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#compared to what some people think isn't enough now
azrielsbxtch · 3 days
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People saying SJM will write Elucien because she's not going to make poor baby Lulu (PBL) suffer again because he's one of her favorites ....
My brother in Christ.
They're ALL her favorites. It's her fucking book. They're her fucking characters.
Now if we were going to RANK her favorite characters, I still don't even think Lucien would make top 5. He's not a part of the IC for a reason - and considering that SJM has chosen to write about them over him - tells us enough about the ranking of her faves. It's always going to be:
1. Rhys / Feyre
2. Nesta
3. Azriel
4. Cassian
5. Elain
6. Amren
7. Mor
8. Lucien
And honestly placing Lucien at 8 is still debatable. His storyline has been reduced more and more with every single book. I'd say he was definitely up there with Feyre in Book 1 - but since ACOMAF his character quality and page persona has declined steadily. Significantly.
Idk if y'all have ever read a book or written anything - but typically a writer who likes a certain character ... writes about that character. A lot more than she writes about her other characters. That character might've started as a minor one or even background character - but the writer likes them so much they find a way to put them in the page more, finds a way to work them into the story. See what SJM did with Ithan Holstrom in CC. With Fenrys. They were introduced as minor characters and then became a big part of the story.
The exact OPPOSITE is happening with Lucien. It's not a slow burn - it is erasure.
If he is such a favorite - where is he?
Also what makes you think SJM isn't going to make her favorites suffer? Y'all saw what Aelin went through. Saw what Rhys went through. I don't like to compare traumas - but Lucien's trauma pales in comparison to some of the other harrowing backstories we've seen in ACOTAR itself. Genuinely I think whatever Rhys, Elain, Nesta, Azriel, Emerie, Gwyn went through is far worse than what Lucien went through. Not saying he didn't suffer - but the argument that SJM wouldn't have him lose his mate because she likes him is so ridiculous.
Let's stick to the books. And I mean the actual text in the books - not farfetched headcanons and fanfics and theories and claims of extrapolation "foreshadowing".
SJM can change her mind and her opinions and her interviews and her Pinterest boards. What she can't change is the story she's laid out for 4 books now. What she can't change is the direction her characters are taking her in and the words she's already written.
Why is this random person ranting about Lucien in my inbox I am so confused are you off your medication? Like did I ask?
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thevalkyriesshadow · 3 days
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People saying SJM will write Elucien because she's not going to make poor baby Lulu (PBL) suffer again because he's one of her favorites ....
My brother in Christ.
They're ALL her favorites. It's her fucking book. They're her fucking characters.
Now if we were going to RANK her favorite characters, I still don't even think Lucien would make top 5. He's not a part of the IC for a reason - and considering that SJM has chosen to write about them over him - tells us enough about the ranking of her faves. It's always going to be:
1. Rhys / Feyre
2. Nesta
3. Azriel
4. Cassian
5. Elain
6. Amren
7. Mor
8. Lucien
And honestly placing Lucien at 8 is still debatable. His storyline has been reduced more and more with every single book. I'd say he was definitely up there with Feyre in Book 1 - but since ACOMAF his character quality and page persona has declined steadily. Significantly.
Idk if y'all have ever read a book or written anything - but typically a writer who likes a certain character ... writes about that character. A lot more than she writes about her other characters. That character might've started as a minor one or even background character - but the writer likes them so much they find a way to put them in the page more, finds a way to work them into the story. See what SJM did with Ithan Holstrom in CC. With Fenrys. They were introduced as minor characters and then became a big part of the story.
The exact OPPOSITE is happening with Lucien. It's not a slow burn - it is erasure.
If he is such a favorite - where is he?
Also what makes you think SJM isn't going to make her favorites suffer? Y'all saw what Aelin went through. Saw what Rhys went through. I don't like to compare traumas - but Lucien's trauma pales in comparison to some of the other harrowing backstories we've seen in ACOTAR itself. Genuinely I think whatever Rhys, Elain, Nesta, Azriel, Emerie, Gwyn went through is far worse than what Lucien went through. Not saying he didn't suffer - but the argument that SJM wouldn't have him lose his mate because she likes him is so ridiculous.
Let's stick to the books. And I mean the actual text in the books - not farfetched headcanons and fanfics and theories and claims of extrapolation "foreshadowing".
SJM can change her mind and her opinions and her interviews and her Pinterest boards. What she can't change is the story she's laid out for 4 books now. What she can't change is the direction her characters are taking her in and the words she's already written.
Hi anon
I hope you feel better after getting that off your chest... sometimes you just gotta rant
BUT
I would like to make a few points
1. I do write stories (beyond fanfics) and yes I have favorite characters I write but if I spent as much time writing about a character as SJM did with Lucien, that character has a story to be told. He's connected to many characters in the story and is mated to one of the Archeron sisters (who the stories being told in ACOTAR are ultimately about). To say he is being written off the page just because he wasn't as prevalent in ACOSF for example is a bold statement (he really had no ties to Nesta's storyline so it makes sense he wasn't in it as much) but a storyline he is connected to? Elain's - whose book we will inevitably get.
2. I don't like how you say his trauma is not as bad as the others. It's not okay to compare people's traumas. What might not seem like an emotional/psychological/physical traumatic event to one person doesn't mean it's not devastating to another.
3. SJM can absolutely change what she's already written... She is the god of ACOTAR afterall. She can do as she pleases. A perfect example of this is when she retconned that Azriel was present in Sangravah when it was attacked. Making him the first one there, the one to slaughter all the soldiers in one room, and save Gwyn from further harm. Previously, we were to believe he was just informed, but SJM changed that with what she wrote in ACOSF.
Hope you have a wonderful day anon!
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em-dashes · 1 year
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now that suddence is out to betas i'm oscillating between getting more and more self conscious and overthinking about everything that might be wrong with the story vs. knowing that is literally THE POINT of betas and i can't in good conscience let my story slide out into the world with a bunch of faults i didn't catch simply because i was too close to it
#em dashes#DON'T GO EASY ON ME I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING#i just need all my betas to know that I KNOW my story isn't perfect in its current state and that's exactly why it's out for critiques#i think there's always some part of you that wishes the critiques will come back squeaky clean. no notes! absolute perfection!#bc then you'd feel proud! you'd feel like you know what you're doing! like you're a PRO!!#however i gotta remind myself that not even professional writers can crank out perfect stories right away#they all have editors and peer critiques to help them#and i have to be careful about equating critiques as personal failures#because they aren't!! they're there to help!!!#anyway. enough venting for now#it's been a while since i got peer critiques so it's a little unnerving lol#but also also i just saw a very good breakdown of an episode of buffy that deals with grief#and i couldn't help comparing it to suddence which also deals with grief#and thinking 'wow. why didn't i do this. why didn't i do that. am i doing this all wrong'#AHH! writing is a very scary profession sometimes#but to be proud of myself for a second#i've never been so confident as to even show so many people my writing. let alone to receive critique on it#it's so strange to think there was a time where i kept all my writing bottled up and didn't talk about it to anyone even on tumblr#i began posting in 2018. that's not that long ago. that's only five years#and yet it feels like a billion years ago. i was still in university. suddence didn't even exist yet#wow. time is so weird
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queeraak · 1 year
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i must confess that fall is the worst season in my opinion and i don't know why people like it. everything bad about the world is represented in october - november
#seth.txt#1. the colors are dingy most of the month and aren't that great. worst shade of orange#2. sickness is increased as it is cold and flu season. when i get sick it's always fall or winter#3. seasonal depression increases as the days get shorter and shorter. why do you people like when it's dark at 5pm#4. the food is lame. people who love fall usually love the food or thanksgiving which is just mash potatoes and pumpkin which both suck ass#5. the holidays in winter at least make it worthwhile because christmas and new years are both objectively better aesthetically#6. halloween feels really superficial like no one truly celebrates it anymore on a widespread level. should be hyped up like christmas#7. idc what people say dealing with cold is way worse than dealing with heat if you have ac. i am always cold so colder = always bad#8. all plants dying is so ugly to look at and there are no little birds and animals around during the fall which makes the depression worse#i could think of reasons for hours i think i have explained my manifesto well enough for now#actually hold on adding another amendment.#9. having to wear long sleeves pants and socks indoors is torturous and disgusting to where battling the coldness is the lesser evil#10. the sky is always fucking grey for some reason fucker that isn't beautiful esp when it's not even raining#11. you can't go swimming or eat ice cream as easily. name any fall activity that remotely compares to swimming in the summer you're wrong
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cosmik-homo · 1 year
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Lying in bed crying about Alfred's fucked up identity situation
#usually im like. Understandable But Still Yuck about his Samah Apologisms in the epilogue#but i read a quite good Luke Grappling With Vader fic and while not directly applying it did make me think#about how much i feel it's because of how Alfred still measures himself compared to Samah#in a fucked up way.#and how so much of his Issues- this is about the serpent mage emotional abuse but also In General i think he definitely#has some childhood baggage that the whole Last Sartab This Is All On You thing only. Enhanced into the complete. emotional ruin we meet#but all of that. All Of That is about Inadequacy it's about not being Enough in a society that justified it's crimes by its perfection#and then he detaches himself from that and chooses to align himself with the patryn. and.#you know. like. the sartan goverment did do awful things and v much everyone is complicit in privilege ways#but People Are People is the point of the series but the point of the series is also it takes time to drill that point in and this kind of#trauma and hesitance of the oppressed group is v reasonable and worth respecring in some ways.#you know realisticlly he's gonna have to smile politely while people accept his existence as An Outlier To The Still Ancient Enemy cuz#'you aren't really... (vauge handwave at all his stuff) A Real Sartan' and he isn't going to DEFEND HIS EMOTIONAL CONNECTION TO SARTANESS#TO A BUNCH OF LABYRINTH DWELLERS HE'S BARELY GONNA SEE AGAIN.#like even if he wasn't World's Most Confrontation Averse- who would do that#so he's just. yknow. forced to qgain internalize in a way this basic fear or belief he has#and even if he can now build himself a self worth that isn't tied to being A Good Sartan- and he can and he will-#that's still tearing something away so much from a new direction?#AND DON'T GET ME STARTED HOW THIS. LITERALLY CONNECTS WITH HAPLOS CORE CHARACTER CONCEPT#MAN WHO SHREDS HIMSELF TO BITS TO BE WHAT HIS SOCIETY WANTS A PATRYN MAN TO BE AND NOTHING MORE#AND. (gender redacted) who CAN'T. who is too much of all the wrong things but too little of the right ones-#actually no that's the goddamn serpent mage he IS a sartan ideal but#he isn't Granted that.#idk. he's just. his home is a person because they are literally so woven together into one story#but also. haplo very much gets his own community still belonging in and his love interest and. and Alfred just kind of has this.#both worlds and neither situation.#& hes disabled and effeminate and His People are gone and his people are right across the street and may or may not be inventing new slurs#for him.#OH AND HE GETS A GOOD PERFECT USEFUL BODY HE ISN'T SUPPOSED TO OVERUSE OR GET ADDICTED TO THE SOCIAL ACCEPTANCE OF.#just. how do you expect him to believe Samah was wrong about him if everyone agrees- he just Can't Be Enough?
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luetta · 2 months
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idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.
some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.
so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.
before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'
so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.
this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.
it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.
it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.
another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.
and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.
but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.
crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.
a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.
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ambrosiagourmet · 7 months
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I've been thinking about Laios' succubus lately. Mulling it over a bit.
Because I've seen these pages brought up a fair bit, but almost entirely in the context of shipping (on all sides, really). And I really want to understand what they are doing for the story beyond that.
When I went back to reread the scene and section, a few things caught my interest: the way Laios responds to both forms of his succubus, the themes of the volume the chapter is found in, and the other events of the chapter itself.
So let's dive into those three things, and what I think they say about the succubus scene's purpose.
Laios is never fully frozen by the succubus
So. If you compare Marcille and Chilchuck's reactions...
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to Laios':
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There is a difference. Sure, the basics may look the same once it turns into Scylla Marcille, but even then, it functions differently.
Chilchuck and Marcille are completely frozen once they catch sight of their succubus. Izutsumi, as well, isn't able to look away, and completely freezes up once her 'mom' starts talking to her. As Chilchuck describes, "just looking at them makes you unable to move."
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And yet, Scylla Marcille has to actively convince Laios to comply. He even looks away from her at one point!
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Laios accepts this succubus, but he is never actually helpless to it in the same way. Taken in? Convinced? Sure, at least enough to let things happen that he probably should question more than he does. But magically compelled? Not really. Not the same way as everyone else is. So that's interesting. But let's move on for now.
2. Volume 9 is all about drive and desire
I don't often look at chapters within the context of the volume they are included in, but I think there's some really fun things to be found with that perspective in mind.
For one, volume 9 starts with an exploration of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
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And ends with a question of what desire brought Laios to the dungeon:
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It's also very concerned in general with questions of why people do what they do. Why they are in the dungeon, why they are with the people they are with, why they stay, what they fight for.
In addition to Laios, we see it with Marcille...
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Izutsumi
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Kabru
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and Mithrun
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Hell, we even get it for the demon!
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It's certainly not the only volume concerned with desires and motives, but it is particularly focused on these ideas.
The succubus scene fits quite well into the ongoing question about desires, especially Laios' desires. It is even placed at an interesting spot within the volume. The volume is six chapters long, and the scene takes place at the start of the 4th chapter. It's almost smack-dab in the middle.
With all this in mind, it is interesting that, with both versions of the succubus Marcille, it's not totally clear which parts of her Laios is rejecting.
The first version of Marcille looks human, but Laios attacks when he identifies her as a monster. The second Marcille looks like a monster, but he seems to believe that she is the real (human)(ish) person that he knows. So is he rejecting the monster at first, and then accepting the person? Or is he rejecting humanity and only interested in the monstrous?
Something to consider as we look at the next point...
3. the rest of the chapter is a seduction, too
This is one of those things that might not be apparent on a first reading, but is crystal clear on a revisit. We see the succubus try and charm Laios over 7 pages, and then see the Winged Lion do the same thing for the next 19.
Much like the succubus, it offers the mingling of monsters and humans. Much like the succubus, it offers belonging.
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(and this is the point where I absolutely must also link this post by fumifooms on the succubus, which has some great ideas on how the scene is informed by Laios' trauma and desire for acceptance!!!)
But, back to the point. The Winged Lion wants to feed on Laios just as much as the succubus did, and it uses similar strategies to try and make that happen. Though this chapter isn't really the turning point for the next Lord of the Dungeon (it is Marcille who will, eventually, become the Lion's next victim), it certainly behaves like it is.
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Laios is convinced. The succubus gets its meal. By the end of the volume, the reader begins to understand how concerning his desires are. Together, it is all very good at building up that sense of dread and pending disaster, as we see exactly how and why Laios might just fall into the Lion's open arms and bring about the end of the world.
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So that's the three things I noticed. But there's still something I want to touch on by looking at the way these observations overlap, and what they reveal, together.
