Rory was still showing up tonight for more combat training. Still…. “Adam.” His head snapped up at the mention of his name, his hands releasing their destructive grip on the dining room table. There would have to be another order to replace it. He’d left a mark. “My child hasn’t responded to any of my calls,” Rebecca Argent said, walking up to the living room. “Would you mind doing me a favor and checking up on them? I would, but I have a conference call in fifteen minutes.” She gave him a thankful smile as he nodded, the motion curt, and watched him stride out of the room. “Thank you, Agent Argent. I was afraid he was going to wear a hole in the floor.” Adam heard Rebecca chuckle softly as he walked away. “I’m quite sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Agent Sewell. I was just concerned about the table.” As the front door closed behind him, he missed Nate’s laughter in response.

A cool breeze swirled around the Wayhaven PD parking lot, kicking up a small dust storm that swirled and crumpled as it hit Adam's feet. It was a chilly afternoon, almost too cold for his liking, and he quietly relished the burst of warmth as he walked through the precinct doors. That strange, melancholy peace was immediately disrupted as a small form collided into his legs. "Oops! Sorry!" Looking down, he saw a young girl with a mass of wild curly blond hair, maybe six at the most. She rubbed her nose, pouting, before looking up. And up, and up. He watched as her eyes went round, noting bemusedly that they were same shade of green as Rory's. The same color as Detective Argent's. "Sorry mister!" She chirped, clearly unapologetic is the way children often are. Watching as he kneeled down to her level. "Be careful next time. You could hurt somebody, you know." He internally winced at the gruffness in his voice- his job didn't allow for much experience with children, and now was no exception. But the little girl simply giggled. "I don't think I could hurt you, you're buge!" Someone sighed, exasperated. "'Huge', Sage. The word you're looking for is 'huge'." The girl whirled around, and Adam had a brief second to meet Detective Rory Argent's eyes before they were being climbed like a tree, the small child quickly making her way to hang off their side. Rory seemed used to this, their eyebrow quirked in dry amusement. "Good morning, Adam. Glad to see you've already met one of my daughters." "Good-" rising to his feet, he stumbled over his words. …. Daughters? "Good morning, Detective. I was...unaware you had children." Thinking back, he tried to remember whether Agent Argent had mentioned any grandchildren, whether he'd seen any family photos in Rory's home. Not that he should have remembered it so well. The Detective's style was too much like his own. Too much like feeling like he belonged. Rory chuckled, adjusting Sage to their hip. Seemingly reading his mind, they tilted their head and said, "My mother was unaware of my children until recently if that's what you're trying to figure out. Our tumultuous relationship included a bone of contention- I sent her an invitation to the baby shower while I was pregnant with the twins, and she never responded. I assumed she wouldn't visit, I was living in Germany at the time. I didn't realize she wouldn't respond *at all*." He nodded, watching as an identical version of Sage moved to cling against Rory's leg. The other girl seemed to barely notice him at all, her nose stuck in a book. Unlike her sister, her hair was neatly braided back, a few curls wriggling free of their bonds to fall around her face. "Adam du Mortain," he snapped to attention the moment Rory said his name, unable to ignore the detective. Never able to ignore them. "This is Sage and Rosemary Dietrich. They're my twin daughters. Rosie girl, Sage, say hello to Agent Du Mortain." The child reading a book glanced up at him, seeming to shrink back a little more behind her father when she realized there was a very big person in front of her. "H-hello," she mumbled quietly, "it's nice to-" "It's nice to meet you! Hello! I'm Sage!" Her sister immediately interrupted, her voice loud and cheerful. She wiggled in Rory's arms. "Daddyyyyyy, I want down!” The detective sighed, giving Adam an exasperated look before they knelt down, setting their daughter on her feet. “Pumpkin, we’ve talked about this, you have to ask nicely…” The words they said seemed to fade for Adam as he watched, feeling his heart twist at seeing the softer side of Rory. The way they patted their daughter’s arm gently, tucking an errant lock away from her face, lovingly tugging away wrinkles and folds in her shirt, despite the fact that it was most likely a futile attempt. As the detective glanced up, their more excitable daughter slipping out of their arms and running off somewhere, they met Adam’s gaze. The world around them became almost nonexistent. Rory smiled, almost tenderly, and the Vampire felt his heart twist in his chest. “Adam,” the detective said softly, his name precious and treasured upon their lips, “Would you like to join me and the girls for-” The phone rang sharply, cutting through the air, and Rory made a face. “Hold on. I’ve got to get that. Rosie my girl, would you mind accompanying Agent Du Mortain to the round table?” The shyer daughter nodded, looking up at him and slipping her tiny hand into his. It seemed he had been vetted as a trusted person, at least for now. “This way,” she said solemnly, watching as her father ducked into their office. She tugged gently at his hand. He followed. Normally he would politely but firmly refuse, but he doubted the little girl would listen. And when large green eyes glanced back at him, checking to make sure he was still there, all of his resolve crumbled away. She looked too much like a miniature Rory, even with a big book tucked underneath her arm. Would he and the detective…? He immediately crushed that whisper in the back of his mind. No. He refused to even entertain that line of thought. The detective deserved better. It wouldn’t happen. Rosemary let go of his hand only to reach up and twist the doorknob, before swiftly reclaiming it once more. "This is the round table," she said solemnly. "Daddy and his knights meet here." Adam practically choked on a breath as she said that, leading him into the room. He was very familiar with it, seeing as it was where Unit Bravo and the Detective had met many times before. Rosemary tugged him over to the table, pushing herself onto one of the chairs and opening her book. Adam glanced down. Should he attempt to reclaim his fingers? He hesitated. The little girl likely had no idea what he was, what he had done. He felt so much animosity towards humans, and yet… She was so fragile. Rosemary settled easily, her eyes flicking across the words on the page. He could hear her heartbeat, the rush of her blood, the slow breaths in and out. The detective’s daughter was as confident and brave as they were, it seemed. Both of their daughters, although in seemingly different ways. Rosemary held onto his fingers, completely relaxed in his presence, and he couldn’t help but think that he didn’t deserve it. “Daddy’s going to be right back.” He glanced down at the girl in surprise, so lost in thought that he hadn’t realized she’d begun watching him in return. “He’s just got some phone calls. He’s important, you know. Daddy’s the king.” Adam quirked a brow, kneeling down. Even in the chair, she was small for a child. Now that they were at eye level, he responded in kind. “What is he the king of?” She shrugged, lifting up her book, struggling a bit with the weight of holding it one-handed. *Legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, and Other Tales*. “Daddy’s the king of Camelot,” she informed him loftily, as if he should be ashamed for not knowing such information. He bit back a smile at her tone. “My uncles and Z are his knights. Sage thinks that Verda’s Daddy’s grumpy jester, but I think it’s Douglas. His hair is silly.” She made a motion with her hand as if to show Douglas’s hair flipping up. “But Daddy added new knights to the story.” “Oh?” He felt the smile on his face try and widen, breaking through his serious demeanor. Rosemary’s solemn nod was too much like Rory’s, all business, direct and to the point. It made his heart ache sweetly, a melancholy that almost left him breathless. He understood now why the Detective hadn’t mentioned their daughters beforehand- all he wanted to do was wrap Rosemary up and hide her from the world. Hide her from people who would be looking for her father’s blood. “Yeah. He calls them the Knights of Bravo. Grandma, the old Queen, sent them to help protect Daddy.” She shrugged. “But Daddy can beat anyone, so I don’t get it. Daddy says even a King needs help sometimes. He says they meet at the round table sometimes, but usually at the Knights’ house, or Grandma’s castle. He says it’s why he’s away so often, and why he can’t call Sage and me like he used to.” She huffed, and squeezed his hand a little harder. It was barely anything to him, barely any pressure on his skin. He tilted his head. “Does Da- er. Does your father,” he said, correcting himself quickly, feeling his cheeks heat, “live with you? Why does he need to call you?” “Daddy lives in his castle,” she replied simply. “Papa and Daddy used to be happy together, but they started to make each other sad, so they live apart so they don’t make each other cry. But Papa cries anyway…” she glanced down, sighing. “He tries to hide it so Sage and I don’t hear. But he also used to yell at Daddy, and we heard that, too. Daddy moved away because Papa was being mean to him, and Sage and I make them both laugh so that they don’t think we’re being mean to them, and they won’t move away from us, too.” Adam took her hands in his, swallowing hard. He was the wrong person for this. *Why isn’t Nate here when I need him?! This is not…I am not equipped to handle this.* He took a deep breath in, and then out. “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Rosemary,” he began softly. “I think you’re a sweet girl, and that your father loves you very much. Er, both of them. I’ve known your father for a while now. He’s kind, and caring, and devoted. I don’t know your other father, but I do know Rory. Trust me when I say the detect- er, Rory, probably loves you very much. I think you’d have to be very, very mean to hurt his feelings, and even then he still wouldn’t leave you.” She sniffled. “You mean it?” “Yes.” He surprised himself with the vehemence of his response, although he knew he meant it, the feeling resonating through his bones, through his soul. The detective already considered Unit Bravo their family, reluctant as they were to work with their mother. From the very beginning, from their first meeting here in this very room, Rory hadn’t once stopped caring. Often at the risk of losing their own life. Remembering the feel of their touch against his cheek, covered in their own blood after Murphy’s fight, their words of reassurance. Remembering how they made Mason laugh with a snide remark, hugged Felix tightly after a tender moment, chatted excitedly about books with Nate. The detective loved them. And in return, Unit Bravo, Adam included, loved- Oh. Oh. He felt a tiny hand slip out of his own, touching his cheek and coming away wet. “You’re sad,” Rosemary stated matter-of-factly. “Did I make you sad?” He shook his head, surprised at the slight coolness from his tears. He hadn’t even realized they were happening. “No. I just thought something that made me hurt. I’ll be okay.” She frowned, her brow furrowing in the way her father’s often did, a tiny mirror image of the detective. “But you’re still crying.” Rosemary suddenly perked up. “Do you want me to read you a story? Daddy reads them when Sage and me go to sleep every night. Sometimes he sings, but I’m not very good at it. Daddy says Grandma wanted him to be an op-er-a singer.” She made a face. “I don’t like op-er-a. The girls and guys’ faces are always weird and scary. Sage thinks they’re funny, and she always wants Daddy to play it on the TV.” Adam chuckled, rising up to pull a chair next to the little girl. “Well, if you think the faces are scary, perhaps we should stick to the books. I like your idea. Tell me your favorite story.” Rosemary gave him a bright grin, front teeth gap-toothed, and flipped through the book. She stabbed a finger at the page. “It’s Morgana Le Fay! She’s a witch, and Z always does her voices when they’re around. She’s their favorite. I like Daddy’s version of the story. I think Morgana just wants a friend.” She glanced at him, making sure he was paying attention, before starting up. “Okay. Once upon a time, there was a little girl living in a big castle with her mama and sisters…” Later Rory picked up Sage, hauling her over their shoulder, grinning at her squeals of laughter. “Okay, Sagey bean! Let’s stop bothering uncle Verda, he’s got work to do! Should we find your sister, little princess?” The little girl burst into laughter, wriggling in her father’s arms. “Noooo, Daddy! Rosemary is the princess, I wanna be a knight!” Rory rolled their eyes, glancing over to a grinning Verda, who shrugged cheerfully. Kids. Whatcha gonna do? They blew a raspberry into the fat of their daughter’s chubby cheek, smiling wide as more laughter burst from her. “A knight, huh? A knight should be able to find a princess, no matter what! Are you prepared for the journey, brave warrior?” Sage wriggled some more, like the worm she secretly was. “Yeeeeees!” The moment her father set her down, she took off like a shot, scrambling up the stairs of the basement, heading up into the precinct proper. “I can’t believe you let Rosemary just hang out with Agent Du Mortain, Rory,” Verda teased softly. “I’ve seen you growl at the mayor before when he even brought them up in conversation. You must trust him, huh?” His expression danced with light humor, even as his tone grew serious. Verda alone knew the sheer lengths Rory went to, keeping their home life separate from their work. Even if he didn’t know how strange Rory’s work life truly was. The detective nodded. “Yes. I trust him with my life.” They smiled softly. “So now that that’s out of the way, it means I can trust him with my children, too.” Rory looked up at the sound of little feet descending the stairs, quickly reaching out and catching Sage as she stumbled down the last few steps. “Sage, did you find your sister?” The little girl nodded. “She’s speeping, Daddy.” “Sleeping, Sage. Wait. What do you mean, she’s sleeping? Where?” They sighed as Sage wriggled out of their hold, grabbing their hand. “I’ll talk to you later, Verda.” Verda nodded. “Good luck, Detective.” Being led through the precinct, Sage took them to the meeting room door. Inside, they could hear a mellow voice, familiar and smooth, like liquid smoke. “‘I am the rightful king’, Arthur proclaimed. ’With Caliburn in hand, I shall reunite Camelot as one, and the kingdom shall once again be brought to prosperity!’ And the people rejoiced as a single ray of sunshine lit upon the boy, illuminating the golden hair of their new king like a crown gifted from the heavens themselves, and knew that they were saved.” Rory heard a book close softly, the old bindings creak shut. “And they lived happily after.” Opening the door, they watched as Adam reached out a hand to Rosemary, settling it on the thick curls on her head. Her eyes were closed, her head upon her crossed arms, and her chest rose and fell slowly. Rosemary was deep in slumber. “The end,” Adam whispered. There was something tender and sad in his expression, a longing and heartbreak Rory ached to see. They wondered if vampires could have children. If Adam had ever wanted any, before his life would be changed forever. The idea of Adam and children gave them a funny feeling in their chest, fluttering and quick, too fleeting to be recognizable. As if hearing the very stutter of their pulse, Adam sharply glanced up, his hand jerking back to his side. His expression closed off, becoming professional as he stood. “Detective. I didn’t realize-” he stopped himself, then started again. “Your daughter wanted an audience for her storytelling, and she was having trouble getting through some of the words. So I assisted her.” Rory smiled softly. They raised a hand soothingly. “It’s okay, Adam. I’m hardly upset. It’s about time I get these little ones back to my place anyway. Z’s plane landed a few hours ago, and they should be back home from their police training.” They nodded to Rosemary’s sleeping form. “Would you like to help me? I didn’t bring the car today, the girls wanted to walk.” They watched as Adam glanced at the sleeping girl, and nodded. “I would be honored, Detective.” “Why do you call Daddy ‘Detective’?” Sage asked bluntly, staring up at the tall man. “He’s Daddy, and ‘Rory’ to everyone.” Rory rolled their eyes, nudging their daughter. “Because it’s polite, baby. He’s being respectful. It’s okay.” The little girl seemed to chew on this information for a second before shrugging, seemingly no longer interested. “Okay!” She grabbed her father’s hand. “Can we go see Z now, Daddy? I want goldfishies. Ooh! Or fruit snackies!” She wrinkled her nose as Rory reached down and tugged her ear gently. “Sagey bean, your sister is asleep. Please keep your voice down. But yes. Adam and I will be taking you two home.” They glanced at Adam, giving a half-smile. It brightened at the amused expression he returned. Gingerly, Adam walked over to Rosemary, picking up her book, and then picking up her. The little girl barely even stirred. If anything, she snuggled closer in his arms, and Rory wished they could have taken a picture of Adam’s expression. It screamed Oh god, repeating over and over. Rosemary’s cuteness tended to have that effect on people. Rory was so proud. Their daughter could conquer a kingdom. “Shall we head home?” They asked softly. Adam nodded. “Yes. Let’s go home. To your home.” He flushed slightly as he corrected himself. Sage ran off with an excited yell, and the detective and agent shared an exasperated smile before following close behind.

