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#aka the display case robin
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suzukiblu · 8 months
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Fic concept! AKA another soulmate AU. Working title: "kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit".
Tim meets Superboy--Robin meets Superboy--and it goes, like . . . fine, he guesses. It's fine. They fight Metallo and Poison Ivy and don't die, though Superboy kinda looked like he wanted to when the kryptonite ring was happening to him.
Tim is a thorough little Bat-bastard, of course, so the day after all that goes down, he breaks into Cadmus. Well--breaks into their system, anyway. He figures knowing more about Superboy for the inevitable next time they meet up won't hurt, considering. Fully understanding potential allies' capabilities is--
There's photos in Superboy's file.
This would be completely irrelevant to everything, if those photos weren't specifically of Superboy's soulmark, which is so invasive and offensive that Tim feels kind of sick.
And also if that soulmark weren't the exact same one that showed up on him a few months back.
Well . . . okay, that's a . . . thing.
Tim has several sexuality crisises at once, then remembers platonic soulmates exist. But also he immediately had the sexuality crisises instead of ever thinking of platonic soulmates as being an option, which does not bode well for the "platonic"-ness of this particular soulmark.
Well, that's a whole thing now, he guesses.
Then he remembers that Poison Ivy kissed and mind-controlled Superboy. And also that Superboy, like, lives with his manager. His creepy, not very responsible, easily-blackmail-able manager. And also just . . . everything else he knows about the guy's life. Everything. All at once.
Tim has several more crisises and then calls Dick Grayson to freak out on him.
Tim: Is it ethical to kidnap your own soulmate and does that even matter if they're not legally a person and so you couldn't actually be charged for anything anyway? I mean, B can't get mad at me for doing it if the courts can't get me for doing it, right?
Dick: I'm sorry, Superboy's not legally a person?
Tim: Nope! Which neither Cadmus nor the sleazebag selling his likeness for a living has in any way tried to correct, for the record. Technically he's classified as intellectual property, but Cadmus forfeited legal possession when Superman turned up alive again, presumably to avoid Superman ever finding out that they'd had said legal possession, so technically if I went and kidnapped him it'd be more like . . . salvage, maybe? Like, in the eyes of the law, I mean.
Dick: Yeah, okay, in that case kidnapping your own soulmate might be less an ethics question and more a moral obligation.
Anyway, Nightwing-assured Tim immediately grabs his go-bag and goes to Hawaii to make his kidnapping plans. Like, he's just gonna start soft-planning something, nothing concrete yet. Obviously it's going to take a lot of work to get a cocky half-Kryptonian teenage clone with authority issues and an inflated ego kidnapped by a lone Robin, and--
Five minutes later "normal civilian" Tim Drake meets Superboy on the street after a supervillain attack and Superboy's soulmark is just on full display where his suit's ripped.
And a Bat knows when to take a perfectly-presented opportunity, obviously. He still can't actually kidnap Superboy yet, but he can tell him they're soulmates as a "civilian" and then--
Five minutes after that, Tim's on a plane back to Gotham with a perfectly agreeable and actually much more chill than he was when they were fighting supervillains together Superboy, and just does not understand his life at all.
Also maybe he should've, like . . . called Bruce about the apparently very ride-or-die Kryptonian that he's currently moving into his city? Just . . . at some point . . . ? Possibly?
Whoops.
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Shadows Entwined: Part 3
BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader
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Part 1 Part 2 / Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)
In which Leonardo and (H/N) meet again.
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A/N: Just a friendly reminder, that the Robin in Batman Vs TMNT is Damian Wayne. The son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Aka, Ra’s al Ghul’s grandson. That little dude is trained to kill.
Warnings: Spelling, talk of breaking bones, only slight research on Damian Wayne, long af today.
The reader and the turtles are 19.
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When Donnie said he had an idea, Leonardo didn’t expect to involve an underwater cave network that Gotham City somehow had been hiding. Michelangelo was right, this city was bonkers, in more was than Leo ever had imagined.
Leo, Mikey and Raph followed Donnie through the never ending cave system, before finally breaking the water surface, in a lit tunnel. Leo’s first thought was wondering if Batman and his sidekick ever made use of these tunnels. How often did she wonder about these waters, if ever? It was a strange thought and Leo knew it, but somehow, everything he had seen along the way, had reminded him of her.
“Look”, Raph spoke up, breaking the silence and thoughts running through Leo’s head. “I love being an amphibian as much as the next guy-”.
“Amphibious”, Donnie corrected. “We’re still reptiles”.
“Yeah, thanks for that, but you sure this cave leads anywhere?”
“Glad you asked! I am sure actually”, Donnie started explaining. “I made a database of every reported Batman sighting, and ran them through an algorithm that-”.
“Donnie”. Leo placed a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder. "Nobody cares. Where are you taking us?” Leo tried to sound, well, at least a little happy, even though a little bundle of something was building up inside of him. Nervousness? Anxiety? Couldn’t be. Why would he be nervous or anxious?
“The answer should be right through…” Donnie turned and continued in the direction they had been walking in, only to be met by a big opening in the caves. To say that what they discovered was shocking, would be an understatement. A big open cave with what looked like a taxidermy dinosaur, several glass display cases with Batman costumes, and a giant coin among other things.
“Ta-da!”, Donnie stated with his arms out. “The… Bat… Man… Cave… Huh?”
“This is pretty cool”, Leo admitted. Why did he feel so small all of sudden?
“Pretty cool?!” Mikey already looked like a child that had had too much sugar. “This is amazing! I don’t know what to put my grabby paws on first!”
As Mikey started running around, screaming like a child, Leo casted a glance around the cave. All he was Batman but no… her. Not her in person, nor anything that indicated you spend time here. Was it wrong that Leo had kind of hoped you’d be there? That when he and his brothers emerged from the water, you would be there, ready for another round? It was because he wanted to beat you. Or that was at least what he told himself. It wasn’t in line with how he saw himself, but he would much rather admit to wanting revenge, so he didn’t have to admit to anything else. Like how he hoped you would comment his eyes again. Not that he would admit it, but the thought of you being that close to him again, made tingles erupt in his stomach.
For a second Leo was scared that he was the one that began to chur at the thought of you, only to realize it was Donatello, who had gotten his eyes on a big computer.
“I don’t see any sign that the Shredder, nor the Foot Clan have been here”, Leo said, desperately trying to distract himself from the thought of you.
“Yeah. And I just see the signs of a dude with too much time and way too much money on his hands”, Raph said, looking skeptically at the Batman costumes.
“Most of these files are encrypted too heavily”, sounded Donnie’s voice from in front of the big computer. “But it looks to me like Batman has been tracking the laboratory break ins, like he’s been looking for the Foot’s next move! Same as us!”
“Hey guys! Check it out!” All three brothers turned, in fear of what Mikey had gotten himself into now. They found Mikey, sitting on top of the taxidermy t-rex, dressed in a Batman cape. “I’m Batman! And I’m riding a t-rex! I’ve never been so happy in my entire life!”
Leo’s first thought was to look around, slightly in fear of what you would think, if you found his little brother like that. “Mikey! Get down!”
“Nah man, I live up here now!”
“You should listen to him”.
Mikey turned to look at the source of this new voice, only to be met by a figure in the shadows right behind him. It was a boy. Not a very old one. Dressed in red, black, yellow and green, his eyes had a look that could kill. Yet Mikey didn’t find the child threatening in any way. Instead he turned his head to the side and let out an audible, “aww!”
The young boy sprung at Mikey, causing the two of them to fall off the t-rex and land on the ground, with Mikey’s back against the stone. Mikey held the boy above him, trying his best to hold his small hands away from his face.
“Take that mask off! Now!”, the boy yelled through gritted teeth, while Mikey was struggling to keep the mask on.
“Help!”, Mikey yelled out. “A tiny dude is like, totally trying to kill me!”
All brothers rushed to help Mikey, as the young boy pulled the mask and cap off of Mikey before jumping back, greeting distance between the two. Leo cursed himself, as his first thoughts were; did you know this kid? Did he know you?
“What are you, like five?”, Donnie asked, taken aback by the young boy in front of him.
“How did you get in here?!”, the boy asked, before jumping over Donatello, taking his bow staff and hitting him in the back of his head with it.
Leo stepped forwards with his hands held up. “Hey little guy. We didn’t come here to fight”. But Leo should have known better. Just like you, this little guy knew when to take advantage of an opening. Using Donatello’s bow staff, he hit the side of both of Leo’s knees, making them crack in a horrible way. “Jes!”, Leo yelled out, falling to the ground. At least you didn’t try to break his legs. Leo would much rather have fought against you, and not this little demon of a child.
All four of the turtle brothers were taken aback by the boy's fighting skills. Leo’s knees were aching, Donnie’s head was hurting, and Raph’s arms would soon form black marks. And the fight hadn't even been five minutes. It ended when Mikey yelled “sneak attack”, before tackling the boy, causing them to tumble around, ending with Mikey on top of the boy, retracted into his shell. The boy screamed all sorts of things out of anger, including how he would have their heads. Leo found the scene strange, just like all the other things he had seen in Gotham. Yet, there was something strangely wholesome about it. Almost domestic. A young boy being sat upon, by what felt like a teasing older brother.
Leo almost had to shake those thoughts out of his head. This wasn’t wholesome nor domestic. They were in Batman’s home (Leo wouldn’t point fingers. He and his family called the sewers home), and this little gremlin might have known something they didn’t.
“Let’s just try and reason with him, before-”. The sound of a car engine cut Leo off mid sentence. “...that”. He already had a suspicion of who it might be.