As I said, by the end of the volume, you can feel the tension growing. Just as Kabru and Mithrun do, you look back for an answer to the questions that have been built, chapter by chapter: why is Laios here? Where will his loyalties fall? This chapter, and scene, seem to prove the inevitable truth: he will choose the monster, of course. He will choose the seductive, easy power of the Winged Lion.
But the details of what actually happens tell different story: one in which the Lion is wrong.
First, as a reminder - even in Scylla Marcille mode, the succubus never fully entrances Laios. It convinces him, but it doesn't have him completely under its thrall.
Similarly, in the dream, the Lion does convince Laios to embrace the world he is offering. But even within that dream, Laios continues to ask questions that will be vital to him later. It is because of those questions that Laios comes to a new understanding about Thistle.
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And it's this realization that he cites later as part of his reason for refusing the Lion's offer.
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He is thinking through things the entire time, just like he continues to question the succubus even after it turns into Scylla Marcille.
Laios also expresses an interesting reason for why he wants to see the future of this world. He's not just invested because it would mean people liking what he likes, or him getting to spend time with monsters. The thought that comes immediately before his acceptance is about what he wants for monsters and people.
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I don't think it's a coincidence that this statement - "we're living beings that share the same world, but all we can do is keep killing each other" - can apply to the various humans races just as much as it does to humans and monsters. The thing he is thinking about here isn't just a matter of his personal daydreams. It's an idea that underpins every conflict in the story.
Laios caring about how people as well as monsters in this manner is something that the Lion gets wrong every time. Even at the end, he still frames Laios' desires entirely around hating people and loving monsters.
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The Lion has heard him express an opinion about the future of the world! It happened right there in the dream, right in front of him! He just didn't take it seriously, and didn't view it through any lens other than "Laios likes monsters more".
He's convinced that he understands how to get to Laios. Maybe the Lion can't truly see everything, or maybe his vision into everyone's deepest desires has made it hard for him to realize how much choice still matters. That people can, and do, choose which desires to act on, and how to act on them.
Whatever the case, he's wrong about Laios, and the story shows us this over and over again.
After all, look at how the succubus interaction plays out:
A monster uses Marcille to appeal to Laios...
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He realizes that something about the situation is wrong, and rejects her.
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It changes strategies, and makes new offer: to turn him into a monster.
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It also assures him that his friends are, or will be, taken care of.
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He accepts. Or rather, allows the monster to have its way with him.
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But Laios is not as helpless as he initially appears, and what the Lion thinks is a successful seduction also contains the seed of an idea that will allow Laios to later resist him.
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We even get to see Izutsumi playing a similar role in both instances, as the one person fully able to take action in the face to the illusion.
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The story lays out what is going happen, and then explicitly tells us that the demon and the succubus are thematically related.
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The chapter performs a great sleight of hand here - everything about it seems to indicate that Laios is doomed give in to the option to have his deepest desires realized. But if you look closer, it also contains the evidence that he won't. There's a lot more going on for him.
Yes, he still falls for obvious tricks. He is still extremely into monsters, and he still doesn't feel like he fits in with other people. He may, deep down, crave to surrender to the monstrous - to let it absorb him. But he questions more than he seems to. He considers more than people realize. He cares so much more than anyone gives him credit for.
And I think this is part of why we see the succubus called back to so many times, especially with the wolf head addition to his Monster Form, which he specifically added due to his encounter with the Scylla Marcille.
This all stays with Laios. It doesn't just foreshadow the path of the story, it is fundamental to how and why he walks that path. It's not about him choosing monsters, and it's not about him choosing people. It's about how he considers both, and cares about both.
And it's about the forces that think they already know his answer. Mithrun and Kabru. The Winged Lion. The succubus.
It's about how they are wrong.
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tobiasdrake · 7 months
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*deep breath* Okay. Here we go.
I don't think the Netflix Avatar show likes women very much. It's a great show for fans of Aang, Sokka, Zuko, and Iroh specifically. All four of those characters get a ton of great material. In fact, it's super great for Sokka stans, because the show takes him ultra-seriously and can't go five minutes without one character or another (usually a woman) praising him.
But the way it handles its female cast is troublesome.
Katara
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So, all three of the main trio got some changes made to their stories. They changed Aang's story so that he wasn't running away from his responsibilities; He was just clearing his head and somehow accidentallied himself into a tsunami. Whoopsy-dooodle. Aang did nothing wrong.
They changed Sokka's story so that him being a leader of his people and a great guardian warrior is treated with complete seriousness. Multiple times, characters stop to talk about how brave and noble Sokka is for taking on such an intense responsibility, and tell him to his face what a great warrior and a wonderful leader he is. Also his misogyny is erased.
And they changed Katara's story so that she directly got her mom killed because she sucks at waterbending.
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Katara tries to waterbend to attack the Fire Nation soldier but couldn't manage it, provoking the soldier to start actively searching for her and forcing her mom to fake a waterbending attack and draw his fire. They changed Katara's story so that her bad decision making fucking got her mom killed.
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This is treated with the same level of severity as "Sokka was bullied by mean kids and also his dad doesn't think he's good enough to be a leader."
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"I hoped Sokka would do better but not everyone is meant to have people's lives in their hands," Sokka's dad says of him.
Yeah, you're right, that's totally comparable to watching your mom get barbecued because you tried to waterbend in a situation you shouldn't have and then failed.
In fact, they give Sokka's greatest trauma more weight because it gets examined again with Yue next episode, while Katara actively getting her mom killed isn't brought up again at all. We get traumatized glimpses of it throughout the season leading up to the reveal, but after this scene in episode 5, it never comes up again.
But to be fair, Katara was a child. An event this significant would surely have motivated her, driving her to become the great waterbender she is now, right?
No! Katara sucks at waterbending and needs men who aren't even waterbenders to teach her how to waterbend. She requires instruction from Aang in episode 1 to learn how to waterbend, then from Jet in episode 3 to learn how to waterbend better.
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And unlike the show, her relationship with Aang isn't a give-and-take; Katara doesn't teach Aang a single goddamn thing. He never learns to waterbend. She is a strictly a pupil throughout the whole season. Though she at least gets officially labeled a master in episode 8, so there's that.
In any case, the whole traumatic memory thing isn't even the only time she's directly compared with Sokka. Episodes 3 and 4 see Katara and Sokka bicker over whose morally dubious side character is better. Sokka likes the Mechanist and Katara likes Jet.
Ultimately, Katara is forced to eat crow when Jet turns out to be the worst, while Sokka is vindicated when the Mechanist sees the error of his ways and reforms. But not before two separate arguments where Sokka calls Katara childish and accuses her of acting like a little girl.
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Arguments ultimately resolved when Katara apologizes to Sokka for not adequately respecting his very serious and ultra important role as village protector and leader. Gives him a whole speech about how great and glorious he is. And Sokka... appreciates Katara learning to respect him properly, I guess, because he never offers any similar sentiments back to her.
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The show just... They need you to know how important Sokka is, okay? It's very important that you respect Sokka.
Suki
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Suki suffers tremendously from that whole "Sokka's misogyny was removed" thing. Y'know, because they need something else to do with that episode. The show is deeply aware that Suki is Sokka's love interest, so they just do that right off the bat. Suki falls madly in love with him from the moment they meet, and spends the entire episode making goo-goo eyes and trying to get him to Notice Me Senpai.
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They still do the "Suki Trains Sokka" stuff. But Sokka is a serious, dignified manly man worthy of the deepest respect now, so of course they don't make him wear the Kyoshi uniform. Instead, the main purpose of his training is to allow them to flirt some more. It's less martial arts training and more an excuse to grope each other and near-kiss.
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Suki's just a waifu now. She still fights real good, but all of the stuff that made her relationship with Sokka interesting has been erased.
Yue
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Yue, similarly, leaps straight to shipping from the word go. They write out her fiance, Hahn, by having Yue briefly meet Sokka earlier in the season. She spends one minute talking to him in the Spirit World about Spirit World lore; In that time, she falls so desperately, madly, unfathomably in love with him that she breaks off her marriage to Hahn and devotes herself to waiting for him to one day come to her.
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"Never have I known such joys as that time you let me explain the spirit bear Hei Bei to you. Truly, we are destined to be together for life."
Like with Suki, they go out of their way to have Yue and Sokka already be a ship from the word 'go' so they don't have to spend time developing any kind of meaningful attraction.
They just. They really want you to know that Sokka is the manliest and most desirable man ever to walk this earth. It is very important that you understand how great he is. Women hurl themselves into his arms with zero effort whatsoever, because he's just so goddamn irresistible.
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Fortunately, Hahn is super okay with this turn of events. He's the most chill guy ever, he gets along perfectly well with Sokka, and he completely supports Yue's right to dump him! In the famously misogynistic Northern Water Tribe, no less! What a swell guy. Aren't men swell?
June
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June gets hit with that "rewritten as hollow waifu" stick too, but her eyes are set on Iroh. They rewrote June to be super attracted and flirty towards the man who was her unwanted sexual harasser in the source material. So that's fun.
Also, she barely does anything. Zuko hires her to find Aang, she succeeds, and then she fucks right off out of the show - But she manages to find time to express how unbelievably sexy Iroh is twice during that time.
She seriously just dropped into the show to flirt with Iroh and leave. She is unbelievably inconsequential.
Kyoshi
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And then there's Kyoshi. They really want you to hate Kyoshi. She's constantly shot from below, as if looking down on Aang and the audience. Her voice takes on a demonic echoing reverb at one point as she's screaming at Aang that "THE AVATAR MUST BE A MERCILESS WARRIOR!!!"
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She despises Aang, calling him a coward for running away from his responsibilities - Which, I remind you, is no longer a plot point because they unwrote that flaw from his character. So she's just a complete and utter asshole, shot from the asshole angle, yelling violently at him with asshole sound effects. They want you to despise this woman.
Azula
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Awkwardly, they do not seem to want you to despise Azula.
There's a lot to be said for how Ozai treats Azula in the original show. The way the favoritism he shows her is every bit as cruel and manipulative as the unfavoritism that he shows Zuko. Ozai does not love Azula. He loves the reflection of himself he sees in her eyes, and his encouragement urges her to polish herself to ensure his reflection always shines through.
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This is not that. The show instead erases the favoritism entirely. Ozai doesn't really care one way or another about either of his kids. He plays them against each other, bragging openly to Azula about how great Zuko is and unpleasably writing Azula off as weak and useless.
They've rewritten the dynamic between abusive father and his two abused kids in order to take Azula's pride away. Reimagining her from a gifted prodigy who excels at imitating the toxic behaviors of a father who doesn't truly care for her, to a put-upon overachiever tearing herself in knots to live up to the standards of her unpleasable father.
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This results in a truly wild portrayal of Azula as insecure and jealous of Ozai's seemingly love for Zuko. Here, she is simply a browbeaten child constantly complaining to her friends about how mean her father is and conspiring to get one up over Daddy's Golden Child Zuko.
Which she fails at, because she backs Zhao. Zuko deftly defeats her without even realizing they're in competition.
Conclusion
The season ends well for some of these women. It ends promising that maybe we'll see Katara teaching Aang some day. It ends with Zhao bragging that Ozai just used Zuko to train Azula so maybe we'll see the more confident and misguidedly proud Azula some day. Yue becomes the moon like she's supposed to. June's still out there so maybe she'll get to do something again some day.
Katara gets to fight Pakku and lose, but she looks pretty cool. She gets to fight Zuko and lose, but she looks pretty cool. Azula learns to lightningbend because she's just so mad about Ozai's contempt for her and favoritism for Zuko, which isn't how you lightningbend.
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But promises of future content fall flat when the content that exists is so underwhelming. This season made its feelings on these characters pretty evident, and it's unwise to expect better material from creators who've disappointed you with the material they already made.
The women of Netflix Avatar simply do not get to shine, outside of superficial moments like the "Women of Northern Water Tribe demand the right to fight and then fuck off and don't do anything for the entire rest of the episode" bit.
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"In the midst of battle, we demand that you stop being sexist and give us permission to fight! This is a way better idea than convincing you to teach us to fight before the battle begins."
The characters of this show feel as if they've been reimagined to glorify the boys at the expense of the girls. The boys are treated with a great amount of care. They're dignified and made important movers of the plot, with their rough edges sanded off. While the girls are molded around them.
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gotham-daydreams · 5 months
Text
Not Now (PT. 1)
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Mild General Yandere(ish) Behavior, Mild Arguing, Awkward Tension(?)]
(Sorry, forgive and forget isn't an option anymore. Sort of proofread and lightly edited. If you thought the 2nd chapter was long, you're in for a little treat. A little more focus on Dick this time with some sprinkles of the others, and a bit of Tim in the beginning. Meeting some of the reader's friends now. The 2nd part is longer... and sort of where the 'real' stuff happens, but this part of the chapter is still important imo. Take your time reading this, and remember to take breaks!)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain, @d4mi3nn , @mindscape123, @143637-hrrm, @lilyalone, @ceramic-raven , @bruhfan-3 , @i-thirsty-boi , @yandere-enthusiast , @1mawh0re , @vanessa-boo , @agent-nobody-knows , @myeagleexpert , @waitingforanarchicaddiction , @mottysith , @simpingfor-wakasa , @imjustheretogetalif , @toast-on-dandelioms , @instantmiraclekryptonite , @luvr0cksadie , @littlefeather345 , @generosityheart , @emmbny , @sereinitysmind , @love-zami , @angstylittleb1tch , @kiiyoooo , @andrasia , @aenishas , @gyarukitti , @ash1 , @samohxt2-0 , @books-are-everything , @kurai-hono-blog , @veryrascalbiscuitbagel , @lavender-moony
@vikkus-main, @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhha, @iloveanimeandkpop7, @spacecerealbowl,
If you aren't tagged then I'm sorry! I may have missed you, or tumblr was being weird and it wouldn't work :']
Chapter 3 of this post. Chapter 2. Part 2. [Series Masterlist]
๑۩۞۩๑————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
The night was young when everything went to chaos.
The streets were empty for a change, with no one daring to step outside. With those who once roamed them making an effort to quickly step inside, and wait out the rest of the night. Deciding to be more careful, and not tempt fate one too many times for once.
There was something different about tonight, that much everyone knew, but what exactly was going on was anyone's guess. Something was in the air that made it thicker, and harder to breathe. The atmosphere felt different, and weighed down on the city's residents. No civilian or thug was safe from the sudden change and the effects it had on Gotham. Not to mention that the vigilantes — the people who dared to protect Gotham during its darkest hours — seemed more focused than usual. 
Not in the way where they were more focused on targeting crime in Gotham, and getting rid of her more corrupted and infectious roots, but in some… other way. Like they were focusing on one particular thing, and ignoring everything else in the process. 
What that thing is, no one knew, but most were wary and cautious enough to not get in the way. Unwilling to find out what would happen if they got caught in the crossfire of whatever was happening.
However, this is still Gotham. Where some saw danger, others saw opportunity. So they tried to start something, thinking they could sneak right past the heroes of the city, and fly under their radar more easily compared to previous nights because of how focused they seemed to be on something else. 
Yet, just as the fire began to lit, it was snuffed out.
