#man deserves a break from those three clowns

[ijustthinkhesneat]

Okay but realistically imagine what Bruce would do when Jason came back.

Chasing this knee criminal who keeps referencing his dead son. Pushing his buttons. How dare he presume to know anything about Jason. The lost light of his life, his baby boy. He can feel that darkness creeping around the edges of his mind. That pit of anger and murderous rage he is scared he will never pull himself out of.

Hearing that robotic voice taunting him about failing Jason, failing to avenge him. He tried, god he tried. He was so close he had the knife against the jokers throat. And then he was being pulled away. Clark stopped him. Told him that he wasn’t acting like himself.

God he loves Clark but he can still feel that small pit of resentment fester whenever he thinks about bleeding that clown.

How dare he say he never loved Jason. He would have given everything to have him back for even a moment. His wealth, his status, Batman, his soul, Gotham itself. There were only three things he would never trade away. His sons. His precious boys. He would destroy himself without a second thought for their happiness. If there was anything he could give, any price he could pay to just see his baby one more time he would do it happily.

Then they are alone. He’s cornered the Red Hood. An abandoned warehouse, a bomb. He should tear him apart where he stands. He dares to make a mockery of his greatest failure? How he failed Jason. His son. His baby. His world. He will make him suffer.

Then the helmet comes off. A young man. Gentle black curls with a shock of white running through them. A domino mask over his face. It can’t be. And the mask comes away. And Bruce sees them. Those beautiful blue eyes that have haunted every sleepless night. Filled with hatred. Swimming with green fury.

But none of it matters. All the anger in Bruce is gone. He tears of the cowl, he has to see, has to see his baby’s face. Jason has a gun leveled at him, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters because Jason is here. He is alive in front of Bruce. Every wish, every regret is washed away in that moment.

Bruce falls to his knees, it’s too much, more than a wretched creature like him deserves. Jason is stunned. His hand shakes slightly. He moves forward, places the gun against Bruce’s temple and still there is no fear, just wonder and adoration in Bruce’s eyes.

“Is it you Jaylad? Please this has to be a dream, please let this be real.” Jason is shocked he expected anger, disappointment, bargaining, but all there is is a father, a broken man looking upon his life’s purpose renewed before his eyes. Bruce reaches up, slowly, reverently, like at any moment Jason will disappear, he takes Jason free hand and holds it against his cheek and then Bruce’s weeps. Not silent tears or stoic crying. He weeps, snotty and red, hiccuping sobs wracking his body. He can only repeat Jason’s name like a prayer.

Jason doesn’t even realize he has dropped the gun. His Dad is caressing his hand, wailing and babbling apologies and platitudes. Jason feels himself sink to his knees. Tears spilling from his own eyes. His Dad still loves him, never stopped, he doesn’t even care that Jason had only a week ago filled a duffel bag with human heads. He is holding onto Jason like he is sacred and he can feel the anger breaking under the desire to be engulfed by his father.

In that moment they both know that no matter what happens, they’ve come home and for the first time in a long time they both feel whole.

[brandongamesall]

Okay, I hope I can rank the rest, because I feel like the rest are in deserving of their placements! Here we go!

6. King Dice - The man himself. He is just too easy. After all the Mini Bosses (some of them BS), It's like you get to him and it's so easy... OH WAIT! But you probably only ended up with 2 lives left like I did! And then you missed one parry and dashed the wrong way and died... 20 times reaching to this point. Yeah, not a big fan of this "patience game" then make it here just to die more and more. But, over time, I started to love this phase because parrying the cards became so much easier (if you're not Ms. Chalice). Overall, now knowing how to do the maneuvers, I actually love this fight and think it's a break from the BS.

5. The Devil - Kind of ironic to put him next, but he is the best final boss in the game. This is the longest lasting boss, his first phase and third phase will ALWAYS SUCK A**. But, you can get good RNG with the first phase... The hand claps can get to you if you don't have double jump or aren't careful enough. I have always died most on the first phase or resented because of the bubbles, the spinning fire, or the hand claps. The second phase is my favorite because the parries are easy, but if you miss, run the heck away. And the last phase... you mainly need round about or chaser IMO. Though, without a doubt, the most challenging and a good one to end on.

4. Cala Maria - um... never can get mad at this one because I love the attacks all around! First phase is the most annoying, but I love dodging mechanics, the parrying, and it's easy to get a super in the first phase in like 30 seconds. Second phase has to be my favorite and the third phase is a piece of cake. Talking about cake 🫣💗 jkjk Cala Maria, she can call me at anytime though... she herself probably brought her to be up here.

3. Werner Werman - it's like taking a break from the hard bosses to go into an easy boss. After dying 500 times into the game, you finally get a boss that helps you relax and experience new attacks. I love every phase and every aspect of this boss. The only two annoying things about this is, it's hard to get supers until the end of the fight though AND the second phases bottle caps can be very bad RNG. Other than that, I enjoy this boss almost to a tee!

2. Phantom Express - BEST BOSS LAYOUT THIS WHOLE GAME! 🤚✋️ No lie, I love going from the first phase with the roundabouts, to the second phase with lobber and roundabout switch ups on each head, the maneuvers for the third phase, and make it to the front of the train to unlock the heart in the cage. Overall, it's a nice experience. Sure you die a lot, but this one is always fun to always come back to! It's not like you're panicking every single second like so many others.

1. Beppi the Clown - Only recently I've had so many issues with this boss. Without Invisible Dash, first phase is hard. Second stage can suck so much with the yellow horse and roller coaster. But nothing compares to the last phase. OH MY GOD, RIP THOSE PENGUINS TO SHREDS! But... he's the easiest of the first three on isle two. I guess I love the aesthetic of the boss and the theme, not much the later phases. Plus, it's fun to die on that level because you can scream "Beppi the B**ch". LOL!

0. Cagney Carnation - I truly love and respect this boss! The reason why this is second to last is because his fight is just... in your control. Not once in any phase (non-S Rank) did I feel it was his fault I lost any lives. Do I think it gets overwhelming? YES! But, I know it's my own mistakes that make this boss harder. Especially the last phase when you get greedy for the pink flowers... made that mistake too many times. And this was the first boss I fought that made me feel like I earned my win. Not like airplane lady who had UFOs and was being a pansy about it. Or like the frog dudes who would spawn three tiger platforms in a row. No. I earned this win through plain strategy and mechanics. This is my ultimate favorite boss gameplay wise.

-1. Which brings me to my last boss, Chef Saltbaker - I ranked this boss the ultimate boss of Cuphead for one reason... Story. This boss literally tells you a story through each phase. And the fact you can tell he's just pure evil making the strawberries cry, makes me hate him more. But, towards the end, he breaks down showing he only cares for himself in the second to last phase. And as a soul floating around towars the end of the fight, his last resort was to give a weak attack, making us realize he's giving up, and this was our moment to set everyone and everything free. It is truly one of the best masterpieces of a boss. Not to include it takes a lot of skill and precision to go through each phase. But notice how each phase kind of gets easier? That's what I think makes it more beautiful in the end. Because it wasn't until the third phase that it actually got pretty easy. Though, many people, including myself just kept dying on the first phase, rage quitting a lot just because we couldn't handle the pain of the first phase or the beginning of the second phase. But perseverance and hope kept us fighting, and realizing the third and final stage was that easy made it the most challenging, relaxing, and rewarding boss of the whole game. The End.

There's my ranking of all characters. I hope you all enjoyed my explanations for them all 💜🙂

[quartarcade]

Crazy shit my friends have said but as inbox starters part 2

Part one. you are allowed to adjust these in whatever deems appropriate to your muse!

"I'm psychically passing on my brain hemorrhage onto you."

"You're at a ten I need you to being it down to a three."

"You deserve everything I send to you."

"You will die in six seconds, and I forgot how to count."

"God gave him his last breath and right now he's holding it."

"Burn in the bowels of hell like the shit you couldn't take on this day."

"Start chucking buckets, buddy."

"I'm playing 3d chess while you're out here playing baby checkers, stop eating the pieces, dumbass!"

"I hope you're in a gaming mood because you're about to speedrun the rest of your fucking life."

"Change the card color one more time and I'm changing your birth certificates date to never."

"May your fate not be the same as Icarus, you waxed-winged bitch."

"Why are there potatoes on the floor?"

"I've had just about enough of your crusty ass in my realm!"

"THAT WAS SO CHEAP IT AINT EVEN ON THE DISCOUNT RACKET. THEY'RE GIVIN IT OUT FOR FREE."

"I'm proud of my feet, they brought me to a lot of places."

"Sorry, the demons came out."

"Those nuggies are mine and that clown's a wash."

"It's not gay, it's tactical bro."

"You've stolen from my people! You've poisoned my crops!"

"I wouldn't be in your shoes, we wear different pairs of shoes."

"Your ass would have been grass and they would have mowed it."

"I'm gonna get so close to his face he's gonna see the whites of my eyes before he sees the whites of the pearly gates."

"Rome wasn't built in a day, but this ass-beating will!"

“My knees! God broke them to nerf me!”

"These arrows can tell me where to go, but only god can tell me how close hell is!"

"I took a ton of Demerol and I thought I became religious."

"She's/He's/They're dying and my lean is mixed. Let's get to work."

"I don't care what you look like so long as you look like you've met god."

"I've inserted a cow with sunglasses and now time is unstable!"

"You can't prove I lost if I'm dead."

"Instead of frozen, its colden. It was really hard breaking it together."

" I hate to tell you this, [name], but Papa John is real and He Can Hurt You."

"Everyone knows the C in Chess stands for Cuck."

"You don't know what that pufferfish did."

"I like my men lean and mean.. and preferably a machine."

"I GOTTA SHOOT BACK TO CHRISTMAS."

"If they are the 1% they're gonna get 100% of these hands."

"Waste my time once more, Petty Man."

"FUCK YOU YOU WANNA TEST GOD? I WANNA TEST CHILLI'S!"

"Everybody knows that the perfect gamer cup is a red solo cup that has a bite taken out of it."

"I did kill myself once and won."

"Someone's fucking corpse just flung into me and reversed the polarity, the alignment, and the religious affiliation of my knees."

"I gotta go mow my drive thru."

"Does his mom love him? I sure hope so."

"Who knows? The power of fish is endless."

"I'm gonna dox you so I can beat your ass publicly".

"Because I saw the future, and you're not in it."

"Want me to cancel your heartbeat? There you go!"

"We got no time to fuck around, only to find out."

"What's stupid is thinking you need permission to ask questions."

[vbee-miya]

helloo!!! could i get a matchup for bnha?? :0 (this is the first time im requesting something sorry if i say anything wrong msfnsnnd) im 18 (i turned 18 only some days ago lol), i use he/they pronouns (im a trans boy:]) and im gay mdmfms im an isfp and a hufflepuff if that matters!!! im v introverted and shy at first and im not someone who likes to go out because i have trouble with loud noises n too much people, but whenever i go out im the kind of person who talks too much (when im w friends) and is a literal clown, although i still cant talk with people outside my circle so other people have to often speak up for me (esp when i want to buy stuff mssmfmsmdlmao), as for my traits, ig im kind of pessimist when it comes to myself? but super optimistic when it comes to others, im also v anxious, protective towards ppl i like and very, very blunt, because i speak without thinking,,, i also daydream a lot and get distracted even more, i have a lot of energy too but i just dont show it so thats that!! as for hobbies im a writer and an artist! (daydreaming helps a lot for some reason), i like playing videogames and that stuff, and i also love researching things such as bugs (i love them but if you put a bug Infront of me i'd cry) and human behavior:], ii also have a lisp so how i speak in every single Language sounds funny,, im basically what would happen if you combined a nerd, anxiety, a clown and too much coffee (i cant even drink coffee bc of my adhd tho since it makes me very sleepy) hehebw i hope that information is good!! sorry for rambling too much again aa

༺❀༻ matchup ༺❀༻

i don't see why not, here ya go.

hop in on the adventures of tintin. 

he doesn’t mind going out to places that are quiet, or places that have little to no interaction with people. so probably like hanging around his dormitory or if given the chance when the school is on break he’d invite you to his place or if you ever offer, then you guys could hang around at your place. 

mirio to me is the type of guy who can easily warm up to people and usually knows what to say and do. i mean after all, what do you expect from someone in the big three? so even hanging out that random silence of awkwardness would cease to exist. the more you both start getting to know each other and start creating that good rapport he’d be able to talk about anything and everything. and let's say there’s a topic you love talking about that isn’t within his knowledge, then no worries he’d be more than willing to learn and listen about it. 

when you guys are outside, potentially to go out eating and or to buy things, mirio is your man, your buddy. you bet he’d be the one doing all the talking. i mean you can’t really shut him up. anyways when you guys go out to buy stuff he’d actually buy anything you’d want and that’s a fact. he’s generous. 

pessimism is natural, anyone can feel those doubts and it’s so easy seeing things negatively. especially about oneself. but as optimistic as mirio can be he’d understand where you’re coming from and rather than saying haphazardly things like “don’t think like that” “don’t say that'' he'd be more than willing to hear you out and encourage the hell out of you. because no one deserves to be thought about like that especially from us. 

your bluntness in my headcanon is something that catches him off guard sometimes, though he’d appreciate the bluntness. he’s most definitely the type to accept critical criticism or just anything about him. in terms of self-improvement. 

every time you have that burst of energy mirio would think that it’s cute. and sometimes if not most times would be highly fascinated with your daydreams and would actually give great writing ideas to write about as they’re not too complex and can be worked around rather quickly. 

there’s a funny little headcanon i have where he doesn’t mean to put a bug at your face, he just thought the stick bug was really cool and knew to some degree you’d research about them potentially. 

he’d wouldn’t even notice your lisp and would actually say that he doesn’t hear it. but till one day he really notices it and his world opened anew.