#twc #the wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #my writing #twc book 2 #let's see if I can test tumblr's limits with three thousand words YEET #I hope this turned out well #It took me a hot minute to finish it #but I feel good about it #also witness the cuteness power of Rory's children MUAHAAHAHA #anyway

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the-secret-life-of-bi · 6 years

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A Single Pale Rose - some thoughts

Alright, buckle up, because I just finished school and I finally have the time to write all of my thoughts and feelings about the information we got in the latest Steven Universe episode. I mean ALL of them. There may be a spoiler from some leaks in here, so consider yourself warned. Here we go:

For starters, let’s talk Rose.

So first of all, I have to say, if you have reverted to referring to Rose as Pink Diamond in every context, I think that’s very wrong. Rose is the identity she chose, and that is how she wanted to be known. If you meet someone who introduces themselves one way, and you find out years down the line that this person had transitioned from one identity to this new identity before meeting you, why on Earth would you begin referring to them as the old identity’s name? That seems wrong to me, especially on a show that is so overtly LGBTQ+ friendly. I’m not saying that the complexities of the situation aren’t problematic, just don’t dead-name Rose when referring to her in situations where she was, in fact, Rose. That makes you a jerk, imo. I do occasionally find that referring to her pre-shattering as PD is sometimes necessary for clarity reasons, but as fans of such a progressive show, we must be respectful of the way we treat other people’s identities.

This leads the way to my next point pretty clearly. Everyone is dumbfounded how PD could have kept up her her Rose Quartz form for so long. Some have speculated that it’s because she is a Diamond and therefore strong enough, but I think it’s simpler than that. We all know that keeping a fusion together can be taxing, especially when it’s not stable, but Garnet exists almost exclusively as a fusion with very little difficulty (accept during the most trying of times). What if it’s the same for shape shifting? Trying to maintain the form of something you’re not is difficult and can have serious consequences. Since Rose was her true identity, though, keeping her Rose form might have been as easy as keeping her original PD form.