A heavy stomp stopped the flames from even daring to light, killing it before it could even think to rise. The stomp itself coming down much more swiftly and heavier than before, digging the thugs it hit into the ground. They, the vigilantes who dared to protect Gotham and their citizens night after night, were harsher that way. More brutal than the city had ever seen them before, and that was quick to kill off some sparks that were trying to light. They were quicker, faster, and hit a whole lot harder. As if just wanting to get things over with, and quickly move on. 
It was almost like they were rushing, and whoever thought that wouldn't be entirely wrong.
They just wanted to put all of their time and energy into finding you, but still had half a mind to take care of the crime in Gotham. Since, they'd have to deal with it anyway if they wanted things to go as smoothly as possible. Not to mention the off chance that some thugs could be messing with you, and so they'd get to swoop in and save you if they ever ran into such an altercation. Though, they didn't want to run around and just hope for that chance, so they also chose certain places and people to interrogate and search for. Taking out any and all thugs as well as minor criminals along the way.
As if anyone in their way was doomed from the day they were born, and dared to step foot in Gotham. As if they were cursed the very moment they dared to live in this damned city at all.
Nevertheless, some went after your teachers while others went to search through places you had been to for one reason or another. Whether it was for a performance or otherwise, it didn't matter. The fact that you had been there before was the only detail they cared about.
Finding you, and any information about you came first. Everything else was secondary.
That's why Tim was more focused on trying to find more… personal information about you. From your email, to where you lived, and who your friends are — he wanted to know everything. Even if he already had your phone number, you weren't responding or picking up whatsoever. Which wasn't exactly helping him calm down. 
If only he could track your phone somehow-
["You have any new information yet?"]
Jason suddenly spoke up, making Tim scoff and narrow his eyes at the computer screen he was looking at, as if it was Jason's face. 
How annoying.
"You've asked that question several times in the last fifteen minutes."
["And? Do you have any new information, or what?”]
Tim could only roll his eyes, having been scrolling through so many social media posts and pages, that he had lost count of exactly how many he had gone through or looked at. All he knew was that the total amount was quickly approaching triple digits.
Anything mentioning you caught his interest, and eventually he had found your public account — which, as expected, just held dates for your performances and when a new album or song of yours would be coming out. There were also a few previews of songs you would be playing at the time, had written, or both, and as much as Tim would like to listen to them all, he couldn't. Not right now anyway. He had to focus, for you.
… Though he'd keep it in mind for later.
"Besides more places where Y/n has performed, and when? No. Who could've guessed."
Jason scoffs, which almost made Tim smile a little but he quickly wiped it off his face, focusing again.
["Guys, let's not fight, alright? Just focus on finding Y/n."]
Dick suddenly spoke as well, the sounds of a fight slowly dying down could faintly be heard in the background.
["I'm not trying to start a fight, but y'know what would help with finding Y/n? Some fucking new information."]
["Language!" Dick sighs before continuing, "Look, just calm down-"]
["I am calm."]
["-and focus. We'll find them."]
Jason clicks his tongue, clearly getting upset. 
Tim couldn't say much, seeing as he's already a bit upset himself, but that wasn't really saying much either. All of them were getting progressively frustrated and annoyed, but it was the source of those feelings that were different for each and every one of them. You were a big part of it, of course, but their anger wasn't directed towards you — not for Tim, anyway. Never.
Rather, it's the factors that surrounded you, and maybe their hate and guilt towards themselves, and what they've missed in your life — is what really drove them to try as hard as they are now. They all want to see you, but they have their own separate reasons despite how similar they may seem.
["How the hell can you be so sure? They could be getting killed, or being tortured right now. We need to find them as soon as possible- and you'll never guess what we need for that to happen."]
Tim could practically hear the eye roll in Jason's voice.
["We're all trying to find Y/n as fast as we can! Have a little faith, they can fight-"]
["You don't actually believe that, right?"]
["..."]
Dick's silence spoke volumes, but some of them understood it better than others, because they feel the same way. Fighting in tournaments and in controlled environments is different than fighting out in the streets, and in Gotham no less. No amount of trophies or medals could change their minds on that. Nothing could.
["See? Even you don't believe it."]
[Dick sighs, "Look, let's just keep looking while Babs and Tim grab more information, alright? We have to be patient."]
["That's reeeal rich coming from the guy who rushed out of the fucking Manor, the very second he heard Alfred didn't know where Y/n was. Weren't you the first one to start looking for them in the city?"]
["Y/n isn't going to be dead in the next few minutes, Jason-"]
["You don't fucking know that."]
Again, a brief silence passes as Dick just sighs again.
["Grayson does have a point, Todd."]
Damian spoke up, causing Tim to roll his eyes almost instinctively. Just remembering that he was technically working with the youngest Wayne, made his mood worsen. Though he just pushed his annoyance to the side, and continued his search. 
If it were up to him, he wouldn't be working with half of the family, but that's the thing — he didn't have a choice. None of them really did. Finding you was just that important to them. You, in general, had become that important to them, and in just a few mere hours no less. Even if it left a few of them biting their tongues, and hiding their clear distaste for having to work with certain people. Still, they tried to work together to the best of their ability.
Tim just took a breath, still listening in on the conversation as he scrolls through even more websites and pages. A collection of photos and announcements leading him down a rabbit hole of posts, and finding some accounts that Tim was beginning to think belonged to your friends with how often they commented, the things they'd say, and how you'd respond. Even if the majority of those comments were on older posts, it was still something. So, he dug deeper.
Eventually, he came to the conclusion that your personal account was private. Since, he found one of the accounts he thought belonged to one of your friend's, and they mentioned an account Tim couldn't access. Of course, he hacked it and got in, but there still wasn't anything of use from what he could see. The occasional pictures were nice, even if they didn't show your face too often, but they didn't give him any information he could use to locate you. Hell, even the account itself didn't have a set location listed, and nor did your email. With the only thing he could gather from posts you privated being that you were still in Gotham, at the very least.
However it did seem like you not only didn't post too often, but were careful about what you posted even on your private account. Not to mention who you posted about as well, and how you worded things. As if you knew someone would be looking through your posts someday, and try to find you. As if you knew Tim would be looking through your page, and try to find you by the little bits of information he thought you'd accidentally leave behind. However, all he found was mostly inconclusive with his current objective. The most he could gather was that you either lived in an apartment, were staying with a friend, or settling at various hotels and such just to have a roof over your head. Though not much else.
Sighing, he kept looking.
Just where are you?
["Oh yeah? How so, demon spawn?"]
["Jason-!"]
["L/n knows how to fight, they can surely take care of themself for a few minutes." Damian states. Cutting off Dick, and ignoring the name Jason used to refer to him.]
["Oh, so you believe that?" Jason scoffs.]
["I haven't been given a reason to think otherwise."]
["Right. Okay. So let's say that Y/n isn't dead for a second here. Do you know how many enemies they could potentially have? Or just how many people want them dead? They're known as a Wayne kid, and a musician too, apparently. Anyone could be after their head, or want to squeeze some money out of them for all we know. How are they supposed to fight against threats like that?"]
["And you think they aren't prepared for that? With how much time has passed, I doubt they'd still remain ignorant to such risks. Especially with the career they've chosen as well." Damian scoffs, as if frustrated and offended on your behalf, "No wonder L/n left."]
["Damian!" Dick exclaims, the youngest Robin's words clearly uncalled for.]
["What? You don't truly believe they just ‘ran away’. Do you, Grayson? Even Father doesn't believe such nonsense."]
Tim could only remain silent, but he had suspected as much as well. He didn't particularly enjoy agreeing with Damian, but for a change, it seemed that they were on the same page. 
After all, the more Tim looked, and the deeper his research went, the possibility of you having left, instead of ran away, was turning into a clear certainty. Not to mention that various details he noticed in different posts, seemed to indicate that you had no intentions of coming back home, further proving that thought to be true.
It wasn't really even through posts you made either, but instead posts your friends had made. Various pictures and videos shared on their accounts showing the pieces of your life that the family had missed out on. Showing Tim what he had missed out on. 
From parties and celebrations that were held for your accomplishments and your friend's, to events you attended with them instead of someone from your family. To smaller things such as various study sessions that were held, sleepovers and all the fun activities you did with your friends, to sneaky photos taken of you practicing, and how nervous you used to be behind stage — only to later show how confident and comfortable you had grown in more recent pictures.
He saw your life and nearly every part of it he had missed through someone else's eyes. Through the camera lens that captured how much fun you had, or just how happy you were during the time the photo was taken, or how calm you looked as you set up your instrument and prepared to play it, and how focused you became when you did. Videos that showed you getting into the zone, and displaying your amazing skill and talent that Tim never saw up until now. That the rest of the family never knew about until recently, just because they couldn't put a few seconds to the side to even try and give your music a listen. Just because they never made time for you, and now they were finally paying the price for it. Finally realizing what they had truly lost, and why the occasional, soft melodies that would play at night had stopped entirely.
They had pushed you away, and you left. That was the true reality of the situation.
Yet the others didn't seem to believe it, or maybe refused to. Seeing as no one dared to say anything else for a few moments.
["... Bruce?" Dick hesitantly spoke up, he clearly didn't want to think about it. Let alone consider it.]
A heavy sigh could be heard before Bruce said anything. 
["It's a possibility." His cold, calculated voice pierced through the air. It was less clear, but he didn't seem too fond of the idea either.]
["'Possibility'? Father, you can't be serious-" Damian tries to speak up, only to get cut off.]
["Exactly! Yeah! It's only a possibility, and we won't know for sure unless we find them." Stephanie pitches in, clearly trying to stay a little positive despite the situation.]
["Right…" Dick took a breath, "Well, what do you think, Tim?"]
"..."
Tim's silence said everything, and besides, he was much too focused on a particular thing he managed to find to really be paying attention anyway.
["... Tim?"]
["To think that Drake would be the only other sensible person here. Unbelievable."]
["Look- we don't know for sure, okay? But anyway, how did the interrogation go? Find out anything?"]
The rest of the conversation fell into the background. Tim would roll his eyes, but again, something else had caught his attention, seeing as he found a rather peculiar post.
On one of your friends' accounts, there was a post that showed you and two other people. All of you were wearing formal clothes, and stepping out of a theater that Tim recognized. The person taking the selfie had an arm wrapped around your shoulders, and he noted that they were the owner of the account. The other person was hugging your arm, and did bunny ears behind your head. All of you were smiling, and you looked so… happy..
Tim shook his head, and just focused on the individual hugging your arm. He didn't recognize them, not completely anyway, but noticed how their account was tagged in the post, and how it was an account he hadn't looked into yet. So, he went to their page and scrolled through their various posts. A particular detail already catching his interest as he scrolled down.
This person seemed to spend a lot of time with you…
Not that your other friends didn't, but this person seemed to have more posts with you in them, compared to the other accounts Tim has looked through thus far. There were many photos of you both hanging out, with some other personal posts sprinkled in here and there — but Tim isn't here for that. He's looking for you, so of course he ignored posts that didn't involve you.
Most of the photos showed you both hanging out and doing various activities together. With Tim's heart squeezing the more he saw, and further began to realize just how much of your life he had missed. Though he pushed it all to the side, just as he has been doing this entire time.
He could feel terrible about all the nights you spent away from home, and how no one noticed, later. He could feel guilty about all the time he's wasted not being with you when given the chance after he found you. 
Only then, once you were safe again, once you were home, would he allow himself to feel the full weight of all he hadn't done. Though only when you were home, would he let himself fully see and realize just how little of an impact he had on your life. How he may as well have just been nothing but a figment of your imagination with how often he was present, along with everyone else.
Though, for that, he had to find you first, and he will, so he kept looking.
Eventually, he did stumble across a curious post. One that not only confirmed his suspicions, but also gave the most important piece of information Tim could've found right now.
It was another photo taken without your knowledge, seeing as your back was facing the camera, and a bit of your friend's face could be shown. You were moving some boxes into a building, and your friend seemed to be covering their mouth with their other hand — as if they had been laughing and were trying to cover it up. The caption of the post said how you lost a bet, and now had to move in most of the boxes yourself, but how they'd help you if they saw you genuinely struggling. Only to put in parentheses how viewers of the post shouldn't tell you that. 
However, what caught his interest was the text on the image itself, and what parts of the building were shown.
['First day of moving in!!! Already making my bestie hate me by having them do all of the work♡ They're the best! Look at them go ♡♡'] The text in the photo read, with the building itself having a number, among various other details to suggest that it was an apartment building. 
Tim felt his heart leap to his throat. No way, had he really…? No. No, he couldn't get his hopes up, but he searched for the building by using the other photos your friend had taken that eventually got him a street name and number. It didn't even take him a minute to find the exact building that perfectly mirrored the one in your friend's photo. 
He tried to not work himself up too much, as he didn't waste any time finding the building's security system, and hacking into it. He didn't want to get his hopes up, only to end up disappointed. He didn't want to think about certain things or make up assumptions, only for them to turn up untrue. Yet, his heart rate increased as his hands began to shake despite his efforts.
No way, he thought. No way.
Getting into the system was a breeze, but Tim could hardly focus on that as he immediately looked through the building's security footage. He matched the dates of both the post and footage, and found you bringing in boxes, just as the photo had shown.
He watched you go into the elevator and took note of what floor you went up to, and eventually what apartment you walked into as well once you got there. Tim even observed as you took a second to yourself, sighing before going back down, and doing the process all over again — and even how you had to use the stairs at one point. Seeing as your friend had the bright idea to 'race' you, and see who could get most of the remaining boxes to the apartment in the least amount of time. It was a close tie, and your friend had won, but that's besides the point.
Tim went through other footage just to make sure he had the right information, and knew for certain that you lived in this particular apartment with your friend. For all he knew, you could've just offered to help them move in that day, so he had to be sure. He had to be certain. He couldn't afford to be wrong this time around.
Yet with all the footage he was able to review, and all the dates getting closer and closer to the current day, he was able to confirm it. He saw you walk in and out of that exact apartment on that exact floor, and leave and enter that exact building multiple times. With the amount of time that's passed, it made sense — even if Tim couldn't figure out where you had stayed between the few weeks you had presumably left the Manor and when you moved in with your friend, but that hardly mattered now. What did matter is that he found out where you live, and now had your address.
He almost couldn't believe it, staring at the document where he has been listing all of the information he's gathered from this search. 
Having just finished writing down your address, it all felt so unreal.
He's done it. He's finally done it.
"Holy shit." Tim cursed under his breath, disbelief clear in his voice.
["Language, Tim."]
Bruce's voice suddenly sounded, causing Tim to jump before he quickly tried to settle down. 
"Right, sorry." He apologized, placing a hand over his racing heart. God, that scared him more than it should've.
["Did you find anything?"]
Someone tsked at the question – while Tim just looked at his screen, still processing all that's happened, and suddenly feeling unsure. 
Should he just keep this to himself, so that he could go after you? The others didn't know where you live… they didn't have to know yet. This was a golden opportunity — should he really be giving this up?
["With how long it's been? And all he's been able to find out? We'll be lucky if he even knows if Y/n is dating or not."]