The Batmobil drove into the cave at full speed, before Batman jumped out of it, landing in front of them with this strong stare, followed by you and Batgirl. Leo had not expected his stomach to jump at the sight of you. Neither had you expected the sight of the blue turtle to make your stomach drop. Maybe it was the conversation with Batman and Batgirl, that now caused the fast heartbeat in your chest, at the sight of the turtle. Or maybe it was the sight of one of them sitting on your little brother, that caused you to clench your fists.
“Get off Robin”. He narrowed his eyes. “Now!”
The orange turtle got off of your brother, and turned to try and help him. Robin, as proud as he was sometimes, refused the turtle’s help, pulling his arm away.
“How did you get into this cave?” You unclenched your fist at the sound of Batman’s voice. Most people would find his tone scary, fearing the angry outburst that would never come. But to you and your bat family, it was a comfort. Batman cared about you, Robin, Batgirl and all of those that came before, and that meant he was willing to protect all of you from any danger. Especially strange turtles that have made it into the Batcave.
Leo took notice of your unclenching fists, and your position just behind. Covered enough to be protected, yet open enough to jump in if needed. Robin, found his place beside Batman, close enough for you to put a protective hand on his shoulder. That weird domestic picture formed in Leo’s head once more.
“Oh, well”, Donnie started. “There weren’t many security measures in the northern tunnel. We had to swim for a bit, but…” Donnie stopped as Batman frowned his brows. “I’m realizing you actually don’t want constructive criticism right now”, Donnie said, slowly pulling his head back into his shell.
“What I want are answers”, Batman said, eyes unmoving as he stared the turtles down.
“Look”. Leo stepped forward, causing you to tighten your grip on Robin’s shoulder, just a bit. But it was enough for Robin to notice, making him shoot you a questioning glare. “We’re not here to fight. My name is Leonardo”. Your grip softened on Robin’s shoulder, causing him to look at you in even more confusion. He knew you were a more expressive type than he and his father, and the sight of four mutant turtles in the Batcave might have shocked you, but so many reactions at once were not common. Not even for you.
Leonardo continued. “These are my brothers. Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo”. The orange turtle started waving at the mention of his name.
“Seriously?”, Batgirl asked, showing more amusement than the rest of the bat family.
“Our father was really into renaissance painters”, Donatello clarified.
“And he’s a rat!”, Michelangelo added.
Robin turned his head towards you. “Did… Did he just say a rat?”, he asked in a hushed tone.
“He did”, you nodded.
Leonardo had to breathe for a moment, after hearing your voice, before continuing. “We’re not your enemy. We came to stop Shredder and the Footclan. Honestly, we thought you might be Shredder’s new partner”.
Robin turned to you once more. “Foot?” You shrugged.
“Shredder”, Batman repeated. “So that’s his name... I’ve heard of a Footclan, but I thought they went extinct ages ago”.
“They’re ninja”, Raphael said. “You know, sneaky”. He moved his hands up in front of his face, as if he was hiding behind them.
“Sooooo…”. Robin moved from your protective hand and straight to the side of Batman. “Are we not going to beat up these green losers?”
Batman looked down towards his son. “It’s not looking like it, no”.
Robin sighed out loud, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. Leo saw as you crossed your arms, and moved all your weight to your left leg, coming ever so slightly out from Batman’s protection.
“Then I may as well tell you that I know exactly who the Shredder and the Foot are working with”, your brother said, letting the small anger building inside of him overshadow his slight disappointment. And when you heard him say the name of his grandfather, you very well understood that anger.
“They are strange”, Robin told you, watching as Batman and Batgirl was talking to the turtles.
“They are indeed strange”, you agreed, fidgeting with whatever gadget you had in your hand, fighting the urge to look up. Because if you looked up, you would look at him. And if you looked at him, he would notice. And if he would notice, then so would Batman, and so would Robin, and Batgirl, and all of Leonardo’s brothers… Better just to focus on… what it was you had in your hand…
“I tried to break the blue one’s legs with the purple’s bow staff”, Robin said, his eyes shining proud. You finally dared to look in the direction of Leonardo, focusing on his legs. You couldn’t see any signs of injury.
“You should have aimed for the knee caps”, you told him, eyes still on the knees of the turtles.
“I did!”, Robin exclaimed, laying flat against the table. “And he did fall! But they didn’t break!”
You took a chance and looked at Leonardo’s face, studying for any signs of discomfort. None. None at all.
That should have been it. You should have looked away, so you could concentrate on that thing you had in your hand. But you didn’t. Your eyes stayed on Leonardo’s face. He was listening to something Batman told him. Most likely information about Ra's al Ghul. He looked very concentrated, with his brows frowning and his arms crossed. You noted that he was almost as stoic as Batman. You haven’t seen him smile a single time. No smiles when he fought the Penguin, no smiles in the alley, and no smiles in the Batcave. The only time you had seen him other than frowning, was when you told him he had pretty eyes.
Robin noticed your sudden silence, and looked at you in confusion. His sister never left him unanswered. She would never let an opportunity to tease him fly. But then he noticed how you had stopped fumbling with your glove, and now sat staring. Confused he looked from you, to what your eyes had been caught by.
Leonardo?
Robin looked back and forth a few times, before it finally clicked for him. He slammed his hand flat against the table, causing you to yelp and stare at your shocked little brother.
“Are you crushing on a turtle?!”
You slapped your hand against his mouth so fast, that the young Robin could only scream and fight. Confused by the sudden commotion, all of them turned to look at you.
“What did he say?”, Mikey asked, obviously intreacted
“Uh”, you said in a slight panic, trying to hold Robin still as he was lashing out against you. “He asked where Alfred was! He’s so hungry he could eat a turtle!” Batman started rubbing the bridge of his nose.
You were going to beat Damian so hard the moment Bruce looked away!
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I think the general idea for Batman (and DC/Marvel in general) canon is basically just the multiverse model. Like the mainline comics get respect for being the first one to exist, and of course you get the obnoxious idiots who whinge about how and deviation from the comics is Bad and Wrong, but otherwise the various different shows and movies are all their own seperate canons. Like BTAS Batman has his own canon, with only Dick and Tim as Robins and ending with him passing the Batman identity to Terry, but no one expects that to impact the comics. (Well, beyond massively popular characters from the other canons like Harley Quinn inevitably showing up in comics too.)
Basically, what I'm trying to say is that Batman as a story is big enough and has so many canons that it's really not unusual to be a Batman fan without ever reading the mainline comics.
It's an entry point thing. So take, I don't know, Middle Earth, for example. (Though technically, as broad as that phrasing is, even that isn't accurate because there are other places outside of Middle Earth that are still within the same universe. Don't come at me.)
There's capital C Canon, and that's the original books as penned by J.R.R. Tolkien (though even he dabbled in some metatextual rewriting with the retcon of the Ring between The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings but we won't get into THAT right now.) The world of Middle Earth as a whole was created starting in the 1930s as a piece of literature up through J.R.R. Tolkien's death in 1973.
From there, though, it gets trickier. The stories of Middle Earth et al have been transformed and added to in the intervening years. Bakshi created an animated movie in the late 1970s that, because it is told in a different medium, by necessity tells a slightly different story. Is that canon? The live-action trilogies from Peter Jackson in the 2000s and 2010s, those are again different and diverging stories from the books. Are those canon? What about the added materials from Christopher Tolkien, as revised and published from his father's materials by the estate? Are those canon? What about the Amazon Prime television series? The Veggietales movie? They're ALL "Middle Earth" and all likely have functioned as the initial entry point for someone and therefore ARE capital C Canon for someone, but by design or circumstance each displays a different version of events and characterization that will necessarily conflict in small or large ways.
With comic-based canon, it can be even more complicated because Hollywood has a habit of skinning comic properties and dressing up new little blorbos in the names of older comic characters. Even I know the Nolan Batman movies look noooooooooothing like the Silver Age Batman comics and the Birds of Prey Cassandra Cain has no relation at all to any other Canon or canon depiction of her, as far as I'm aware.
So, yes. "Batman as a story is big enough and has so many canons that it's really not unusual to be a Batman fan without ever reading the mainline comics" because defining canon in and of itself is such a HARD and complicated thing to do. And I also understand why folks with a much more simplistic and rigid definition of canon (aka, their own specific, personal entry point to the world and characters) can feel so weird when they encounter someone else with a different definition.
But also I think there's an argument to be made that when the Arbiters Of Official Canon (in this case, DC) have aggressively rebooted and rewritten THEIR OWN CANON so many times without regard for continuity or even inherent internal logic, then there is no absolute authority of Canon or canon and we can all do what we want with the understanding that when you or I or anyone else gripes about "canon" and "characterization" we're speaking only within our own pocket of the bramble.
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zahri-melitor · 6 months
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I've been thinking about War of the Robins, aka 'Damian challenges the other Robins to prove he's the Best Robin' storyline from Batman and Robin 2011, and what I think worked about it in terms of characterisation. (look I'm reading New 52, you get to hear lots of my ten plus years out of date thoughts about New 52, enjoy)
Because look, I think it was successful in presenting how desperate for approval and validation Damian is, but it also feeds into the narrative you can see percolating during this time that Damian can't cope with just being one of the family, he has to be the best, have the most love and approval, have physical demonstrations of his superiority, because he's grown up understanding being one of the group to be a death sentence. (Dick has to be his Batman, and Damian Dick's Robin, he needs the writers giving him reassurance that they were 'the best' right before he dies, the new timeline cuts off any other occasions Dick was Batman, Damian gets given extra pets right before he dies as a sop for his death, etc etc)
Which is believable characterisation for Damian! It is understandable given the background they're building for him! But also sharply aggravating because nobody has ever accused fans of being reasonable and this just digs people into being more deeply opposed to the character their favourite is in conflict with.