[455wwwww]

HOWS IT GOIN ENRI

tl;dr: it goin.

me, late 2020: oh hey let's dig up those ancient drafts i had for that one untitled sci-fi/cyberpunk project. wow thats fucking dusty but man my girl A. deserves to be known by the world and i need a distraction from various work/life shit. what can go wrong right?

me, early 2021: what the fuck. enri from circa 2012 you were NOT cooking. and DUDE you did poor A. so dirty! thankfully me from 2021 can fix it all as it's nothing. that's surely possible after eight or nine year break from writing. on the account of me being once critically acclaimed author (two of my acquaintances liked my stuff).

me, early 2022: okay i have a very rough outline and a ~vision~. it'll be a relatively short novel, only about 10 chapters or so. 15 tops. 120,000 words, maybe 150,000. there'd be occasional angst and some speckles of fucked up shit, but it's gonna be pretty lighthearted in general. not saying the ending is truly happy, but it's not bad either.

me, late 2022: fuck yeah FUCK YEAH it's all coming together i am genius and my friends liked that one short story set in the same universe :) THEY LIKED A. TOO I AM GOD OF WRITING

me, early 2023: enri from 2022 had a massive skill issue and we're scraping almost everything that dumbass thought to be actually good. also no way it's gonna be 150,000 words or 15 chapters, i'm already at those numbers and it's not even a half of what i have to say. also hey. sorry to break it to you but A. needs more depth. and your MC is pathetically bland. like i understand that initially the guy had nothing but his name and what, two lines of brief description? whatever. that's not how we work. go and write at least 5 short stories about his past. and 5 more about A.'s daily life and such. yeah yeah put them in situations. more. more. MORE.

me, mid-2023: please stop putting these guys in situations. this is getting out of hand. please go back to the main story. your stupid little sketchy comics won't do it. you're writing a novel. for fucks sake just get back to writing the main thing. no more side stories. and it's just me or the whole thing gotten much darker lately? nah. impossible. there's even more jokes now. whats gallows humor.

my proofreader: hey and what if [redacted] ended up a traitor?

me: BRO NO. WHAT. NO.

me (hours later, smoking on the balcony): damn that would actually slap... FINE, new canon accepted. aw shit, the ending is definitely far from happy now.

me, early 2024: so. good news: MC and A. both are fucking clowns now. unhinged little shits. cringefail disastrous assholes. i am very normal about them both. bad news: there's so much to rewrite it's killing me. i am constantly rolling that stupid rock and to no avail. this is version 12 or maybe 16 or maybe 82728384 of the first three chapters. i stopped keeping count on 9th. this is hell. the light in my eyes is fading just as it had faded in the story itself. one day i'll be free. one day i'll submit the first chapter to my proofreader again.

me, mid 2024 (we're here now): *slaps the draft* 70 chapters. 65 if we're lucky. not looking at the word count anymore. come what may. there's only one ending to this story and it feels like eating glass. libreoffice crashed once again but we stay silly. the size of all additional materials, notes, outlines and such combined is more than i initially anticipated the whole story to be. it's fine. it's going to be fine. the path still remains to be walked but the route is clear. and we're going to make it. we're going to make it. no matter what awaits at the end. there could never be another ending.

[ilopisara]

07.06. 20:37 | Ilo Pisara vs Latvian Ice Clowns 7 - 6

Alright, folks! Let's break down that nail-biter of a game against the Latvian Ice Clowns. We squeaked out a 7-6 win in overtime—talk about keeping us on our toes! First off, Jani Saari was an absolute beast with five goals and two assists. The guy's hotter than a jalapeño in July! If he keeps this up, we might have to start calling him "The Finnish Flash." Teppo Winnipeg also deserves some love for his three assists and stellar puck-moving skills. With an 88% pass completion rate, he's basically the Steve Nash of hockey. Now let's talk about Macho Fantastico—two goals but fourteen giveaways? Come on man, are you trying to gift-wrap wins for the other team? Clean it up or I'll personally send you back to Pee-Wee hockey. Yuri Tarde between the pipes... six goals against with only eleven saves? Yikes. Your save percentage is lower than my grandma’s bowling score. Step it up before I replace you with a cardboard cutout. Historically speaking, we've been riding high lately (except those hiccups against Teddy Beers and BushWhackers). But if we keep playing like this rollercoaster ride from hell, we'll be Ilo Pisara - The Comedy Club again soon enough. Future implications: tighten defense and fewer turnovers unless we're aiming for heart attack-inducing games every night! In summary: great job winning but let’s not make it so dramatic next time! #IloPisaraForever

[loosesodamarble]

Prior to Morgen's confession...

Morgen: I wonder when Nacht will confess to Josele. It’s obvious how infatuated he is with her.

Yami: Dude, why don’t you confess?

Morgen: I’ll have to see how Nacht feels about it first.

Yami: (internal screaming)

...

Nacht: Ugh, I hate to see Morgen be such a simp.

Yami: Jealous because you like her, aren’t you?

Nacht: No. *Everyone* thinks she’s strong and brave and beautiful, but Morgen takes it to the extreme.

Yami, thinking: So I’m right.

...

Yami, while sparring with Josele: So you're in love with Nacht and Morgen?

Josele: Completely enamored. It's awful. What do I do?

Yami: Tell them? Then they can tell you if they feel the same. And from there the three of you can figure out how to continue.

Josele: Wha-? No! That's completely unreasonable!

Yami: (slams his sword into Josele's, breaking both in the process)

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 313: Deku VS Lady Nagant

Previously on BnHA: Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai Lady Nagant showed up to fire a cupid’s arrow into my heart, and a bunch of literal bullets into my son. Deku was all “oh shit it’s Hawks’s super-hot badass murder senpai, what do I do, let me think back to Hawks’s advice for a sec.” Flashback!Hawks was all “anyway Deku so if my super-hot badass murder senpai ever shows up you’re basically screwed so you’d better abscond the fuck out of there.” Present!Deku was all “lol idek why I flashed back to that conversation since I’m just going to do the exact opposite of what Hawks said” and charged directly toward Nagant because WHY NOT. Overhaul was all “waah I need to get back to my boss who I put in a coma out of love” and Nagant was all “jesus christ why did I even bring you here” and had a flashback to AFO who was all “ILU NAGANT IMMA GIVE YOU AN EXTRA QUIRK SO PLEASE CAPTURE DEKU FOR ME PLEASE AND THANKS” and yeah. Shit is all over the place right now and I love it.

Today on BnHA: All Might gets attacked by a pair of discount assassins and is all “Call an ambulance! ...BUT NOT FOR ME” and it’s really badass but also I really wish he would stop tempting fate like this. Lady Nagant is all “[casually flies around town shooting shit]” and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t read an entire chapter of just that. Deku is all, “[gets shot (≥_<)]” and releases a giant Smokescreen which prompts En to show up. En is all, “( •᷄⌓•᷅ ) (⌣̀ Δ⌣́) ( •̀_•́ )σ (¬､¬) (눈_눈)” which I consider to be a high point of both the chapter and of my life. The chapter ends with Deku using the Third’s quirk to launch a bunch of random objects at Nagant so that he can jump up and grab her arm all sneaky-like, and I’m sure this is going to prompt another week’s worth of discourse that I don’t care about at all, but fuck it, I’m having a good time.

OH WE’RE CUTTING BACK TO ALL MIGHT WELL THAT’S NICE I GUESS. CONGRATS ON NOT BEING DEAD

you named your car??

you named it Hercules??

I love you so much??

please marry me you giant fucking dork???

lmao speaking of huge fucking dorks

who the fuck are you clowns. la dee da we’re gonna murder All Might with our synchronized spear attack!! I mean... they’re clearly trying their best... maybe I should just be nice and politely hype them up like All Might is so clearly trying to do

like okay, but we all agree that this is actually the least intimidating attack any of us has ever seen, right?? these guys zipped up their hoodies all serious-like and are trying to attack All Might and Hercules with their Walmart tiki torches, but just, no?? right?? like the only way this could possibly be effective is if they were trying to kill All Might with secondhand embarrassment

“those are assassins” this is a VERY generous assessment, All Might

OH MY GOD THE TIKI TORCHES ACTUALLY KILLED THE FUCK OUT OF HERCULES

[slaps roof of car] this baby can fit so many weaponized festive backyard lighting solutions in it

and yet, even after watching this with my own two eyes, I still can’t take these dudes seriously. idek what it is. anyways r.i.p. Hercules, I loved you a lot but I guess you weren’t actually a very good armored car were you

omg they didn’t know it was All Might??

okay 1) for a moment there I was like “oh hey maybe they’re not so bad after all” but then a moment later it was like “ah nope, they are.” like, that was an interesting .06 second emotional journey there. anyways 2) All Might you have my permission to kick their asses for this disrespect, and 3) anyone else all of a sudden getting “wouldn’t this be an interesting time for Stain to suddenly show up” vibes?? no?? just me???

(ETA: hmm tbh I’ve still got those vibes and they haven’t gone away lol. Stain?? you out there buddy?? do you want to be cool for just once in your life. ball’s in your court pal.)

OH SNAP ALL MIGHT ARE YOU REALLY GONNA DO IT ARE YOU GONNA KICK THEIR ASSES

PROTECTIVE DAD MODE ACTIVATED?? BECAUSE YOU KNOW I’M HERE FOR THAT SHIT, SO YEAH, FEEL FREE

omg he’s shouting at them about how much Deku has suffered lmao and they’re just like falling over from being scolded

so they have absolutely no idea what he’s talking about though, right? “SIR THIS IS A WENDY’S” well whatever, you killed his pet car so he’s in a bad mood now

OH MY GOD

LIKE, JUST SO WE’RE ALL CLEAR, THESE FOUR PAGES SO FAR HAVE MADE ALMOST ZERO SENSE. LIKE MAYBE 2% SENSE TOPS. BUT ASK ME IF I CARE. GO AHEAD AND ASK. I SAID GO AHEAD, IT’S OKAY. ...NO I DON’T CARE AT ALL THANK YOU FOR ASKING

(ETA: also, the more I look at this panel, the more I’m just like, why the hell would you phrase it like that though, sob. way to doubly tempt fate?? are you trying to give Horikoshi a challenge??)

and now back to Deku who is randomly bouncing around the city and narrating it to himself just in case he was confused about why he was doing this

who are you talking to Deku. but thanks we appreciate it

man you gotta love that overconfidence. the smartest guy in the world warned you away from this lady, so SURE, LET’S RUN RIGHT UP TO HER. “I APPRECIATE YOUR INPUT, FLASHBACK!HAWKS, BUT I’LL TAKE IT FROM HERE” well okay then!!

I think it would be funny if RHA.com put little Buzzfeed-style polls in between the chapter pages so they could survey people at random intervals as they read their way through the chapter. like, you finish this page and then there’s a little poll there asking “do you think Deku’s plan of catching up to Lady Nagant and finding out where Shigaraki is will work?”, and you click “no” just like everyone else and then nod as the results show that 97% of your fellow readers also picked “no”, and you chuckle to yourself wondering how many of the 3% accidentally clicked on the wrong option by mistake, and then you keep on reading

ANYWAY, SO

HOW’S THAT PLAN WORKING OUT FOR YOU SO FAR DEKU. nice kick, though!!

omggggggg

ouch

update: Deku’s plan not really working out. sources tell me my boy has been fucking shot. this is an ongoing story and we will keep you posted with the latest developments as they come in

wait what

feel free to explain to the rest of us what all of this “UNLESS...” and “THAT POSSIBILITY...” shit means anytime, Deku

oh lol did he realize she could fly??

BREAKING NEWS UPDATE, CNN’s John King reports that Deku is still fucked. eyewitness reports now coming in that Nagant is doing no-look shots and basically not even giving a fuck. sources described her mannerisms and expression as “sexy, but in like an effortless sort of way.” we will continue to bring you the latest

so now there’s basically an entire page of Deku being all “ah fuck so she’s basically closing in and she could already hit me with impossible accuracy even from Far Away, so if that’s the case then her being Up Close is probably going to be even worse!” making good use of that Big Hero Brain there, Deku

so now what, you’re doing some kind of spiraling kick thing?? how is that going to help

oh lol he’s using Smokescreen to create some cover. aww, good for you Deku you named one of your Smokescreen attacks

OH NO LADY DON’T TELL ME AFO DIDN’T EVEN FILL YOU IN ON THE BASICS

seriously, AFO?? you basically told her what Deku’s exact strategy was going to be but then couldn’t be assed to drop that little, small, barely notable piece of knowledge that Deku is rocking multiple quirks?? is it supposed to be a secret or something?? you dropped the ball here man

damn this is getting intense now

(ETA: the way En is poking Deku’s head in that first panel is fucking sending me, I love this guy so much omg.)

well then what are you planning, Deku?? I’m actually really curious!! I am genuinely starting to be invested in this fight scene not only in the “wanting to see who wins and how that impacts the plot” sense, but also in the “wanting to see how it happens because the choreography and strategy is actually pretty cool” sense, which honestly hasn’t happened for quite a while now! this is fun

anyway so what’s up Deku, are you going to use another quirk?? I’ve been speculating that he hasn’t actually unlocked the last two yet (since Two and Three didn’t exactly seem convinced when we last saw them), but maybe I’m about to be proven wrong

(ETA: well he clearly has Three’s obviously, but Two’s is still MIA, and that’s the one I am of course the most curious about. that’s the one we’re all curious about, let’s be real.)

OH SNAP???

AHHHH I’M HYPED LOL. ANOTHER SHINY NEW QUIRK LOL SHOULD I PUT UP THE USUAL DISCOURSE DISCLAIMER

(ETA: so yeah, after thinking on it, I’m not gonna say “please no Deku discourse on my blog” this week, but I probably will ignore any discourse that does come my way though, just because I don’t have much interest in getting involved in what would probably be a pretty repetitive discussion. like, I can just sum up my opinions (which is what they are) here instead. in fact here they are lol:

1) I like the SIXQUIRKS and I like seeing Deku be a badass.

2) I also don’t think Deku is too OP. more like he’s exactly as OP as he needs to be at the moment, given that we’re approaching the end of the series. I expect the other kids will also be pretty damn OP when we see them fight again. we’re just at that point now where they’re all badasses (as well they should be; they’ve grown a lot and they deserve it). it’s just that Deku’s the one we’re getting to see right now.

3) of course I miss Kacchan and the others, but for me this vibes much closer to the MVA arc where even though I missed them, I was still having a blast (as opposed to the dark days of the Basement arc where I was pretty much losing it lol). like, even though Kacchan’s my favorite, I still love Deku a lot and this arc has been amazing for him getting to shine on his own (for like the first time, really).

4) y’all know I love the OFA plot and I’ve never been shy about that lol. I like all of the Vestiges a lot. Banjou and his over the top personality; En and his “guy you thought would be serious and :| all the time but is actually hyper-animated and ALL OVER THE PLACE” energy; Shiro who actually is a :| sort of guy lol; Three who I still expect will be fleshed out in a more detailed flashback at some point; and of course Two, who, well. you know what I think about him lol. Bakuverse is still on the table and I’m still hyped. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we still have yet to see Two actually talk to Deku (as opposed to talking to the other Vestiges while Deku is distracted). did he lend him his power yet?? or is he still holding out?? either way it’s definitely going to be a Big Thing when it finally happens and I can’t wait to see it.

5) Lady Nagant is Everything and just because Deku grabbed her arm doesn’t mean the fight is over yet lol. Overhaul hasn’t come into play yet either. not to mention that even if the fight is over, the “where do we go from here” part still has me excited either way. her connection to Hawks and the HPSC is very intriguing and we’ve barely touched on that as of yet; she definitely has more of a role to play in this.