["Jason, c'mon.." Dick tried to pitch in, dragging on.]
["What? I'm just saying-"] 
"I know where Y/n lives." He found himself blurting out, Jason's words irritating him more than they would've. More than they should've.
["... Really? Where are they, Tim?" Dick didn't waste a moment to ask.]
["Yeah, just spill already so we can go get them."]
["Send me their location."]
["Send me the info too!"]
Tim could only sigh, rubbing his temple as he tried to collect his thoughts. Of course he just had to run his mouth before thinking things over. Of course he had to let that little comment get to him. Of course he just had to allow it to get to him so much that it made him give up the most important piece of information he had found out tonight. 
Of course. Just great.
["Guys, I don't think it's a good idea for all of you to just go and see Y/n."]
Barbara finally spoke up, voice calm and collected. 
["Why? I mean, I get that seeing the whole family all at once might be a little overwhelming… but I don't see why a few of us can't go." Dick questioned.]
["Because it's been months since they've last seen any of us? There's a reason why they haven't gone back to the Manor, and still haven't picked up your or Tim's calls."]
["... You're not saying-"]
["I'm just suggesting that maybe only one of you should go to kind of… test out the waters. We can't be sure of anything, and the best way to see how we should go about things is to know how Y/n feels about us first."]
["But we need to bring them home, they're not safe out here." Jason pointed out, already not liking the idea.]
["I know, but we can't just show up and expect them to comply because we're family. For all we know, they might-"]
["Okay! Um, I think we get it now." Stephanie interrupted, the idea already bothering her.]
["Fine, then I'll go." Jason proposed, sounding like he was just finishing up taking out a few thugs, if the faint noises in the background were anything to go by.]
"And why's that? I already have the location, so I'll go." Tim pointed out, already gathering his stuff, preparing to leave as quickly as he could.
["Because if they try anything, I'll be able to stop them. What're you going to do with your scrawny, lanky arms?"]
"They won't fight me, Jason." Tim sighed, as if that was obvious, "and besides, I thought you didn't think they could fight anyway?"
["I don't, but anyone could take you down without even trying."]
["Jay! Ugh," Dick groans, "Look, I'll go, okay?"]
["Oh yeah? And why should you go instead of me?"]
["Because at least I won't scare them off, and if anything happens then I can handle it too."]
["I'm going." Bruce stepped in, speaking as if the decision was already made.]
["If Father is going, then so am I." Damian chipped in.]
["The last person Y/n needs to see right now is definitely you, demon spawn." Jason scoffed.]
["You'll just scare them before you even get a word in, Bruce!" Dick tried to reason.]
["Hey, um, what if I go instead? At least I won't intimidate them or push them to come with us too hard." Stephanie suggested.]
Tim sighed, "Look, I can go and reason with them. Again, I already have the location so it makes sense-"
["No." Bruce said flatly.]
"But why!?"
["Father already said that he and I are going to see L/n," Damian stated, as if it was obvious, with a small scoff. Adding on, "Todd may also have a point."]
"So?! I already have the information, and I already said that Y/n won't fight me!"
["We can't say for sure what they will and won't do," Dick said, trying to deescalate the situation, "like Babs said, it's been a while. We don't know how they'll react or how they feel about us."]
["Is this you just trying to seem reasonable, so you can go see them first?" Jason asked, unconvinced.]
["What?! Of course not-!"]
["You're not really convincing anyone here, Dick…" Stephanie pointed out.]
The back and forth went on for a while. None of them could come to an agreement, as they all want to see you. They all want to be the first to actually meet you, and to experience what they all have found out about you first hand. Even if certain individuals were more guilty of that than others, the point still remained. 
They just want to see you so much, could you really blame any of them?
Barbara sighed at the chaos, the arguments and defenses just getting more and more ridiculous. Eventually, just boiling down to certain people trying to prove that they want to see you more compared to others, and therefore should be the first to see you.
They all miss you, or desperately want to see the idea of you that they had created in their heads, but that wasn't a valid reason for why they should go and see you either. Especially considering how important this meeting would be. Since it would change and determine a lot of things, depending on how well or awful it went.
"Guys, look, just- whoever's the closest to the location should go." Barbara suggested with another sigh, which thankfully caused the constant arguing to stop for now. 
["Fine, alright then." Tim agreed, albeit reluctantly.]
Barbara could only be a little thankful for the cooperation, but slowly grew confused at the silence that followed.
"Tim?" She asked, only to get another sigh as a response.
["It's Dick."]
["What? Really?!" Dick exclaimed, clearly happy at this turn of events.]
["Yes." Tim confirmed with a small groan, the frown evident in his voice.]
"Well, that settles it. Dick, you're going. Tim, send him the address. The right address, okay? We don't need more arguments or complications on this." Barbara says, "Don't push them too hard. The last thing we need is for their opinion of us to get worse, Dick."
["I know, I know. It'll be fine! I've got this!" Dick still sounded a little too happy, before suddenly going quiet.]
Barbara could only hope for the best at this rate.
["Did he seriously just turn off his comm link, and leave?" Jason asked as his voice rose, clearly upset.]
["Seems like it. Can't say I'm surprised since he sounded reallly happy to be able to see Y/n." Stephanie confirmed, sighing softly.]
["This is going to go poorly." Damian grimaced with another scoff.]
["Yeah, well, we can only hope he doesn't mess up too badly."]
["Let's try to think a little realistically, Tim." Jason said.]
Barbara just let out a huff as she looked at the screens in front of her. A little hope never killed anyone, but really, she didn't have a good feeling about this.
Maybe Dick really wasn't the best choice.
You were still calmly sitting in your apartment, messing around with the instrument in your hands. Since you've been switching between the ones you have every now and again, trying to find a particular melody you were looking for, but hadn't found just yet. You didn't have easy access to as many instruments as you did a few months ago, but you learned to work with what you had. Having taken home the very first instrument you bought yourself, and a few more of your favorites that could fit in the apartment that you managed to get your hands on for a decent price.
Sure, you did have other places you could go to that allowed you to play the other instruments you didn't have, but you liked to play at home if you could help it. There was just something about being in a comfortable space while composing a song or melody, that just felt nice. You truly felt at home, a feeling you didn't realize you missed until you left the manor and finally had a space that you could truly call your own. A feeling you didn't want to let go of, if you could help it.
Your life was still busy but it was beginning to slow down. You dedicated more time to things you actually enjoyed, but also made an effort to take care of yourself and hold onto good habits you had developed over the years. Though you were still trying to let go of some bad ones, you were making progress. 
You felt… happy here. At peace, even.
You were surrounded by people that saw you and even recognized you, and were beginning to see that you had a family of your very own all along. 
Unlike the family you were adopted into, your friends showed their care and support — and if anything, made sure you wouldn't forget it. With you showing the same care and support back, and your efforts being recognized instead of pushed to the side. Being reciprocated instead of leaving you with nothing, and making you feel more alone and unwanted than words could describe.
Sure, it wasn't perfect, and you've had your fair share of arguments and times where you needed space, but that was okay. You didn't need perfection, and you didn't need constant happiness. You just needed love and care, and that's what you found. Among other things you didn't ask for or necessarily need, but appreciated deeply regardless.
You felt like you had finally found what you've been searching for, and nothing could make you happier.
Yet, somewhere in your heart, you knew it couldn't last forever, and as if hearing your worries, an abrupt knock echoed throughout the apartment.
You paused what you were doing, humming curiously to yourself as you turned to look at the front door from your position on the couch. Who could that be at this hour? It certainly wasn't your roommate, seeing as they were sound asleep in their room, and you could still hear their snores despite being in the living room. So who else could it be?
Maybe it was Ms. Harry again, seeing as she had a bit of an odd tendency to knock on the wrong door sometimes. After all, she was old, and her memory was slowly getting worse, but she was always quick to fix her mistakes. So you just shrugged and turned away, convinced that it was another one of those nights where she just so happened to mistakenly knock on your door. So you let it be, knowing that she'd correct herself on her own and move along.
However, another set of knocks sounded. 
They were a little louder this time, as if the person on the other side of the door really did want to be noticed. Which made you pause and look back at the door, taking a brief glance at the clock.
It was getting late, and not many people were out and about during this time of night. Not the people on your floor, anyway. Though, you still tried to think of anyone who could be at the door right now.
Besides your roommate, not many of your friends lived particularly close. With the amount of them that would not only be up at this time of night, but would also personally come to bother you without sending a text or anything, being even smaller. The more you think about it, the shorter the list of potential people got, and you don't know if that should make you more confused or worried. Maybe a bit of both, but you weren't sure.
More knocks sounded. Again, they were louder compared to the last set, if only by a little.
Well, whoever was at your door was being rather persistent, so you decided to at least check it out. 
Reluctantly, you set the instrument you had been fiddling with for the past hour to the side. Sighing softly as you got up from your spot on the couch, and quietly approached the door. 
Moving about as silently as you could was an odd habit you couldn't shake, and while your friends have joked and commented about it, you suppose it was just another remnant of your life in the manor. A life you were still trying to gradually leave behind.
Regardless, you made your way to the door, and yet here — right at the foot of it, an odd feeling began to blossom in your chest. You couldn't make sense of it, but as you reached for the knob, you found yourself stopping. It didn't feel like a good idea to open the door, and though you couldn't figure out why, you just took a small breath and pushed the feeling to the side. 
Clearly, you were having a weird night, but just to humor yourself, you decided to 'comply' with whatever this feeling was, and check who was at the door by looking through the peephole instead.
It was only then did you understand.
You took a few silent steps back, putting your hand over your mouth as you kept your eyes on the door. Tingles of unease slowly crawling down your spine, and your heart began to beat against your chest harshly. You don't know if what you saw was real, but you didn't want to check again. Once felt like enough, especially since your legs felt like they were sinking into the floor.
How… how did they know where you live?
You took a breath, trying to calm your nerves as you took a few more steps away from the door. You have no idea what's going on, but all you know was that you don't want Dick knowing where you live. He might know the floor and building, but you refuse to give him the exact room if you could help it. So, you quickly moved to your room and got ready, a quick plan forming in your head.
Changing was easy, and so was gathering the stuff you thought you'd need for this. Not exactly too worried about the shoes you put on or anything like that, as your heart leapt from your chest to your throat when more knocks came, basically pounding against the door.
Fuck. He was getting impatient.
Picking up the pace, you made any last minute adjustments you could to your appearance, before quickly deciding that you looked good enough to be outside. Rushing to a window, you didn't waste any time opening it, grabbing onto a pipe that was exposed on the side of the building, closing the window, and sliding down the pipe until you reached the ground. Thanking your past self for having done that enough times to be used to it.
Knowing for a fact that you heard more knocks on your way down, you hurriedly rushed back into the apartment building and basically ran to the elevator. Thanking the gods that it had opened when you first called it, you rushed inside and hit the button for your floor. Hurriedly tapping on the button that closed the elevator doors as they slowly shut, as if that would make them move faster somehow.
As the elevator rose, you prayed that it wouldn't stop and that it'd go straight up to your floor, not knowing if you could afford to risk losing time like that. Especially when the thought of a certain vigilante breaking down your door because you didn't answer it, popped into your head.
Your hands were sweaty, your heart was racing, and you could hardly stand still as you waited for the elevator to reach your floor. Staring at the counter above the elevator buttons as if that'd make the numbers go up faster, and occasionally glancing at the doors as if they'd open at any moment. Questions and possibilities rushed through your head, but you hardly had any time to think about any of them as a small ding sounded, and the doors finally opened. Ignoring how the small sound made you jump a bit, you tried not to look too nervous as you stared at the hallway in front of you.
Oh god, you were really doing this.
Not wanting to waste any more time, you stepped out of the elevator and took a breath. Trying to calm down your heart a bit as you gathered your composure, and acted as normally as you could manage. Walking forward, you rounded the corner, and there he was in all of his tainted glory. 
"Di- I- I mean, Nightwing?" You call out, trying to grab the vigilante's attention before he did anything rash — and you seem to have caught him at just the right moment. As he seemed just about ready to bust open the lock to your door, and break into your apartment. Which, he thankfully pulls away as he whips around to look at you, clearly surprised.
You were almost too grateful to have caught him just in time.
"What are you doing here?" You took a few steps forward, but nothing more. Not wanting your efforts to go to waste right away, even if you knew it was only a matter of time when it came to these guys.
"Oh! Y/n- hi! I didn't, um, I didn't see you there." Dick greets with a smile, acting oddly nervous, which makes you raise a brow. "How long have you been, uh, standing there?" He asks, probably trying to see if you saw how he was about to break into your apartment. You both know you did, but you could play dumb for now.
"Um, I just got back so… not long, I guess? Why?" You tilt your head to the side, taking note of how Dick seemed to visibly relax. 
Was he always so… tense?
"No reason! I was just wondering, but, uh," He glances to the side before looking back at you, and taking in your appearance. He took in every little detail he could, and wow… you really were different from what he was expecting, but in the best way possible. 
Your voice was different than he remembered, and everything about you was just so… fitting, even if he's never seen it before. Even if he didn't remember having seen the style of clothes you wore on you before, or seeing the accessories you had on your person either. You really look like you've grown up now and have become an adult, with your own sense of style and fashion. Having all these little ways to show how you've grown, and become more comfortable with yourself. 
Dick couldn't help but love it as much as it hurt him.
"It's good to see you." He couldn't help but blurt out, smiling softly. Though it didn't quite reach his eyes. 
You only fiddled with your sleeves, averting your eyes for a moment as you purse your lips into a thin line. The way he looks at you made you feel uncomfortable to say the least, and his whole demeanor was nothing you have seen from him before. Not directed towards you, anyway, and you couldn’t help but struggle trying to remember the last time he smiled at you in person. All you could remember was seeing his back turned towards you as he walked away, a flash of a pathetic smile showing on his face briefly before he continued walking forward. Never looking back...
Maybe you've just grown too familiar seeing his smile in photographs and painted pictures, instead of in person.
Yet, how he looks you over now — and seems to take in every detail he manages to find — isn't exactly making this the most comfortable situation to be in. You feel exposed, and rub your arm before stopping yourself. You couldn't afford to show signs of weakness or vulnerability. Not with him. Not while he was in the suit.
Taking in a short breath, you gave a small nod. Managing to look back at Dick, and push down your nerves. The last thing you want was for him to notice how you truly feel, and point it out, or feel some kind of obligation to do something about it. The last thing you need was for him to stick around for longer than he has to.
"Yeah, um, anyway- that didn't really answer my question…?" You hesitantly point out, unsure if you should've mentioned anything at all, but feeling the need to do so. Even if you rather not be in this position, you prefer this over him breaking down your door. 
"Did something happen? I- I don't know how much help I can give since… y'know- I'm not a crime-fighting vigilante in latex, but I can see what I can do?" You try to joke a little, mostly for yourself and to further ease your nerves as a few small chuckles escape you. Yet it doesn't help as much as you would've liked.
Did they always scare you this much?