So he 'challenges' Tim and Jason 'at something you feel unbeatable at' in a way that sharply exploits emotions they're sensitive about.
Damian...shows Tim a video of Tim considering killing and pulling back, and implies that that makes Tim a killer just like Damian and "they're the same". Now I think this one is actually pretty weak - while yes it's exploiting a point Tim's sensitive over (and in our world has dealt with twice in the calendar year prior to this story), it's also something Tim's pretty solid on; Tim knows he's not a killer and will pull back, while he's seen Damian kill. I also think that a Damian who's working to be a better person would not refer to the Spook situation as "a bit rambunctious", rather than it being something he regrets and tries to grow from. It does amuse me that Tim gets to smash Damian into Jason's trophy case however this time for the parallel, though being the one who breaks the case generally is framed to make you the one 'in the wrong' in the confrontation. Also as far as I can tell Damian never takes a physical trophy from this fight, which sort of ruins your whole premise, Damian. NB: I see Damian has Tim's bo in his room later, but Tim clearly ended the fight holding it and then left. There's definitely an art issue here.
Jason's fight is even more exploitation of a known weakness. Jason's got every right to be touchy about someone threatening him with a crowbar. Also I really really dislike that Damian's just freely admitting to the time he locked himself in with the Joker to beat him up at GCPD, because honestly that bit of story and its timing has always seemed to contradict the 'he's getting better' narrative that Dick maintains during Reborn. And again the whole conversation is "we're so alike but nobody loves you". At least this time Damian clearly takes his trophy (which is a helmet, which is still displayed in Damian's room during scenes there in the B&R Requiem issue).
Dick showing up at the end to explain to Damian that he doesn't need to try so hard prove his worth and just handing over an escrima stick - look it's sweet and it does impart the moral that Damian needed to learn over this whole situation. But also it does not really help, as it's just deepened the family fault-lines between Dick & Damian as a pair and *sigh* Jason & Tim.
The other thing I get out of it is whether it's just bravado or not, Damian's a lot more comfortable with his childhood violence continuing to come out rather than working to fit the rules of what makes a Robin and a superhero than people want to say he is. Yes, he needs unconditional love and support to grow and learn, and Dick's being used to provide that. But it's also occasion 3000 when I'm sitting here going "is anyone ever going to give Damian actual boundaries and enforce them when he tests them?" because he's once again well outside what is expected. Bruce tries at the start to defuse the argument, and Dick tries at the end to explain why Damian didn't need to do this, he's already won, but I do wonder how much of it sunk in.
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dork-empress · 3 years
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Singing in the Dead of Night
Damian Wayne meets a new masked persona in Gotham, and everyone has to adjust to her.
AKA I have a lot of headcanons about Lucy Quinzel and I'm making it other people's problem.
I want it up front that I haven't read these comics, just a lot of wiki pages and tiktoks. If there's a fun thing in the comics you can tell me, but this is my own version of this universe and these characters.
This is going to be the main story, but I may do some offshoots. If you want to subscribe, chapters are also posted on my Ao3 (link in my description).
“You need to take things less seriously.”
Damian looked up, looked down, and then looked back just to be sure it was really his father who asked. It was hard to tell sometimes if your superhero father had been replaced or possessed or something. “Are you serious? YOU’RE telling me that?”
“That should enforce to you how dire the situation is.” Bruce said, leaning back in his chair. “You’re still a kid,”
“I’m 15,” Damian said, then thought about his varied adventures, “Technically…”
“My point exactly,” Bruce said, turning a page on his crime reports, “You should enjoy being a kid, for a while.”
“Oh, did you enjoy being 15?” Damian said, and maybe that was a low blow, but if Bruce wasn’t ready for him to call him out he...shouldn’t have made him upset. Hmm.
Bruce looked up and stared into his soul, and Damian worried he might have stepped in it a bit. He backed up a step in case. Bruce took a deep breath, looking at him. “My childhood was stolen from me, but I at least had one. As did all the other Robins. You’re not responsible for what happened to you,but I think you could use some time. I couldn’t offer you a childhood then, and I can hardly do that now, I know, but I can do what I can.”
“And what are you doing?” Damian asked, narrowing his eyes.
“You’re suspended from Robin duties.”
“WHAT?!” Damian exploded, getting in his face. “What are you talking about?!”
Bruce didn’t flinch, “Until the Wayne Manor Christmas Party,” Bruce said, “I’ve called Tim and he’s willing to cover for you until then.”
“He doesn’t NEED to cover me,” Damian snarled, “I’m right here! I’m not injured, or dead, or ANYTHING I just--WHY?”
“I told you,” Bruce said, “You need to find other...hobbies, or form connections or SOMEthing. Anything other than the lifestyle. You have two months, you’ll live.”
Damian curled his fists, shaking, but had no more arguments. “You’re the WORST!” He said, and went off to his rooms.
The room was left in stony silence for a moment. Alfred came in, changing out Bruce’s cup of tea. “You don’t actually expect that to work, do you?”
“Not really, no,” Bruce said, “But he’ll be out of my hair for a little bit.”
Alfred was very dignified and so did not snort. But it was close.
Damian went out at night, saying he was off with a friend. Best to keep things vague, but if Bruce pressed, he’d say he was with Jon, and could probably bully Jon into vouching for him.
He dressed all in black, jumping from the rooftops, looking for trouble. There was usually plenty of it in Gotham. He just had to avoid the Bat Signal hanging in the sky and he’d be fine.
He heard a crash and looked down. Jewelry store robbery. Perfect.
He jumped down to ground level and approached the broken in window, taking out his sword. “Anyone in here, it’s better to surrender now,”
Of course, because it was Gotham, he wasn’t met by a normal jewel thief. No, instead, what approached him was a small walking orange balloon animal dog.
Because of course it was.
With an act first, think later attitude, he stabbed at it. He regretted it instantly as it let out some sort of opaque gas, the effects of which he didn’t want to find out. He pulled his shirt up over his mouth in hopes of preventing himself breathing too much in.
“Oh wow,” a voice said behind him, “Are you Robin?”
Damian whipped around and scowled. The gas was obscuring whoever was there, but the silhouette seemed like something of a ballerina. Why couldn’t one criminal just be normal?
He jumped back, ready to attack, but she didn’t fight him. “I’m not Robin,” he said, “I’m…” he didn’t think of another name. Ugh, this was more complicated than it needed to be.
“Huh,” she said, heading over to the display case, “This city sure has a lot of teenage ninja fighters, doesn’t it? Is ninja appropriative? Hmm, will have to think on that.”
She picked up a diamond ring from the display case and headed for the door. “Put that down!” Damian yelled at her, lifting his sword up.
“What, are you going to kill me for one ring?” She said, holding it, “Kinda overkill, don’t you think, Blackbird?”
Damian put his sword up to her, blocking the exit. “I’m not going to kill you, I’m just going to stop you,” he said, determined, but then her words sank in. “Blackbird?”
“Well, I’ve got to call you something, isn’t that how these superhero fights all go?” She stepped forward out of the fog, a girl about his age with a white painted face, lips painted into a heart, and bright orange and pink eyeshadow. “I’m Commedia, the hero of funny, the dancing clown, the laughing knight, etc etc.” she said, “im still working on my name too.”
She did a fancy twirl, getting out of range of Damian’s sword, which he countered to block her from the entrance again. “Oh, you like to dance?” she said.
“Clown, huh?” he said, staring her down, “You work for the joker?”
She laughed, high pitched and sweet, “Very much no,” she said, twirling again through the store, “Though I understand the confusion. No, Joker is...well, a joke. He’s not even registered in the clown registry.”
“There’s a clown registry?” He swung his sword.
This time, it came to a stop, with a matching jingle. He frowned, and saw it was a tambourine that the woman had lifted and stopped the sword like a shield.
He stared at the girl, Commedia, in stunned silence. She smiled brightly at him. “Well, this has been fun. But I really ought to head out. Raincheck on that dance, Blackbird.”
With a spin and a jump, she made it past him and rushed out the door, throwing a pink flower behind. A gas filled up the room in her wake, obscuring the view. Damian unfortunately got a whiff before he could block his nose, but he knew a simple fog cloud scent when he smelled it.
Damian went back into the shadows before the police inevitably arrived. It did seem below his paygrade, fighting someone who only stole a single diamond ring. But it was even stranger for that fact. A strangely dressed clown woman engaging in very strange and specific crimes in Gotham screamed “beginning of a dangerous plot.”
He wanted to go in swinging as usual, then remembered that if his father heard anything about a young person with a sword threatening police, he might catch onto the fact Damian went out that night. So, he went with the subtle approach. Breaking into the jewelry store’s records.
He was glad he did. It turned out that ring in particular had a history. It had been bought, returned, bought again, and returned once more, all by the same man, a Matthew Crenshaw. A quick records search brought up that he was a simple caller at a center. Nothing special about him. But, he was tied to the ring, and that tied him to the girl, so that was his first stop.
He tracked down the apartment to find Matthew Crenshaw in the middle of a very strange day. Damien watched through the window as Matthew lay on the floor of his meager living room, looking up at Commedia herself. She held the ring out to him, offering. “Well come on, man! Take it!”