From here, I want to talk about PD’s motivations to take on the identity of Rose Quartz. A lot of people say that she was selfish and merely wanted to escape her responsibilities. They feel that her tactics only prove that she is truly evil. A lot of people feel that because she was a Diamond, she was able to do what she wanted, and was not oppressed by the system they way that a Rose Quartz soldier would be. This is true, to an extent. Under the Diamond Authority, Diamonds do hold the power and are not in any way under the same subjugation as all other gems and colony planets. That being said, we need to remember that power structures like this often also negatively impact the ones who are in power. For example, the patriarchy is rather oppressive of most non-cismale identities. However, cismen also face oppression at the hands of the patriarchy: their emotions are often forcibly stunted by others when they are young, they are expected to be both physically and mentally strong in every situation, and their standards of beauty are equally as demanding as those for women. I am not claiming that men suffer more, or even as much, under the patriarchy, just that they do suffer. And as such, PD suffered under the Diamond Authority. She originally wanted a colony and to be like the other Diamonds. Once she got it and understood what it truly meant to colonize something, she realized that she didn’t want that at all. She wanted to be her own gem, she wanted to allow others the same freedom, and she wanted to allow the Earth to survive. However, under Diamond Authority expectations, she could not do this. She had to defy the Diamond Authority as much as any other gem would in order to do what she did, even if it seems like it was easier for her to do so as a Diamond. She used questionable tactics such as manipulation and deceit, but no one ever said war was honest. I’m not condoning the way she handled things or saying she needs to be forgiven. But those condemning her as evil need to consider what she tried to do. Her heart was in the right place, and as a person (well, gem) of privilege, she realized she had the ability to do something and she did it. That is commendable. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and Rose hurt a lot of people, but she did what she thought was right in the only way she knew how. That is not an evil person (or gem).

Now, onto Pearl.

Poor, sweet Pearl. This is the most heartbreaking part of this story. Where to begin?

Knowing what we know, can we truly consider Pearl her own gem? She is a Pearl after all, a servant with the predisposition of being ultimately loyal to the gem to whom she is assigned. Therefore, when Rose asked Pearl to “shatter” her, could she really have said no? Could Pearl have said no to anything that Rose asked her? I don’t know. I truly do not know, and this is where I have the biggest issue with what Rose did. It is impossible to tell whether Pearl had actual freedom in this situation, at least at this point, and so I do feel that Rose took advantage of her to an extent. Even if she had already given Pearl her freedom, it was clear that Pearl was still in love with her, so I feel that she at least took advantage of her affection, even if she didn’t take advantage of her superior position by giving her a direct Diamond order to aid the rebellion.

This begs the questions, did Rose actually care about Pearl? I think yes. Rebecca Sugar states that using “my” in front of a gem’s name is a term of endearment or respect, and in “Rose’s Scabbard,” we hear Rose refer to Pearl as “my Pearl”. I think she did care about Pearl, and she did want Pearl to be free to do as she pleased. I think that it was hard for Pearl to let go of her programming to obey Rose’s wishes though, even if she was technically free, and that muddles up all of the intentions in their relationship.

What about Garnet?

Of course, we know that Sapphire is going to struggle with this, and rightfully so. She was a high ranking gem and because of this war, she lost her status, her way of life, and her home. Ruby also lost her way of life and her home, though because she was low ranking, she wasn’t losing much there. I can’t say I blame either of them for being upset. Yes, they wouldn’t have met without the war, and ultimately the freedom they’ve both gained is better than any status they held or could have held on Homeworld. That said, I can imagine it’s confusing and hurtful that the person who told them to accept themselves appears not to have been able to accept herself, either. But in all honesty, I feel like they’ll realize that Rose wanted them to accept what they could be, which she absolutely embraced.

Ultimately, I feel that Ruby feels so lucky to know Sapphire that, even though she feels hurt and betrayed by Rose too, she would rather feel hurt and have Sapphire in her life than never have met her at all. And I think Ruby will help Sapphire to realize that too. Then they get married...?

...and Bismuth?

This will be tricky. If you’ve seen the leaks, she obviously comes back. I don’t know how they will convince her not to go on a homicidal rampage when she finds out the person she most trusted was actually the person she was hellbent on destroying, but they are obviously going to figure it out. Maybe she never really trusted Rose after she was poofed and bubbled the first time, so this won’t seem like so much of a deception? Or maybe, she’ll realize that Steven is not Rose, like everyone else has, and she will spend time with him coping with the information, and do her best to help him set things right. After all, I’m sure she realizes that this is not his fault, even if he has his mother’s gem.

Other gems?

Since the mystery of PD has been solved (at least partially), it seems like the next logical plot point to address would be corruption. And you know what that means? Jasper. Yep, Jasper. Poor gem, she was created for a Diamond that she loved, and that Diamond was also the person she hated most (similar to Bismuth’s predicament, but I think its worse because she was created to do what she did instead of choosing it for herself like Bismuth). Not only will she have to cope with healing from corruption, but she’ll also have to deal with all of those conflicting emotions. I have no clear ideas on how that will go at this time, but I do know I’m very interested in a redemption arc for her now more than ever, and I was always a big proponent. This plot twist makes her 100% an empathetic character, and she deserves a chance to stop hating herself for how and why she was created.

The Diamonds - how will they react when they find out? Relief, confusion, sadness, anger, forgiveness? A combination? Again, the leaks seem to indicate that they don’t destroy the Crystal Gems, and that they reach an understanding, but HOW??!!?! How will Steven prove that his mom was, and he is, technically PD? And what about White Diamond? Will we meet her this season, as a result of this revelation? Will the Diamonds help heal the corruption? That seems to make logical sense to me, but again, there’s too much left up to speculation at this point for me to even know where to start forming theories on this one. I guess we will just have to wait an see.

I don’t really know what to say about Amethyst. She’s kind of a wild card in this situation. I have no idea how she’ll react, but I have this hunch that she’ll be very concerned about Steven and how he’s handling it. She had no stake in the war, and she’s really only ever reaped the benefits of Rose’s choices by always being a free gem. She’ll have some issues with being lied to, sure, but those lies never hurt her or her way of life, really. They’ve been more of a benefit than anything. However, she’ll see how it is affecting her friends, and she’ll see how much more weight was just added to Steven’s shoulders, and I think she’s really going to step up and be there to help everyone sort through the troubles they are facing. She’s grown up a lot in the past couple of seasons, and I expect to see that play an important part in this story arc.

Finally, Steven.

Of all the people Rose’s lies hurt, Steven is hurt the most. He already struggles with his identity and with his mother’s wrongdoings, so let’s just throw all that painfully confusing shit into one pot and stir it up, shall we? I think this revelation is a relief in some ways, that his mother did not go against her morals and shatter anyone. But it’s almost worse (read, definitely worse) that she effectively started a whole war from both sides at once, so that all of the shatterings that ensued were technically her fault. And even when she tried to stop it, she only made matters worse by prompting the corruption attack, whether she originally knew it was a possibility or not. I’ll say again, the road to hell is paved with good intentions, and I think Steven is learning that the hard way through this revelation. He’s coming to the very real realization that our parents are not always the heroes we paint them to be, even when they are literally war heroes of a sentient space rock species. He’s already grown so much, but I think this revelation will be pivotal in furthering his personal growth. I’m really excited to see how he makes amends for all of this, because we know he will, and I’m already proud of him for how he is going to do the right thing in this situation and try to help the people his mother hurt with her decisions.

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Well, there you have it, my mad ravings. I mostly just needed to get those ideas of my chest, but feel free to reach out if you want to add something, have a question, or want to chat about it!

#steven universe #su #a single pale rose #pink diamond #su pearl #su garnet #su amethyst #rose quartz #diamond authority #su jasper

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eatin-all-the-worlds · 6 years

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CAN WE TALK ABOUT PEARL (Spoiler warning!)

Can we please talk about Pearl and how significant it is that she has the most singing lines in the extended theme song, especially after “A Single Pale Rose”?

So, here’s my thing. ASPR implies so much, but what I’m most interested in is the relationship between Rose/PD and Pearl. Yes, as suggested by the gif above, Pearl’s always hinted at Rose being “more” than Rose. Rose’s sheer abilities compared to other Quartz soldiers were a huge tip-off, thinking back on it. Rebecca Sugar did a fab job putting millions of tiny hints that Rose was always a little more than just a Quartz soldier who decided to screw the rules.

But, ignoring all that, let’s talk about Pearl (like we totally haven’t been since this dang episode came out).

So, besides the implications of how healthy Pearl and Rose’s relationship was, because of Rose’s ability to command Pearl to do things--because, despite her many mistakes, I don’t think Rose ever intentionally abused that ability--it really seems to me like Rose and Pearl are in love when they concoct this plan.