"Oh, no! No, no, no- nothing happened! I just wanted to, um, come see you, is all!" Dick admits, and even if that may have been enough reasoning for him, it wasn't for you. It just doesn't make sense, and maybe that was the years of being put off to the side — or almost outright ignored — talking, but you couldn't imagine him just randomly popping out of nowhere, just because he wants to see you. There has to be a reason, even if you don't know what that reason would be.
"By going to my friend's apartment…? That doesn't really make a lot of sense.. um, Nightwing." 
"Oh. Uh, you don't live here?" It was so weird seeing someone like Dick be so openly nervous. Was he always like this? You couldn't really tell, but if there was something going on he wasn't hiding it very well. It was almost like he was trying to not mess up or something, but you don't know why.
"No… but I do visit often? I mean, that is why I'm here and everything-" A few nervous chuckles escape you as you scratch the back of your neck, once again averting your gaze. "If you want, we could talk over a cup of coffee? I know a good place nearby, and even if I'm sure you can't exactly dine-in or anything, I could just take it to-go or something." You hesitantly offer, getting the feeling that Dick wouldn't leave easily, and still thinking that if there really is something going on — you could give him a chance to talk about it, at the very least.
"Sure! Yeah! But, uh. Is that really a good idea? It could be dangerous, and I think it's for the best if we stay inside or go to your place instead." Dick suggests, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion.
"My place?" 
"Yeah, I mean I would offer mine but Bludhaven isn't exactly close, y'know?" He snickers. Yet it only made you pause. The smallest bits of a bad feeling beginning to form in your stomach.
"I- I don't think that's a good idea…"
"But it's better than hanging around outside or something, right? This is Gotham, after all." You didn't like how Dick says that. Saying it like you didn't already know. Like you were ignorant of how bad the city you live in was, despite having experienced it first hand on multiple occasions.
"I know, but there has to be some other place we can talk, then just my place." 
"Well, there is the-"
"No." You immediately shot it down, already feeling like you knew what he was going to say, "Not there. Let's- let me just grab the coffee first, and we can figure it out from there, alright?" You didn't want to deal with more than you have to, and you weren't going to go back. Not now. Not ever, if you could help it.
"Oh, sure! I'll just tag along," Dick said simply, almost as if it was obvious, as he smiles, approaching you casually.
"I-" You pause before just sucking in a breath and giving a small nod, a weak smile displaying itself on your face, "-yeah, sure. That- that works." Even if you don't want Dick to follow you, it is better than having him just stand at your door, anyway. Though you still aren't exactly comfortable with the idea, you didn't have many options.
"Great! I'll meet you outside!" Dick grins before leaving through the window at the end of the hall.
Now by yourself for a while, you exhaled deeply, not even realizing how long you've been holding your breath. 
You aren't sure if you could do this, but you don't feel like you have much of a choice anymore as you just try to steady and calm down your racing heart. 
Making your way back to the elevator, you try to not think too much about what's going on as you step back inside, and push the correct button, waiting for it to descend.
Your heart felt heavy in your chest, and despite how you try to ignore it – you could feel that something was wrong. Though you just chalked it up to how you aren't used to Dick talking with you,  or smiling towards you – or really anything at all when it came to him. You tried to, anyway, but you were slowly beginning to doubt it.
There was something in his smile, and the way that he spoke that just felt strange to you. Even if you haven't had many conversations or interactions with him, you could still catch how different he seemed tonight. Though you weren't entirely sure. After all, you didn't know much about his personality or usual antics, just as he didn't know much about you as a whole.
On any other occasion you'd try to let it go, but doing so didn't feel right this time. It feels stupid, and almost as if you'd put yourself in more danger by trying to, so for now you'd just keep it in mind. Even if nothing came of it, at least you were being cautious, right?
You aren't sure, not entirely anyway. Since it was always hard to tell what is and isn't a good decision with Dick and the others, but you don't have much time to dwell on it as the elevator doors open once again.
All you could do was just hope that this would end as quickly as it started. For both your and Dick's sake, but mostly for your own.
Nevertheless, you step out of the elevator and make your way out of the building. There, you saw Dick leaning against a lamppost, before looking at you. The smile he gave only made the pit in your stomach grow bigger, but you tried to return the gesture the best you could.
Neither smile reached either of your eyes.
"So, you know where it is?"
"Yeah- it isn't too far from here. Just a few blocks away, it's not that far of a walk." 
"Great! You don't mind leading, then?"
"No, um. I can lead."
"Perfect, let's get going then." Dick says, his smile growing a little bigger as he makes his way over, and stops beside you, waiting for you to lead the way.
You just gave a nod, taking a nervous step forward as you both began to walk. You knew the directions by heart at this point, and so you just let your own feet guide you along the streets of Gotham. With Dick following right along, humming under his breath.
An awkward silence fell over both of you.
You try to not think about it too much, knowing that the detail would only further bother you, and make you feel more nervous than you already are. So you drew your attention elsewhere, and focused on the city itself instead.
Not many people were walking about, which immediately struck you as odd since Gotham was always so lively despite how dangerous it is. Even if more people were out during the day, there were still lots of people who were out at night for one reason or another. Granted, most of them are dangerous, everyone knows that, but some just simply went about their business. The city was dangerous, but that didn't stop people from going about their lives. Even if it did make it easier for thugs and the like to hide within the crowds.
Still, the change was noticeable. Gotham wasn't exactly known to be quiet, let alone this inactive. It felt strange, and when you glance over to Dick, you couldn't help but feel a little surprised that he didn't seem all that bothered by the change. If anything, you were almost getting the impression that he hadn't noticed it at all.
So, you just keep looking ahead, and focusing on other things. Deciding to not comment on anything if Dick wasn't.
Yet you still couldn’t shake it.
The absence of sirens in the air and occasional gunshots didn't sit right with you, and even the amount of people driving by wasn't as much as it'd usually be. The city didn't feel busy, let alone as alive as it would've been on any other night, and it's bothering you. It's like some sort of silent evacuation is going on, or a lock down of some kind that not everyone was informed of. There were more whispers than there were shouts, and a kind of awkward peace, instead of striking violence and chaos.
You couldn't believe it, was this Gotham's first real quiet night?
CRACK.
Perhaps you spoke too soon.
A sickening crack sounded from somewhere within the city, the noise so loud and sudden that it immediately caught your attention, as you looked in the direction of where you heard it come from. You could've sworn you heard a scream that followed right after, only for it to swiftly get cut off. 
It was only then did you really take a look around, and notice how the people you passed by looked equally tense and nervous. An unsaid, but shared feeling of tension and anxiety hung in the air, and now that you noticed it — you couldn't ignore it.
What didn't help was when you saw someone in an alleyway cocking their gun, only for them to swiftly get roped into the darkness, causing them to drop their weapon in the process. A sickening pop sounded, and then deafening silence followed. The only evidence that anyone had ever stood in that particular spot, was the gun the thug had dropped. 
Through the shadows of the alleyway, and faint light from the moon, you could almost make out a figure in the darkness. Yet just as they turned to look at you, your eyes darted away. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat.
"Are… are you sure there isn't anything going on? It seems oddly… quiet, tonight." You point out hesitantly, small tingles dancing down your spine, and they were far from pleasant.
"Hm? Oh, well, I guess you could say something is happening, but the others are taking care of it." Dick reassures as he waves his hand dismissively. "Though that's why I think it'd be better if we talked inside. The last thing I want is for someone to eavesdrop on our conversation, and for you to get caught in the crossfire of everything." Yet you couldn't help but feel like it was a little too late for that.
Being associated with Dick, and the others — let alone being someone that they'd actually turn to for assistance or anything — already made someone prone to being caught in any crossfire that dealt with their vigilante work. Even if the person didn't get caught in between things by some miracle, it would be hard to ignore the newly painted target on their back. Being known for having a connection to Batman, and anyone he had taken under his wing one way or another, had its problems, and you already had to deal with your own fair share of trouble just for being known as another kid who got adopted by Bruce Wayne. 
You wouldn't be surprised if you suddenly had to deal with more trouble just from this conversation alone, since word traveled around fast in Gotham, but you didn't want to think about that right now. You'd just deal with that when the time came, if it ever did.
Still, you didn't fully believe Dick. Your feelings of the situation becoming more messy, and unclear as you try to piece things together. You couldn't tell if what was going on was something to worry about, or stress over. Since Dick was acting so dismissively about it, and yet the effect it's having on Gotham was unmistakable. Is it big enough to cause the city to go quiet, but not dangerous enough to worry about? Or is it something else entirely?
You took a breath. Maybe it's best if you just think about it later. You already have enough on your plate as it is, and the biggest thing you have to worry about right now is Dick. All you have to do is find out what he wants, and handle things from there. That's it. That's all you have to do.
So, you nod hesitantly. Still not looking at Dick as you said, "Right. Okay. That… that makes sense, I guess," but your voice betrays you despite your best efforts as it wavered slightly. Still, you make sure to add, "but I still don't think it's the best to talk at my place."
Dick only gave a nod, saying, "Alright," and nothing else.
Your body refused to relax after that.
You still couldn’t shake the odd feeling you were getting from Dick, even if you couldn't exactly pinpoint what's wrong or where this feeling is coming from. The distant sounds of snaps, cracks, pops, and cut off shouts and screams in the distance didn't help much with that either. Especially when they weren't far, and sounded like they were only a few blocks away from you, with the distance slowly growing shorter each and every time a new sound echoed across Gotham. Especially when you realized that the snaps and cracks were the sounds of bones breaking, and the pops were joints getting dislocated. Which caused various memories to pop into your head that you tried to shove away.
Small beads of sweat began to roll down your neck. Your hands feel clammy, and you try to steady your breathing once you realize it was wavering again. You try to fix any outward reaction you notice you were displaying before Dick could catch on, fiddling with your sleeves as you try to reassure yourself.
You're going to be okay.
CRACK!
You're going to be fine.
SNAP!
You're going to make it through this.
POP!
You could tough it out.
"AAAHHH-!" CRUNCH.
This would all be over soon.
So, you try to ignore how the pit in your stomach continues to grow with each second that passes. How each sound causes you to tense, and sometimes jump the smallest bit, but you try to ignore that too. 
You glance over to Dick once again, only to catch him immediately turning to face forward. The detail made you pause and furrow your brows, had he been looking at you?
You shove the thought to the side and face forward again as well. A weight of some kind begins to form in your chest, yet you still try to push on and keep walking.
Seconds turn into minutes, and it's only now that you fully realized how long this short walk felt. The sidewalks stretched on, and the streets never seemed to end. The traffic lights felt like distant glimpses of life and civilization that one would catch in fog, with the small amount of cars on the road not helping with that feeling. Dark clouds begin to form overhead, and cover the inky black sky. With the full moon looking down at you. Its sight pinned on you, staring in silence.
Maybe that's why you were so relieved when the diner finally came into view, and you found yourself holding back a sigh of relief. You had to stop yourself from running over, and rushing inside so that you didn't have to walk beside Dick anymore. Further reminding yourself of how awkward this whole experience has been for you thus far. Which didn't help with how you are feeling at all.
"How do you like your coffee?" You decide to ask, seeing as the diner was only a few steps away at this point.
"What?" Dick asks, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance he was in. With your question bringing him back to reality.
"Um, how do you like your coffee? Since, y'know. That's what we're here for?" You repeat, giving Dick a confused glance.
A look of realization flashed across Dick's face as a small 'ohh' left him. "Right, yeah. Uh," he stumbles at first before saying his preference, with you just nodding along.
"Okay, I'll just go inside and order so… you can just wait out here?" You said, unsure as you glance at the diner, only to look back at Dick.
"Yeah, I can do that." He agrees with a simple nod and small thumbs up. Making you nod as well as you took a breath.
"Right, okay. I'll just, um, head inside then." You exhale sharply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, "It shouldn't take too long." You stop once you're in front of the door to the diner. Folding your hands into fists, squeezing your fingers and digging your nails into your palms, before releasing, letting your fingers relax, before repeating the process a few more times.
"Got it." Dick nods again, and you return the gesture as you open the door and step inside. Once again holding yourself back from letting out a sigh of relief, as you made your way over to the counter. A weight of some kind being lifted from your shoulders the moment the smell of food, and freshly brewed coffee hits you.
It's only when you reach the counter and see your friend did you finally sigh deeply, and heavily. You rest your arms against the counter and let your head hang low, a feeling of exhaust and fatigue slowly eating away at you. Not being in the immediate vicinity of Dick definitely made you feel exceptionally better, especially now that there’s a wall between you and him.
"Y'know, lots of people have been comin' in and sighing just like that, tonight." The waitress points out as she makes her way over to you. Her comment causing you to lift your head, and look at her. She gave you a little smile, amused by your antics, but you could see the little worry that hid behind her eyes. 
"Really?" You ask, allowing yourself to relax a little, now that you were in the presence of a friend. You didn't see Jessica outside of the diner much, but that was never a problem since you've been a regular for a while now. You had met when you first began coming to the diner late at night for coffee since you couldn't sleep, coming around just when the place was about to close. It was only after a few more nights passed that you both began to talk, and really connect. You like to consider her one of your closest friends because of all she's done for you, and not just because she knows how to make your coffee just the way you like it.
"Yeah, it's kinda weird but there's seems to be somethin' going on tonight. So I guess it makes sense." Jessica says with a shrug, "Anyway, you want the usual, I'm assuming?"
You perk up at that, "Wait, you think something's going on too?" You couldn't help but ask, though made sure to also say, "Oh, and that'd be great. But I'll… um, take it to go this time, and I'll have another coffee for my…" you glance over your shoulder and look at Dick. He had his back turned to the window, and looked to be talking to someone with what you assumed to be his comm link. 
You turn back to Jessica, a crooked smile on your face, "My acquaintance…?"
"I can't think of anyone who doesn't. Everyone can tell that something ain't right about tonight. Hell, even Jim looked bothered when he came in. I swore he was shakin' like a leaf, and looked like something was out to get him too." Jessica replies, writing down your order on her notepad mindlessly, already knowing it by heart. 
"Jim? Like the commissioner?"
"Nope, I'm talkin' about the guy who came in from Metropolis."
"Oh." You said, before slowly nodding as you thought about it, "I guess that makes sense. Though, I didn't think that guy had a single nervous bone in his body, to be honest."
"Well, y'know what they say; Gotham changes people. It can even make people like him, who're barely present with the rest of us, get a little shaken up every now and again." Jessica hums, looking at what she has written down for a moment.
"Right… yeah."
Jessica sighs softly, looking at you with unsaid care and concern before speaking up again, "Anyway, does your…" she drags out the 'r' as she glances behind you, before looking back at you. Waving her pen in the air as she gestures towards the window, "'acquaintance' want anything else?" 
"No, um. Just the coffee will do." You rub the back of your neck, making sure to mention how Dick said he likes his coffee. Jessica only gave a nod as she wrote it down.
"Alright, but I gotta ask. Is that guy bothering you?" Jessica asks as she starts to brew the coffee, shooting you a certain look, "I can get William to have a chat with 'im if he's causing you trouble. He won't like it, but he'll do it, y'know." 