“I don’t…” he mumbled, “Who...who are you?!”
“Just call me your fairy godmother,” she said. “Come on, you said you wanted it! So take it!”
“That’s…” Matthew said, “That’s the ring that Jenny liked...that she…”
“That you said would make the perfect proposal!” She said, dancing around, “So? Here it is! Now you can propose for real!” she said, giving it to him.
He juggled it, nearly falling over. Commedia came rushing over, jumping through the window and onto the fire escape. “Alright, hands up,” Damian urged her.
She turned, smiling. “Why, Blackbird? We going on roller coaster?” She put her hands high in the air and swung around the fire escape ladder, “Weeeeee!”
Damian followed her, pointing his sword tip at her chest. “Stop,” he said, “What are you planning?”
“Well, I’m planning to go sneak up to that window up there so I can look in and see what Matty and Jenny have going on,” She said, “Wanna join--OH!”
Damian pressed his sword up to her neck. “Cut the games,” He said, “You’re up to something, I know it. So tell me.”
Commedia sighed, giving in. “Matthew doesn’t want to get married.”
“I...what?” Damian said, confused.
“Matthew Crenshaw, the guy up there,” Commedia said, “He’s a nice guy, and he cares for his girlfriend Jenny, sure. But she’s been pressuring him about getting married, even though he doesn’t really like the idea of getting married. He’s talked himself into saying that he needs the perfect ring, but when he bought it, he decided he couldn’t afford it, and gave it back. So, I got it for him.”
Damian’s scowl only deepened as she kept talking. “Who’s he to you?”
She tilted her head, confused. “He cold called me to try and offer me a deal on car insurance.”
Damian put down the sword. He just. She said it so sincerely. “Who ARE you?” He demanded, now out of confusion more than anger.
She smiled brightly once more. “Why, I’m Commedia! The hero clown, the dancing--”
“Yeah, you said all that before, but like,” He sighed, “Why?”
Commedia’s smile fell down to something simple and kind. She offered a hand to him.
Hesitant, curious, and just...confused, he took it.
She led him to the other window, where they saw Jenny walking through the door. She gasped and ran to Matthew. “Oh, Matt! Matt, yes! Yes, I do, I do, I never thought this day would come! Oh gosh, I gotta call my mom, I’ve got a few dresses all picked out. You’ll see, it’ll be a huge party with everyone we know and-”
“Jenny,” he said, “Jenny wait, I...you know I don’t...I’m not comfortable with crowds and...and I don’t--
“But it’s MY DAY!” Jenny wailed, “You wouldn’t take MY day from me, would you?”
“C’mon,” Commedia muttered.
“Please, Jen,” Matt continued, “Look it’s just...if, if we did get married, shouldn’t--wouldn’t it be my day too?”
“Oh come ON, Matt,” Jenny said, walking to the counter, “We both know I’m the one who knows what’s best for you. It’ll be good! You’ll finally get to shine, and if you don’t like it, you’ll have ME there to take the rest of the spotlight!”
Matt’s hands balled into fists, and his face set, “No.”
“What?” Jenny said, incredulous.
“I’ve had it! I’m tired of-of you telling me what I like and what I don’t!” his lip trembled as he stood up. “I knew I was hesitant, but I didn’t know why! Now I see it’s becasue I didn’t want you in the rest of my life!”
“Hey now,” Jenny said, “Matt, calm down--”
“Get out of my house!” Matt went to the open window Commedia left behind and tossed out the ring.
“Whoopsies,” Commedia said and dropped away. Damian, confused, dropped down after her.
She picked the ring up from the ground and held it out to Damian. “I trust you can get this back to the jewelry store.”
“So, all of that…” he said, “was to help a guy get out of a bad relationship? That you barely knew?”
“He sounded sad on the phone,” Commedia said, “Made me curious.”
Damian scoffed, staring at her. “Who ARE you?”
She chuckled. “My guess is you’ll find out sooner or later,” she said, “So I’ll pick later, for now. But I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Blackbird.”
She took out another flower. This one shot off into the distance like a grappling hook, and pulled her twirling into the night.
Damian could have followed her, maybe. But, holding the ring in his hands, he didn’t see much need to.
Across town, Batman was called to a bank robbery in the middle of the night. Inside, however, he didn’t find the vault broken in, and nothing stolen, other than a number of complimentary lollipops. “You know there are easier ways to get my attention.”
“Aw, Come on Bats!” Harley said, swinging from the ceiling with one of the lollipops in her mouth, “Ain’t this a classic? Brings me back to the old days.”
“Oh, you’ve stopped doing crime then?” He said, leaning back and looking up at her, “News to me.”
Harley flipped down in front of him. “Batsy, you know I’m tryin’! I do good, is it a crime to have a little fun while I do it?”
“If you hurt people, yes.” Batman said.
Harley deflated. “I haven’t done that in a while now. I’m goin through some life changes.”
Batman hummed, staring down at her. “I’m guessing this is about the small clown that has been reported around town recently doing strange acts of minor crimes to help people?”
Harley brightened again, balancing on the teller counter. “She’s my new apprentice! A bit of a goody-two-shoes, but I’m doing my best to train her.” She did a handstand, “I came to ask for some advice at raising child soldiers, considering you have so much experience.”
Batman always scowled, but it seemed his scowl deepened on that. “I help some people come to terms with terrible things that have happened to them, and teach them to be a force of good in the world instead of falling to the world’s darkness.” He thought back on his children, “It doesn’t always work.”
Harley laughed, “No kidding,” she said. She sighed, thinking. “To be honest, Commedia is already pretty good. I can’t claim credit for that.” She rocked back and forth, feeling uneasy.
Batman approached, slow so as not to scare her. “Well, we both know she didn’t get it from her father.”
Her face was already white, but she blanched further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, “She’s my niece, she ran from home so I’m taking care of her and-”
“Harley,” Batman stopped her rambling, “I’m a detective, remember?”
She frowned, shaking at him. “He doesn’t know,” she said, “No one knows, she...she’s never met him and I don’t want her to I--”
Batman held up his hands, stopping her again. “I know,” he said, “I understand, really. And I’ll help.”
She blinked up at him, smiling. “Really?”
Batman nodded. “I’ll help you protect her. As for advice....if you ever figure out a perfect way to raise masked vigilantes, let me know. I mostly just do the best I can, and make sure they can do a proper spin-kick if they need to.”
Harley snorted. “I’ll make a note of that.” She grabbed the box of free lollies on the counter, “I am going to be robbing these though, and you can’t stop me.”
She headed for the back entrance and away. “Harley,” Batman called her again, and she froze, “The year you were gone, when you disappeared and suddenly your sister had a child she wasn’t pregnant with. I want you to know, I noticed.”
Harley smiled, turning, “Thanks Bats-” When she turned, he was gone. “And people call me a drama queen.”
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dog-day-morning · 3 years
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YOU OWE THEM NOTHING
People can be self-righteous when it comes to what they think God is supposed to do if, and when they call on Him. God is not a genie in a bottle that you rub, and a jinn pops out granting you 3 or 300 wishes. The saying faith without works is dead can be applied here. Have you ever heard of or read the book Daniel Webster and the devil? This tall tale or folklore legend was about a man who made a deal with old Slew Foot, and when it was time to pay up he had 2nd thoughts. Satan never plays fair. He's forever putting us in positions where we find ourselves desperate for a quick solution to a temporary problem that only leads to a difficult end. The Latin term for buyer beware is caveat emptor, and Satan knows how to spell. The power of a wicken comes from their basic weapon of spelling or casting spells by word of mouth. Even the Bible tells us that “Death and life are in the power of the tongue: and they that love it shall eat the fruit thereof.” Tell that to a Nicolaitan. Those who make deals with the most unclean should expect to suffer in the end. Never trust the father of lies who deals in treachery, and deceit. I look back at my mother's life and wonder if God had ever intervened for her, and fought her battles that surely He and only He would be able to deliver her from, and He has. Life is hard, for many it’s a nightmare that’s ongoing. Satan comes to you when you're at your weakest or most vulnerable in the hopes of snaring your soul into eternal suffering. Jesus comes to deliver us from death, sin, and temptations that confuse us in our trek towards His truth. If you have any aspirations of entertaining people with your gifted voice or your talent for playing lead guitar, don’t sign a contract that promises you the world only to find out you owe them your sweet ass which a man of honor wouldn't consider let alone make you cosign your body for their horn dog appeasement.
Revelation 2:9
9 I know thy works, and tribulation, and poverty, (but thou art rich) and I know the blasphemy of them which say they are Jews, and are not, but are the synagogue of Satan.