Rose as Pink Diamond is multi-faceted (hah, get it??). Steven sees her as a spoiled brat wanting her own colony in Jungle Moon; he sees her make excuses about colonizing earth in Can’t Go Back; and he sees her eventually create the plan that would lead to her new life as Rose, but would also cost the lives of thousands of gem soldiers in A Single Pale Rose. Obviously, looking back, we can figure out that by Can’t Go Back’s timeline, PD had seen the worth of human beings and used her Rose Quartz persona to attempt to dissuade the Diamonds from colonizing earth.

So, I just wanna refute all these arguments that PD was selfish and was trying to hide everything and escape responsibility. Pink Diamond was a young, spoiled, initially selfish brat who wanted to be as important as the other Diamonds. She went to earth, saw their beauty and their worth, and decided to try to save it. PD attempted to save the earth through subtle means, initially; she figured the Diamonds did not care about her because of the way they treated her (see Jungle Moon), so they wouldn’t care if a colony of hers failed.

Like a lot of teenagers, Pink Diamond was very self-involved and didn’t realize how her actions would affect the people around her. That’s a little bit cowardice or deliberate selfishness; but that’s primarily the folly of youth.

So, when she sees these plans aren’t working, that the Diamonds will insist on PD succeeding in colonizing earth, she figures her death will make the Diamonds lose interest. Again, thinking like the self-involved teen she seems to be, she’s assuming that the only reason the Diamonds care is likely because, as long as PD is alive, they have a stake in the earth colony. A lot of teens think their parents wouldn’t care if they disappear.

Now, for the point of this: Pearl is PD’s pearl. Pearl is PD’s confidant and knows everything that PD has been trying to do to liberate this planet. At one point, Pearl told Connie and Steven that Rose made her feel like she was everything.

Because Pearl wasn’t some renegade pearl who pulled a Kaiba, flipped everyone off, and walked off the job. Pink Diamond, her master, encouraged Pearl to be different than what she was used to; she inspired Pearl to be a renegade, to learn to fight, to think and speak eloquently, to everything. Everything that Pearl is now stems from the freedom Pink Diamond gave to Pearl. Everything Pearl believes in comes from Pink Diamond’s beliefs.

And after Rose’s, er...death?...Pearl has struggled to find herself in a world where no one is around to tell her to be someone. She made this mistake with Connie and Steven, where she defined herself as a loyal knight to Rose Quartz (a title that Rose apparently gave to Pearl). She struggled again when she tricked Garnet to fuse with her, and told Garnet that she’s just a pearl and she needs someone to tell her what to do--which hinted both at a pearl’s function in homeworld and at the fact that, even as a renegade, Pearl needed Rose to tell her to be a renegade.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TgseUOceeok (Pearl and Garnet make up)

youtube

And it’s a fear that follows Pearl, because she feels incomplete without a master telling her what to do. It’s something that’s always been hinted in Pearl’s character, as far as Rose’s Scabbard.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dknVBPvQAc (”I think you’re pretty great”)

youtube

But since that episode (and possibly before), we see the common motif of Pearl covering her mouth whenever it seems like there’s a secret about Rose that Steven has uncovered. Now, obviously, we know that a Diamond’s command to her Pearl is final, and PD’s last command to Pearl has forced her to remain silent for millennia. The clip above, where Pearl is devastated after finding out she didn’t know all of Rose’s secrets, ends on a really interesting note; while Steven is happy and thinks he’s understanding his mother and Pearl more, Pearl’s face is not content at the end. Even with all her smiling while she told old war stories, and with her maybe feeling some catharsis after talking to Steven, there’s this haunted look on Pearl’s face that always bothered me and didn’t make sense until ASPR.

Because that’s the point that Pearl realizes that as much as she loved and devoted herself to Rose’s cause, Rose didn’t love her back and Rose wasn’t perfect.

Don’t get me wrong; I do not doubt that, at the time, Rose loved Pearl. When they were making plans to rebel and when Rose encouraged Pearl to change and grow the way Rose wanted to (because its heavily implied that Rose is fascinated by and wanted to emulate human growth), I do not doubt that Rose loved Pearl very much. But, Rose/PD at this time was young and foolish. She didn’t realize that her love for Pearl wasn’t healthy, because she didn’t realize how dependent on Rose’s approval Pearl was.

And maybe she did, later on. The gems have proven that although they do not change physically, their characters can change drastically.

In the years between the rebellion--and, we see Pearl’s perspective most, but I don’t doubt that Rose was just as devastated--and Rose falling in love with Greg, Rose probably did a lot of growing up too.

And some might argue that she didn’t grow up enough, because she gave birth to Steven without giving him any way to know the dangers he might encounter because of her actions. But...that’s the point? As much as Rose may have grown, she didn’t really grow emotionally by leaps and bounds until she interacted with Greg. The gems were mostly stagnant and stayed to themselves. Even the other men Rose would occasionally hook up with would leave--which is why Pearl never saw them as a threat.

But really, what kills my heart here is that as eloquent as Rose seemed to be, she always failed to communicate when it mattered most.

She never talked to the Diamonds honestly.

She never talked about Bismuth.

She never talked about her past.

She never talked to Pearl.

Like I said, I don’t doubt that PD thought she loved Pearl, but when that love became affection, it seems as though she never thought to talk to Pearl about that. Pearl believed herself to be PD’s most prized possession and closest friend/lover. But Pearl never got the memo that PD’s feelings had changed until Greg came along and made it obvious. How much more must that have hurt Pearl, who was there for PD for everything, to lose PD like that? Because she says it wasn’t Greg in “Both of You”; it was the fact that Rose fell in love with Greg that hurt her. She loved Rose enough to let her go, but she didn’t know she wasn’t in the running anymore.

(I’m getting to the point folks, hang in there)

Pearl singing the majority of the extended theme is so interesting to me, particularly after ASPR, because nothing in there is about her and what she wants--and the only person who could possibly understand her is Steven.

Garnet wants to exist in a world where she can be her grand, gay ol’ self (well, lesbian, but the alliteration!).

Amethyst wants to protect earth because it’s her home, and it’s the only place that considers her perfect.

Pearl...she just wants what Rose wants. She wants what her Diamond wants. What else can she want when she’s weighed down with Pink’s secrets and cannot speak for herself when she really, really wants to?

The real triumph of A Single Pale Rose? It’s finally a weight that Pearl can unload from her shoulders, that will finally allow her to follow Garnet’s advice and stop living for Rose. It a weight that she knew Steven would understand, because at one point, Steven thought he needed to live up to everyone else’s expectations based on what they knew of Rose Quartz; now, Steven has realized that he’s amazing all on his own and the only expectations he needs to live up to are his own (oh man, but that’s a whole other hour long post).

Pearl’s made progress since way before ASPR (remember when she punched Peridot??), but Pearl could never get over her feelings for Rose because Pearl based her entire identity on Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond (”It’s Over, Isn’t It?”)

Remember how snobby she’d get around Greg about how much more she knew regarding Rose than Greg?

Because Rose’s confidence in Pearl was a symbol of love in Pearl’s eyes. But then, Pearl grew up and understood that Rose was complicated and imperfect; Rose may have loved Pearl, but not the way Pearl loved Rose and not in any way that Pearl needed.

And that’s why we see Pearl try so hard to say something to Steven in the episodes leading up to ASPR; that’s why Pearl is so damn clever, cleverer than even her conscious self, that she figured out a way to tell Steven without breaking her Diamond’s command.

Pearl’s figured out that she and Rose were young and made many mistakes; she figured out that Rose made a mistake in keeping Steven in the dark about her real identity; that’s why Pearl had Steven go in her pearl to find the truth.

Steven already figured out what Pearl had been steadily learning, after all, and she knew Steven was mature enough to understand.

Now Pearl’s got to find her own reason to live on earth and A Single Pale Rose was just the culmination of many things--Rose’s real identity, Pearl’s role in the whole debacle, the reason why the gems were all destroyed so viciously, etc.

And what I love most about Pearl is that, even within the confines of forced silence, Pearl found her voice. Pearl decided that the truth needed to come out one way or another, despite her Diamond’s orders.

I don’t know if they’ll create a new, expanded version of the theme song, but if they do, Pearl better up in there singing about how she’s so fucking renegade, she even disobeyed the master that set her free.

Hell yeah, you have.

Now let’s work on that Jasper redemption arc.

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aion-rsa · 4 years

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Black Lightning Season 4 Episode 5 Review: The Book of Ruin: Chapter One: Picking Up The Pieces

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This Black Lightning review contains spoilers.

Black Lightning Season 4, Episode 5

This episode of Black Lightning is impressive, and it raises the stakes in several exciting ways. The family discovers Jennifer blew up in the ionosphere but Jefferson can feel Jen’s energy so he suits up and goes up there to absorb her. The amount of power is almost too much for him, but he is able to capture her particles. They are able to store Jennifer’s essence while they use a hadron particle condenser—which Barry ran over to them, off-screen naturally— to convert her energy to matter. (“I have a friend in Central City. He’ll get it here in a flash.” is a cute line, I guess.) After several tense and uncertain hours, they reconstitute Jen’s body— they 3D print her! Except, the body that steps out of the machine belongs to actress Laura Kariuki, not China Anne McClain who originated the role.