6) last but not least, I feel like every week the discussion is all about how much focus Deku’s getting, and how OP he is or isn’t, and OFA this and OFA that, but meanwhile I’m actually so invested in the character development here though?? the way Deku has distanced himself from everyone (except for the Vestiges, because of course they’re already dead so it’s not like they can die again lol)?? the way he’s pushing himself far too hard and we can see the shadows in and under his eyes, and the fact that he never smiles, and even All Might has remarked on how he isn’t taking care of himself at all?? the fact that he’s so single-mindedly obsessed with focused on stopping AFO?? the fact that he’s still the same sweet old Deku despite everything and was so kind to that fox lady with the umbrella, but there was also something so sad about that scene because it felt like a reminder of the type of hero that he wants to be, but that he’s not allowed to be right now?? because the stakes are too high and the world is falling apart?? and he feels like he’s the only one who can do something about it?? and that he has to be?? and that he is putting so much pressure on himself right now, and it’s absolutely too much pressure for any one person to bear, and I feel like no one is fucking talking about this lol goddammit.

anyway so yeah. I have feels about this, and every week that slow-burn angst is getting more and more intense behind the scenes, and I feel like it’s all going to hit a breaking point eventually. sooner rather than later. it really feels like a mirror of Katsuki’s post-Kamino arc. where all that angst was just churning below the surface for like twenty chapters and then it finally was like “okay it’s time” and it all came bursting out and we got the best five chapters of the fucking series (in my admittedly biased estimation lol).

basically, I know that most of fandom is billing this as either the “villain hunt” arc or the “solo Deku SIXQUIRKS fighting arc” or whatever. but for me, it’s always been and still is the Deku Angst arc lol. the cool fights are a sexy bonus (the worldbuilding less so because even though it’s interesting to see society at such a low point, it’s also very depressing and gets old pretty fast), but for me the thing that’s really keeping me engaged chapter after chapter is seeing Deku like we’ve never seen him before. seeing him all quiet and withdrawn and brooding and focused on AFO, AFO, AFO, and seeing that “he just doesn’t take himself into account” mentality taken to extremes. I am invested in that. I’m soaking up that angst each and every week, and I’m invested in seeing what comes of it. it’s a big picture thing. week to week this arc might just seem like a bunch of villain fight scenes, sure. but Deku’s emotional journey is the thread that’s going to carry this arc through from beginning to end, and for that I’m willing to be patient.

anyway that turned into a BIG OL’ RANT there but yeah! so those are my thoughts on the disk horse as it currently stands. and like I said, I’m open to discussion, but tbh I will probably just wind up repeating these same talking points endlessly so just a fair warning lol.)

anyway so Three says Deku has yet to use his quirk at ALL but now he’s trying to combine it with another quirk?? damn. also please check out En’s face here you guys

En launching a sneak attack up my favorite character list by the sheer power of his expressions alone. he really knows how to make the most of his screentime

OH DAMN DEKU

at this point the 3% from that hypothetical poll earlier are starting to feel prettttty damn smug, I’ll bet. well shit

what in the fuck

?? so like releasing his chi or whatnot?? isn’t that basically just like base OFA all over again?? also Deku did you seriously just apologize to Gran’s cape

update: Nagant has turned her eyeball into a gun

hm. hmmmmmmm. ...okay yep, still somehow sexy

anyway so she’s just floating up there building suspense, as one does. lord I sure hope she has good reflexes because something tells me she’s going to need them

OH SNAP HE THREW GRAN’S CAPE AS A DECOY WHAAAAT OKAY THAT’S SOME SMART SHIT DEKU

LOL SHE’S MAD NOW

JESUS CHRIST SHE JUST NEVER TAKES A GODDAMN BREAK FROM BEING AWESOME HUH

DEKU ARE YOU JUST THROWING EVERY DAMN THING IN YOUR INVENTORY

but without the cape and the hood how will you continue to look like an enigmatic badass. you really can’t. which means we might finally be moving on from the wandering nomad part of this arc, stay tuned

LOL YOU MANIAC

I hope he went full Kacchan with the dialogue there. his face sure looks like it lol. popped out of a building all mad fdskljlkj omg

well this was fun, shit. I still have basically no idea what Three’s quirk does though lol. like, can he use it to charge up objects with kinetic energy or something?? but then what was all of that talk about combining it with one of the other quirks?? or was that just because he was using Smokescreen at the same time??

(ETA: having seen and read an additional half-dozen explanations of Three’s quirk, I can say with confidence that I still have basically no idea what it is or does.)

anyway so!! Deku is a badasssssss but something tells me not to count Nagant out just yet even so. also I really enjoy seeing Deku flip out on people like he doesn’t have a fucking hole in his torso because it reminds me of A CERTAIN SOMEONE and I always love to see him channeling that feral energy; I feel like it’s been a while

anyways good luck to you both!! I truly wish that both of you could win. but if not, then maybe you can at least become friends instead. you have so much in common, you both can fly and have multiple quirks and you’re both badasses, and plus it would just be really funny to see the look on Hawks’s face lmao

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Quiet Room

- Chapter 6 - ao3 - (previous tumblr pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

The Lan sect’s rules said Learning comes first, and that was because learning was the root of all things.

Humans were changeable and ever-changing, molded by their heritage and their environment; it was through careful education that they learned to comprehend goodness – it was only through constant learning that they could keep themselves walking on the path of righteousness.

Learning from books, learning from others, learning from one’s own mistakes; it didn’t matter.

What was important was that you couldn’t stop learning.

You had to keep moving forward.

Lan Wangji had for some time entertained the thought that his life had stopped when Wei Wuxian’s had. It had felt as though it had: it felt as if his heart had been irrevocably shattered, like a priceless vase that had once contained all his tender feelings – all those feelings that, lacking their container, would now slip through his fingers forever, leaving him as empty as a soulless puppet. He’d thought he was doomed never to love again, never to learn again, all his mind consumed with nothing by memories.

He’d been wrong, of course.

Even with Wei Wuxian gone, he was still learning.

There were his recent meditations on the subject of silence and noise, for one.

There were his wards, for another.

Lan Sizhui was a polite and thoughtful child, inquisitive but a little shy and hesitant, a little fearful to assert himself – a little too quiet, in a way that Lan Wangji was starting to be able to recognize as being not good, a silence and reticence born of concern and anxiety rather than genuine introversion. Luckily, there was also Lan Jingyi, who was and had always been the liveliest and most spirited of children, and yet he, too, was just a little bit too loud in a way that reflected his own method of displaying anxiety, another startling realization that was brand new.

Lan Wangji had always associated quiet with reserve and self-control, noise with carelessness and recklessness, but being in the controlled chaos of Qinghe and really sincerely listening to it, accepting it, came with its own set of revelations. He found that there were people who were naturally loud and those that made themselves be loud, just as there were those who were quiet and those who were forced into quietude. Lan Jingyi worried just as much as the next person, but he displaced those feelings through distraction rather than through the force of his willpower, taking on the role of clown or hero as suited each moment, unafraid to cast himself in the role of aggressor if it would allow Lan Sizhui the chance to play the mediator. The subconscious division of roles allowed Lan Sizhui to feel useful and in control, reducing his anxiety, while Lan Jingyi got to feel taken care of, which reduced his own – it was good, in a way, but after some consideration Lan Wangji carefully took them both in hand and told them that they would need to be more thoughtful about it.

Lan Sizhui could not, should not, always have to be the peacemaker, always yielding and kind and gentle and quiet: he deserved to be loud, too. He deserved to be assertive, to be heard, to feel entitled to take up space regardless of his utility to those around him. He should never feel like he had to pay in service for the right to exist.

And by the same token, Lan Jingyi shouldn’t feel burdened to always have to be the one to take the first step, always acting as the driving force, the loud and opinionated one. He should have the opportunity, and the obligation, to think through what he was doing or saying, to be thoughtful and careful, to sometimes yield if he wished; he should be granted space of his own to make sure that his actions were what he wished them to be rather than some impulse.

Lan Wangji only wished he’d had the wisdom to tell Wei Wuxian the same thing while he’d been alive.

He’d been so short-sighted when he was younger, at first unable to recognize how he felt about the man and then unable to figure out how to speak with him – he’d been unable to break his own habitual silence, and equally unable to see the depths concealed in Wei Wuxian’s brash arrogance, especially towards the end. Like Lan Jingyi, Wei Wuxian’s reckless courage was genuine, especially in the happy days of their youth; like Lan Jingyi, when things got bad, Wei Wuxian had taken refuge in more of the same, building himself walls made of noise that were designed to keep everyone out.

Wei Wuxian might have been noisy and loud, right to the very end, but in his own way he’d been just as alone as Lan Wangji in his excess of quiet.  

The next generation, Lan Wangji thought fiercely, would do better.

He felt comforted by that thought.

The children were chewing over Lan Wangji’s words as they walked along the outmost ramparts of the Unclean Realm, already inured to the glittering barrier that hung in their sky, full of arrays and inscriptions – they were accompanying Lan Wangji on his daily walk.

The Nie sect’s doctors had a very different regimen for curing illnesses than the Lan sect’s, he’d found. Thirty-three strikes of the discipline whip: in both places he’d gotten stitched back up, but while the Lan sect doctors had allowed him to retreat into seclusion, prescribing medicine and rest and self-reflection, the Nie sect doctors insisted on coupling medicine and meditation with exercise. Intermittent and gradual exercise, meant to increase flexibility and reduce muscle atrophy – it wasn’t really that different from what Lan Wangji had been left to do on his own back at home, but he found that it was easier to struggle against his stubborn body when he had company to encourage him to take that extra step beyond his limits, their voices pushing him when his own willpower was insufficient. Even the silent presence of the two children, walking beside him, helped him find the reason to keep going.

Truly, there was much to consider on the subject of quiet and noise, of loud and soft, of loneliness and isolation and how no amount of either introversion nor extroversion could alone save you from them.

Lan Wangji was still thinking it over when he heard a new noise.

It was also an old noise, painfully familiar from all those days of war – before he even consciously identified what the sound was, his back had straightened, his legs sinking into a prepared pose, his mind already summoning his spiritual energy to the forefront in case he needed to defend himself.

Cultivators, flying on swords at speed.

Lan Wangji looked up and saw them: men and women both, a small group – a forward scouting troop, small enough to be subtle and sneak ahead to see what was happening but large enough to ensure someone would be able to return to the main force and warn them if they did find something.

They were dressed in the colors of Yunmeng Jiang, and it was Jiang Cheng leading them.

Lan Wangji’s back stiffened.

He had not seen Jiang Cheng since the massacre at the Nightless City, although he’d heard the stories of how he had turned against his own shixiong and led the greatest of the forces that besieged the Burial Mounds. He’d decided then that he’d never wanted to see Jiang Cheng ever again – he hadn’t been able to comprehend how Jiang Cheng could do a thing like that to Wei Wuxian, who he’d loved.

He still didn’t understand, but he thought, perhaps, that he ought to be a little less hasty in judging others by his own standards.

He’d done enough of that.

“Hanguang-jun!” Jiang Cheng called, seeing him, and pulled ahead of all the other Jiang sect cultivators, leaving them hanging back warily. Lan Wangji turned to face him, conscious of the two young children still clinging to his hands and now half-hiding behind his robes – conscious, too, of the shimmering but translucent barrier that divided them from Jiang Cheng, the barrier that had been raised to protect the Unclean Realm from Lan Wangji’s own brother and all the mistakes he had made, well-meaning as they were. “Hanguang-jun, good, you can tell me, what is the meaning of…”

Jiang Cheng trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide and almost bulging from the force of how hard he was staring at Lan Wangji.

“Jiang Wanyin,” Lan Wangji said politely in greeting – or, well, politely enough.

“Lan Wangji,” Jiang Cheng said in return, his voice sounding strangled. “What…happened?”

Far too much to explain, so Lan Wangji didn’t, just waited for Jiang Cheng to continue with a more specific question.

“I mean, uh. The beacon went off,” Jiang Cheng said. He was still gawking, looking as though he were about to fall off his sword any second. “The – you know the one, the one that shows when a sect’s barrier defenses have been activated. I thought...”

He’d assumed there was an invasion, Lan Wangji realized, and had rushed over at once to try to help forestall it. It was a reasonable assumption, and a noble response: having once lost everything without being able to rely on the help of others, Jiang Cheng now sought to be the help that he had not had.

It was the sort of thing a righteous person would do, and in line with what Lan Wangji thought he’d known of Jiang Cheng’s character.

And yet…Jiang Cheng had still turned his back on Wei Wuxian.

Time and time again, he’d turned away fro him.

“I came to find out what happened, why they put up the shield,” Jiang Cheng continued. “I brought people with me to help, though I left them back a ways so it wouldn’t be an insult. And now I’m here and – and you’re here – and you’re…just…it’s…Lan Wangji, what happened to your forehead ribbon?”

Lan Wangji arched his eyebrows. “Is that your primary concern?”

Jiang Cheng waved his hands around, almost flailing, and Lan Wangji couldn’t quite help but feel a sudden stab of amusement – and then of sorrow, because the flailing was almost painfully familiar. He had seen Wei Wuxian do much the same when he encountered something unexpected, whether some threat or some new maneuver by the Wen sect or, in one notable instance, the unanticipated appearance of a fish in a place where one would not normally expect fish to be.

“I have taken a leave of absence from the Lan sect,” Lan Wangji finally explained, deciding to be magnanimous and take pity on his former comrade in arms. “The Nie sect has permitted me to remain with them while I determine my next course of action. As for the shield, there is no imminent invasion. The situation is – complicated.”

Jiang Cheng huffed. “You don’t say!”

Still, the explanation seemed to help steady him, somewhat, and Lan Wangji observed that Jiang Cheng did not look his best: tired, with circles under his eyes and an unhealthy skin tone. Too much work, too little rest, and probably nightmares…because of what had happened to Wei Wuxian, perhaps? But if so, why had he done it in the first place?

“I cannot let you in,” Lan Wangji added, even though technically he had one of the only remaining guest tokens that still functioned. Jiang Cheng nodded, seemingly having expected that. “I can escort you to the sect leader’s quarters to have your request for admission approved.”

That the person approving the request would probably be Nie Huaisang, Lan Wangji did not say – not so much out of caution, which would probably be justified, but rather out of a completely inexplicable urge to see Jiang Cheng start flailing once again upon finding out.

Was this how Wei Wuxian felt all the time?

Interesting.

He began to walk again, the children at his sides slowly coming out, and Jiang Cheng did him the courtesy of not mentioning how slow and stiff he was, although Lan Wangji thought he remembered enough of Jiang Cheng’s mannerisms to interpret the twisted grimace on his face as he glanced over time and time again as a look of concern.

After a little while in which Lan Wangji walked and Jiang Cheng floated alongside him on his sword, the Jiang sect cultivators lagging behind by a respectable distance, the children getting over their fear to start looking around again, Jiang Cheng finally cleared his throat.