You're abundantly rich in spirit Yacob. Now’s the time to claim your position. These bastards have taken everything from you leaving your ancestors nothing but dust. If they could remove us off the face of the Earth they would. They're plotting to do so as you and I breathe, that's why the Father never sleeps. They are demon spawns who say they worship, and believe in God, but whose god, and what righteous god tells you to destroy a people with his blessing knowing what the children of Japheth have done to them historically? The spawns of Satan want your penuche, mouth, titties, and a-hole for their pleasure along with your talent that Justin Timberlake does not have. The new faces of R&B do not look like the people I grew up listening to or the race of people whose songs left an everlasting impression on my bleeding heart that helped me through my ill-fated, miserable existence. Robin Thicke, Christina Aguilera, K-Pop, the BackStreet Boys, and New Kids on the Block. Some of these groups are defunct, but they’re cranking out as many as they possibly can like Justin Bieber, and Demi Lovato. I just saw on YouTube where people were considering if Elvis Presley was Black, WTF?!! He was the biggest culture thief that Dr. Frankenstein, AKA Colonel Parker ever created. Man is cruel; Satan is a whole other type of bastard you shouldn’t entertain. I'm retarded. Some call me an idiot savant. YO MOMMA!!! People are blessed by the Father who has blessed many of us with gifts. There are many of you whom God has endowed with multiple talents that people would sell their soul in order to possess just one. If you're anointed by God to sing like Aretha Franklin may He lead you to sign with a label like Brother Carl Crawford's who won't make the same mistake he did with a very popular artist at this moment. More than likely you'll sign a contract entrusting your talent, blessing, and soul to the most unclean ones. Ain’t a reason in hell you should bow down or bend over for a leach like Mr. Friedman so he can butt bone your a-hole while enriching himself off your God given talents. God blesses those who seek him out, and those that don’t. I don’t know if Eddie Murphy went to Church, and sowed an offering every Sunday to God praying that the Father would make him the highest paid comedic actor in his prime. Richard Pryor was anointed in the womb to be the most blessed comedic talent, and influential comedian to ever walk this Earth bar none yet he and Mr. Murphy pursued their dreams in different ways with both of them becoming world renown. I'm inclined to ask, was it worth it?
Mark 8:36
For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?
The synagogue of Satan isn’t a trending pop culture manifestation that’s to be esteemed, cherished, or envied. These cults are trying to maintain a stranglehold on a world that’s not meant for them or their sort. People who play with Ouija boards or childhood games like Bloody Mary, and light as a feather are ushering dark spirits into their homes leaving their loved ones exposed to something sinister. Get the hell away from me and mine unless you're my sister, AKA Ms. Skunk Funk, who needs to get the crust burnt off her musty, dusty drawers. The whore of Don Juan has a death wish. Explain to me how running with the devil beats walking with God?
Isaiah 59:7
7 Their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed innocent blood: their thoughts are thoughts of iniquity; wasting and destruction are in their paths.
This Nation was built on our ancestor’s blood, sweat, and relentless faith. Believe me when I say there's strength in every tear. I pray to God that I don’t shed anymore of them. Their wealth is not. It's a stolen Promise that the Father shall reward His children with. Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it. The most glaring, and frustrating example that is also bitter and disheartening I can give you is our Promised Inheritance called Yisrael that the gentiles are squatting on. When a person or in this case a tribe or race of people believe in their own lies they've become reprobate; they're lost.
Revelation 3:9
9 Behold, I will make them of the synagogue of Satan, which say they are Jews, and are not, but do lie; behold, I will make them to come and worship before thy feet, and to know that I have loved thee.
This is what all of Esau's children fear. It's why the bland, colored people of the world are flipping over the Earth's axis, and killing us without any probable cause. They are a lawless people who've displayed their lack of empathy, and humanity for anyone save their own breed, they behave like blood hounds. I've become content with this planet being void of water (Holy Spirit.) Black people suffer from a social disorder called the crab bucket mentality. We hate to see anyone rise up, and we’ll do whatever it takes to keep them down or discourage them. That person may possess something that can benefit the collective, who cares. He who possesses that blessing needs to haul tail ASAP before the winter comes knowing the Father will bless him, and a downtrodden people beyond their wildest dreams. This is why Yeshua, and His Father call us children. It's why I pray, and bemoan to the Father daily that He slays me, putting the fear of the Lord in the heathen and His Son Christ Jesus uses us for His purpose. God doesn't need us, we need Him. He's given us so much power, and authority. When you acquire it, use it for something other than satisfying your sinful, carnal, flesh minded desires. Men, don't behave like horn dogs, and women do not behave as Aholah, and Aholibah, 2 whores.
Numbers 32:24
24 Build you cities for your little ones, and folds for your sheep; and do that which hath proceeded out of your mouth.
Out of thine own mouth you have power to tread over snakes and scorpions. You can exorcise demons and devils out of your present life braking generational curses which is what I' want for a family that's disowned me. To God be the glory. God is telling us to declare a thing, and claim it. What a mighty, just God we serve. Your tongue will become a weapon to use against the lawless ones who use theirs recklessly in their attempts to get us arrested or murdered by local, and federal authorities. You can call it giving them a taste of their own medicine, it isn't. You're reclaiming what they've taken, stolen, including those of us they've murdered.
Isaiah 54:17
17 No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper; and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn. This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord, and their righteousness is of me, saith the Lord.
The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly. Speak positive prayers out loud if you can. If you live with your family or have a roommate pray in the closet. You'll have favor with God that many people won't. They rebuked the Lord, and their anger did tear perpetually, and they kept their wrath forever. When they use their privilege, which is what we call it more often than they, comprehending they’re fully aware knowing they use it with a Demonic, driven hatred. They persecute Black men, women, and children for reasons that are not godly, and the Father does not condone. They, and all the Earth will have to answer for our individual sins against the Father in the end.
Luke 10:19
19 Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy: and nothing shall by any means hurt you.
We don’t worship the same god as they do. They're praying to a god to erase us off the face of the Earth. Why hasn't he?.
Exodus 1:12
12 But the more they afflicted them, the more they multiplied and grew. And they were grieved because of the children of Israel.
Their birth rate is dropping steadily. For the first time in the history of the census they decreased in population globally while indigenous, and other races of people stayed steady or in our case increased. This is the reasoning behind these draconian abortion laws. They're trying to preserve themselves while God is eliminating the Earth of their bloody dominion. God is sending the wicked a message before the storm comes, but no one's listening. Their violence towards us is documented, and more often it's unprovoked. They continue with the guilty until proven worthy of their mercy dogmatic mantra which is racist BS. The Earth will be lulled back to sleep. When they're confident that their world isn't in danger of being challenged by anyone, especially us. That's when God will do things that will scare them right back to the caucasus mountains bringing destruction to those who've touched, bruised, and abused the Apple of His eye. Speak life into your angel spirit, don’t entertain the demon seed that's trying to kill you, and the rest of Earth's indigenous people. You have much authority, use it. Elohim. 9/23/2021
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365days365movies · 3 years
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May 9, 2021: A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001) (Recap: Part Two)
So, this is an adaptation of Pinocchio, right?
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I mean...yeah, it definitely is. It’s a story about an artificial boy, brought to life and given to a parent to raise, learning lessons about humanity all along the way. Hell, they use the Collodi story as an element of the plot, so there’s no way it isn’t an adaptation of the original story. Here, I’ll break it down.
First, he’s given life by Hobby, who represents both his creator and the one who gives the artificial boy life. In other words, he’s a portmanteau of two characters: the Blue Fairy and Geppetto. The latter created him, while the former gives him life. Really, I’d argue that he’s more of the Blue Fairy.
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So, who’s Geppetto? Obviously, Monica. She’s the (semi) loving parent that ACTUALLY makes David her son...literally. Remember the Winter Soldier awakening sequence? Monica is a flawed parent who obviously doesn’t quite know how to care for the little artificial boy, similar to how Geppetto is normally portrayed. And, like him, she never gets to teach her new son about the world before releasing him into it.
Of course, Geppetto didn’t physically abandon Pinocchio in the woods, but whatever. At least this Pinocchio’s been left with his Jiminy Cricket. Unlike the traditional version, though, this one is fuzzy.
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Teddy, the stuffed bear supertoy, is clearly meant to be Jiminy Cricket, the conscience meant to guide David along his way, and along his journey. He subtly guides David, giving him advice that he sometimes ignores. And, given that David probably wasn’t built with a conscience, it makes sense to give him an internal one. Speaking of, let’s talk about David, because this simile might actually be more important than one would think in understanding this film.
David, of course, is creepy as FUCK. He’s trying hard to be a real boy that his mother can accept, but he’s so goddamn creepy. And initially, I thought that this might just be bad acting or direction. But then, I walked away for a little bit, and I realized something: what if that’s on purpose? Because here’s the thing: David isn’t real. And neither is Pinocchio, but with Pinocchio, you KNOW that.
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Pinocchio is, after all, a puppet. And that point is obvious visually, both in the basically flawless Disney film, and in the original book. But David is, after all, played by an ACTUAL real boy, and therefore appears real to the audience. So, how to make him appear artificial? By emphasizing the fact that David’s behavior and actions are not natural. They are programmed and artificial. And so, when the journey begins, David hasn’t yet learned to be a real boy. And therefore, he isn’t yet real. And now, of course, he’s on the journey not only to become a real boy, but also to earn that chance. Just like Pinocchio.
But we’re only one-third through this film, and a LOT more happens in the story of Pinocchio. I’m not suggesting that this movie perfectly follows the book or Disney film by any means, but it’s definitely following some of its structure. And if Pinocchio is known for anything, it’s known for its most iconic villains and adversaries. I’m talking these guys:
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And I’m...looking forward to seeing how these guys are adapted? Wait, wait, wait, hold on...I railed HARD against Act One (which you can read right here), whose writing and plot I still think were poorly thought out. But, after this mental recontextualization...am I actually enjoying this movie?
Shit, maybe. Thinking about it in these terms actually helps. OK, Kubrick, Spielberg...hit me with your best shot.
Recap (2/3)
With Act Two, enter Gigolo Joe (Jude Law). Yes. Really.
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Gigolo Joe is a “lover Mecha”, a model built specifically for sexual gratification. Joe’s an interesting case, as he’s obviously built to be quite seductive, in a physical and a sensual manner. He’s been hired by a woman trying to get away from her abusive husband, and proceeds to woo her with sweet nothings, easing her discomfort with the idea of sleeping with a Mecha. And I’m gonna be honest: Joe is a CHARMING motherfucker, smooth and slick as a robot ought to be, with the ability to change his appearance and voice to please his customers.