The question catches you off guard, but you quickly shake your head, and try to adjust the smile on your face to look less obvious. As much as you don't want to be in this situation, you at least want to hear Dick out. If there's even the smallest chance that he really does need something from you — you want to help. You don't want to be the reason why whatever is going on is prolonged any further, or if a solution they have is delayed. 
Despite everything they've done to you, and the little they've given you throughout all of your life, you want to do this one last thing for them. That's all. 
You could afford to do this one last time, you thought as much anyway.
"I'm fine, he- he isn't bothering me… I promise." You try to reassure your friend, mustering the most convincing smile you could as you watch her work. She clearly knew what she was doing, since it looked as if it came so naturally to her, and you wouldn't be surprised if it did, with all she's told you in the past.
"Well, alright. But if he does anything you can always shoot me a text or give me a call. I can't do much myself, but I know people." 
You huff at her words, an easy smile making its way up your face as your shoulders relaxed, "I know. Thanks, Jess."
"Don't mention it. After all, I've gotta look out for the person who gives the best tips." She snickers, a smile of her own beginning to show itself. You can't help but laugh lightly as you just shake your head, and look away.
The soft tune of old melodies plays in the background, filling the space of the diner and washing away any awkwardness that may have been present otherwise. Some jazz begins to play, and you couldn’t help but tap your foot along with the rhythm, the voice of the singer taking all of your worries, and whisking them away. 
The other customers are quiet for the most part, but seem at ease for the time being. The outside world almost seemed so far away despite being just past the windows, but there was some peace to be had with that. The street lights gave off a homey feeling with their soft orange hues spilling into the diner, the quiet from the outside only making this place feel more safe, in a strange way.
"So it's just for the money, huh? And here I thought you genuinely cared about me." You chuckle, fiddling with your fingers mindlessly.
"Of course I do. But I'd like to see you work in customer service and living off of tips," Jessica chuckles as well, "Maybe then you'd see how that's just me appreciating you more, hon'."
You just shake your head, "Right, whatever you say."
"I'm being serious, Y/n. Even the boss appreciates you, and your wonderful donations." Jessica snickers, beginning to pour the coffee into two cups.
"You make it sound like he runs a charity, and I'm a big donor."
"Of course he does! Except, y'know. It isn't your typical charity, and we gotta work our asses off to ‘give back to the people’. With your money making up about… hm, seventy-five percent of my paycheck?" 
"Jess!"
"No, no. You're right, it's more like eighty-three. Maybe even eighty-five at a push." She laughs, giggling at the expression you make as you huff, before laughing a bit yourself.
You both continue to joke lightly, laughs and giggles being shared as Jessica makes your order, and you patiently wait. A light, soft sort of smile resting on your face, and you almost forget what had made you so tense in the first place. Which was one of the reasons you love this diner so much — it felt like a home away from home, even if it was only a few blocks away from your apartment. Jessica just added onto that comfortable vibe you got from this place, and your mind always felt so quiet when you're here.
It almost made everything feel like it'd be okay, and that as long as you remain inside, nothing bad could happen to you.
Unfortunately, it was only that. A feeling, and nothing more. Your current situation only made that detail all the more apparent.
"Welp, here you go. They're both hot and ready, so be careful, okay?" She smiles down at you before snickering, "Though you don't gotta tell the guy that if you don't want to." 
You're confused for a moment, not entirely sure who Jessica was talking about until it suddenly hit you. Right, Dick.
You laugh along, but it wasn't as genuine as it was before, and died down much quicker. As if scared that he'd hear both of you from past the window now. The thought alone made you suddenly hyper-aware of his presence outside. "Right, yeah.."
Grabbing the two cups, you slide them towards yourself and stare down at them for a moment, finding yourself hesitating again. You don't know why you were taking so many pauses, but this whole thing just didn't feel right to you. Though you couldn't exactly pinpoint why, you knew the reason was different than why you were so awkward around Dick, and reluctant to talk to him.
"... Are you sure that guy isn't bothering you?" Jessica asks again, leaning against the counter as she places a hand over one of yours. You couldn't meet her eyes, knowing that if you did it'd just make things harder for yourself. So you look off to the side, unsure.
"Yeah!… He's just.. yeah." Was all you could really say. You don't want to say anything that would make Jessica worry more, but most importantly, you don't want to make it harder for yourself to leave. You got this far, would it really be alright if you leave now? If you took back the words you said, and just went back home? Probably not.
You hear Jessica sigh, causing your heart to feel heavier in your chest. "Look, I get it if you don't want me to get someone to handle him, but if you don't want to stick around, and don't want him to see- I can let you out the back." She offers, giving your hand a small squeeze. Trying to reassure you, and give you something to work with.
You perk up at her offer, looking back up at her in slight surprise, "Really?" You ask. The sense of hope and relief that washed over you didn't make you feel any better, and only furthered the conflict going on in your mind.
"Yeah. Especially if it'll get you away from that weirdo." She chuckles with a slight smirk, trying to lighten the mood a little.
You think about it for a moment, just looking at Jessica as countless thoughts rush through your head. Why did this have to be so complicated? Why are you making this so hard for yourself? The choice is so simple, so easy, and yet you just couldn't take it, but why?
You look back at Dick, and make eye contact.
You both stand there, staring at each other for a while, and the music playing in the diner suddenly didn't feel so comforting anymore. Your shoulders lost their weightlessness, and gravity seemed eager to try and pull you down to the floor.
Dick is the first to look away, presumably resuming his conversation with whoever he's been talking to this entire time, but you didn't. You don't.
Turmoil and conflict is clear in your eyes. You could see it through your faint reflection in the glass of the window that separates you and Dick. Which, from that alone, you begin to feel worse.
Even if you did leave, would that change anything? Would you be able to actually leave Dick? Or would he catch on? They already know where you live, and even if you managed to fool Dick momentarily, you doubt that he believes your little lie now if he is talking to the others. Yet if you went back to him, what would happen? Where would you both end up going?
You look back down at the two coffees, and sigh. Either way, you’re faced with uncertainty. If you left now, there's no telling if you'd actually be able to get away. Yet if you went back to Dick, you couldn't even imagine what would happen next. It felt like you were stuck in a lose-lose situation; having to pick between two different types of poison, and deal with whatever consequences that came with the kind you chose.
Holding the cups a little tighter, you think it over for another moment before shaking your head. Taking in a breath, and letting yourself calm down a bit.
"I think I'll be okay, but thanks for the offer, Jess." You gave her a little, appreciative smile, "I'll just message or call you if anything happens, like you said." Jessica didn't seem entirely sure of your decision, but nods anyway.
"Well, if you're sure, then alright. But the moment shit goes south, you know who to call."
You nod, and give her a small ‘thank you’ as you paid and left. Taking the drinks with you as you did so, the warmth of the diner slowly leaving you, and now being replaced with the cold breeze of the night.
"Sorry that took so long, I would've told you otherwise if I had known." You apologize as you turn to Dick, flinching at his close proximity. Since, you didn't realize just how close he had been standing to the door until now.
"It's no big deal! Besides, it didn't take that long." Dick said, dismissing your apology as he kept up that smile of his. You only nod, handing him his coffee, which he gladly took.
"If you say so.." You glance off to the side again, remaining quiet for a moment before looking back at Dick, "You were talking to the others, I assume?" You decide to ask, not exactly sure if you should've said anything, but you didn't see the harm in doing so at the moment.
"Hm? Oh, yeah! I uh, I was." Dick confirms with a small, awkward nod.
"Is… everything okay?" 
"Yep! Things are going well. Great, even!"
"Oh. Alright then."
Another beat of silence passed over both of you.
You clutch the cup in your hands, its heat pinching and nibbling at your skin through the sleeve. You took a glance inside the diner, and noticed that while Jessica is doing her job, she's still shooting looks and glances your way past the window. She furrows her brows as you both made eye contact, and you could tell what she was going to do just from that alone.
You shake your head, and play it off as if you were just pushing a thought away once you look back at Dick, shoulders rising and almost locking into place as you try to stop your smile from dropping. Holding it at just the right height, and making sure it didn't look too crooked.
"So, um. How about we walk and talk? Just so that we're doing something instead of just standing around- y'know?" You suggest, a wry chuckle escaping you as your eyes wander off again.
"Sure, yeah! We can do that," Dick nods along, and you give a curt nod in return.
"Great!" You begin to walk off, only to be stopped by Dick as he grabs your sleeve, causing you to flinch a little bit. Whipping your head around to look back at him, your heart stopping for a moment as something flashed in your eyes, before it quickly disappeared.
For a split second, you look at Dick as if he was about to kill you, or something similar to that. Like he was going to hurt you in some unimaginable way by just trying to grab your attention.
Though Dick just pushed that little detail to the side, he couldn't help but keep it in mind. He didn't want to think about what it could mean, but couldn't forget it either. Since no matter how quick it was, or how short it lasted, just seeing that expression on your face and directed towards him — it hurt worse than any injury he could possibly receive in any shape or form.
He didn't want to believe what seemed to be the undeniable truth.
So, instead, he tucked it away in the back of his mind. Still managing some kind of smile as he looks at you, hiding behind a face of confusion.
"Isn't your place back that way?" Dick asks, gesturing behind him with a tilt of his head. He notices how you swallowed — taking note of how nervous and on edge you seem to be. He's known since he first saw you, but he didn't think anything of it. He doesn't want to. He doesn't want it to mean anything.
So he ignores it. Pushing it away until he can't see it anymore, despite it being so clear and right in front of his face. 
He prays to every god he knows, and hopes to every heaven he's aware of — blind and ignorant to the fact that they have long since shut him out. The light and grace they'd give, forever out of his reach.
His little wishes couldn't help him now. Not when they never helped you.
"I-" You couldn't help but sigh, shaking your head and gathering your thoughts, before speaking again, "I already said that I don't think that it's a good idea to talk there, Dick. And I don't think it's smart to have this conversation here either- so let's just walk as we try to figure this out. Please?" Your weak smile begins to strain as you take a step back, grabbing Dick's hand and tugging him toward you. You hope he'll listen, if only this one time.
Dick looks to the side, unsure as he weighs his options before looking back at you, and suddenly he's hit with all the convincing he needed.
You look at him pleadingly, almost silently begging for him to comply and just come along with you. The moon, albeit partially covered thanks to the dark clouds passing overhead, lit up your eyes in such a way that further emphasized the emotions you were feeling, but left unsaid. How the internal conflict and struggle you were experiencing, made the color in your irises shine that much brighter, and how such a little thing took Dick's breath away. 
Suddenly, for a moment, he realizes how soft your hand was in his, despite the fabric of his glove in between them. Even if it is just for that split second, he can't help but… love it. Love you. So how can he say no? How could he say no when he's slowly beginning to see all of these little things about you in a different way? When his guilt was slowly shifting to something else? Something worth trying for?
How can he deny such a little request from his little sibling? Especially when you look at him like that? He can't. So he didn't. Unable to stop the soft but partially happy smile that grew on his face.
You found it uncanny and misplaced, but he found it fitting and refreshing in a way. A way he hadn't felt before — not in a while, anyway.
"Sure, alright. Let's get going then!" Dick replies after a second of silence had passed, holding onto your hand and walking beside you when you began to move again. 
You didn't say anything this time, just nodding as you focused on walking away from the diner.
Yet, Dick couldn't help but look back at the establishment. Curious as to why you wanted to move on from it so quickly, and wanted to see if he could catch anything in particular that might've caused it. Not that Dick was complaining by any means, but he couldn't help his own curiosity.
It was then that Dick and the waitress from inside the diner made eye contact. Causing Dick to narrow his eyes, and the waitress doing the same back with a certain look in her eyes.
He didn't like it, and even if the impression he's getting was far off the mark, he didn't care enough to change it.
Yet, when you and Dick pass the diner, your phone suddenly vibrates. 
Oblivious to how Dick's gaze lingered on the diner for a little while longer — or how he was even looking back at all — you fish your phone out of your pocket once you shake Dick’s hand off mindlessly, not thinking too much about the action as you check your notifications.
There, you saw that Jessica had left you a message.
['Be careful with that one. I'd watch your back if I were you, hon.']
You were confused to say the least, but before you could think to respond, Dick turned back to you and suddenly spoke. Smile ever present, eyes trained on you.
"So, where are we going?" 
"Oh- um, I'm not entirely sure." You admit, pocketing your phone quickly without much thought. Hoping Dick didn't see what the text said, but you didn't count on it. Not much slipped past him or the others in any given situation, not unless it was something dealing with you. Though, with his attention on you now? You couldn't be too sure of what he would and wouldn't notice. Not anymore.
After all, just knowing that he could see you now, and is actually talking with you, along with the fact that you've been in his space for over a minute was… a new experience. You didn't think you'd get this far — you never have before, and so this was all new territory for you. All you knew, and could gather from how things were going thus far, was that slipping away wouldn't be as easy as it was before. Not with his eyes trained on you like they were now.
"Well, that's fine but we still shouldn't stay out for long. It isn't safe." Dick pointed out again, causing you to sigh and nod your head.
"I know, but I still-" you cut yourself off, and took a quick breath before continuing, "it doesn't feel right going back to my place. Besides, not many people are out tonight… and as weird as that is- at least not many people will be around to eavesdrop on our conversation, if we did talk out here." You said, shrugging your shoulders, and taking a slow but small sip of your coffee. It burned your tongue, but at least it gave you something else to think about.
"That doesn't exactly make Gotham any less dangerous, and besides- those who are walking around, and are still out and about, could be from a worse crowd. You should know that, Y/n." Again, you didn't appreciate how he spoke to you like that. Talking as if you were ignorant to that possibility, or just generally unaware that Gotham was a bad place filled with even worse people. 
"I do, I'm just saying-" you try to defend yourself, looking at Dick before immediately looking away. You don't like how he looked at you, and how much taller it made him appear, "Gotham isn't just filled with criminals, and besides… most people look like they're rushing to get home anyway." You comment, noticing how a group of people — presumably friends or roommates, maybe even 'coworkers' to a certain degree — rushed inside what appeared to be an apartment building. Along with how a family quickly got inside of their house, ushering their kids inside before hurriedly closing the door behind them. 
"It's like some kind of apocalypse is going on…" You mutter, narrowing your eyes at the sight, before just focusing your attention back on the sidewalk ahead of you. You didn't recall getting a memo of any kind, or an alert if something like that was really going on. Though, your best bet to figuring anything out was unfortunately through Dick, by the looks of things.
Dick rubs the back of his neck, a strange feeling of nervousness, and something close to embarrassment, radiating off of him as he chuckled. The strange detail caught your attention, causing you to look at him and notice that his smile had become uneven, before he fixed it when he noticed you were looking. 
You couldn't help but raise a brow, silently questioning Dick with your eyes, a small hint of suspicion growing behind your gaze.
Dick just shrugs, fixing himself the very next moment, which only causes you to narrow your eyes. Were they actually causing some kind of apocalypse? Surely not… right?