“There’s a medicinal blend of herbs that can counteract the anti-clotting effects of the discipline whip,” he said. Lan Wangji glanced at him: Jiang Cheng was staring forward, not looking at him at all any more. “It makes it heal faster. I can pass the prescription along to the Nie sect’s pharmacists, if you like.”

Jiang Cheng had also been struck by the discipline whip, Lan Wangji suddenly remembered. It had been a matter of deep embarrassment for him during the war, making him reluctant to remove clothing even when they were rancid with blood and poisonous fumes.

“Thank you,” he said, and for some reason the children took that as their cue that Jiang Cheng was actually all right and burst out in a flood of questions.

Lan Jingyi wanted to know how Jiang Cheng’s clothing had gotten to be such a vivid shade of purple, while Lan Sizhui was more curious about his sword and how shiny it was – the concerns of children, unburdened by the memories or concerns of adults. Their questions made Jiang Cheng smile, and Lan Wangji thought briefly of the orphaned Jin Ling, who had been temporarily given to Jiang Cheng’s custody to pick up some of the traditions of his maternal sect. A fancy way of saying that the Jin sect wanted him out of the way for a few years until he was worth teaching their own ways to, but Lan Wangji suspected Jiang Cheng would have taken any excuse at all to remain close to his kin.

“What, now children aren’t too noisy for you?” Jiang Cheng asked Lan Wangji, and for the first time it occurred to Lan Wangji that the tossed out words, broken off and abrupt, might be meant as a friendly tease.

“I am reevaluating my relationship with silence,” he said, and Jiang Cheng smirked, amused.

“I bet you are,” he said. “Nie Huaisang alone would drive a man to distraction…”

Lan Jingyi laughed and clapped and that, and, inspired, Lan Sizhui followed suit.

And then, suddenly, Jiang Cheng frowned.

“A-Yuan,” he said, and Lan Wangji was suddenly cold from head to toe, the chattering of the children suddenly too loud in his ears: he had forgotten that Jiang Cheng had also visited the Burial Mounds. “That’s – that’s A-Yuan, isn’t it?”

“Jiang Wanyin…” Lan Wangji started, his voice sticking in his throat, then trailed off. He did not know what he could say that would work to convince Jiang Cheng that he was wrong when he was right, but neither could he admit to the truth. Even if Nie Mingjue had been kind enough to allow Lan Wangji to come to the Nie sect to stay, and to bring the two children with him, that had been under the premise that they were Lan sect children. If he ever found out that Lan Sizhui had been born surnamed Wen…

Nie Mingjue would not hurt a child, he was too righteous for that. But he might not be inclined to let that child grow up in his sect, either.

Jiang Cheng’s face was twisted in a strange sort of way, as if he couldn’t decide to be angry or relieved. “I thought he’d died,” he murmured, more to himself. “I thought…what is that?”

Lan Wangji was momentarily confused by the question, focused as he was by the terrifying implications of Jiang Cheng’s discovery, but then he saw that Jiang Cheng’s gaze went further into the distance.

He turned to look, then felt twist of unpleasantness deep in his belly: there was his brother in the sky, flying to the main gate on Shuoyue, and beside him was Jin Guangyao.

Why did you have to bring him? Lan Wangji thought, unhappy, but he already knew the answer to that. His brother trusted Jin Guangyao. Why wouldn’t he bring him?

If only he would trust the rest of them as much as he trusted that liar.

“We can discuss Lan Sizhui later,” Lan Wangji said, careful to emphasize both the surname and the courtesy name he’d given him – painfully obvious now that he thought about it, though at the time it had seemed only appropriate, the only name he could bestow that fit – and quickened his steps. “Now that my brother has arrived, things will become difficult.”

He wondered, a little bitterly, if his brother had even noticed that he was gone, or if he had been so thoroughly forgotten in his enforced ‘seclusion’ that it hadn’t even been thought of as a possibility.

“Lan Wangji!”

Lan Wangji came to a stop at Jiang Cheng’s shout. Suddenly full of anger, he turned his head back – surely Jiang Cheng didn’t hate Wei Wuxian so much that he wouldn’t let the matter of a small child go, even in the midst of a crisis?

Jiang Cheng was pointing into the distance. Strangely enough, it was not in the direction of the main gate, where Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao were even now landing, but somewhere even further beyond.

“Do you see it?” Jiang Cheng demanded, and his eyes were suddenly wild, his breathing disordered; he seemed far more disturbed than he had when he’d recognized A-Yuan. “Lan Wangji, tell me that you see it!”

Utterly lost, Lan Wangji focused his gaze on the far horizon. It was the same scenery as he’d seen there the past few days, the interspersed richness of the low valleys that quickly arced up into the mountains that surrounded the Unclean Realm. There was nothing there that was unusual…

Lan Wangji spotted a very faint glimmer.

Sun, he thought, the reflection of sun – sun off steel.

All of a sudden, he wasn’t on the ramparts of the Unclean Realm but standing beside Jiang Cheng on a rough-hewn fortress barely worthy of the name, watching the horizon grimly as the damned Wen scout’s flare did its work and the amassed forces of Wen Chao’s troops began to move inexorably in their direction. They would come, he had known, and they would kill them all if they could; it would take everything they had to stop them, and to survive long enough just to retreat once again.

For some of them to survive.

“Invasion,” he heard someone say, their voice hoarse, and only a moment later realized it was himself who had spoken. “Invasion…it’s an army!”

“It’s the Jin sect,” Jiang Cheng said, staring blankly as if he couldn’t believe what his eyes were telling him. For once, Lan Wangji understood him completely; he was similarly shocked. “They’re wearing gold, you can see it from here…the Jin sect has sent their armies here? How could they even think to dare? Chifeng-zun will annihilate them!”

Lan Wangji’s throat worked, and for a moment he felt drowned in the quiet once more, his voice not wanting to cooperate with him, his entire being willing or even wanting to return to the solace of seclusion if it would only mean that he wouldn’t have to hear the horrible din of war once more. But he was not a coward, and would do what he must – even speak of things that felt impossible to be spoken.

“That complicated situation I mentioned,” he said, and Jiang Cheng turned to look at him. “My brother has either conspired with or was duped into assisting Lianfang-zun in an attempt on Chifeng-zun’s life through destabilizing his qi and inducing a qi deviation.”

Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped. “They did what?!”

“Chifeng-zuns remains alive, but is confined to his bed,” Lan Wangji continued, ignoring the interjection. “Nie Huaisang was the one who ordered the shield raised, saying that there might be an attack – I thought he was overreacting, but apparently not.”

“If Jin Guangshan can take over the Unclean Realm while Nie Mingjue is incapacitated, he can say that the incapacitation is worse than it really is,” Jiang Cheng said, abruptly getting it. Lan Wangji had forgotten how much he enjoyed working alongside those from Yunmeng Jiang, Wei Wuxian most of all but also in his absence Jiang Cheng, who was smart and did not require too many words to understand. “Everyone knows Nie Huaisang’s a good-for-nothing – it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for the Jin sect to claim that they came here at the invitation of the Nie sect to ‘rescue’ them, and remained in order to manage the sect on their behalf. Better that than have Chifeng-zun recover and come after you in vengeance!”

Lan Wangji nodded.

“But surely they didn’t think they’d be able to get away with it? Even if they could manage it for a while, as soon as the confusion cleared up, all the other sects would throw a fit…”

“Jin Ling,” Lan Wangji said, and Jiang Cheng blanched, seeming to realize the problem at once. His beloved nephew legally belonged to the Jin sect; if he dared to protest their actions, wouldn’t they be sure to take him away? As for the Lan sect, Lan Xichen would have been implicated through his actions – they could hold his participation over his head, forcing him to pick between supporting them and losing face for the whole sect, which would in turn weaken it. And that was assuming that Jin Guangyao didn’t somehow manage to talk Lan Xichen into thinking it was all for the best regardless…

There were only four Great Sects left, now. If the Lan and Jiang did nothing, who would be left to stand up for the Nie?

“I have to get inside. Nie Huaisang will need my support,” Lan Wangji said, but instead looked down at the children beside him.

“Go,” Lan Sizhui said, releasing his hand and stepping back away from him. “I’ll take Jingyi and hide in the room we’re staying in. You won’t need to worry about us – go, do what you need to!”

Jiang Cheng flinched as if he’d been struck.

Lan Wangji glanced at him. “The Jin sect army,” he said. “However unlikely, there’s still a chance that we are misinterpreting their motives.”

“I’ll go find out what I can,” Jiang Cheng agreed at once. “How many there are, what can be done…I’ll find out and report back.”

Lan Wangji tossed him the guest token he’d been given. “Be cautious,” he said. He still hadn’t forgiven Jiang Cheng for what he’d done in the Burial Mounds, but he was willing to wait until a better time to talk it over with him – now was not the time to try to gain understanding.

Jiang Cheng nodded and left at once, and Lan Wangji saw the children off, then hurried to do the same.

By the time he made it to the main hall, his brother and Jin Guangyao were already there, and Nie Huaisang was confronting them with nothing more than a fan gripped in white-knuckled hands and a glare.

“– dare you talk as if he’s gone mad, as if he can’t be trusted?” Nie Huaisang was shouting. “You should know how seriously we take such words here!”

“It is because of that that we are worried,” Lan Xichen said, and now it was Lan Wangji’s turn to flinch. His brother’s voice sounded just the way it always did, comforting in its familiarity: he sounded calm and patient, thoughtful and wise, sure of himself. He sounded as if he knew better than anyone else what was right and what was wrong. “Huaisang, you don’t know how much your brother has been worried about suffering the way your father did. He knows that qi deviations can be subtle as well as harsh – he understands that his reason might be the first to go –”

“And so you took it upon yourself to decide that for him?” Nie Huaisang sneered. “You keep saying that he understands, that he would understand, all that. But that’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“Huaisang, please,” Jin Guangyao said, his voice just as gentle as always. “You know we only want what’s best for your brother.”

“Do you?” Nie Huaisang said, but he was still looking at Lan Xichen. “You knew he hated the quiet room, er-ge. You knew that he’d never wanted anything to do with it – it’s not like that was anything new! That was something he’d said repeatedly, year after year, month after month, for his entire life. You knew how he felt about it, and you decided to ignore what he wanted in favor of what you wanted. How is that wanting what’s best for him?”

“I was only concerned for his health,” Lan Xichen said, sounding injured by the accusation. “I had nothing but good intentions…”

“Your intentions are immaterial compared to your actions,” Lan Wangji said, and they turned to look at him, both of them surprised – maybe they really hadn’t noticed he’d left the Cloud Recesses.

Well, he thought bitterly: they’d notice now.

He took a step into the room, then another.

“Your actions are this,” he said, ignoring the way his brother stared at his forehead, unadorned by the ribbon that had been there ever since he’d been a small child, receiving it for the first time from his uncle as a precious gift. “You did not trust or respect your elder brother’s word. You disregarded his decision, treating him like a child who can’t be trusted to make up his own mind – you put your own desires ahead of his, and in doing so, betrayed him. Did you really think he’d thank you for it?”

Did you think I’d thank you one day for authorizing our sect’s attack on the Burial Mounds without ever having to explain yourself? Even our uncle respected me enough to tell me at once what he had done and let me decide how I felt about it, accepting the consequences of his actions!

“Wangji,” Lan Xichen murmured. “You’re still healing, you shouldn’t be wandering around…where is your self-restraint?”

Where is your forehead ribbon, he meant, and Lan Wangji shook his head.

“Wangji, you don’t understand,” Jin Guangyao said, and Lan Wangji stiffened at the unasked-for intimacy of the address. “Whatever da-ge said to you, whatever he did, you cannot allow others to guide you by filling your heart with incomplete echoes of what you have lost. You will never forgive yourself.”

Lan Wangji was so furious that he could not speak. Was Jin Guangyao implying that Nie Mingjue had, what, seduced him? That Lan Wangji held his love for Wei Wuxian so cheap that he would have his head turned by the first person willing to make up to him in such a fashion?

“I should hope you know my da-ge better than that, er-ge,” Nie Huaisang said coldly, still speaking only to Lan Xichen. “Or is this something else where you will believe the words of that lying dog over everyone else and the evidence of your own reason to boot?”

“Huaisang, that is unwontedly cruel, and uncalled for,” Lan Xichen said, tearing his eyes away from Lan Wangji. “Whatever Wangji has decided, I do not blame Mingjue-xiong for it.”

Implying, Lan Wangji supposed, that it was Lan Wangji that was to blame for it.

“Put the blame where it belongs,” he said stiffly, staring at his brother as if looking at a stranger. “Was I to leave Chifeng-zun where I found him, half-dead and dying in our jingshi where you left him at Lianfang-zun’s incitement?”

“You think I don’t recognize that I’ve done wrong?” Lan Xichen demanded. “I will speak to Mingjue-xiong and apologize – I will explain my reasoning and let him decide how I can make it up to him. But please, there is no call for you to be cruel to A-Yao. Do not blame him for my mistakes.”

“What about for his lies?” Lan Wangji asked. He took a breath, sharp and unhappy, and suddenly it was desperately, urgently necessary to know the truth. “Brother, tell me you didn’t know. Tell me you weren’t in on it – that you didn’t try to kill Mingjue-xiong in order to cover up your affair.”

“What, kill, you think I would try to…Wangji! Affair?” Lan Xichen exclaimed, and he seemed genuinely shocked. “No, Wangji, you’ve misunderstood entirely! It’s not like that at all. Mingjue-xiong and A-Yao, they were once lovers –”

“No, we weren’t,” Nie Mingjue said.

They all turned at once. He was standing at the door, all but clinging to the doorframe to keep himself standing; he was swathed in bandages and still stuck with needles. None of them had heard him or seen him approach – he must have heard them shouting and dragged himself over.

He sounded tired. He sounded quiet.

He looked at Lan Xichen.

“I was never Meng Yao’s lover,” he said. “Not now, not before, not ever. And Xichen…you knew that, didn’t you?”

[incarnateirony]

Love that Misha confirmed Jensen had a deancas song on volume 2 and we ALL know which one that is. Funny it caused such a fustercluck with people harassing other people until they got banned in my server over it but hey. Man. VINDICATION

For those that don't know, there was an exodus in my server over the most... IDK. Hysterical wank about this. Might as well finally tell it. It started with people trying to clown over Watching Over Me, and then a random group of "it kids" following them around to shit on them.

The clowning fun tried to move four channels, and was pursued by classic lines like "this is disrespectful to jensen", "you can't KNOW know", "it's a SONG", etc etc, half-arguments that are themselves against the rules coded into the server.