Jennifer isn’t dead, but she is effectively reincarnated. She will have to be someone different to everyone but her closest friends and family, which creates a new dimension of character for writers to explore if they so choose. A major character death is one way to catalyze the story, but this choice by Black Lightning writers allows the show to deal with change and loss, without evoking even more pain and trauma for the characters or the audience. Jennifer has to deal with the loss of identity, and her loved ones have to adjust to their new reality, all the while having to protect Lightning, Jennifer’s vigilante alter-ego, who has been dubbed Public Enemy Number One by Chief Lopez. I look forward to seeing Laura’s take on Jennifer Pierce, and watching Jen navigate this new experience. I also can’t wait to see whether the writers fully embrace the character’s new face, and use that to Jen’s advantage amidst the Lightning slander.

Chief Lopez meanwhile is hating from outside the club, she can’t even get in. This woman does not like metas, and all of her energy since replacing Henderson seems to be spent toward their elimination or oppression, at the very least. Lopez assigns Detective Shakur to head the Meta Task Force, which he doesn’t want to do. She decides to blame the death of Lidell—a member of the 100 that Jefferson roughed up, but Lala killed— on Lightning, to further taint the public’s trust in metas and vigilantes. One might wonder why an Afro-Latina would go so hard to be somebody else’s oppressor, but she is absolutely doing the thing women do in roles traditionally held by men, where they emulate men to avoid being seen as emotional, soft, or weak. If Lopez is being centered—and I am for it if she is—I hope that writers are making conscious and deliberate choices about her characterization that give her nuance, in the same way that they seem to be doing with Detective Shakur.

“Black lightning has been gone long enough. He is and always has been the hope of Freeland.” Gambi is able to convince Jefferson to return to the game and the timing is perfect because Freeland is under so many threats. In addition to coming for metas, Lopez is going hard on the local gangs after Tobias successfully framed The 100s for the mayor’s murder. Destiny reaches out to Lala for a truce, and she sets him up with the local PD. Lala is gunned down, and killed, but he comes back to life… publicly. This is not a new power, but it is perhaps the first time his power has been on display in front of law enforcement and his rival gang. Lala is now a known meta. This adds another layer to his characterization, and makes his relationship with the city even more contentious. His gang causes active harm in the community, but they also kept food in people’s mouths during the occupation and fought back against the Markovian insurgents. The narrative that paints metas as enemies of the city are at odds with the heroics of Black Lightning and others, but Lala might make Lopez’s villainization of metas easier.

Lala behaves consistently despite a seemingly constant shift in motivation. Getting Tobias up out the paint is the one thing Lala has remained firm on though, and with the way Tobias is plotting, having Lala on Team Moby Dick—Tobias Whale, you get it?— could be useful to the good guys. Lala’s relationship to Freeland is protective and exploitative in equal measure, which makes him an interesting character to spend time with. His relationship with Black Lightning mirrors the one with Jefferson Pierce, antagonistic but reverent. After the two chop it up about Tobias, and the Mayor’s murder, he holsters his DEG and says “glad to see you back, Freeland’s been needing someone to look up too.” Black Lightning is Lala’s hero as much as he’s anyone else’s and that is a really great dynamic.

The Pierces are finally coming to resolutions with one another, which leaves room for their hostility to be turned outward. They are at their best when they are a team, and they’re going to need to be on point for whatever’s coming in The Book of Ruin.

Additional thoughts.

TC is slightly more realized this season but I still struggle with whether he’s Black Lightning’s Magical Negro. I like that he was given narrative space in this episode but he needs to have more agency and function outside of how he can help Gambi and the Pierces.

When Hassan chased down Devonte, this exchange actually made me laugh out loud.

Devonte: I can’t breathe. Shakur: That’s cause you fat, I ain’t even on you like that. Stop disrespecting the dead.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

If it’s one thing Black folks gon’ do is find a way to bring levity amidst pain.

The post Black Lightning Season 4 Episode 5 Review: The Book of Ruin: Chapter One: Picking Up The Pieces appeared first on Den of Geek.

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dipulb3 · 4 years

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This is pop culture's moment of reckoning on matters of race | Appradab

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This is pop culture's moment of reckoning on matters of race | Appradab

However by no means fairly like this.

Popular culture has at all times been fast to replicate shifting public moods. And Individuals have grappled with cultural works about race and brutality since earlier than Billie Holiday’s “Strange Fruit.”

However Black students say there’s been a way in latest weeks that Individuals’ attitudes on race and tradition are altering for actual this time — and that entertainers who ignore them achieve this at their peril.

“It’s a long-overdue reckoning,” says Karsonya Wise Whitehead, a documentary filmmaker who teaches African American Research at Loyola College Maryland. “It is a second to do a radical reshaping of how we’re seen.”

In a number of methods, it is already taking place.

There’s renewed curiosity in Black-themed artwork and leisure

Books about race have been topping the bestseller lists: This contains each fiction and nonfiction. At one level earlier this month, 15 of the top 20 bestselling books on Amazon have been about race, racism and White supremacy within the US.

Demand for titles that assist White folks perceive racism has spiked: Books corresponding to Ibram X. Kendi’s ” be an Antiracist” and Robin Diangelo’s “White Fragility: Why It is So Laborious for White Individuals to Discuss About Racism” have sometimes been out of stock.

“We have now been writing, singing and rapping about these societal ills for years,” says Whitehead, the Loyola professor. “This isn’t new. It is simply being lastly observed by the White group.”

Streaming platforms have been prominently that includes Black-themed content material: Netflix has been selling a new “Black Lives Matter” collection to prospects within the US, that includes dozens of flicks and sequence about racial injustice and the lives of Black Individuals. Amongst them are Ava DuVernay’s documentary “13th,” about racism within the prison justice system, and Spike Lee’s new drama “Da 5 Bloods,” about Black troopers returning to Vietnam to seek out the stays of their fallen squad chief.

Curiosity in these and different Black-themed content material has spiked. Demand for the Netflix sequence “Pricey White Individuals” has surged greater than 446% over the previous 30 days, according to Parrot Analytics, which measures the recognition of TV programming. “When They See Us,” DuVernay’s 2019 miniseries concerning the wrongly convicted Central Park 5, additionally acquired a large bump.

“New audiences look like turning to those tales as a type of schooling and understanding of the Black expertise in America,” says Ashley Alleyne-Morris an insights director at Parrot Analytics.

Audiences are turning to podcasts about race: On the earth of podcasts, Apple’s charts present audiences are gravitating towards the New York Occasions’ “1619,” concerning the historical past of slavery in America, and NPR’s Code Change, which options journalists of coloration speaking about race.

Audiences looking for to channel their anger over police brutality and different points raised by the George Floyd protests are looking for out non-Black content material as nicely. Streams of music by rock band Rage Towards the Machine, identified for his or her revolutionary political beliefs, have surged over the previous month.

It is tempting to counsel that the newfound recognition of all this woke content material will result in significant social change. However Vincent Stephens, director of the Popel Shaw Heart for Race & Ethnicity at Dickinson Faculty, urges warning.

“We should be cautious to not mistake gross sales for social reform,” he says. “Translating the data and content material from books and digital media into on a regular basis antiracist practices is the one significant method for this renewed consideration to affect society.”

Persons are reappraising racist or inappropriate cultural content material

Hollywood has had an uneasy relationship with race relationship again to “The Start of a Nation,” the landmark 1915 silent movie that glorified the Ku Klux Klan.

Problematic content material is being pulled: “Gone With the Wind,” one of the crucial standard motion pictures ever made, has lengthy been criticized for its legendary depictions of slavery however remained a TV staple till this month, when HBO Max pulled the 1939 film from its slate of choices.

On Wednesday the streaming service — owned by WarnerMedia, Appradab’s dad or mum firm — brought back the movie however with two extra movies that debate its historic context.

Disney has taken an identical strategy to the unique animated “Dumbo,” which incorporates a character named Jim Crow, voiced by a Caucasian actor utilizing a stereotypical African-American accent. On the Disney+ streaming service, “Dumbo” is presented with a disclaimer saying the film “could comprise outdated cultural depictions.”

Kevin Willmott, a professor of movie and media research on the College of Kansas who received an Oscar for co-writing “BlacKkKlansman” with Spike Lee, says movies like “Gone With the Wind” ought to include warning labels that place them in historic context and educate viewers about racism.

“The extra you realize about our racist historical past, the extra you perceive what is going on on now,” he says. “We’re on this popular culture second proper now. America is struggling about what sort of nation it needs to be.”