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And as I’m watching him, trying to figure out if he’s the Fox or the Cat, or both combined, he’s suddenly framed for murder by the jealous husband of one of his clients! Shit! Understanding exactly how fucked he is, he takes the necessary precautions and removes his identification chip. I’m not entirely sure who he is, but I’m interested in revisiting that plot, that’s for sure.
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David, meanwhile, is wandering around in the woods, where he comes up with the idea to find the Blue Fairy from Pinocchio, who will surely turn him into a real boy. But while wandering through the woods, what does he find but another group of robots like himself, scavenging from parts that’ve been dumped in the woods. And the CGI here is absolutely fantastic looking, as the robots outfit themselves with technology.
Also stumbling upon this display is Joe, on the run. But as they all appear in the same place, the moon suddenly rises. And it’s gorgeous.
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This is not the Moon, but a gorgeous hot-air balloon from something called the Flesh Fair. With men on the ground on specialized motorcycles called “Hounds”, and with an eye-in-the-sky belonging to commander Lord Johnson-Johnson (Brendan Gleeson). He and his men hunt down Mecha to take them to the Flesh Fair, where robots are destroyed for the sport of human observers.
They chase down and capture all of the robots assembled, including David, Joe, and THIS spectacular special effect.
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Yeah, holy shit, that’s amazing.
Anyway, it’s here that David loses his conscience, as Teddy falls out, only to be brought to the Flesh Fair and taken as a lost toy, placed in the lost-and-found. And, now that we’re here, it’s time we acknowledge what this appears to be: Stromboli’s Circus.
Given the fact that the “puppet show” is clearly replaced by the abuse and destruction of robots (including one weirdly resembling and voiced by Chris fucking Rock of all people), and that it has a ringmaster in the form of Johnson-Johnson, this is definitely meant to be a replacement for Stromboli’s puppet show. Albeit, one colored by anti-Mecha racism, but whatever.
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A little girl wanders up to the cage where David’s kept, and confuses him for a human child. She goes to her father, who’s astonished by the existence of a robot child, and he goes to Johnson-Johnson, who gives not a single shit, and brings him up to be destroyed with the rest in the flesh fair. Dude REALLY doesn’t like robots. David, understandably scared, has his Damage Avoidance System kick in, and he grabs onto Gigolo Joe for safety, dragging him along to their deaths.
As he’s about to be melted by concentrated acid in front of a crowd (all of whom are affected by seeing a child be melted, robot or not), David cries out in fear. This leads to the audience STRAIGHT-UP REBELLING, as they refuse to believe that David is anything but human. He immediately takes off, alongside Gigolo Joe and Teddy.
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We head back to Cybertronics, where it’s revealed that David is actually a facsimile for Hobby’s departed son. Which is...weird. Real talk, this is extraordinarily odd, and Hobby clearly has some massive issues he needs to figure out. In the forest, Hobby and Joe get to know each other. He recommends getting to Rouge City to find the Blue Fairy, whose location they will ask for from a “Dr. Know”, as there is nothing he doesn’t.
Also, Jude Law’s giving a fuckin’ soliloquy about robot prostitution right now, and I’m not gonna lie to you; I can dig it. It’s a Queen Mab speech about gettin’ down on that robodick, and it’s actually quite entertaining. And with that, we not only head to Rouge City, but we also discover who Joe is meant to represent. If Rogue City is Pleasure Island (and it OBVIOUSLY is), Gigolo Joe is meant to be both the Fox (AKA Honest John, AKA J. Worthington Foulfellow), AND Lampwick. Neat! Anyway, Rouge City...
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...is not even a little subtle, goddamn. It’s literally a sex-island. And yet, once there, David is introduced to Dr. Know (Robin Williams), a kiosk where you pay for information, which makes me appreciate Wikipedia so goddamn much. To the good Doctor, they ask for the location of the Blue Fairy. And by accurately using keywords (a skill under-appreciated in Google Searches), they get an eerie reading of Hobby’s book, beginning with a Yeats poem.
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With this information, they discover that Hobby (and the secret to David becoming a real boy) is at the end of the world, in a place called “Man-hattan”. David is filled with new determination, but Gigolo isn’t quite sure if this is real. David fights back, saying that his mother loves him and that the Blue Fairy must become real. But Joe insists that she likely did not love him, and simply liked how she made him feel. And while David refuses this idea outright...he’s almost certainly correct.
They go outside, and Joe is about to be taken away by the police, presumably for that murdered woman. However, the helicopter they came in is taken by David, who plans to use it to get to Manhattan. Joe escapes and joins him, and the two head to Manhattan.
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End Act Two. See you in Act Three!
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jemelle · 3 years
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reflections {ncis}
rating: g
pairing: n/a, ziva david & abby sciuto
summary: 'Family. That’s what they are, aren’t they?' (or: Ziva & Abby celebrate Hanukkah)
a/n: set season 3 aka 2005. written for day 10 of the holiday special organized by @blakes-dictionxry, though i did stretch the prompt (when do i not?) i’m not Jewish, so if i’ve misrepresented something, please let me know! thank you for reading and chag chanukah sameach!
my masterlist
you can also read this story on ao3 here!
“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." – Edith Wharton
Ziva is supposed to be on vacation. Right now, she should be at a nice hotel outside of Annapolis, taking a bubble bath and reading the kind of magazines that Tony would never let her live down. It’s the day after Christmas, after all. Judging from the way some people in this country act, if anyone should be able to convince people to hold off on committing crimes for a few days, it’s the Christian God. Yet somehow, she’s still at work.
The phone call had come at eight in the morning, jolting Ziva out of a rare lie-in. She had reached for the receiver in the darkness, cursing loudly in Hebrew as her hand banged into the lamp on the side table.
“What is it?” she had groused without bothering to check the caller ID, voice still heavy from sleep. There was only one person who would dare disturb her this early, and she already had a good idea of what Gibbs was going to say.
“We got a case,” was the response, much as she had expected. Ziva had sighed, hanging up and running a hand through her unkempt hair. She really did not get paid enough for this.
In the end, it had turned out to be a simple case. One hard look at the brother and he had confessed, a jealous rage taken too far. No red herrings, no international crime syndicates. A waste of their investigative skills, if she’s being honest. 
The case itself had finished around four in the afternoon, but then there was the paperwork, and it was entirely possible Ziva had been putting off last week’s work as well. By the time she’s finished all of that, it’s too late to drive to her (non-refundable, she feels the need to add) reservation if she wants to arrive at a reasonable hour.
She’s getting ready to leave, promising herself that she can still salvage what’s left of this day, when McGee tells her that she’s needed urgently in Abby’s lab. As far as Ziva can remember, she hasn’t asked Abby for anything recently, so she approaches the lab carefully, half-expecting to find a sobbing Abby on the floor. Why Tony and Tim expect her to be able to deal with emotions, she’ll never understand. She may be a woman, but Ziva thinks she’s proven time and time again that emotional connection is not her forte.
The lights are dimmed when Ziva rounds the corner into Abby’s lab, but Abby herself is nowhere to be seen. Instead, Ziva sees a neatly set table with two place settings and, strangely, a hanukkiah. 
Tonight is the second night of Hanukkah. Ziva knows that– she had packed her own hanukkiah in her suitcase, intending to light it and pray when she reached her hotel room. But, to the best of Ziva’s knowledge, Abby isn’t Jewish.
Ziva raps lightly on the door to the lab, watching as Abby emerges from a shadowed back corner of the room. She sure can hide, Ziva will give her that. 
“What is this?” Ziva asks, gesturing at the spread in front of her.
“Happy Hanukkah!” Abby says, as if that answers the question. She steps further out of the shadows and Ziva can see that she’s holding a frying pan. 
“Thank you.” Ziva is confused, to put it mildly. While she appreciates the sentiment, she's still no closer to understanding the rationale behind Abby’s actions.
“Well, I thought… you don’t really have any family in D.C, so I researched what to do!” Abby approaches the table, depositing what Ziva can now see are latkes on the plates. Leaving the pan on the nearest lab surface, she flicks on the lights, displaying blue and white garlands hung around the room. “I even got you a present!”
“Oh, Abby.” She really is touched, especially given the rocky start their relationship had gotten off to. This is a gesture she might expect from Jenny (well, at least the dinner portion. She doesn’t think Jenny has ever been one for tinsel), but Abby doing this is a true testament to her giant heart.
“But?” Abby prompts, and Ziva forgot that while Abby is kind, she is first and foremost always willing to speak her mind. 
Ziva feigns innocence, the best she knows how to. “But what?”
Abby pouts. “There’s a but, I can tell.”
No one is immune to the Abby pout. Ziva relents, sitting down in one of the chairs and motioning for Abby to join her.
“It is just that Hanukkah is not very big in Israel.” 
If Ziva were home right now, she would probably be helping to light Rivka’s family menorah, saying her blessings, and (Ziva’s personal favorite) having latkes and sufganiyot. When she was eight, Ziva had eaten so many sufganiyot that she’d sworn off them forever. Naturally, her family had never let her live that down. They had been a family once, before Eli had left and Tali had died and Ari had become someone she no longer recognized.
“It’s not?” Abby’s voice pulls Ziva out of her memories.