The people doing it knew better but when I told them to stop being dicks and what rules they were breaking, they were an "it crowd" that literally argued they had the right to break the rules. Which, uh, no, you don't. Also "What did you expect of course we're a clique" was said.

Considering I had considered most of them friends, while anyone else would have been kicked immediately, I gave them 3 days to stop, but they spent those three days tagging me while I was playing pokemon or working to kick up fights about it again. So I put out an announcement.

Their response to this announcement was to run into a different discord and, quite literally, plot a server coup, and invited all my other admins to emotionally extort over the course of days. At first, my admins thought, hey, people deserve to vent, no big deal.

Then I got an emergency message from another admin "SHUT DOWN ADMIN, NOW, DONT ASK JUST DO" so I flicked it off and find out they're losing their SHIT because they had convinced an admin to go rogue and give them powers to go in and delete whatever the FUCK they want.

Channels, the server, whatever. A few were acting unstable enough I have reason to believe the server itself could have been nuked. They also called me a "cartoon villain" for saying "Nobody can give you the power to do this now. Nobody." Like the whole plan of theirs isn't literally cartoon villain.

Then, yet again, I gave them 3 days to like, change their minds, explain themselves, and a few did turn around and realize they had been MAJORLY emotionally manipulated.

Again, normal people would have been banned in an instant over that, but these were ex-friends basically being given another chance, but while in their spiral, insisted I was the one spiraling, while giving them a chance to stop... acting wild? A week now?

Many threw a fit and left. A few lurked, and I should have kicked but again didn't, only to blow up later. They spent weeks footstomping that admins MUST delete any channels they ever contributed to, i m m e d i a t e l y. Neverminding who all else contributed what there.

Like I want you to imagine this happening on a forum. A dudebro gets banned for like trying to hack the forum then throws a hissyfit demanding every thread he ever commented on be deleted. Yeah, that's basically what they sounded like.

Their initial excuse was that somewhere in the vat of a year old server there may be private info that someone would doxx them over, like anyone's gonna dig back through 192123971283 messages to find something they may or may not have said of their own accord.

Then it turned into "you'll steal my meta", like my entire server wasn't started by me teaching people *my* meta that they ended up basing theirs off of. Basically, petty excuse after petty excuse to try to have some righteous cause.

After that, these folks went around into people's dm's pissing and moaning and one siding the story. I didn't even say shit because my drama isn't everyone's business but they just as manipulatively made me lose a few friends that had no place in the drama/server.

Anyway, they're still out there, like what half a year later now, causing bullshit about this, while you guys just now are getting the tea on it, because damn if it isn't topical, they went on a whole ass authoritarian spinout over... people clowning and being right. Like some dumber, low-stakes version of Jan 6 that was even less organized somehow.

Yes, some of these are popular names in fandom, not truly BNFs but people that are decently known. Honestly many of them are people I lifted out of unknown obscurity to begin with.

So anyway that's the story of the POLOL exodus over a bunch of people trying to clown patrol people that, apparently, were literally right anyway, and how that turned into a failed server coup over being told to stop being dicks.

There's even wilder chapters of this I skipped over, like when I DID delete rooms they were high end contributors to and make a new empty copy like they demanded, only for, when I did it, them to scream I was "mad with power deleting rooms" in my own server...that they asked for.

So rolling back to core, damn if it wasn't funny to hear that out of Misha. Like yes Vol 2 does in fact have a deancas song GEE I WONDER WHICH ONE IT IS, COULDN'T BE THE ONE WITH ALL THE MAJOR KEYWORDS

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind. 

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer. 

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.  

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.” 

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.  

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear. 

No. 

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart. 

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying. 

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?” 

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”  

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason. 

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,” Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him. 

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine. 

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

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

Yeesh. That one was a lot. 

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

[pupandangelscoffee]

SWEET LIKE SUGAR, DANGEROUS LIKE SNAKES

Eddie Diaz x Evan Buckley x Reader

Genre: Action, Fluff, Angst

Warnings: alcohol, mentions of drugs, mentions of being shot, mentions of being attacked, jumping out of window (no death), mentions of deaths in the past, inappropriate language

Synopsis: When Buck and Eddie agreed to do an undercover job for Athena, they didnt expect to meet someone like you

Wordcount: 2387

Taglist: @enterprise-medical

When Athena had come to Bobby with the request to allow two of his firefighters go undercover to a rather inclusive underground dance club, he had been against the idea. For one, he didn’t want to put Eddie or Buck in danger, but most importantly, he knew how reckless those two could be and he didn’t want them to risk being caught up in anything more dangerous than their everyday work. But after some persuading from both his wife and the two men in question, he had given in.

That is exactly why they are now standing in the door of your dance studio, eyes following your every move as you lead the group choreo, believing that you had yet to take notice of them and Athena. However, when you send them a smile through the mirror, Buck feels his breath get stuck in his throat. Eddie chuckles between his friend, feeling how the other stopped breathing for a moment while Athena shoots the young male a quick glare. “Remember, Buck, this mission is extremely important. Do not compromise it by sticking your slong where it does not belong,” she hisses as you finish up the dance and make your way over to them. “So, these two are the ones I am supposed to take with me?” You ask with a rather hushed voice, looking them over before raising a brow at Athena. “Listen, Athena, I respect you but with those clothes, they will stick out like a pink elephant in a black room.” You state blankly, earning an offended scoff from the two men and a small chuckle from Athena. Before any of the three could even reply, another girl walks up behind you and wraps her arm around your waist. “Hey babe, who are these two flamingos?” She asked, studying the men from head to toe before chuckling at their appearance. “Did you pick them up at the circus?” She added, making you giggle and shake your head before retorting “nah, I found them outside the clown school. Apparently, they got kicked out for looking too much like a giraffe that drank too much paint.” While the two men look incredibly offended at your comments, Athena tried to bite back her laughter. “Do we have to work with them? They are mean.” Buck whines softly, looking at Athena like a puppy that was just kicked.

Shaking your head a bit, you turn to look at your friend. “Okay, Marie, you will help these two gentlemen find some new clothes, okay? Afterwards Marcel and I will see how well they can dance and help them learn some moves, so they won’t stick out like a wedding dress at a funeral at the party tonight.” You instruct her, earning a small nod before she rushes off, dragging the two dumbfounded men along. “You will take good care of them, right? Otherwise I may lose my husband, they are like sons to him.” Athena explains causing you to nod with a soft smile playing on your lips. “Don’t worry, Athena. I will watch over them like my life depends on them. I just hope that Travis won’t figure out what we are trying to do. I would prefer not getting shot again.” You state before sending her off with a wave.

An hour later, Marie returns with Eddie and Buck, both looking more like they would belong to your scene than being model citizens. At this point, you had discarded your shirt and Buck had to do everything in his willpower not to stare at your chest. “We are back, and they finally don’t look like tropical birds in a crowd of crows.” Marie informs you, smiling at you through the mirror before grabbing her bag and waving goodbye to you, rushing out of the practice room. Turning to the men, you introduce them to Marcel before instructing them to show you some of their dance moves. To your surprise, Eddie was rather good at an assortment of dance styles, whether it was just basic salsa or some sort of break dancing, he was doing well enough that you didn’t have to fear for him to stick out unnecessarily. Buck, however, well he was a completely different story. You wouldn’t say he couldn’t dance, he could, but The Sprinkler and The Carlton would not be received well in any club, especially not one as exclusive as the one you were planning to take them tonight. While you managed not to burst out laughing, Marcel was on the ground, crying from the laughter that was ripping through his body. “Please, please do not do that when we are out tonight.” You beg gently, trying to not let the laughter get out that you were trying to keep down, eyes flicking over to Eddie, who is very amused by his friend’s interesting dance style.

You end up taking some mercy on the poor man, stepping closer to him, and placing his hands on your waist. “Just follow my lead, darling.” You say softly right as the music starts before starting to lead him, giving him a gentle smile as he stumbles a few times. After a few hours of showing him random dance moves that would be acceptable in the club, you hum in succeed. “Great, imma go shower and then we can head out.” You state before grabbing your bag before heading to the shower.

The smell of sweat and alcohol are the first things that hit Eddie and Buck when they finally get to enter the club. You had introduced Eddie as your boyfriend and Buck as your friend from a few states over to get them access to the club and Buck would be lying if he said he didn’t feel his heart sting when you introduced Eddie as your boyfriend instead of him. Weaseling your way through all the bodies, you lead the two boys over to the table where your friends are sitting and to sell the illusion of dating Eddie, you sit down on his lap. Buck quickly averts his eyes as he feels jealousy raise in him, though it dies down as soon as the waitress brings over a tray of shots. Quickly, all of you grab one and down it before your friends stand up as your group’s name gets called out by another group of people. Frowning a bit, you get up as well, whispering a threatening “stay here or I will make sure neither of you have sex ever again” to the two men before following your group to the middle of the dance floor. Of course, the one night you bring in firefighters to a club that has seen more deaths than necessary, is the night your group gets challenged to a dance battle. You figure that they must be new around the club, because your group had a reputation build up about how you didn’t come to play. “Basic rules, whoever gets the loudest cheers gets to stay, the losers leave.” You state, smiling at what you assume the leader to be as you reach your hand out for a handshake. Your opponent nods and takes your hand, shaking it before both of you resume to your positions in your groups.

Meanwhile, Buck and Eddie both stood up, trying to see exactly what was happening. Buck is the first of the duo to end up climbing onto the table to get a better view, becoming completely entranced as he watches your group – especially you – start to dance. Holding his breath, he watches as the crowd goes wild for your group after the battle is over, only releasing the breath once you are back safely at your table and on Eddie’s lap. Eddie quickly wraps his arm around your waist, smiling and pressing a gentle kiss to your sweaty shoulder, clearly enjoying the fact that he got to play your boyfriend for the night.

Both of the men nearly forgot why they were with you and your group of friends in the first place, having a wonderful time and probably a bit more alcohol as they initially planned, though making sure that they were sober in case anything happened. And sure enough, after dancing, drinking, and talking for nearly two hours, three rather big men came up to you three. “Travis wishes to see you.” One of them states, motioning for you three to follow them, which you do. Once you enter the room where Travis is waiting, the bodyguards leave as Travis waves them off. “I see you brought some new friends, Y/N and you didn’t even bother introducing them to me. That is rather rude, ya know?” Travis states as he pulls out a clear bag of some white pills. “Why don’t we show them what real fun is?” he adds, mistaking your smirk for an agreement though quickly frowning as you take a picture of him holding out the pills. “You see, Travis, I don’t think the police would be very happy if I allowed their men to take some of your shit.” You state with a hum as you walk over to him and pat his cheek while Eddie takes out the handcuffs that he had hidden in his pocket. However, before he could get close enough to arrest Travis, the man dropped the bag and ran off. Sighing a bit, you take your heels off before chasing after him, knowing the club like the back of your hand.

A small scream, courtesy of Buck, could be heard when you jump out of the second story window, as he fears. Though when Eddie starts laughing while looking out of the window, he slowly walks closer and the scene in front of him was rather amusing. Not only were you absolutely fine, but you had also managed to catch a very bewildered looking Travis, who did not understand how you were able to cut him off and pin him against the metal fence, since he had been so far ahead. “Oh, this is Julie,” you whisper before slamming his head against the fence again before looking up at the boys. “Are you gonna come arrest him or do you want to continue playing pretty creepy dolls?” You yell up to them, causing the two to spring into action.

Soon enough, Athena shows up and takes Travis off your hands, not even questioning why he has a cut on his face. “He deserved it.” You state with a shrug before turning to Eddie and Buck to thank them and wish them a goodnight. “So, you think we are pretty, huh?” Buck teases before you can even say a word, causing you to giggle. “I said pretty creepy if I remember correctly, but whatever helps you sleep at night, Evan.” You reply before giving him and Eddie each a soft hug and a kiss on the cheek before grabbing your heels and walking off into the night.

It has been a few weeks since the boys last saw you and even if they didn’t want to admit it, they actually missed you. So much actually, that they drove past the place that you took them to, only to find it completely abandoned. Through a stranger, they found out that after Travis was arrested, the whole place fell apart and people just stopped showing up.

So, the surprise was real, when they hear your voice after coming back from a call. Racing up the stairs, they find you and Chris dancing with one another. “Well, what is going on here?” Eddie asks, immediately regretting that his voice came out a little more on the hostile side, but it was his father instinct kicking in as soon as he saw Chris standing without his crutches and only holding onto you. “Well hello to you too, Edmundo.” You state, quickly handing Chris his crutches before grinning and leaning down to his eyelevel. “You wanna show your dad what you learned?” You ask softly, getting an eager nod in return. So you step back and turn on the song that Chris had requested, watching Chris take the “stage” and showing off the dance moves that you had managed to teach him while the 118 was at the call. Meanwhile, the whole team joined you, all of them watching the young boy enjoy himself. “You have a very cute and sweet son.” You whisper to Eddie before walking over to the kitchen to grab two bottles of water, one for you and one for the young boy. “Dad, what do you think of my moves?” Chris asks innocently as he sips from the water bottle that you hand to him opened already, allowing you to pick him up and set him on the couch besides his father. “They were really good.” Eddie smiles, looking at you in amazement before ruffling Chris’s hair. “What are you even doing here?” Buck asks you, the smile on your face faltering. “Athena said it would be the safest if I change back to being a paramedic instead of a dance instructor, especially since I was attacked twice last week.” You add the last part in a whisper, not wanting the kid to hear.

Though you couldn’t help but giggle at the shocked faces of everyone except Bobby, who had been informed by Athena that you would be joining his team, because somehow none of them expected you to be a paramedic. “I finished the training 3 years ago, right after High School. However, I preferred dancing and it paid very well, so I never actually went to the firehouse.” You explain quickly before Bobby added “they will be joining us starting next week”. Huge smiles break out on Buck’s and Eddie’s face as they realize that this means they get to spend more time with you, almost like their wishful thinking has actually worked. A definite bonus was that Chris also seemed to really like you, so perhaps they could make things work.

But with your past? Would it come haunt them as well? Would it bring any of them into danger? Would it put Chris in the line of danger? Could they actually win your heart though? Only the future can tell, but the two men hope that their future is with you by their side.