However Wes Jackson, an educator at Emerson Faculty and co-founder of the Brooklyn Hip-Hop Competition, has no persistence for dated cultural works with racist caricatures.

“Get ‘Dumbo’ off Disney Plus. I do not wish to see any extra ‘Little Rascals,’” he says. “A teachable second? You have been in a position to educate this second for 500 years, and you have not,” he says. “So I would like it gone. It is insulting to me.”

Stars are apologizing for their past use of blackface: This week Tina Fey, creator and star of the Emmy-winning sequence “30 Rock,” asked streaming services to remove four of the show’s episodes that function White actors in blackface. Fey apologized for the episodes and the “ache they’ve precipitated.”

Discuss present host Jimmy Kimmel and radio persona Howard Stern have additionally not too long ago addressed carrying blackface throughout previous TV sketches.

Persons are viewing long-established acts and exhibits by way of a brand new lens: Actuality exhibits about cops, together with “Live PD” and “Cops,” have been canceled over criticisms that they glorified police violence.

Whitehead, the Loyola professor, says she’s been revisiting exhibits like “Seinfeld” and “Mates,” which featured no main characters of coloration, with extra essential eyes.

“You take a look at this and assume, ‘The place are the Black characters on this present?’” she says. “How has this been OK?”

This revisionist considering has even prolonged to the names of musical acts. Nation music trios Woman Antebellum and the Dixie Chicks each modified their names this month.

Sure, issues are altering. However will it final?

That relies on who you ask. However cultural observers are cautiously optimistic.

Requested why popular culture appears to be changing into extra racially enlightened in latest weeks, Wes Jackson has a easy reply: cash.

The Emerson Faculty professor says enterprise executives regarded on the sheer breadth and variety of the George Floyd protesters and realized there was cash to be made.

“Somebody pulled out a spreadsheet and mentioned, ‘We higher get on the opposite facet of this,’” he says.

As educators, Jackson and Willmott, the Kansas professor, each say they’ve one more reason to be hopeful: their White college students, who respect Black tradition and do not tolerate racism of their leisure.

“These are White youngsters coming in right here, progressive and engaged,” Jackson says. “These are individuals who grew up on Obama and Beyoncé and Jay-Z. They’re like, ‘Yeah, in fact Black lives matter — when did they not?’”

Some students say they sense a seismic cultural shift concerning pop-culture portrayals of individuals of coloration. However others warning it is too quickly to say whether or not that is greater than only a fleeting second of media wokeness.

“We have now to be very cautious about saying that one second clearly represents a completely new shift in media,” says Rebecca Wanzo, an affiliate professor at Washington College in St. Louis who research African-American literature and tradition.

Wanzo sees the current second as only one in a sequence of historic moments by which activism has spurred folks to look at African-American artwork and literature that addresses oppression.

“There has by no means been a second, nor can I think about there’ll ever be … when everybody within the nation ‘wakes up’ to racism,” she provides. “The warfare towards antiblackness has lasted for hundreds of years, and it’s a sluggish chipping away.”

“The motion is doubtlessly thrilling, however the jury continues to be out on substantive change,” says Bridgette Baldwin, a professor of legislation at Western New England College who has studied the intersection of race and social justice. “A few of the change is being fueled by model administration within the want to look political but stay secure,” she provides.

“Proper now, cultural critics and Black figures are en vogue. Everybody needs to get the Black perspective and carry a ‘Black Lives Matter’ signal. However we’ll see if persons are nonetheless listening when the buildings cease burning.”

Some observers say that actual, lasting change when it comes to race and illustration in popular culture will solely occur when the leisure trade hires extra folks of coloration as writers, producers, administrators and showrunners.

As if to drive residence that time, greater than 300 Black actors, artists and executives, together with Issa Rae, Michael B. Jordan and Viola Davis, signed an open letter Tuesday urging Hollywood to “show Black Lives Matter” by now not telling tales that glorify police brutality and by investing in anti-racist content material and the careers of Black inventive figures.

“Resulting from Hollywood’s immense affect over politics and tradition, all the racism, discrimination and glass ceilings Black folks in Hollywood expertise regularly have direct implications on Black lives in every single place,” it says.

“…this offers us much less management over our narratives (and) continues the legacy of white supremacy’s affect over our tales.”

The reckoning is right here.

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mysticandskepticmuses · 5 years

Photo

Below you will find the verse summaries / write-ups for my characters in a modern verse, political based, tying in with the political verse of @magicandsciencemuses and Liz’s muses there. The adaptations are primarily written / made for writing with Liz but if there is anyone that would like to write w/ these adapted modern versions of any characters I’m open to discussions about it. It would be separate from the world build with Liz unless all parties were okay with it affecting the private group plot as a whole. These are all ending up paragraphs or so, so I’m dropping it beneath the cut. Currently a WIP. Subject to change as I work things out w/ Liz etc.

Alice Mortania. True to form, Alice is a small time grifter, occasional sex worker and tends to roam and travel a lot to wherever she can make a quick buck and stay clear of whatever trouble is at her heels. However, she’s currently forcing herself to stick around Washington, despite all of her instincts that say run, after one of her close friends and fellow sex worker was found murdered; all signs point to someone in the current running campaign and Alice is determined to do whatever it takes to find out who was responsible for her friend’s death and make them pay, one way or another. Ties in to: Elias Ryker, detective who is investigating her friend’s murder; William Conway, the front runner in the competition ( possible suspect ); Rupert Giles, current elect ( possible suspect ).

Amanda Waller. Having devoted the majority of her life to public service, Waller has set her eyes on a position on the Presidential Cabinet, Secretary of the Department of Defense and she will do whatever it takes to get it - in turn, she’s happy to do whatever it takes to get the candidate elected that will back her and ensure her this position once they have been sworn in. She has no qualms using violence, blackmail, leverage of any kind to get what she needs. She’s served as head of a highly classified counterintelligence division for the last twelve years, served in civil service for a decade before that and has racked up a number of favors owed over the years – as well as a whole lot of buried secrets that she wants to keep that way. Ties in to: to be determined. ( Conway or Giles most likely. )

Belle Duponte. Belle struggles to find ways to support herself and her father: once a renowned scientist, her father now suffers from depression and has drowned himself (and in turn her) with debt from loans, both personal and small business loans, and he has now turned to gambling and incurring debts from various loan sharks in the DC area, leaving her to bear the brunt of trying to keep him above water and in one piece, physically and mentally. She finds herself trapped in a position by one of the more dangerous of the people her father owes and has been leveraged into finding a way into the good graces (by any means necessary) of one of the men vying for President. She currently volunteers in his campaign office and is feeding small tidbits back to her handler, and is being pressured to get up close and personal, sooner rather than later. [ aka honeypot. ] Ties in to: ( Giles or Conway. tbd. )

Carl Hickman. Once a decorated NYPD detective with one of the highest solve percentages in the history of the PD, Hickman was forced out of the department after an injury on the job made him incapable of handling a firearm etc. and for several years, due to the sour nature of his departure, his personal vendetta, issues with trauma and a developing morphine addiction due to the nature of his injury, Hickman vanished from the public eye. In recent months, however, he has been seen back in the states, working as a security and protection detail consultant for a Presidential candidate. Ties into: to be determined. Claire Dearing ( campaign manager for the candidate he works for. )

Jemma Barnes. ( short version: decorated member of the military, long family history of military service above and beyond, currently serving as a member of the secret service / travels with giles. )

June Moone. ( short version: daughter of the current ambassador for the us. )

Kristin Ortega. A member of the DCPD, Kristin is a homicide detective, following in the footsteps of her father. Currently a partner of Elias Ryker, she is more than a little busy balancing a heavy case load and what passes for a personal life; between concern for her partner’s well being as he delves into a homicide with ties to the current political debates, she’s also struggling with trying to come to a decision in terms of her faith which is causing strife with her mother and family. Her increasing frustrations with the corruption in the police department itself is causing a rift between herself and other officers, including her captain whom she suspects is on the take and in the pocket of one of the presidential candidates and as a whole, her life feels like it’s teetering on the edge of imminent disaster. Ties in to: Elias Ryker.

Laurel Isley. Daughter of one of the blue blood high society political families of Washington, Laurel is manipulative, deadly and sweet as sugar on the surface. She’s walked the walk, she talks the talk: from a young age she showed remarkable intellectual acuity, seemed to play well with others, a natural leader; heavily involved in extracurricular activities, volunteered with outreach programs in high school and onward, organizes fundraisers through her family and schools, attended and graduated summa cum laude at her Ivy League university a year early. Currently works as an administrative assistant to [ insert political job here ] and volunteers after work hours and weekends for one of the presidential candidates. TIes in to: Claire Dearing, Saori Leons, Carl Hickman.