“No. It is a big deal in America because Christmas is such a big deal. Children see all their friends getting presents and they want them too. In Israel, Hanukkah is about family.” Sure, there are parties and festivals, but none of this extravagant gift-giving she has seen in America. Ziva has nothing against adapting traditions, but the American celebrations hold nothing of value to her.
Abby’s face falls, and Ziva mentally kicks herself. “It is lovely, though,” she says, reaching past Abby to dim the lights again. There. Without the garlands in sight, it reminds her much more of the Hanukkahs she remembers.
“I know I wasn’t always… the nicest to you,” Abby says, and Ziva laughs, because that is the understatement of the century. “But… I really like you, Ziva David, and even if I didn’t, you’re part of our family now.”
Family. That’s what they are, aren’t they? Though they are her team by definition, the word team can’t possibly encompass all they meant to her. 
Gibbs is the only one who knows her secret and the only one she would have trusted with it. Tony and McGee are always by her side, ready to insult or defend her at a moment’s notice. Ducky is an ever-friendly ear and Jimmy a kind presence. Ziva includes Jenny in her count as well, though she isn’t sure Jenny would have included herself; she is always watching out for them, playing the games none of the rest of them want. And here is Abby, so different from Ziva in almost every regard, trying to make her feel at home.
If she were more sentimental, Ziva would call it a miracle. She had lost her first family a long time ago, even if Eli and Rivka are still alive. That a group of people are willing to accept her, to give her a second chance, makes her heart swell and her eyes water in an utterly un-Ziva fashion.
A tear must escape her eye, because before she knows it Abby is handing her a tissue. Ziva takes it, only slightly mortified, dabbing at her eyes until they’re dry. 
“I am okay,” she says in response to Abby’s unasked question. 
Wordlessly, Abby pulls a square box out of her pocket and slides it across the table. It’s wrapped in patterned paper, sparkling white stars against a midnight blue sky. Ziva slides a careful finger under the seam of the paper, trying not to rip it. 
Inside is a plain white mug. Ziva picks it up with two hands, spinning it around to reveal a simple Z printed on it.
“Thank you, Abby,” she says sincerely, before chuckling. “Now Tony will not be able to pretend he accidentally forgot which coffee mug is his.”
Abby’s smile drops, and she looks as though she might cry. She opens and closes her mouth a few times, but no sound escapes. Ziva waits patiently, because getting information out of Abby when she’s not ready to speak is like trying to get an internationally wanted criminal to talk.
When she finally speaks, Ziva has to strain to hear her. “I’m sorry… it’s just that the way you said that reminded me of Kate. I miss her.”
“Kate sounds like a wonderful person,” Ziva says. When she had first joined, that might have been a lie. She had quickly gotten sick of hearing how amazing Kate had been, of trying to measure up to a ghost. Now, Ziva knows that she can’t try to be anyone but who she is, and she only wishes she could have met the woman who apparently was more than a match for Tony.
“She was,” Abby responds, and now she’s the one who’s crying.
Ziva leans across the table, letting Abby hold her hands while she sobs. After a little while, Abby lets go, wiping her eyes with another tissue pulled from the depths of her lab coat. Absent-mindedly, Ziva picks up the matchbox lying by the hanukkiah, turning it over in her hands.
“Do you know the story of Hanukkah?” she asks. Abby shakes her head, eyes still watery. Ziva smiles, letting her head fill with memories of Hanukkahs past, she and Tali and Ari all clamoring to be the one to tell the story.
“Well,” Ziva says, striking a match against the box and using the match to light the shammash, the tallest candle in the hanukkiah. She removes the candle from its holder, using it to light the first and second candles, before returning it to its place, Abby watching her raptly the entire time. “Although I could begin in many, many places, our story really starts with a temple in the city of Jerusalem...”
tags: @robins-gf, @chmpgneprblms
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rockin-robinz · 4 years
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Eighty Robins in Eighty Days
45/80: Matt McGinnis as Robin (Prime Earth/Futures End)
Matt McGinnis is the younger brother of Terry McGinnis aka Batman Beyond, he often helps Terry out in any way he can whether it be from behind the computer back at the bat cave, or getting out in the field to do his part. Matt would sneak around the Batcave watching old training videos of Bruce Wayne and Damian Wayne being the Dynamic Duo. On a particular mission, his brother is in trouble and Bruce Wayne is out of commission, so he grabbed a hammer and smashed the display case for the Robin suit and took off to save his brother. Later Matt is given his own high tech Robin suit stated by Bruce to have offensive and defensive capabilities equal to Terry's suit. Sources:
Batman Beyond (Vol. 5) #30 by Evan "Doc" Shaner (Image)
Batman Beyond (Vol. 5) #18 by Dan Jurgens (Quote)
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
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Pssst. If your frigid Arctic take is that everything with Blockbuster and Tarantula could have been avoided if Dick had swallowed his pride and asked for help, this is literal victim blaming. As usual.
First off, pride wasn’t the reason Dick didn’t ask for help, trauma was. Blockbuster was systematically killing everyone associated with Dick and weirdly, the guy with a massive guilt complex about people dying because of him didn’t want to put more people he loved in the crosshairs.
Second, most of the people Dick would normally turn to for help were unavailable anyway. Donna and Lilith were literally dead. Wally, Garth and Roy had pretty consuming storylines of their own at that time and/or kids to worry about, like you think DICK GRAYSON in his frame of mind wasn’t thinking “if I call Roy for help and he dies, Lian will be left without her father”? Tim wasn’t even Robin at the time as he was ‘retired’ for the time being due to his attempts to abide by his dad’s wishes and build a relationship with Jack.
Third, Dick literally DID turn to people. The night Firefly burned down his circus, he went to Babs and she let him stay but told him he had to go the next morning because they’d just broken up and she wanted to be there for him but she couldn’t, not right now.
The last time before Blockbuster that Dick was in major trouble in Bludhaven, he was framed for murder and arrested, and Bruce came down to Bludhaven...solely to tell him he couldn’t be Nightwing while trying to clear his name in case the investigation into Dick Grayson led the police to his secret identity and from there to the rest of the Bats. And then Bruce just up and left, not even because Dick asked him to or said he could handle it on his own, he just...that was all he was there to say and then bye, so combine that with the fact that Dick and Bruce had barely even talked since Last Laugh when Dick killed the Joker and Bruce left saying he had to figure out how to deal with what he’d done on his own and gosh, I can’t think of any reason Dick might not have thought he couldn’t turn to Bruce right then, yup must have just been his pride.
Fourth, almost immediately after the crap with Blockbuster, Dick went to Gotham WITH Tarantula to help in the gang war there, and despite the fact that everyone noticed he was out of sorts and the fact that he was clearly not comfortable around this companion of his aka his rapist, the world’s greatest detective and his super observant ex girlfriend had too many other priorities to even try and do something about the fact that he was clearly not okay, even though they at the very least knew about everything that had happened to his circus, apartment building, all the people who had died around him recently, etc. Super fascinating how the go to is ALWAYS what Dick SHOULD have done versus what literally ANY of the other people in his life should have done or taken notice of or shifted priorities to help him from like....the second they noticed he was very visibly being targeted down in Bludhaven and every aspect of his life was being systematically attacked.
Fifth, it’s literal victim blaming and just freaking don’t do it? You guys are livid at the very suggestion anything is ever most of the other Batfam’s faults, but time and time and time again, you look at Dick’s traumas and always manage to find SOME angle by which gosh, all of that nastiness could have been avoided by him if he just wasn’t so prideful. Or stubborn. Or promiscuous. Or flighty. Or angry. Or any of the other several dozen normal human traits everyone displays at some point or another but you just can’t seem to help from linking up HERE, with this character specifically, as the root causes of all his own traumas and tragedies. They’re never external, never just the result of people doing fucked up things to him, they’re always always always....something Dick could have avoided if he’d just used his gosh darn brain for once and put his ego on hold.
It’s groooooooooss.
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ailec-12 · 4 years
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Don't ask me what crossed my mind to think of this, but 12 from the touch prompts... with Robin and Zelena in your Greenie series. 💚
Thank you for this prompt, it was a really cool challenge! It turned out a lot longer than I’d planned and I hope you like it. 💚
Also posted on AO3.
12. Leaning on a Shoulder + Anatomy of a Home (aka the Greenie series)
"Robin, I... I need– I need help."
Zelena feels pathetic as soon as she says it. Fortunately, she is on the phone, so Robin cannot see frustration and shame warring on her face. She shuts her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. She reminds herself she has no other option.
"Zelena? Where are you?"
"At the animal shelter. Bring whatever you need to... to pick a lock."
"Are you all right?" There is obvious concern in his voice and Zelena squeezes her eyes shut more tightly for a very different reason.
"Yeah, I am. Just, um, hurry up?"
She cringes a little at her own hesitance, but Robin only reassures her that he will be there before hanging up. She sighs and looks up at the vandalized front door of the shelter.
They have the right to be angry, Zelena firmly tells herself once more. She has terrorised these people, has hurt them. Regina and Henry and the rest of their family may have either forgiven her or just been willing to turn the page and behave decently, but no one is forced to do so. Enduring their anger is part of her atonement. Regina has not told her, but Zelena thinks her sister feels similarly.
A few minutes later, and to her immense relief, Robin finally arrives. He comes on foot, since only Regina owns a car in the family. Although driving is hard, Zelena would like to have a car when she finally gets the hang of it.
"Hey, what's the matter?"
He looks her up and down, as if to make sure she is okay. She thinks she may be blushing slightly, but tries not to think of it in order to avoid making it worse.
"Someone had fun last night," she says, shrugging and pointing at the lock.