[ateezmakemeweep]

you’re the one that i want (part 17)

word count: 6k

angst

(part 16) (series masterlist)

tag list: @chogiout ; @psshwa ; @yeocult ; @seongghwaa ; @cherryeonii ; @chaoticbanqtan ; @8teenee ; @nczenniez ; @atinyarmyx1 ; @mingtopiaa ; @chubsluda ; @joongiebug ; @mochibabycakes ; @jisungity ; @skz-on-my-mind ; @nlost21 ; @myonlyaurora ; @closer-stars ; @kuaenam3g ; @byungaji ; @floweryjh ; @joeycheungg ; @lostscenarios ; @atinyxtopia ; @sanisms ; @kpopnightingale ; @simpforhyunjin ; @89staytinyzen21​ ; @lokicaramel ; @ttalgimin ; @sakura-uji ; @songsoomin ; @toffee-hwa ; @deobitiful ; @hyunjeansuniverse ; @clown-teez​ ; @i-know-you-know-lee-know ; @tiny-whatsername ; @fairieofeternity ; @yixing-jaehyun ; @sleepyseonghwa ; @revehosh ; 

time went on but the pain never went away. it dulled, for sure, with san incessantly telling you that you deserved better and the piles of work that were being assigned to you.

but you were also doing everything in your absolute power to ignore seonghwa. 

you never lingered before or after homeroom and made sure to never even look in his direction. you drowned out the sound of his voice in class or entire presence when you passed him the hallway. you and san even started to break the school rules and went out for lunch so neither of you had to be reminded of that table.

the one time seonghwa dared come to the cafe, san forced you into the back room and gave his ex friend a piece of his mind. you thought for sure you were gonna have to run out and separate the boys but seonghwa just looked completely...empty and defeated. 

it seemed as if he took san’s words to heart, the blonde speaking them so lowly and harshly you still don’t exactly know what he said to this day. you just know that when you and seonghwa’s eyes met through the small glass window, he looked as sad and broken as you felt inside - but for very different reasons. 

he was upset with himself while you were upset with the both of you. at him for acting the way he did and denying you once again but also at yourself for letting it go on for so long. you should’ve been stronger and made it known he was hurting you from day one, not just avoid him for the sake of saving yourself more pain and suffering.

you’ve switched between feeling sad, angry and vengeful so much during these weeks that you don’t even know how you feel anymore; you just know you’re hurting and know it’s because of him.

“okay but you can’t not go because of him,” san whines. you were both sitting at the cafe during your wednesday night shift, the shitty, rainy weather outside keeping you free of any customers. 

“san,” you whine back, looking at your friend in annoyance; he’d been harassing you for days to go to his friend’s party on friday, a group of boys from another school he’s been friends with since 5th grade.

“look, i was honest and told you he’d probably be there to warn you,” he tells you honestly, taking a sip of his hot chocolate. “but if you’re gonna make me go through it by myself, that’ll be really mean.” 

you roll your eyes at the pout on his lips, feeling yourself frown when he adds, “because you know, i’m avoiding one of them too.”

you both know it’s a low blow and san has to resist the urge to smirk knowing he did just play a little dirty. but it doesn’t lessen his actual anxiety over it, knowing he’s gonna be around alcohol in a party atmosphere where stupid decisions are almost always made.

“that’s not fair,” you say with a pout, kicking against the counter with a groan. 

“c’monnn, love, i’m gonna need you there.” 

you let out a sigh, looking at the boy with a pained expression; it would be the perfect time for you to get out and party though, you think, given the fact that your parents told you just this morning they’d be going away for the weekend. 

things at home had been surprisingly...civil, only a few fights and slaps here and there that do little to break your spirit. because it’s already pretty crumbled, eating quickly with them before rushing into your room to do homework.

you never thought you’d say it but schoolwork and projects and essays were actually saving you these days, distracting your mind from just how badly your heart was hurting. 

and what better way to further distract yourself than by getting drunk for the first time? 

“for the first time?” san yelps when you tell him you’ve never drank before. 

“kind of, yeah,” you tell him with an amused smile, the utter shock on his face all too endearing. “i...got tipsy over the summer,” you say quickly, grazing over the memory before you tell san you’d only had one drink. 

“oh, that won’t do,” san says with a shake of the head. 

you watch with a raised eyebrow and a cup of tea to your lips as the blonde prances over to the cabinets, looking inside before smirking at the extra box of jello he knew was laying around back here. 

“we’ll start you off with jello shots and then move you up to the real stuff. get ready for friday, biiiitch.” 

you let out a snort and warm tea spews from your mouth, dripping down to your chin and onto the floor as you let out a choking fit of laughter. san yells that he just mopped the floor and insists that you’re doing it this time, your eyes only rolling at him.

“i’m about to choke and die and you’re worried about the floor.”

“you can’t choke and die, we have to go to this party first.”

the jello shots had gone down easily, your personal favorites being the strawberry and raspberry. but now, the straight vodka sitting in one of san’s many shot glasses is proving to be a challenge. 

“i think i’m drunk so i don’t need to do-”

“cheers!” san yelps, taking your glass from the table and forcing it into your hand. you let out a sigh as you watch the boy down his 4th one with ease, looking at him with concerned laced in your eyes. 

“san, if you’re gonna puke tonight, i’m gonna be really-”

“i’m not gonna puke,” he whines, “we ate so much before this and i’ll drink water. but you have to start little lady. we only have an hour!” 

“okay i will but i’m just warning you that i’m gonna hate every moment of this and-”

he rolls his eyes before pushing the shot glass toward you, snorting when you take down the vodka with a sneer and gag. but by the third, the burn gets almost manageable and you and san mentally prepare one another for what’s about to come. 

you tell him to not take wooyoung’s shit, that if the boy even dares to signal for him to go outside so they could be alone, he points his middle finger at him and goes off to dance and have fun. 

he tells you that if seonghwa tries to corner you and suck another hickie onto your neck, (the blonde had been so irritated at that, the possessiveness and boldness in the action making his blood boil) you knee him between the legs and kiss the closest person next to you. even if it’s him.

you laugh at that very unlikely circumstance as you stumble out of his house and into the uber, both of you determined not to let those two handsome but horribly cruel boys get to you. 

you try to keep the slurring of your words quiet so the driver isn’t alarmed by the drunk underaged kids in his car, whispering back and forth about what songs you’re gonna sneak onto the aux.

you thank the man as he pulls up to the house, big and beautiful with a wrap around porch and a few kids littered outside. and then even in a drunken daze, you feel your stomach knot with nervousness. the unfamiliar crowd, the loud booming music coming from the house, the thought of seeing seonghwa in this state, now all too daunting. 

but san notices your discomfort immediately and grabs your hand, saying hi to a few people in passing as he leads you into the house. he tells you to stay close and to not let go of him, your eyes widening at the amount of people in this house; what kind of high school party is like this?

“oi felix!” 

a boy with blonde wavy hair turns around and smiles at san, walking over and fist bumping him; you bit your lip to hide your smile, secretly wondering who’s hands were smaller (it’s me, the author, i am wondering). felix notices you standing beside san, your intertwined hands catching his eye before his face lights up. 

“who is this? is she your-”

“friend,” san clarifies, pulling you into him affectionately. “but she is very much single if anyone is interested.”

“san,” you whine as you disconnect your hands and hit his arm, felix laughing quietly before he holds out his. you take his hand with a small smile, mumbling your name before three boys barrel right into him. 

“san!” they all scream in unison, excited cheers as they run toward the boy and grab him in a hug. you giggle as you wait off to the side in fear of getting trampled, felix looking at you apologetically. 

“sorry,” he says, his voice so deep and full it makes your eyes widen. and maybe it’s because you have alcohol coursing through you that you show your surprise, looking around like you’re scared someone’s gonna watch you before leaning in. 

“your voice...is very deep.” 

a loud chuckle leaves his mouth as he nods his head, talking more and leaving you in amazement. 

you don’t even hear san and the other boys conversing behind you, you and felix talking about the blonde-haired boy. you tell him that you work at his parents cafe and also see him in school every day, giggling sweetly when felix’s face turns into a grimace as he commends your ability to deal with the loud, whiney boy five days a week.

the very same boy who, little to your knowledge, is trying to set you up. but it’s not his fault, he rationalizes in his head, the idea just fell into his lap really.

“hey, who’d you come with?” hyunjin asks san, the two blondes turning when they hear your giggle pierce the air. 

the taller boy can’t help but smile softly at the sound, thinking it’s the cutest thing he’s heard since he got here; he wasn’t even gonna come tonight, always put off by the gross group of people and loud, terrible music.

“that’s y/n, my new friend,” san says, smiling when he sees hyunjin’s intrigued gaze. 

he’s known the boy for years, one of his first friends from middle school who proved time and time again how sweet he was. everyone had always been intimidated by his good looks and tall figure but he was just as a soft-spoken as he was kind; he’d be the perfect distraction for you tonight. 

it’s why he drags hyunjin over to you, planting the boy in front of you and your head snaps away from felix. “i was just telling him how you always-” a pair of dark, unfamiliar eyes looking at you cause the words to stop, your breath catching in your throat at the man in your presence. 

his blonde hair hangs in his face, a black headband over his forehead just a few inches above the prettiest pair of light brown eyes. he’s taller than san and felix and it only adds on to how much your sad little heart flutters, your usual sober nervousness replaced with a drunken fascination. 

“oh. hi.”

and then when his lips quirk up into a smile, your heart nearly threatens to pound out of your chest. 

“hey. i’m hyunjin.”

you sat with the boy for most of the night, your legs grazing as you stayed on the couch and gave him playful slaps to the arm when you drunkenly giggled into him. you quickly discovered he was just as funny as he was kind and handsome and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think you had a little bit of a crush on him.

that the happy, fluttering feeling in your chest was something you hadn’t felt in a while, your shy smiles back and forth only making you more giggly. or it could also be the sips you took from san’s spiked seltzer that might have something to do with it. 

because one second you and hyunjin were debating whether goldendoodles or chihuahuas made better pets and then the next, you were both charging over to san for the final decision. but he yelped excitedly, having not seen you both all night because you were so lost in each other, and threw his arms around you. 

“don’t look now, love, but asshole one and two just got here.”

you pull back and look at san with wide eyes, the blonde only nodding his head with a calming look in his eye. he had thought you guys had gotten lucky and the four boys weren’t gonna show up but leave it them to waltz in a few minutes before midnight, their eyes searching the crowd before a brown pair of narrowed eyes caught his attention.

san avoided the boy’s gaze to look at seonghwa, watching his eyes roam over the crowd before landing on you. his handsome face immediately drops, his jaw tightening and eyes narrowing as he watched you and hyunjin laugh together. 

the tall blonde’s hand was resting on your hip, this thumb running over the exposed skin between your jeans and shirt as you two laugh with hyunjin’s friends.

to seonghwa, it looked as if he was trying to make a move on you. that he was slowly enticing you until his hand traveled lower and lower and just the thought of it causes anger to rip through him. like an anger he’s never felt before.

because he would do that to comfort you. 

to calm your nerves and ground you if you were feeling upset and anxious, like you typically did around crowds or unfamiliar groups of people. but you looked awfully cozy next to the boy in the loud, chaotic environment, smiling up at the boy so prettily it makes him growl lowly in his chest.

“what the fuck was that?” mingi asked the boy, his eyes following seonghwa’s dark gaze before his face morphed into one of surprise. 

“ohhh shit.”

“shit,” you said under your breath, hyunjin hearing the frustration in your voice and looking down at you curiously. 

but you and san don’t look away from one another, trying so hard to remember what you said earlier. that you’re gonna ignore them and pretend they’re not even here, that you both deserve better and should move on to bigger and better things.

that if, given the opportunity, maybe it wouldn’t be a terrible idea to distract yourself with other people. and what better way than in the arms of a long haired blonde boy with the prettiest face you’ve ever seen?

“what’s wrong?” you hear his voice mumble in your ear, turning around and sucking in a breath when you realize you’re a lot closer than you thought. his eyes look over you with a soft concern, watching your drunken hazy eyes look back at him.

“no-nothing, someone’s just here who i...don’t wanna see,” you settle on saying, not needing hyunjin to know all of your baggage and nonsense drama. 

he looks at the new group of boys who just entered, recognizing them immediately and waving; he’s mostly friendly with yeosang but has seen the other three before, the dirty blonde boy eyeing him with such distaste he can only assume that’s who you’re having a problem with. 

but if you don’t wanna see him, then he’s gonna make sure you don’t. 

so he smiles down at you, his finger tapping you on the nose playfully and smiling when you giggle quietly. he’s happy to see a smile back on your face, the lingering anxiousness in your eyes making his stomach sink. 

“then i can promise he won’t be anywhere near you.”

the words send warmth through your body, your heart fluttering and cheeks turning pink as you bite your lip to hide your smile, hyunjin’s hand reaching down to interlace your fingers. you don’t miss the way the blonde’s face warms a little bit too in the dark room, turning your body and resting your head on his shoulder lazily as you talk with san and the rest of the boys.

you miss the way yeosang and mingi hold seonghwa back from charging over there, the shorter boy looking at his friend in confusion. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snaps, pulling the boy back by his shirt. “we just got here. you’re not about to start shit.”

“i’m not gonna start anything, i just have to-”

“stop,” wooyoung says firmly, knowing all too well the feeling seonghwa is experiencing right now; but he also knows nothing will come of acting on it. of charging over there and tearing you away from the blonde, of growling out that you’re his and shouldn’t be with other people. 

the dirty blonde snaps his head to wooyoung and resists the urge to punch him in the mouth, letting out an annoyed huff before shrugging himself away from yeosang and walking toward the kitchen to grab a drink. a drink that he holds on to for the next thirty minutes of the party, keeping the same cold bottle in his hand so people don’t ask why he’s not drinking.

he hates this shit. 

drinking and partying and mingling, passing a poorly rolled joint around like all of this is gonna make him wanna be here when really, it’s the last thing he wants. he can’t believe he’s been sitting here as long as he has, leg bouncing as he watches you smile up and chat with hyunjin as a blush spreads on your cheeks. 

there’s a hot burning feeling of anger and rage and possessiveness growing in his chest, something you brought out in him within the first few weeks of meeting. and he knows he deserves to feel this way, that he hurt you and made you feel bad and basically pushed you into another man’s arms. 

but that doesn’t mean he’s not mad. and that doesn’t mean he won’t stop it because how could he watch that? how could he sit here and watch you with someone else when he wants you to be with h-

“hyunjin,” you giggle drunkenly, feeling his breath tickle the skin of your neck. 

you both had been watching san and his friends banter back and forth, the boys loud and talkative and crazy as they relive their middle school memories. about the pranks they pulled on teachers and how much trouble they always got into. 

about how san and changbin had gone from absolutely hating each other to becoming the closest in the group; san thought changbin was mean and scary and changbin thought san was annoying and soft - and perhaps you could see what both of them were saying. 

because changbin did have a darker look in his eye, easily getting annoyed and shoving his friends around but also blocking their falls when they were about to smack into the wall. it’s nice to see san hanging out with a group of rowdy boys since these past months, he’s only been with you - a emotional, baggage-filled teenage girl. 