Rori Dearing. ( short version, political activist, has been branded an ‘eco-terrorist’, alternates between flying under the radar and making a nuisance of herself; involved w/ william conway. )

Saori Leons. Saori is the daughter of a war hero, Colonel Edward Franklin Dearing, a decorated three-star general who has served for the majority of his life before finally retiring three years ago. Her family is a blue blood political elite from Georgia and Saori is running for office against William Conway and Rupert Giles. She is running as an independent. Saori is also the twin of Rori Dearing; has not denied her familial ties but does what she can to assure the general populace etc. that while she loves and supports her sister, she does not support Rori’s illegal activities and actively discourages any violence or illegal actions of any kind, no matter the cause or end goal. Ties in to: Rori Dearing, (Claire Dearing as sibling?), William Conway, Rupert Giles.

Shelly Webster. A victim of sexual assault and violence; Her fiancee was killed the night before their wedding and she was raped and severely beaten and left for dead. She has become an advocate and a voice for victims of violence and assault. She runs an outreach program and shelter for runaway teens and has been a very vocal advocate of finding the truth of what happened to the latest victim (the one Elias is investigating) of violence in the city, especially with the rumors that it is being covered up by a current political candidate. Ties in to: Elias Ryker.

Trinity. While her real identity is unknown even to the agencies that have been investigating her for years now, Trinity is a hacker who focuses on revealing the dirty little secrets that the government wants to keep hidden: back door deals, bribes, policy changes that are slid in under the radar, misdeeds done by those in office or running for office, military incursions on foreign soil, acts of domestic of foreign terrorism, assassinations and or coups funded by the United States or given support by the US government and military forces. Anything and everything in an attempt to ensure actual transparency. Ties in to: Root.

#VERSE.#TO BE EDITED.#DO NOT REBLOG.

0 notes

lesbianbeiovaz · 7 years

Text

Parallel: From Another World 10/33

Chapters: 10/33 Fandom: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tenth Doctor / OC Characters: Tenth Doctor, Rose Tyler, Rita Stone (OC) Additional Tags: Friendship, Major Original Character(s), Season/Series 02 Summary:

Rita Stone lives in our world. The world where a big blue box bigger on the inside is simply impossible. However, this all changes after what is most definitely an impossible event. Then again nothing is impossible with the Doctor.

Follow Rita through time and space, learning about herself while struggling to comprehend her new life travelling with the Doctor and his companions. Doctor x OC

*I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters. All original ownership goes to the BBC.

A03 | FF.NET

"Good morning, class. Are we sitting comfortably?" the Doctor grinned while Rita groaned at the cringe of what he just said. He gave a playful glare at her after noticing the expression on her face and her body shivered, he then turned to the board proceeding to grab a pen and write large letters onto the white board.

'Why did I agree to this?' she thought. 'I could be in the kitchen with Rose, instead, I'm stuck in a classroom... again.' Rita quietly groaned.

The Doctor turned back around to the class of kids that did not look like they were enjoying the class at all. 'Honestly, I feel for you kids' Rita thought. I'm stuck pretending to be his teaching assistant. Great now I'm talking to myself it's year ten of school all over again.' She sighed

"So, physics. Physics, eh?" The Doctor began, pacing around the front of the desk then stopped next to Rita. "Physics. Physics. Physics!" he grinned at her then continued to ramble. "Physics. Physics, physics, physics, physics, physics, physics, physics." He then stopped. "I hope one of you is getting all this down."

"I'm most definitely not" Rita mumbled rolling her eyes the Doctor just continued grinning at her.

'So he's enjoying this? Time Lord don't make me shave your hair off in your sleep, oh how Rose would kill me if I did that.' She chuckled at bit knowing that the blonde loved the Doctors hair even though she didn't know Rita knew that.

"Okay let's see what you know." the Doctor spoke snapping Rita back into reality. "Two identical strips of nylon are charged with static electricity and hung from a string so they can swing freely. What would happen if they were brought near each other?" he asked the class which were clearly bored, silent and not moving much like zombies who just couldn't move. Apart from one boy who's arm flew into the air. Rita grinned moving her head up in his direction.

"Yes, er, what's your name?" the Doctor asked the boy who looked pretty nerdy with thick glasses, not that Rita was judging or anything but he did look stereotypically like a young nerd that was constantly bullied.

"Milo." he replied placing his arm back on the table.

"Milo! Off you go." the Doctor smiled glad someone was paying attention.

"They'd repel each other because they have the same charge," Milo answered getting the question correct.

"Correctamundo!"

Rita scrunched up her nose. The Doctor noticed then added: "A word I have never used before and hopefully never will again."

"I agree never, ever say that word again."

"If you wish" he grinned then continued to question the class "Question two. I coil up a thin piece of microwire and place it in a glass of water." he emphasised the word water making Rita chuckle. "Then I turn on the electricity and measure to see if the water's temperature is affected. My question is this. How do I measure the electrical power going into the coil?"

The young boy's hand shot up again, not even Rita knew the answer to that and she got an A+ in GCSE physics not that she liked to boast about it. The Doctor looked around at the bored zombie-like students.

"Someone else." He looked around the silent room and then pursed his lips "No? Okay, Milo, go for it." he nodded to the boy.

"Measure the current and PDs in an ammeter and a voltmeter."

"Two to Milo." The Doctor looked around the class once again. No one was paying any attention, he looked over to Rita who frowned at the class.

She never understood why the rest of the students apart from Milo were actually silent and extremely bored it was never mentioned in the 'episode' to her memory.

The Doctor placed his hand next to his mouth so the class could not see what he was saying and then mouthed over to her. 'Anything?' the brunette shrugged then mouthed back 'I don't know this sorry, try asking some more questions' she shrugged not being much help yet giving him a secret without making it too obvious. She generally had no idea with as to what was wrong with all the students, she knew about the chips and why they were smart but not the zombieness.

"Right then, Milo," the Doctor turned back to the boy following Rita's advice "tell me this. True or false. The greater the dampening of the system, the quicker it loses energy to its surroundings."

"False."

"What is non-coding DNA?" the Doctor countered.

"DNA that doesn't code for a protein." he fired back. Rita moved her eyes from the Doctor to the boy as if she was watching a tennis match.

"Sixty-five thousand nine hundred and eighty-three times five?"

"Three hundred and twenty-nine thousand nine hundred and fifteen," he said automatically without thinking. The Doctor frowned.

"How do you travel faster than light?"

"By opening a quantum tunnel with an FTL factor of thirty-six point seven recurring." the Doctor blinked, his jaw dropped and he watched the boy then turned to Rita her expression mimicking his.

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

The Doctor and Rita were standing in the line of the canteen for lunch, an hour or so after the event with Milo. The canteen was silent to Rita and the Doctor's amazement.

Rita never expected it to actually be so quiet in the hall except for the sound of feet moving on the floor. They collected their food the Doctor grinning at Rose dressed as a dinner lady who looked extremely pissed. Rita sent the blonde a warm smile as she collected her food and followed the Doctor to a table.

"How was that possible?" Rita whispered sitting down next to the Doctor, feeling the silents a little unnerving. She pushed her plate aside not wanting to touch the krillitane oiled chips.

"You have the foreknowledge" he smirked pointing it out and raising a brow.

"Trying to get you thinking, you can be a little thick at times" she chuckled leaning back on her chair and crossing her arms.

"Oh really?" He raised a brow again.

"Really" Rita nodded. "So what do you think it is?" She stopped leaning on her chair and leant forward resting her elbow on the table holding her head up.

"Well something is definitely odd here"

"No kidding" Rita chuckled again. "Seriously, though. Ideas?"

"Why don't we ask the dinner lady?" he smirked noticing Rose heading their way.

"Two days," Rose spoke through gritted her teeth once she reached the table.

"Sorry, could you just?" the Doctor pointed to part of the table with a fork in his hand. "There's a bit of gravy." Rose sighed rolling her eyes and started to wipe where he supposedly pointed. "No, no, just, just there." he pointed a little to the left. Rita grinned shaking her head and hitting his arm a little.

"Two days, we've been here." Rose continued.

"Blame your boyfriend." The Doctor argued making an odd face at Rita when he swallowed a chip.

'Now you're noticing it.'

"He's the one who put us onto this. And he was right." He turned to Rita who nodded in agreement. "Boy in class this morning, got knowledge way beyond planet Earth."

"You eating those chips?" Rose asked changing the subject.

"Nope" Rita answered.

"Yeah, they're a bit different." he frowned at Rita.

"Yeah, I tried one" Rita lied not wanting to touch the chips at all, she knew they were harmless except for gaining some knowledge but still didn't want them. "Didn't like them at all"

"I think they're gorgeous." Rose stole a few of the Doctors chips. Rita chuckled and pushed her plate to the other side of the table, allowing her to take her own since she wasn't going to be eating them anytime soon. Rose grinned and sat down opposite Rita. "Wish I had school dinners like this." She said with a mouth stuffed full of chips.

"It's very well behaved, this place." The Doctor looked around the room at the quiet students.

"I was just thinking that" Rita agreed.