"Then that's just all the more reason why we should head inside too." Dick said, giving your hand a soft squeeze. Forcing you to acknowledge that you were holding hands once again – but when did he grab it? You don’t remember feeling him hold it again until now… but that wasn’t important, not now anyway, "I don't want anything bad to happen to you, Y/n. I'm just worried." 
You grew quiet at that, a mix of emotions beginning to swirl around in your chest before you just shove it to the side. You couldn't tell if he was joking or trying to be genuine….
Though, your heart and mind seemed to agree that he wasn't being serious, and maybe that's why you didn't like how he looked at you.
Taking your hand back once again, you shook your head dismissively, "You're a vigilante, right? One of Gotham's finest, and looking over Bludhaven at that- if anything happens I'm sure you can handle it." Huffing, you add, "Even then, I can handle myself."
Dick's eyes linger on you for a little longer. The hand that had been holding yours twitched, and he kept it there for a second before letting it drop to his side, his smile beginning to die down before he sighed. "Still, I think it'd be better if we tried to avoid something like that all together."
"I think it'd also be better if we could avoid something like that happening at my place."
"It won't, not with me around."
"So now you're confident that nothing will happen?" You laugh lightly, more air escaping you above all else, and disbelief clear in your eyes and tone. "You can't be sure. Someone could follow us there and find out where I live."
You snicker again, not fully believing that you were actually having to tell Dick all of this, "I mean, it might not matter much to you but-"
"It does matter to me. I don't want you to get hurt, or anyone else to come after you." He took another breath, and you bite your tongue. Reframing from mentioning how it was a little too late to be saying that now. "Look, I understand if you don't want to go back to where you're staying, but if that's the case then we can just got to the-"
"No." You speak up before he could even finish. Already knowing what he was going to say, and the mere thought of going back to that place made you feel uneasy. Causing you to clutch your cup with both of your hands, barely registering its heat.
"I didn't even get to say where…" Dick sighs again, just pushing the detail to the side for the moment, "Can you at least tell me why? I don't see why we shouldn't."
"It just-" You didn't want to say it outloud. Not out here. Not with him around, and listening to every word that fell out of your mouth. "I just don't think that's smart either. Again, someone could follow us back there and find out about… you know."
"Well, then someone else could just take you back-"
"Wouldn't that seem suspicious if someone saw, though?" 
"Now you're worried about being seen?"
"Like you weren't before-"
"Y/n, please. We can't just stand around here and talk about stuff all night. Either way, we have to go somewhere." Dick tries to reason, adding on, "Look, if you don't want to go to your place or the 'other' place, how about we just-"
"No."
"I didn't even get to finish!"
"I know what you were about to say, and just-" You took a breath of your own, sweat rolling down the back of your neck as your hands began to shake a little bit. Your nerves were getting to you. You could feel it with how your chest became heavier, and how it was getting progressively harder to continue walking — as if your feet were slowly sinking into the cement below you.
"I don't think it'd be the best to go there either." You mutter, looking off to the side.
"Why? I can sort of understand the 'other' place-" he didn't, but in his attempt to get through to you, he said otherwise, "but why not there? Again, we can't just wander around all night and talk out in the open like this, Y/n. You should know better than that." Dick states, furrowing his brows as his gaze remains pinned on you, never once looking away.
You wish he would. By the Gods did you wish he would look away just once. Yet such a blessing had yet to be given, if it would ever come.
With every second that passed, your doubt only grew.
"I just don't see why we can't go to any other places? Somewhere that isn't personal, or technically considered to be personal since it could reveal your identity and such- and I don't think I have to give reasons why someone knowing where I live, or used to live, would be bad too- but… yeah. Just-" You gather your thoughts, looking down at your cup of coffee for a brief moment, "Just somewhere that isn't necessarily connected to either of us, or could reveal potentially personal or sensitive information on one or both of us? Like the park, or some random rooftop…? You guys still have talks up there, right?" You manage to slide in a little joke, but the laugh you gave is more awkward and nervous than anything, so you just clear your throat and continue.
"Or- or just an abandoned building or something? If you still really want us to be inside? Since Gotham has some of those… maybe too many of them- but that's besides the point." You try to suggest, hesitant to even say anything but managing somehow regardless.
You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at Dick – so you missed how his brows creased, and his smile was just barely holding up. His hand twitches again, but he tries to stay mindful of the coffee he's still holding.
"Are you serious?" His tone made you press your lips into a thin line. Your nails begin to dig into the sleeve of your cup. "I get that you're paranoid, but are you serious right now? Y/n, c'mon." An odd warmth began to bloom in your chest at Dick's words. It was far from pleasant, and lit like a match, with the flame itself bursting to life. It started much larger than you were used to, and controlling it was more difficult than you expected.
"I'm just saying…" 
"Saying… what? That we either stay out in the open where anything can happen, or a clearly dangerous place where we're most likely going to get jumped? 'Cause if that's what you're saying, then I don't even know what to say, Y/n." Dick really can't believe you right now. Just how long have you been living in Gotham, exactly? Who were you even living with? He couldn't understand what you were thinking suggesting such a thing.
He had a feeling you may have been unaware of the true dangers of Gotham, since he and the others had kept you away from such things – from what he could tell. Not to mention that you didn't have any intention of becoming a vigilante yourself, from what he remembered, but for you to turn out like this? He had no idea you were so oblivious, and if he had before, he never would've let you out of that apartment building. He never should've to begin with, clearly.
"No! Of course that's not what I'm saying!" You couldn't help but yelp in surprise, finally looking at Dick as you held your coffee closer to your chest. You felt offended that he honestly thought you'd think something so stupid, but you didn't know what was worse. How he didn't seem convinced, or how he looked as if he believed himself more than you.
"Then…?" Dick drags on, gesturing for you to give an explanation. Almost daring you to say something that proved him wrong, or went against his point. 
You huff harshly, the warmth in your chest beginning to turn hot as you went on to say, "I'm just saying why can't we go anywhere else, that isn't technically connected to you or me in some way?"
"... And your solution to that is to go to a public area, stay out in the open but on the rooftops, or go to one of the abandoned places around Gotham where something bad will definitely happen?" Dick rose a brow, with you restraining yourself from rolling your eyes. Instead, you manage a sigh – smile long gone from your face.
"Those were just examples, Nightwing." You hold back a scoff, clutching your cup a little tighter, "We don't actually have to go to any of those places, or do those things. I was just trying to suggest ideas, not say; 'Hey, we should go to that one place by the bay that's been abandoned for around five years and have our talk there. Since surely nothing will happen, and a gang totally doesn't hang around that area.' Or something like that." 
"That's oddly specific," Dick gave you a questionable look before shaking his head, "but still. Those places and areas aren't safe. At least the places I suggested are, and if something happens, then there's security measures in place for that."
"How do you know if my place is secure or not?"
"Are you trying to say that it isn't?"
"No- but it's not like I have a super complicated system or hypersensitive security like- y'know. The other places. So what would make my place so safe?"
Dick sighs, "Fine. Alright, maybe your place isn't our safest bet right now. Even if I feel like I can definitely handle protecting a single apartment." You didn't even bother to say anything, just rolling your eyes and shaking your head instead.
"I don't want anything to happen to my place, Nightwing." 
"You really don't think I can't defend one room?"
"I don't live alone, D- Nightwing. I don't just have myself or my things to worry about." You couldn't help but say, scoffing under your breath. However, Dick could only blink, a little confused.
"You… have a roommate?" 
"Yeah? Who do you think I was referring to when I said I was visiting a friend?"
"Oh! I thought that was a complete lie. I guess that makes sense, but why would you need a roommate anyway? Does your job not make enough money or-"
"Does that really matter right now?" You gave Dick a pointed look, hoping that he would take the hint and drop the subject, "We're trying to find out what the fuck to do, not delve into my personal life." 
"Alright, fine- no need to get all worked up." Dick put his free hand up to show that he wasn't trying to start anything, and was trying to keep this peaceful and civil, "But why don't we just go to one of the other two areas? They're secure, and I'm sure your friend won't get hurt if something ends up happening while we're there."
You open your mouth to say something, only to shut it and look away. You clutch your cup a little tighter.
How could you tell Dick that you just don't want to be in the manor again, and that you didn't want to go back — without actually having to tell him? How do you tell Dick that you don't feel comfortable being in a space where you knew the rest of them would be, and that you'd rather have to just deal with him than anyone else? That you had a bad feeling about going to any of those places with him, and you don't trust him or the others at all?
You'd rather avoid going to the manor if you could help it, and you had more than enough reasons for feeling that way. Though, would Dick understand? Would he accept your reasons, and see why you wanted to go somewhere else? Maybe not, and even if he did understand, there was no guarantee that he would value your personal comfort over your 'safety'. There was no guarantee that he still wouldn't try and get you to agree with him. 
You also wanted to avoid going to the clock tower. Seeing as just dealing with Dick was… difficult, to say the least, and if you could barely handle one — you couldn't imagine what it'd be like to handle another. Since there was bound to at least be someone else at the tower, just waiting for you to arrive. 
The thought alone made you feel uneasy.
-------------------
[Chapter 3, part 2]
2K notes · View notes
eldritch-spouse · 6 months
Note
You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.
You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.
“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”
You feel a tentacle around your ankles
[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]
TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.
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It was a stupid idea.
You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.
You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.
You just wanted to escape.
And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.
You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.
It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...
Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.
Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.
You're going to die.
A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.
You don't want to die.
But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.
It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.
Finally.
You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.
If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?
You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.
Eh. You can stomach it...
God, you're starving.
One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.
You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?
Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?
Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.
You huddle closer to the small fire.
Alone.
But always so on edge.
Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.
The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!
The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.
Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?
Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?
Something stalking.
A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.
Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...
Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?
...
Just eat the fucking fish already.
Food.
Focus on the present.
The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?
You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.
You'll see.
Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.
It's... Well, it's sustenance.
It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.
This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.
A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.
You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.
Nothing.
Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.
Huh.
What the fuck is that thing?
Tall.
Two legs...
Arms?!
Shit- Could it be?!
That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.
Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.
That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.
" H- Hey... "
You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.
But you need to at least try, right?
The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.
With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!
" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "
Nothing.
There's no one.
But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?
No. Everything's wrong.
Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.
Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.
Why is this happening to you?
Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?
Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.
The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.
The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.
You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!
The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.
Yeah.
Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.
Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...
You almost wish you hadn't.
Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.
Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.
Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.
From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.
That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.
Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.
An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.
And yet, he just stares.
Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.
You stare back.
This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.
Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.
Odd.
Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.
And then, it makes this chitter.
Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.
They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...
They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.
Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.
The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.
Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.
Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.
In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.
Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.
He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.
When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.
" H- Hi? "
A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.
One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.
Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.
But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.
When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.
When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.
You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.
Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.
And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.
It was only a little flick.
But naturally, he felt it.
The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.
The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.
Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.
The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.
Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.
There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.
There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.
Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.
Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.
Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.
You should not have opened your mouth.
But you did.
And he visibly brightened up.
The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.
And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.
While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.
Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?
That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?
Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.
Instinct takes over.
Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.
And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.
It should not arouse you.
It should horrify you.
... But it doesn't.
Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?
Who knows anymore.
All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.
You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.
Then it appears to click.
You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.
And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.
He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.
Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?
Too many, probably.
Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?
Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.
Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.
And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.
He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.
No, literally.
The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.
You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.
Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.
He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.
Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.
He shouldn't be that far in you.
You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.
He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.
Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.
You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.
So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.
There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.
It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.
By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.
You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.
The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.
It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.
Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.
" ... Try putting one in. "
You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.
He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.
You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-
But a branch snaps in the distance.
And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.
His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.
In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.
Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!
Finally, people came looking for you!
The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.
Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.
You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.
His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...
And leaving your saviors in the dust.
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awearywritersworld · 1 year
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gratitude
gojo satoru x reader summary: gojo wakes up early one morning, suddenly aware that he can't live without you. w/c: .5k tags/warnings: fluff. gn!reader. a/n: happy jjk day!!! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here
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gojo satoru is something of a stranger to gratitude, but can anyone really blame him? he was born with unmatched strength, unaccustomed to the blood, sweat, and tears many people shed to gain even a fraction of the power he possesses.
he's the son of one of the wealthiest clans in japan, so he's never gone to bed hungry, nor has he ever had to wear a pair of shoes that were past their prime. he's also blessed with good looks, always flaunting the kind of smile that makes people turn their heads.
now, that's not to say he's never felt thankful in his life. quite the contrary. he was thankful when nanami returned to jujutsu tech and when yuuji came back to life even after sukuna ripped out his heart. hell, he was thankful for the kid at the bakery who served him a particularly exquisite lemon loaf last week.
but he's never felt true gratitude. you know, the kind you experience when you're given something you can't possibly live without. the kind that moves you, shakes you to the core.
that is, until he's laying in bed beside you, already awake as the sun begins to kiss the morning sky. his eyes trail over your face in the pale blue light of dawn, taking great pains to commit every little detail to memory.
it's then that he feels it, gratitude that seeps into his bones and fills him with relief, hope, and elation all at once. gratitude that changes him as a person, because how could he exist without you? without the soft curve of your nose, without the fullness of your lips, without those cute little snores that let him know you're still sleeping peacefully?
you're laying on your stomach, your back exposed and the sheet bunched around your waist. he traces each divot of your spine with a careful and loving touch, acutely aware that there isn't a thing in the world that could possibly compare to the feeling of your skin against his own.
"'toru? what're you doing awake?" you ask groggily, pulling him from his thoughts.
"hmph.. can't sleep 'cause you're such a blanket hog."
"yeah? are you sure you're not just staring at me again, all googly eyed and creepy?" you pop one eye open to discern the look on his face.
"i've got no idea what you're talking about," he asserts, pulling you against his chest in an attempt to obscure his guilty grin.
you've already seen it though. "i think you're delusional or something, you should get some more sleep."
you feel his chest shift, a breath of a laugh passing his nose. "yeah, you're probably right."
you hum, satisfied with his answer, then tangle your legs with his and close your eyes. "i love you."
gojo has taken a lot of things for granted in his life, he's smart enough to know that, but those three words? from your lips? he'll be grateful for them until the end of time.
"i love you, too."
taglist: @torusmochi @moonmalice
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toaarcan · 11 days
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One thing I find interesting is that the villains of Campaign 3 and the people that agree with them see the gods as these oppressive figures that sit on a throne above everyone else and rule over them as tyrants.
But the thing is that the gods aren't ruling things. They sequestered themselves behind the Divine Gate and now only intervene when asked for aid by believers or when directly threatened by jackasses pointing guns at them. Several of the gods have become more active and militant during C3, but what we're seeing are reactions to the threat being leveled at them.
The throne that those opposed to the gods speak of is vacant. They abdicated it and left their children largely to their own devices, but that's not enough for some people. And if they leave or die, that vacant throne isn't going to stay vacant. Whether Ludinus wants it for himself or not, plenty of his subordinates do. So do a fuckton of nasty things that are more powerful than mortal wizards and less powerful than the gods.
The choice isn't between "Yes Tyrannical Gods or No Tyrannical Gods", it's a choice between "Mostly-Absentee Gods or World Ruled By Grand Demons/Unseelie/Archdevils/Elder Evils."