“what?” he whines lowly, squeezing at your hips again and causing your heart to stutter in your chest. 

it feels nice to have someone touch you again, touch you in a way that warms your body and makes you feel liked and desired. you’d gotten so used to it with....him and it’s almost like for the time being, your fragile heart is temporarily healing. 

you know the feeling is different and you know you don’t like it as much but at least hyunjin is sweet.

because you also you know tomorrow, or maybe even in a few hours, you’ll go back to normal. sad that you have to ignore the boy you love and mad that he’s making you do it in the first place. confused and irritated at just how much your head was in the clouds this summer.

but for tonight, you don’t care about any of that. you only care about that way this other boy is making you feel, someone who was a stranger when the night started but made you so comfortable so fast. made you happy and giggly and acted as the perfect distraction from the eyes that have been piercing into you all night. 

you made sure not to to look anywhere but the corner you and the boys were in, turning in hyunjin’s hold and reaching up to play with his long blonde hair.

“you...shouldn’t ever cut this,” you hiccup, a cute smile crossing the boy’s face at the sound of it.

“you like it?” he mumbles, biting down on his lip at the way your nails graze his scalp. 

he’d been on his best behavior all night, shy smiles and innocent touches as he got to know you and saw you come out of your shell bit by bit; it probably helped that he was just as nervous and uncomfortable as you.

but now, with a few drinks in him and the way you’re looking at him, he feels himself losing it. losing the resolve to be good and just wanting feel your lips against his for a second; nothing more, nothing less. 

“i like everything about you,” you say teasingly, your hand moving down to twist his necklace around your finger. the metal pulling at his neck causes his adams apple to bob, his eyes falling to your mouth at the exact moment you slip your tongue out to wet your dry lips.

the music is blaring and you think a group of kids are fighting but you can only hear the ringing in your ears and the pounding of your heart, cocking your head to the side when the eyes that have been so soft and sweet turn dark and hungry. 

“everything about me?” 

and with the way his voice drops and a pretty smirk crosses his mouth, like he knows exactly what’s he’s doing, you twist the chain between your fingers and pull him closer to you. 

his large hand moves to your face, the sound of your breathy exhale causing desire to hit him. every reaction you have is so cute and innocent despite the boldness behind them, your lingering eyes and lips pulled into a smirk making him wanna do this all night.

have your hair tangled in his hand, pulling you closer until your lips finally meet and part on one another. your tongues colliding and moans being swallowed as he presses you against the wall. hearing you sigh out his name and make sure you want to see him and kiss him.

but he doesn’t get the chance. 

because just before your lips can meet, he's harshly grabbed by the back of his shirt and shoved across the room. your eyes pop open when you nearly fall forward if not for the hard chest you bump into as seonghwa towers over you; his eyes hot and blazing and face so tense it makes your stomach swoop in nervousness.

"y/n," he growls and you immediately feel your heart start to pound, narrowing your eyes at him.

"what do you want, seonghwa?"

"what the fuck," you hear hyunjin shout, watching as the blonde stomps toward him. seonghwa rolls his eyes upon hearing it, turning around and catching the quick fist flying his way. it shocks hyunjin as much as you but the boy doesn’t show his reaction reacts, sneering at him as he asks what the hell is his problem is.

"has nothing to do with you so back off, hyunjin."

"she said she didn't wanna see you," he retorts, ripping his hand from seonghwa's grasp and pushing at him. he hits the back of the wall and you wince at the loud sound, standing in front of hyunjin as you see the dirty blonde make his way over.

"st-stop," you drunkly whine, pressing yourself back into hyunjin and causing seonghwa to growl out your name lowly. 

"no. he's right. i didn't wanna see you."

he bites the inside of your cheek when those words leave your mouth, your heart sinking at the way his face every so slightly drops and eyes twinge with hurt.

"just give me five minutes. i need it."

"and i need you to leave me alone. i've given you almost three months, what's so different now?"

you were with someone else, he thinks, you were with someone else and there's nothing he hates more than seeing his girl with a guy who's not him. he's had to watch it all fucking night and it's killing him, making him so god damn angry and jealous he thinks he's about to explode.

but if you guys kissed, he'd be over. he would've gone over and beat the shit out of the long, blonde haired boy watching you two right now with curious eyes.

"y/n," he growls again.

but you only roll your eyes because it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with his pride. he saw you with someone else while you haven't looked his way, smiling and giggling and trying to forget him in the arms of someone else.

and it was working, it really was working. your heart feel like something other than the breaking, crumbling mess it's been since the moment you left your aunt's house. since the stupid boy looking at you like you're the one hurting him started this mess in the first place.

"i don't wanna talk to you!" you whine loudly, stomping the few steps toward him and pushing him back with all the force you can muster; but given your size difference and drunken state, he doesn't go far. he only clenches his jaw and wraps his hand around your wrist, dragging you outside despite you telling him to stop manhandling you.

you don't know where san is, thinking those two conspiring assholes made their moves on you at the same time, and you hear hyunjin's friend telling him not to cause problems with them. but you don't wanna be anywhere near him, especially in this vulnerable state.

because you know you're gonna end up crying and you're so fucking sick of crying. so sick of saying the same things to him and then hearing his lousy apologies over and over again. having the memories of your summer play in your mind when he says a certain word or gives you a familiar look.

you're so sick of him and a part of you wishes you never met him. that you just spent your summer quietly inside or at the beach with your aunt so you didn't realize you were capable of being loved by a man like him, even if it was just for a short time and in private.

even if everything might've been a lie. because it's the memories of him that makes this so hard, remembering how the same boy who could look so unbothered about you was the same boy who'd mumble into your skin that he loved you.

the same boy who now dragged you outside, the crisp night air cooling your warm, flushed skin. you cross your arms as you look up at him with your face pinched in anger, tears of frustration already pricking your eyes.

"what is wrong with you!" you yell, your hands balling into fists as you resist the urge to stomp your foot and smack him. his eyes narrow and he steps forward, his large hand taking your face in his hold. his thumb rubs at your hot skin gently, anger coursing through him at himself.

this is his fault. this is all his fault and now you're sad and drunk and ready to cry.

"you're drunk," he states obviously. you roll your eyes at his statement, biting the inside of your cheek so you don't say the vengeful comment that wants to leave you.

but because you are drunk and pissed and not in your right frame of mind, you say it anyway.

"so what," you snap at him. "if you're thinking that's why i was about to make out with hyunjin, then you're absolutely-"

anger flares in his eyes and he tugs you closer to him, tightening his hold on you. everything inside of you is screaming to push him away and yell at him, tell him he doesn't get to do this anymore; that you're not his and you never were.

but you can't find the words in your fuzzy brain, looking up at his dark gaze and feeling a sense of pride in how angry that made him, especially when his words are lowly growled at you.

"you better fuckin' stop, y/n."

"i don't think i will," you say, pressing your body closer to him and moving your finger over his lips. "i think i'll kiss you both and see who does it better." his jaw tightens at the same time his hands on your wrist and hip do, growling another warning "stop it," in your ear. 

"why? at least hyunjin was gonna kiss me in front of people.”

your words are powerful and biting but the hurt in them is obvious. hurt that's been building up for months and festering. "he even talked to me all night in front of people. and you just watched from a-far, as usual," you hiccup, "like you didn't even know me."

his eyes soften at your tone and he drops your wrist from his hold, looking down at you carefully in case you're gonna try to flee. but your vengeful look is quickly changing to sadness, seeing him stand in front of you with his gaze softening by the second.

"y/n, baby, i would talk to you but-"

"but nothing," you snap, your eyes shooting to his. "i am so fucking sick of us having this conversation, seonghwa. just admit i wa-wasn't anything to you and we can move on with our lives."

"stop. fucking. saying that," he says, taking your face in his hands and holding it tightly. his warm hands on your skin makes tears prick your head, his chest heaving as he tries to control the emotions ripping through him.

"stop giving me hope," you cry out, "stop making me think you're gonna admit that you love me. that you loved me at all and actually considered giving us a chance."

the more you get worked up, the more you start to hiccup and the tighter he holds you. he hates seeing you like this and it's obvious in the way his stomach is sinking, how he just wants to take you back to his house and mumble apologies against your skin until you give him another chance.

"i do love you."

"w-we knew each other for two months, that's not enough time to love.”

because that’s another thing you started to think. maybe you both were just confused about what you felt, so consumed by teenage lust and fascination that you convinced yourselves it was love; you didn’t think that was the case for you, but maybe for him.

maybe it wasn’t enough time for him to love.

"yes it is," he growls, pushing you back until you hit the brick wall behind you. you swallow nervously at how close he's pressed up against you. he can smell the alcohol on you mixed with the scent of your perfume and he remembers it so vividly.

lingering when you would pass him on the beach, faintly on the case of his pillow after you would sleep in his bed, tickling his nose when you would fall asleep on his shoulder; even when you were sick and smelt like sweat, you had that scent.

"don't fucking tell me it's not enough time when you're the only person i've ever felt like this about," he says lowly, his voice low and deep and so full of certainty, your stupid little heart lifts again. "and i know you feel the same way."

you swallow the lump in your throat and tears are burning your eyes at the way he's so close to you. his hand’s right next to your head and his body is right against yours, finding comfort in the feeling you were so trying so hard to forget.

but because you know seonghwa would never hurt you and welcome his presence despite everything, you don't realize how bad this position looks.

not until an unfamiliar, feminine voice speaks up.

"hey! get the hell away from her!"

"jojo, they might be-"

"she's about to cry, that's definitely fucking not-"

"okay, relax!”

the small girl with long brown hair looks at you with sympathy swarming in your eyes, her friend eyeing seonghwa suspiciously and looking ready to fight him.

"hey, are you okay?"

your lip wobbles at the soft kindness of the girl's voice, the one named jojo looking between you and seonghwa. "ye-yes," you hiccup, shooting the girls a small smile as they narrow their eyes. "i promise, i'm okay. we're just....talking."

"why are you pinning her against the wall?" the girl asks, feisty and eyes blazing; seonghwa can smell the alcohol on her breath but has a feeling she's usually this bold without the liquid courage.

"i'm just talking to her."

“you can’t talk to her without towering over her?”

seonghwa looks at girl with an annoyed look, throwing his hands up innocently before taking a few steps away from you.

the girl looks at you and you nod your head to confirm that it’s okay and you are just talking, eyes shining with gratitude despite the tears in them. the two girls look at you for a few silent moments before nodding their heads.

"we'll be around, if you need help call out."

"thank you but i promise i'm okay," you hiccup, the girl giving the tall boy one last dirty look before walking away.

"you can't just do that shit, jo. you have to be careful."

"oh please, what were his chicken legs really gonna do?"

you wanna laugh at the girls comment but can only feel sadness in your chest, you and seonghwa looking at each other as his hands run through his light hair. your eyes train on the floor and he lets out a long exhale, looking at your dejected, drained figure.

"i was never more honest about my shit than when i was with you this summer, y/n," he finds himself finally saying truthfully. 

he was happiest with you, he wished he could be like that all the time and wanted nothing more than that. wished he could believe every day of his life that he was good for you and treat you as such.

you swallow the lump in your throat and the tears are stinging your eyes so badly at the way he's saying this. how his words always sound so true and genuine and make your heart soar.

"but now you're lying," you squeak out shakily, your watery eyes meeting his and making his lips turn into a frown. "you're lying and it's hurting me. i feel like...i feel like i don’t even know what the truth is anymore.” 

he swallows the lump in his throat at your words, watching your eyes roam his face before a tear runs down your cheek. 

"i wish i never met you," you blurt out honestly, your words breathy and full of sadness. "because you've hurt me so badly and have made me so sad but i still..." you can't say the words that you still love and want him because it's so stupid.

"come here," he says, his voice low and pained but direct as he looks at you. a whimper leaves your mouth as you shake your head at him, trying to back away from him but only pushing yourself further into the wall.

"no," you brokenly whisper, voice small and shaky as you feel all the giddy drunkenness drain from you. now it's like every sad and heartbroken emotion you've felt hits you tenfold, your chest and stomach physically paining you.

"please, baby," he says lowly, his voice making your stomach twist even more.

"we're gonna figure it out but, please baby, for now, i need you with me. i'm here with you. we're both here and we have time left together."

you stay planted against his shirt until your tears stop falling, nodding your head against him and feeling your face flush with embarrassment. you hadn't meant to avoid him all day but you were just so sad when you realized how many days you had left with him. until you were ripped apart and wouldn't see other for god knows how long.

"i know it's hard and i'm not mad at you," he says again when he sees guilt and shame in your eyes. "but i'm here. how many times did i have to say it, pretty girl," he hums lowly, his hand running softly through your hair as his tone is laced with slight amusement.

"you can't call me that," you say, shaking your head as tears continue to blur your vision. "or look at me like that. it's not fair."

his eyebrow quirks up and he takes another step toward you, his heart dropping at the way your face falls even more. you know he's about to reach out and hug you and pull you into his arms and you're gonna crumble. cry into his chest and have him stroke your hair and tell you everything's gonna be okay.

but it's not okay. how he's treated you isn't okay. how he's discrediting everything you guys had isn't okay. and it's not okay that every part of you is gonna be willing to forgive him.

"none of this is fair," you say when he leans closer, voice dripping with anger and sadness as you smack at his chest. "you're hurting me and you could give a shit and i wish i never fucking met you. why did you do this?" 

you knock your fists into his chest and he takes every single one as he wraps his arms around you and pulls your body closer.

he shushes your muffled cries against your head, muttering that he's so sorry over and over again. sorry that he knew he wasn't good for you but allowed this to happen anyway and sorry that he can't say he wishes he never met you.

because meeting you was quite easily the best thing that ever happened to him and he thinks it's about time he proves that to you. he holds you until it seems as if every last tear is out of your system, your body slumping into his chest before he hears your breaths even out.

(part 18)

[geekynichelle]

So, I saw this tweet, and it started a conversation about the appeal of Harley Quinn, and I wrote this because I was possessed. It’s long so I put it below the cut. All opinions are my own.

Is Harleen Quinzel overrated? Honestly, I don’t know. Nor do I really care. Plenty of people love characters that others find overdone, and that shouldn’t have any bearing on whether or not they are liked on a personal level. You could equally say that Loki or Deadpool are overrated, and while I do believe race plays a role in why all three of these chaos agents are popular, gender is obviously why more people are vocal about finding Harley played out. 

Getting that out of the way, let’s dive into the nitty gritty. What the hell is appealing about this clown to a Black, queer and neurodivergent woman? To start I want to bring into play the idea that what Black women do and don’t enjoy is often put in a narrow box. Growing up I knew my mother liked action movies (even more so than my step-dad- huzzah for breaking gender stereotypes), and in her own words the reason for that is that she likes to see “people who deserve it get their ass kicked”. In our real life, society rarely dishes out justice for Black people the way we deserve, and while the action genre is made up of mostly white dudes, who is good and who is bad are clear cut, and we can always root for someone who punches out racists and misogynists. As a result I should have been less surprised that my mother would like Deadpool, but it still amuses me to this day. 