"Mmm." Rose hummed unable to speak through her mouth filled up to the brim with chips.

"I thought there'd be happy-slapping hoodies. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBOs. Happy slapping hoodies with ASBOs and ringtones. Huh? Huh?" Rita shook her head disapprovingly. "Oh, yeah. Don't tell me I don't fit in."

"You don't fit in," Rita smirked at the Doctor who just smirked back at the brunette who then shook her head after a few seconds and looked behind Rose's head to see a rather angry dinner lady walking up to them. "Heads up" she mumbled. Rose pushed the plate back to her and short daggers at the pair who bite their lips holding in a grin.

"You are not permitted to leave your station during a sitting."

"I was just talking to this teacher and teaching assistant." Rita groaned a little, in her opinion 'companion' was bad enough but assistant. No thank you.

"Hello." the Doctor smiled up at the dinner lady not looking the slightest bit amused.

"He doesn't like the chips." Rose mocked.

"The menu has been specifically designed by the headmaster to improve concentration and performance." The dinner lady said slightly angry.

'No it's just the oil' Rita thought smiling to herself.

The dinner lady then directed her attention to Rose "Now, get back to work."

"See? This is me. Dinner lady." Rose spun around walking back towards the kitchen.

"I'll have the crumble." The Doctor joked.

"Make that two" Rita joined in raising a finger in the air.

"I'm so going to kill you two." she sighed walking off.

Rita noticed out the corner of her eye that one of the maths teachers which she knew to be a krillitane had walked up to one of the tables seating a few students, she lightly hit the Doctors arm trying not to make it not too obvious for Mr Finch who Rita know fully well was watching the canteen from above. Rita got his attention just as the maths teacher began to talk.

"Melissa. You'll be joining my class for the next period. Milo's failed me," Rita looked over to the Doctor who frowned continuing to watch the teacher. "So it's time we moved you up to the top class." he turned to the boy Rita remembered as Kenny, the boy who helped save the world. "Kenny, not eating the chips?"

"I'm not allowed." he answered placing an empty packet of crisps in his sandwich box.

"Luke. Extra class. Now." The teacher walked off out of the canteen.

"That was odd" the Doctor stated, turning away from the dinner table to Rita.

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

After lunch, the Doctor and Rita headed to the staff room to do some exploring and 'investigating' before the next lesson began. The staff room held a few teachers sitting at a table chatting and a few standing around the room. The pair were talking to a teacher about how surprisingly clever the students were.

"Yesterday, I had a twelve-year-old girl give me the exact height of the Walls of Troy in cubits." he explained to them both.

"And, it's ever since the new headmaster arrived?"

"Finch arrived three months ago." he told the Doctor "Next day, half the staff got flu. Finch replaced them with that lot," he gestured over to some teachers at the other side of the staff room. Rita shivered a little then turned back trying not to draw attention to herself. "Except for the teacher you replaced," the teacher nodded to the Doctor "and that was just plain weird, her winning the lottery like that."

"How's that weird?" the Doctor asked.

"She never played. Said the ticket was posted through her door at midnight, and her teacher assistant was sacked except she did nothing wrong worked her for 5 years with no warnings or anything then she just goes."

"Hmm. The world is very strange."

"Sometimes I wonder if it's a little too strange" Rita chipped in. The door behind them then opened revealing the headmaster with a woman Rita knew from the 'show' as Sarah Jane Smith, Rita couldn't help but smile at the woman she noticed that the Doctor was also beaming away.

"Excuse me, colleagues." Mr Finch spoke up attracting everyone's attention his way. "A moment of your time. May I introduce Miss Sarah Jane Smith." He gestured to Sarah Jane. "Miss Smith is a journalist who's writing a profile about me for the Sunday Times. I thought it might be useful for her to get a view from the trenches, so to speak. Don't spare my blushes." The headmaster then left.

'Actually, she's investigating you lot.'

Sarah Jane walked towards the Doctor and Rita after Finch exited the staff room. "Hello." she smiled.

"Oh, I should think so." the Doctor tried to contain his smiled which wasn't working so well.

"Lovely to meet you" Rita smiled shaking Sarah Janes hand.

"And, you are?" Sarah Jane smiled.

"Rita Stone" the brunette answered.

"Hm? Er, Smith. John Smith." Rita rolled her eyes making sure Sarah Jane didn't notice.

'Someone has a crush' Rita jokingly thought to herself.

"John Smith." Sarah Jane thought for a moment. "I used to have a friend who sometimes went by that name."

"Well, it's a very common name."

Sarah countered: "He was a very uncommon man, I also knew someone who went by "Rita Stone sometimes." She smiled a little, Rita frowned slightly but shrugged it off as a coincidence. "Nice to meet you both."

"Nice to meet you." The Doctors grin grew. "Yes, very nice. More than nice. Brilliant."

Sarah Jane looked a little concerningly at the way he was looking at her. "Er, so, er, have you both worked here long?" She asked Rita and The Doctor.

"No. Er, it's only my second day." The Doctor replied.

"Same for me" Rita added crossing her arms.

"Oh, you're new, then. So, what do you think of the school? I mean, this new curriculum?" She asked. "So many children getting ill. Doesn't that strike you as odd?"

"Hmm" Rita nodded. "Very odd"

"You don't sound like someone just doing a profile." the Doctor pointed out grinning to himself proudly.

"Well, no harm in a little investigation while I'm here."

"No. Good for you." the Doctor mumbled. Sarah Jane then began to walk away heading towards other teachers. "Good for you. Oh, good for you, Sarah Jane Smith."

"God I'm surprised you didn't scare her" Rita rolled her eyes whispering quietly so the woman wouldn't hear. "You're like the Cheshire cat with that grin is just scary." She told him he looked at her shaking his head, "like it's giving me the creeps."

The Doctor looked around then began to whisper a little. "So being on a Dalek ship doesn't creep you out but my grin does?" he raised a brow smirking.

"How do you know I wasn't scared? I didn't have foreknowledge of that Doctor, I was terrified." Rita admitted whispering as well. "Always good to be a little scared, though? Right Doctor?"

"Right" he nodded in agreement. They both left the staff room to head back to the Physics class for another long lesson before the end of the day.

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

Rose shuddered a little holding her elbows while following the Doctor into the school entrance "Oh, it's weird seeing school at night. It just feels wrong. When I was a kid, I used to think all the teachers slept in school."

"I know someone who used to think that. Told them all that there were secretly bats that lived in the roof" Rita joked making a reference to the actual 'episode'

"All right, team." The Doctor turned to Rose, Rita and Mickey "Oh, I hate people who say, team."

"You hate yourself?" Rita raised a brow. "Sorry continue"

"Er, gang. Er, comrades. Anyway," he began to instruct everyone. "Rose, Rita, go to the kitchen. Get a sample of that oil. Mickey, the new staff are all Maths teachers. Go and check out the Maths department. I'm going to look in Finch's office. Be back here in ten minutes." The Doctor then walked off leaving the three standing in the entrance.

"You going to be all right?" Rose looked at Mickey with a face

"Me?" he looked at Rose offendedly "Please. Infiltration and investigation? I'm an expert at this." he began to walk off.

"Says the one who walked off in the wrong direction," Rita said under her breath. Mickey then shortly returned looking like an idiot.

"Where's the Maths department?"

Rose pointed down the corridor in the opposite direction. "Down there, turn left, through the fire doors, on the right."

"Thank you." he then walked in the correct direction.

"Let's go and find that oil" Rita smiled at the blonde as they both began to walk down the corridor.

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

The Doctor walked down the dark school hallway heading towards the TARDIS.

"Hello, Sarah Jane." said the Doctor in a monotone voice, Sarah Jane spun around her eyes wide.

"It's you. Oh, Doctor Oh, my God," she clasped a hand over her mouth "it's you, isn't it. You've regenerated." She smiled.

"Yeah. Half a dozen times since we last met."

"You look incredible." She spoke in shock.

"So do you."

"Huh. I got old." She denied the compliment. "What are you doing here?" Sarah Jane then asked.

"Well, UFO sighting, school gets record results. I couldn't resist. What about you?" He smiled at her proudly.

"The same." she then frowned. "I thought you'd died. I waited for you and you didn't come back, and I thought you must have died."

"I lived. Everyone else died," he said sadly looking down at the ground. "Everyone but her..." Hew sighed trailing off as Sarah Janer frowned. "Well, that's a lie in itself."

"What do you mean?" a frown formed on Sarah Janes face, she was confused with what he meant.

"Everyone died, Sarah."

"I can't believe it's you," Sarah Jane said again. The pair then snapped their heads in the direction of a high-pitched female scream.

"Okay, now I can!" she chuckled the pair both ran in the direction of the scream.

#doctor who #tenth doctor #parallelone #the parallel series #ao3 #dw fanfiction #10th doctor #oc #dw series 2 #FF.net #writing

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