(I also think comparing the presence of the gods to a feudalistic power structure is a clever trick to get people to view their existence as an injustice, when really a more apt comparison is a food chain. They're part of the natural state of Exandria as it has come to be, and removing them from it will cause a trophic cascade as the things they kept in check, like the fiends and fey and Tharizdun, will go out of control and ruin things for everyone else. You don't kill an orca because its existence is unfair to seals.)
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hug-your-face · 7 months
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Insight today while washing the lettuce and thinking of my friend who doesn't want to vote.
They are an otherwise intelligent, responsible, generous person, who appears to be socially conscious. They have worked hard and long for their position in their profession. They express concern for the planet. They get twitchy if you use too many paper towels.
But they don’t want to vote for Biden for reasons, and quote "doesn't like the whole system where the parties take turns swinging things back and forth" unquote.
I have been dumbstruck at their attitude for about two months now. I've been thrashing back and forth trying to reconcile this person I love with their attitude:
If you care abt the planet enough to conserve paper towels, don’t you care enough to stop a Repub administration from raping the land?
If you don’t like how things can swing back and forth, don't you want an administration that's going to work to shore up, rather than dismantle, more lasting democratic systems of governance?
If you understand the value of the long game, why are you only satisfied with instant results from a single election rather than viewing that election as a single move in an ongoing process?
The insight came to me as I used an extra set of paper towels to dry my lettuce:
These people are not motivated by outcomes. They are motivated by how their choices make them FEEL.
Not how the outcomes of their choices will make them feel. But how the action associated with their choices makes them feel.
In terms of outcomes for the environment, saving paper towels doesn't do shit compared to pushing for restrictions on oil companies. But using half a paper towel is an instant dopamine hit: "Ahhh, I am caring for Mother Earth. I care. I am a good person. Ahh yes that's the stuff."
This model fits for voting too. We know that The Only Votes That Count Are Those Cast. We know that Dems Go Where The Votes Are Not Where The Votes Aren't. We know that voting in every election, every time, in numbers, is a very low-effort way to contribute to moving the Overton window farther left.
But in the moment, for people who are motivated by how their action associated with their choice makes them feel... the absolute best move for their dopamine supply is to abstain: "I am NOT supporting an old fart; I am NOT supporting genocide; I am Challenging The System; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."
At the time, when I challenged my friend on their position, they held up their hands and said "look, I'm not saying I have any answers, I'm just saying I don’t like how the system works."
They didn't like how participating in the system made them FEEL in the moment.
For those of us who think this is madness, hey, we aren't off the hook entirely. We are basing our choices and actions off of outcomes, true. But there's probably a feeling/dopamine component in there too. "I am holding my nose and voting Blue; I am doing my part to actually affect the future even if I hate some things abt my choice; I am a good person. Ahh yes, that's the stuff."
So maybe the difference isn't in the motivation (my feelings and self-image) but in what motivates us (my action vs the outcome of my action).
I don't have an answer to the question at this time and this post is already long enough. But I'll think on it. And I invite you to do so as well:
For these people (who seem to be a sizable part of the population), how to outweigh the choice where their action preserves their self-image, doesn't cost them dopamine for having to take a "bad" action, and maybe even gives them a happy boost for "not being part of a flawed system?"
For these people, how to help them connect more to the outcome?
Off the cuff, I can't think of any means other than cognitive-behavioral therapy. :/
EDIT: Apparently there's a term for this and it's called Emotivism -- ethics isn't abt effects but abt feelings.
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thebibliosphere · 3 months
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Am I reading this right? You have been beating yourself up for not 'working more' and not 'doing enough', but, the mere act of being AT YOUR DESK is extremely painful? Sitting at your work station, just SITTING THERE, caused you PHYSICAL PAIN, but you were still under the impression that you should be able to just 'power through that' to do, what? How much more are you expecting out of yourself? A book a month? Its not like you've STOPPED WORKING. What time table were you holding yourself to???
Here's the thing, my body has always hurt.
Even when I was a child, I was in a lot of pain that was dismissed as either "growing pains" despite the fact that I never got past 5 feet tall at the age of 11 or "attention seeking." So, I learned to stop talking about it. (The trick is now getting me to shut up about it.)
And for most of my teens and twenties, the pain didn't really stop me too much. It was bad, and it sucked, but for the longest time, everyone kept telling me that "everyone" felt that way, so I just sort of learned to power through and hide it under the assumption that "everyone" feels this way.
Well, turns out that was a mistake because my body hit its breaking point, and what might have been a mild genetic disability that could have flown under the radar is now a severe one that greatly impacts my daily life to the point where sitting at my desk causes me pain (because everything causes me pain).
Couple that with some new-age religious trauma about willpower, positive thinking, and whatever the fuck else my parents thought I was capable of as an 'indigo starseed' and the fact that I was trained to mask my ADHD by being a hyper-competent workaholic-- I really don't know what a healthy baseline is.
(I mean, heck, I wrote the first book of Hunger Pangs while literally dying. I assumed it would be edited and published posthumously. Jokes on me because now I've got to edit the rest of the fucking thing.)
I didn't, obviously, and ever since then, I've been trying to learn what a healthy baseline looks like for me post-recovery, and I think I'm doing quite well at it and enforcing my boundaries when people ask too much of me.
But none of that makes up for the shrieking frustration I feel that I can't do the things I want.
I want to be creative and do fun things, but I can't because my body won't let me. I want to write more, but I can't because I'm swimming in brain fog most of the time. Yes it hurts to sit at my desk, but I also need to earn money so the financial burden of everything isn't solely on my partner. (Something which he argues I shouldn't even be worrying about right now, but it's hard not to worry as I watch him work himself to the bone taking care of everything because I can't.)
I promise you, I'm not hustling my ass into an early grave. There is, in fact, zero hustle about how I work. I am very, very slow these days compared to how I used to be. There's no timetable for one thing. I get done what I get done, and that's it.
I'm just perpetually frustrated that my hyperactive brain is trapped in a malfunctioning meat suit. And my blog is where I talk about it and work through my emotions because, well, that's what I've always done long before Tumblr was even a thing. It just so happens now I've got an audience.
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obae-me · 5 months
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I have been asked to expand on the MC with trauma scenarios, and you know what, I need the comfort, so let's do it! (No these are not based on myself, I don't know what you're talking about....)
Also I've seen a ton of people's responses to the last one and just know that I am spiritually patting you all on the head and wrapping a soft blanket around your shoulders.
--
MC with ~Trauma~ PT 2!
Imagine an MC who has been mocked, berated, or criticized for their joys and hobbies. They don't do those things anymore or go to great lengths to hide them.
They never share their writing or their art with anyone. They are surrounded by demons and angels much more talented than them. The thing that they felt they were moderately talented in is below average compared to these beings... Everything they create is hidden in secret digital folders or kept in notebooks under their mattress or tucked in secret spots on their bookshelves.
They never sing or dance or play their instruments. They almost avoid the music room altogether. It's almost too painful for them to think about. If they attend a dance they just stand off to the sides... They don't participate in karaoke. They don't hum to their favorite songs.
They hardly cook, or garden, or read, or edit, or color, or knit, or crochet, or embroider, or anything else that they might enjoy.
Imagine some of the nosier brothers not realizing the pain that hides behind their passions and either playfully spying on them or digging up their secrets. Their hearts are fully destroyed when their human breaks down in tears. Now, every single day, every character encourages them to do what they love and giving them private time and space to do it in a place where they feel safe. They all hope that maybe one day MC will feel comfortable enough to share what they love with them but they will never pry it out of them, and all the while giving them the support they need behind the curtain.
Imagine Satan, Levi, and Mammon grouping together and creating a PowerPoint presentation. With Satan's organizing skills, Levi's technological know-how, and Mammon's morally grey skills of espionage, they gather all the characters together and teach a class on what to do and not to do around MC. Things like having a clear voice in text messages to keep them from having anxiety. Or not slamming doors, not entering their room without knocking, reminding them to drink water, knowing when to give them time to breathe etc. Everyone takes it seriously (some might say too seriously), including Belphie who didn't even sleep for a second during the whole thing.
What about an MC who takes on too much and never says anything about it? At first, Lucifer, Barbatos, and to a lesser degree Diavolo, are pleased that they've found a human with a strong work ethic and a love for responsibility. Little do they know that while part of that might be true, they are doing it because they are non-confrontational, a people pleaser, or try to prove their worth through success (or all of the above). They burn themselves out and forgo their other needs to conserve all their energy for the work that's been given to them, and it's not until it becomes a serious health issue that anyone really notices. They all take a blow when they come to know how much they had been pushing a human beyond their capabilities. So they tell MC to do less, not expecting the human to try and convince them that it wasn't an issue, maybe even apologizing for failing. Now they all have to keep an eye on MC and make sure they don't take things too far, and make sure that MC knows that their worth isn't tied to how much gets done in a day and they don't think of them any less for taking breaks or time for themselves. And maybe they all learn to take care of themselves a little more for it too. Especially one work-a-holic demon known as Pride.
How about an MC that hates the way they look? No matter what that might be. Body size, shape, height, skin-tone, skin-color, scars, blemishes, freckles, etc. What if it was drilled into their head since they were a child that they were not beautiful? What if they can't look into the mirror or take any photos of themselves without feeling sick? How about being around a demon like Asmo? Maybe resenting him, maybe avoiding him, maybe wishing they were like him. It probably would hurt Asmo to see someone hating themselves and their body so intently. Maybe it's because it reminds him of himself. Maybe they both have to sit down and rethink what beauty really means? It's a long process for both of them.
All of them work with the human with their image and not in a shallow way like trying to deny the things they have and who they are. They find ways around pictures, because there are more ways to keep memories rather than selfies and commemorative photos.
Or what if:
Beel: *In MC's room.* Alright, we'll just do some basic stretches.
MC: Okay, just tell me what to do.
Beel: Well, if you want, you can put on some music to make it more relaxing.
MC: Music? *Looks a little nervous.* If you want...
*MC then turns some music on their phone on the lowest setting and sets it on their bed.*
Beel: Um...you can turn it up more than that if you want.
MC: Louder? Really?
Beel: Don't you think it's a little quiet?
MC: Oh...um...okay... *turns it up by one more click.* Is- Is that okay? I can turn it down again.
Beel: *Opens his mouth, confused for a moment before shutting it again. In the quickest second, he's in his demon form.* Who do I need to find?
MC: B-Beel?!
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2tcs · 3 months
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I love your content so far from what I read and I had a crack I did just hit me
After a while the bat family finally decides to get rid of Ra al Ghul like take him down and take his position from him as the leader of the League of assassins to dismantle it
Ra al Ghul never warned anyone if they want to actually become like the main watcher over the Lazarus pits but they have to go to a 2000 door haunted house run by the ghost King who is 15 years old
So I'll be entire bat family is practically being put through spooky's haunted house 1000 doors except it's Phantom haunted house 2000 doors
Danny believes that anyone that wants the Lazarus pits is undirectly like a bad person so he kind of uses it to a trauma dump on people and be mentally tortured these people so they drop out of taking it
He's getting help from Ghost like Ember Techn, Poindexter, Wulf even cujo
Like they put Ra al Ghul through hell and now they're going to put the bat family to that because they have no idea or not if they're good people
So it's just Danny traumatizing them by making with the horrors and some of the deaths of the ghost the last shocker is at the last door they have to relive Danny's death then Danny will come out and hand them a key and then proceed to give them the whole feel about being the new owners of Lazarus pits
I just enjoy the idea of Danny and the ghost being terrifying
I don't think Danny knows enough ghosts to pull off 2000 doors but he does know Ghost Writer. As well as several ghosts who could make them relive each other's worst/most traumatic moments. Ras probably went alone when he did his trial. But if the whole batfam is going in? So much ammo.
It could start out simple. Lure them into a sense of ease.
---
"Huh. When the scary voice said we would be facing trials to prove our worth. I didn't expect sentient, cuddly blobs." Duke said petting one of the blobs that was chirping happily. Not noticing as his fellow vigilantes and friends also began to cuddle the blobs.
It takes them three hours before they realize that they've lost time and begin to fight the calming effect that the blobs exude and head towards the door on the other side of the room.
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And maybe embarrassing.
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"Once upon a time."
"WHY THE FUCK AM I WEARING TIGHTS!"
"I don't know. I think they look good."
"Shut up dickface."
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Even a bit annoying at times.
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"I AM THE BOX GHOST!"
"WTF! This guy is more annoying than Condiment King!"
"At least he isn't dumping ketchup on us!"
---
The first few hundred doors could even be called easy for people like the bats.
---
"Quit hitting yourself. Quit hitting yourself." Jason said after he ripped off the robot's arm and started to use it to beat the robot.
"Hay. Don't you think you're going too far Hood?"
"Stop your incelence! For I. Skulker. The greatest hunter ever. Shall be the one to skin you alive and use your pelts as a rug in my den!"
"You were saying Dickolase?"
"Give me the other arm. I want to break this pinata open."
---
But that ease does not last long. Soon they are faced with the suffering of others.
---
"What was that. What was that!" Steph shouted as she clung to Tim. Trembling from the adrenalin rush.
"I think. I think we just died? In a motorcycle crash? Did we just get hit by a CAR while on a MOTORCYCLE?!"
"That motorcycle crash was quick compared to how I died! So shut the fuck up!" Jason yelled before stomping toward the next door. And if his hand was shaking as he reached for the doorknob? No, they weren't
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And even faced with the consequences of their failures. Failures that nearly tore them apart. Failures that could still tear them apart.
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"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"Shut up old man! You never asked! You weren't there! You're Never There!"
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And temptations.
---
Dick looked around as his family piled into the living room of the manor. Everyone was laughing at something Duke said. Jason laughed the loudest as he slung his arm over Tim's shoulder for support. (Wrong, this is wrong, why is this wrong?)
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And nightmares.
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"Give them back! GIVE THEM BACK!" Bruce screamed to the sky as he clutched his kids as close to him as he could. Falling into despair as their bodies, their corpses, grew colder. The echos of their own cries of pain and anguish ringing in his ears.
---
They still manage to fight through the physical and psychological horror. Even when they are pushed to experience torture that not even their most vial villain would do to them.
---
"I'm alive! I'm me! Mom! Dad! Please! Please!" "Shut up you freak! Honey, get the muzzle. I don't want to hear its lies anymore." The woman, the monster, in the teal hazmat suit said as she pulled out their intestine and hung it on a rack for further examination.
---
They persevered. And when they leave the last door behind? And are faced with a young boy, no older than 14, who looks like an amalgamation of all of the Robins when they were that age?
---
Danny watched as the would-be-owner of the Lazarus Pits stumbled through the door. Only for an entire group of Kevlar waring fruitloops to fall out of the door.
"So you are the fools who think to control the blood of King Lazarus. So far you have seen many facets of the horrors that can come from..." Danny started his monologue before he was interrupted by the one wearing a cloak reminiscent of a bat falling to his knees.
"Please. Please say we don't have to fight you. I can't. I can't." He said before breaking down in tears as several others joined him in his cry fest.
"Shit." Danny said as he looked at the people before him. Panicking over what he was supposed to do.
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