"Is that glue?" he asks. His eyes match the surprise in his voice and she offers a curt nod as she keeps her own eyes on the door.
Zelena would like to believe she does not have to feel ashamed of finding herself in this situation —after all, she is not the one stopping people from doing their jobs—, but in a way it is her fault. Surely the Saviour does not deal with this shit.
"Can you... Uh, can you fix it?"
He strokes his beard, pensive.
"I can't pick it like that. I think you'll need to replace it."
She bites her lip. She does not want to call either of the two locksmiths in Storybrooke —they are a couple that cannot stand her. Robin notices her reluctance and puts a hand on her arm without warning. Right away, she flinches the slightest bit. She knows she is safe with him, but her body seems to forget sometimes. She looks him in the eye, smiling half apologetically, half embarrassedly. Overall, she is grateful to have him here. He smiles back.
"Can't you... Can't you fix it with magic?" He is hesitant to ask her and she feels even more ridiculous.
"I... don't know? I don't use it that much. It gets out of control sometimes. What if I blow it up?"
He chuckles, so she relaxes somewhat.
"You've got a point. I'm sure Regina wouldn't mind helping out, though."
It takes a moment for her to gather her courage before speaking up.
"I'd rather not tell her," she says quietly, looking away again.
"She won't mind," he repeats, but she shakes her head.
There is a long silence while they both think of something else to say. Robin manages to find his words first.
"So, I guess there's only one thing left to try."
He lets her go and points at the lock. Zelena really, really hates having no choice. She sighs.
"You're right. Stay away, just in case..."
"You blow it up, I know." His smile grows wider. "You can do this."
His confidence is both uplifting and nerve-wrecking. Her hand shakes when it hovers over the lock. Her magic does not come as readily as before, it is not as obedient.
Zelena's own fear might be playing a part in this, so she pushes the feeling away and focuses on the substance stuck in the lock.
(She is very tempted to draw on her anger, to picture herself viciously unleashing some revenge on those brats, but she pushes down that feeling, too, burying it deeper than any other.)
She does get most of the glue out of the lock eventually, but it is a very slow, frustrating process. She needs all her discipline to keep magic under her command and, when she is finally done, she feels like weeping because she used to be so powerful and this is what she has been reduced to. However, instead of dwelling on these thoughts, she turns around and makes sure to put on her best face.
“There, all done,” she announces, conveying the barest hint of pride in her voice. “I’m so sorry for having bothered you, Robin.”
“It was no bother,” he assures her.
She forces herself to widen her smile, wondering if she will be able to convince him to keep this silly secret between the two of them.
“Still, thank you for coming. Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“Sure.”
She used to carry a thermos bottle with her, but Tink came by one day and decided it would be much more convenient to have a little machine to heat water and make coffee as well. Zelena has yet to learn whether it was the fairy or her sister the one to buy it, but the machine was in her office the following day.
There is a slightly awkward silence while they wait for the water to boil. She longs to pretend to be busy by arranging the papers on her desk or visiting the animals in her care, but she knows a conversation must happen. She lets out a short sigh.
“We agree Regina doesn’t need to hear about this, right?”
“There’s nothing bad about her knowing, Zelena. This wasn’t your fault.”
‘Wasn’t it?’ she wants to shoot back, but she bites her tongue.
“Of course,” she says instead. “It doesn’t matter, though, so I don’t want her to make a big deal out of it.”
“You mean she’ll want to talk about it.”
Zelena rolls her eyes, as if it were not the exact thing she would like to avoid.
“She should know,” Robin goes on after a moment, “in case it doesn’t stop in a jammed lock.”
For some reason, she gets fed up with his concern right at this point. She clenches her jaw and stalks towards him.
“Contrary to popular opinion, I’m an adult and I do not need someone else’s protection. I don’t want Regina to know and that’s all.”
As usual, Robin fails to rise to the bait. He walks past her and takes the cups with hot water out of the machine. Displaying absolute calmness, he puts a teabag in each cup and hands out one to her. She does not take it.
“Regina won’t blame you. She can probably understand what you’re going through,” he insists, quite stubbornly in her opinion. Frowning, he leaves her cup on the desk. “You don’t wish to be understood.”
“I don’t deserve it and I can live with that,” she retorts, making his frown deepen.
“Zelena, it was just a prank, not a divine punishment.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” she cannot help exploding at last. Of all the thieves, her sister had to fall in love with the goodiest two-shoes Zelena has ever met. It is frankly infuriating. “I am aware I deserve worse and I’m aware it’s thanks to Regina I was left off the hook. I can stand a few pranks, I’m not going to break down.”
Yet, there is a catch in her voice and her eyes sting. When she attempts to dry her unshed tears, they spill out, so the only thing she can do is cover her face with her hands. She lets out a quiet breath —sob— before she feels someone else embrace her. It is very different from Regina’s or Henry’s hugs, but also just as warm. For less than a second, she lets herself get lost in the feeling. Then, she recovers her good sense.
She makes a feeble attempt to push him away, but he says ‘It’s all right’ and she loses the battle before starting to fight it. She lets her forehead rest on his shoulder and takes a shuddering breath. Another sob gets out.
“Please, don’t tell her,” she whispers. She feels his sigh rather than hear it.
“I won’t,” he concedes. He lets the silence sink in for a while, as long as she needs to get her bearings. “I promise I won’t. Regina’s not the only person you can talk to, though. You can always come to me. You’ll find no judgement.”
Against her better judgement, she nods against his shoulder, allowing herself to rest there for a little bit longer. She may be unable to meet his gaze, but she hopes he knows she accepts and appreciates his support anyway.
Fancy a touch prompt?
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carmenignisx · 4 years
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Is that (MILA KUNIS)? NO, it’s (CARMEN IGNIS). She is (500+) years old and a (HYBRID DRAGON/WARLOCK). She is + FUNNY, + INTELLIGENT, + BOLD. But she is also - SLY, - CRAFTY, - HOT HEADED. 
✷hazel eyes ✷long brown hair ✷smol bean, like 5ft 3″ / 162cm ✷married ✷dragon-warlock ✷con artist aka robin hood complex 
✘ to briefly explain “how” she is what she is. she’s the result of one of the few covens who dabbled in experiments to create the perfect powerful being. presumably as a weapon. teamed up with another coven in hopes of raising these babies to, ahem, breed and create a new-age coven. in other words, the perfect weapon. ✘ that’s pretty much all she knows because once she found out that she wasn’t born out of love, she lost control and blacked out. when she came around, she was sat in the middle of a village that was now burned to ash. so from the age of eight she was on her own.  ✘ her younger life is a bit of a blur now, not that she chooses to dwell on it regardless. all she knows is that there was a point in her twenties when she realised she had stopped ageing, that her power kept growing but at the very least she had learned how to control herself ( to the best of her ability, anyway. ) ✘ she pretty much travelled alone, posing as someone she wasn’t in order to get close to the things she wanted. usually, it was a case of stealing from sleazy rich men, sometimes they didn’t even have to be sleazy. she’s instantly attracted to anything that shines and has safe places around the world that hold her possessions. ✘ two centuries ago, she met @marcelignis and the familiarity of him was something she could sense from the start. she wouldn’t have argued it was fate that brought them together. fleecing a corrupt town mayor for what he’s worth seems more appropriate. if it was anyone else she supposed they would have been a rival but hey, don’t blame a girl for being curious about him. ✘ he was attractive. no, screw that, he was handcrafted by god himself. naturally, she wanted to know more about him. there was a lot of banter and even a few pranks that were thrown back and forth, like they were toying with each other, testing each others abilities or even just their patience. well, at least it worked out well, two centuries later and his poor ass is still stuck with her.  ✘ they’re a pretty epic double act, a perfect team that knew when to push the limits and when to hit the breaks. there was a time not long back where they almost took it too far. fake names that were just two of the many they’d had across the years. and they would have been long forgotten if it wasn’t for the way the police decided to tie them to a string of murders to go along with the burglaries. bonnie & clyde. she still scoffs a little when she hears people reference them now. ✘ little do they know that actually, she and marcel used magic to compel two no good people into believing that they were bonnie and clyde, thus, it became their faces that ended up in the newspapers, their backgrounds that are plastered all over the internet. it was a narrow escape, how awkward would it be for immortals to be famous in any capacity. ✘ personality-wise, carmen is very loyal. which might sound funny given that she’s a thief, but if she considers you a friend then there’s nothing she wouldn’t do for you. you want the hope diamond stealing for your birthday? consider it done. she’s not typically a jealous person but she does get considerably pouty when she sees other women hanging around her man. depending on how cheap and slutty she thinks the girl looks depends on whether she stays silent with a raised brow or cracks a glass over their head. she’s unpredictable sometimes but she always says, she trusts him, it’s other people she doesn’t trust.  ✘ straying a little away from the myths, carmen actively wears more silver than she does gold. most of her gold collections are exactly that, collected into safe places or displayed around her home. she prefers the way diamonds and silver shine. ✘ there’s definitely a mean streak in her, some would argue just plain cruel, or even evil. if that side of her ever comes out there’s usually a damn good reason she would argue makes it justified. she’s one scary bitch when she’s got her murder head on, believe it.  ✘ being thrown back from the year 2032 has her feeling a little put out. whilst it’s great for foreknowledge, she’s not exactly loving the way she and marcel seem to have been fated to be thrown into whatever war is brewing. what exactly is the source of it all expecting them to do? if it comes down to it, the only team she plays for is hers and marcels. she’d save him before anyone else, even if it meant the lot of them fried. 
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