Deadpool, in his sequel film, has a moment when he with no hesitation shoots a man who he knows to be a child abuser, because unlike a traditional heroic figure there’s no question in his mind that that was the right thing to do. Whether this would be good in the real world or not is irrelevant because the catharsis comes from the fact that to Deadpool the child harmed mattered way more than anything other factors in that scenario. 

This is the appeal of those types of characters in general. Translating this to Harley Quinn in that way is easy. Evil deeds aside, her initial/general backstory is that she was a doctor (of psychology) that fresh out of grad school was sent to talk to the Joker, who in turn manipulated her compassion and convinced her to free him/join him. In the 90s animated series, which is where she first appears, the episode Mad Love shows us that not only was Harley taken advantage of, but also that she is extremely capable on her own. Batman point blank tells the Joker (after he’s hit her/tossed her out a window) that Harley is the only person that’s come that close to killing him. The Joker (who was initially going to leave her for good) realizes that he’s unleashed someone arguably better than him into the world, and like any abuser decides to get back on her good side to maintain control over her chaos rather than let her realize her worth. 

The new animated series dedicated just to Quinn, explores that notion further, and at some point during the second season sees Harley realize that she isn’t a hero or a villain, but rather a reactionary. She seems to have a soft spot for other abuse victims and in the series draws the line at over excessive killing, especially of innocent people. Ivy even states that while Harley is a criminal she is (at least in Ivy’s eyes) a good person. She has after all genuinely helped Ivy, and on occasion has helped save the day of her own free will. 

Obviously, like with any comic book character, how she is characterized depends on the writer, but it’s fair to say based on the media I’ve personally consumed putting Harley in a morality box is a wasted effort. What makes her special is that she resides in those grey areas. As I mentioned earlier her ability to reside there and remain popular of course relates to her whiteness, however I do think it’s important to remember that Harley Quinn is also Jewish and is therefore not a complete stranger to concepts of oppression. She is also in recent years officially considered Bisexual, and while all Batman villains are vaguely mental ill, she does fill up that category as well. 

I came across a tweet earlier today that suggested her whiteness is why many of her fans have turned her into a girlboss and downplayed her violence. I can certainly see where that person was coming from, but on a personal note, based on the above information that is certainly not the case for me. I know that I would enjoy Harley just as much (if not more) if she was a non-white woman, and that her violence and moral ambiguity are apart of what makes her a fun character. I’d never downplay her evil deeds. Granted, what I consider canon has a lot to do with the stories I’ve consumed (i.e I’ve never read anything about her involvement in the Jason Todd storyline therefore to me it doesn’t really exist), but ultimately Harley is no girlboss. She is a mess, and to quote Marie Kondo, “I love mess.” 

To put this further in perspective, when I was a kid I didn’t even know Bisexuality was a thing, but I did know that I liked when Harley and Ivy were together, and now as an adult who is out, seeing them officially canon affected me a bit more than I thought it would. They might not be good people, but I don’t think representation needs to always be about being squeaky clean. And ultimately that’s the rub isn’t it? Harley isn’t exactly like me and I’m not exactly like her, but she represents a level of chaos that yeah, as a marginalized person I’m not allowed to express. She can be a good person, but she can also be extremely outrageous. She shows that being the victim of abuse isn’t about how smart you are and that it can happen to anyone. She also shows that you can leave that behind and get stronger mentally and physically. In the case of the new animated series she does this without motherhood/babies thrust upon her, but through good friends who love her. 

Why Harley Quinn? Well, for me my current answer is because she’s complex. If you asked me as a child though, I’d probably say it’s because she was goofy and fun, and I wanted better for her than the Joker. Either way she’s currently being written by a Black, Disabled, Queer writer and as a long time fan, I absolutely look forward to the nuisances that’ll be added to the character as a result.

[random-imagines-blog]

Under Atomic Skies {John Blake x Reader}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 2558 Summary: John Blake would do just about anything to keep his family safe.

You looked over at John as he came into your cozy little Gotham home. His mouth was set in a grim line against the contours of his handsome face. You could feel the stress radiating off of him. “Did the kids see?” He asked, turning off the television that you were sitting in front of. You shook your head in a no, and he sighed in relief. They were playing in their rooms, your son and your daughter. The blasts in the street had caused the house to rumble, but they didn’t ask any questions. They just played ‘earthquake’. You didn’t want to explain to them what happened until your husband, John, got home with his own explanation. And what he said, all of it, it broke your heart. This was the city you both grew up in. This was the city you had fallen in love in. Gave birth in, raised your kids in, got a mortgage in, worked in, made your home. And it was being threatened once more.

“There’s going to be riots, and looting, and who knows what else,” You said, your eyes looking over to the front door. There were three locks on it already, with John being a bit of a cautious man. With you being a cop’s wife. But those three didn’t seem enough when you were now the wife of the only cop, or detective, left to protect the city. The rest were caught in the underground. John’s partner included. “What are we going to tell the kids? Is Ross alright? Should we move to a safe house?”

“Ross is fine, I’ve already figured out where he is. There’s a sewer grate right above them, I can talk to him,” John said, which made you give your own sigh of relief. Your husband’s partner was like family, your kids even called him Uncle Ross. “I have hope in Gotham, we’ll get through this, sweetheart.”

But you weren’t so sure. You loved this city, but it tended to turn out bad people one after another. Thieves, mobsters, even an evil clown. And now this man who called himself Bane. It was safe to say that you were terrified, and wished that you shared in your husband’s positivity. In his hope. It was one of the things that you loved best about him. And things usually turned out pretty okay. The city had John Blake - it was going to be okay.

--

The days started to seem shorter as the countdown to the bomb began. There just didn’t seem to be enough time in the day to really appreciate each and every one. John was gone most of the time, working as a Detective, working with Batman, being the only cop in a city which was run by madness. You hardly ever left the house, and when you did, it was to go to the boys’ orphanage and help out there. There was no point in trying to work from home right now, the business was down the toilet. So you took on volunteering at the boys home, bringing your kids with you so you could keep an eye on them all at the same time. Father Reilly appreciated your help.

“It’s good for the boys to see a friendly face,” He admitted to you as you were passing out juice boxes to the kids. “All of them seemed to be glued to the news the days. They’re too young for such things. Too innocent.”

“If I wasn’t here, I’d be doing the same,” You admitted to the friendly father. You kept pressing that smile on your face, just as John did when he came home and gave the kids a huge hug each night. But the news was wearing you down. Scarecrow, Dr Jonathan Crane, was acting as judge, jury and executioner. All of the major shopping centers were looted as ‘wealth’ was dispersed in the way of material goods. You never joined in on any of that. You weren’t going to let the city take you down with it.

“There’s always hope,” Father Reilly said, putting his hand on your shoulder in solidarity. “That’s something I learned from being around these boys. No matter what life throws at them, they still play with a smile on their face.”

“It’s hard not to stay hopeful with John around,” you admitted, sitting on a bench with a juicebox of your own. You looked out over Gotham. There was still smoke in the air. There was always smoke in the air. The sounds of chanting from the courthouse. Vehicles still moving about down there, despite there really being nowhere to go. John had filled you in that one of those large trucks was carrying around the bomb, and your eyes caught on one as it turned a corner a few blocks down. It was terrifying, knowing that it was so close. But you still had a few days before it would go off. There was still time to find it. There was time to fix this whole mess. “Include John in your prayers tonight for me, father? It can’t hurt for us to be a little louder.”

“I already include him every night, y/n,” Father said, sitting beside you, stretching out his old leg bones. He was no longer the young man who used to chase John around this very building. The stress was taking a toll on him, and had even before the bombings. “And all of those officers stuck under the city.”

“They’re getting food and water, and vitamin D tablets,” You explained. “John and Ross have been keeping in touch. He’s even been scouting out an area where he might be able to get them out. He’s been working nonstop on this. I hope that when it’s all over, I can convince him to take a break.”

“Good luck asking him to take a break from anything,” Father Reilly laughed. It was the first real laugh you had heard since this whole thing began, at least from someone other than a child. It made you grin. You knew that it was absolutely true. John was one of the most dedicated people in this city. And when he believed in something, whether it’s in Batman, or in you, he never gave up on it. He’d fight til the end.

--

The day after tomorrow. The bomb was going to blow, according to John. The military still weren’t letting people go across the bridge. They were even threatening to blow that up themselves to stop people. Most of the population didn’t know, they were much too busy fighting each other to realize that Bane wasn’t actually going to give a detonator to an ordinary citizen. Or that an ordinary citizen would even want this city to blow up. He had to have the detonator all this time. And with Batman missing again, and the cops still trapped, and only very few people actually working on the streets... even your hope was beginning to wane. And John’s.

You moved into the shelter with the boys, taking care of them, tucking them in, acting like the mother that they never had. Because if all went wrong, this would be their last few days and they deserved to feel that love. You put the blankets over them, made sure that they had their bears which they were given as emotional support, and gave them each a peck on the forehead. Even the older boys, so quick to shun the bears since they were childish, needed something to hold onto.

The day before the bomb went off was chaotic. All of your rations were packed away to take off in the morning, just in case things didn’t work out. John was convinced that the military would see reason and let a bus full of children across. And you, importantly. He wasn’t going to be able to go on if anything happened to you, he admitted.

“You just do your job, Detective Blake,” You said, laying in bed with him, looking into his big, dark brown eyes. “And keep up hope that everything is going to turn out alright. It’s like that saying you know I love so much. Everything will be okay in the end, and if it’s not okay, then it’s not the end. We have to remain optimistic about this. Not just for us, but for the kids.”

--

The bomb was set to go off in less than an hour. All of the kids, the father, a few other works, John and yourself had piled onto the schoolbus and tried to get out to the bridge. The military were guarding it cautiously. Too cautiously. Guns were pointed not only at you, who had gotten out to support John, and your husband. Father Reilly was giving up hope. But you weren’t. The second that John had gotten the door unlocked, you slipped through it, standing in front of him.

“Please,” You pleaded, stepping forward tentatively. Your eyes were struggling to meet the soldier’s, and not just focus on his gun. “I’m asking you not as a citizen of Gotham, but as a mother. As a human being. These children are innocent in all of this. If they don’t leave, they’re going to get killed anyway. Have you seen the riots, and the looting, and all of the crime? Is that an environment you want your kids raised in?”

“You need to get back,” The soldier said, though his voice was shakier than before.

“Please, do not shoot,” John yelled, his accent cutting through the air. He walked up alongside you, badge in hand, those hands up towards the sky. He stepped in alongside you, then a step ahead, protecting you. Always acting like your human shield. Warning shots came towards you, to the ground by your feet.

“Get back,” John whispered to you. And you didn’t fight him on that, you went right back behind the chain-link door with the others, but watched with worried eyes. Your fingers slipped through the holes, gripping onto the metal. However much John worried about you getting hurt, you worried right back. Tenfold. The city would be lost without him. You would be lost without him, so would the kids.

“Detective, please, stop!” The young looking officer barked out. He looked as scared as you felt. But John was stubborn, and wasn’t going to stop for anything. He took two steps forward. More bullets shot near his feet, sending little shocks of light. That made him pause, but not stop. Another step. “STOP WALKING.” He looked towards another soldier that was with him and said the words that made your heart stop. “BLOW IT.”

The two men disappeared behind the shelters made of sandbags. “John-” You cried out, hoping to God that he would turn around and walk back to you before the explosives would go off.

“DO IT.” The soldier ordered.

Your stubborn husband. He made another step before the explosives detonated. Smoke filled your vision, but you saw that he was thrown backwards. You went through the door again, coughing through the dark and acrid smoke, trying to find him. A whole section of the bridge fell from existence, causing a rumble that made you fall. A hand caught your own, and you could feel from familiarity that it was John’s.

“YOU SONS OF BITCHES,” John said, getting onto his feet and pulling you up alongside with him. He had his arms around you, still shielding you from the military. You avoided looking at them now, because John was speaking what you were thinking. “YOU KILLED US.”

It was hard to maintain that hope in the face of this much adversity, but you had to try. He was moving back towards the door, back towards the kids. You stopped him outside of the bus, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, and brought him in for what might be your last hug. “You’ve done everything that you can, my love,” You said, looking into his dark eyes. “I have faith in the Batman. And in Gordon. They’re figuring this out, and if they don’t then - then you cannot blame yourself. You risked your life time and time again. Gotham can not ask any more from you.”

John nodded, but you could still see the frustration on his face. But then another expression took over it. One of hope. And wonder. He pointed behind you, towards the skies, towards the water. You turned around to see that there was some black thing flying through the air, holding what looked to be-

- the bomb.

It was being flown over the waters, towards the sea, away from Gotham. Batman had come through. There was no mistaking who else it could be in that jetblack air craft. Nobody else had the technology for that. Your hands went to your heart, holding it in because it was beating so quickly, it felt like it might pop out. John put his arms around you from behind. All of the kids rushed to one side of the bus to look out of the windows. There were excited voices coming from everywhere.

Then the bomb went off. You could see the explosion from where you were. It caused a stiff wind to blow towards you. The bridge rippled as the water beneath it did as well. It was a wonder that the windows of the bus didn’t break. But it was gone, and it was over. And though you felt relieved, you looked up at John with sorrow. He had believed in the Batman, more than he believed in his own police force. But at least the threat against your family, for now, was over and done with.

--

When you first saw him wearing the mask and the suit, you were worried. Who wouldn’t be? He was taking over the moniker of Batman and all of the enemies that brought along with it. But at least he had promised that he would wear the mask, something he had sworn never to do in the first place. But he had you to think about, and the kids. He’d already had an enemy threaten you, with Bane and the entire city, and he realized this wasn’t just about playing heroics. It was about taking care of his own. His people. Gotham’s people.

“Are you going to be home to tuck the kids into bed?” You asked, before John set off to go to the underground bunker. Even you didn’t know the exact location. The less you knew, the better.

“I’ll try to be,” He said, cupping your chin and pressed a sweet and loving, though quick, kiss upon your lips. “Don’t wait up for me though.”

“Easier said than done,” You said. He chuckled, knowing that was the truth, gave you a long look like he was memorizing your face, then disappeared out into the evening twilight, to get ready to prowl the night in his newly assigned role as The Batman.

[avengerscompound]

It’s You and Me - Chapter 10

It’s You and Me: A Hawkeye Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Clint Barton x  F!Reader

Word Count:  1758

Rating:  E

Warnings:  Mentions of past abuse, some kinda sexual stuff (though it’s light and probably pg movie worthy), some of this is canon comic stuff - so you may have already read it.

Synopsis: You and Clint Barton go way back.  Since you joined the circus as a child, he took it upon himself to keep you away from the people who really wanted to hurt you.  For years the two of you danced a line between dark and light.

When he chooses light the two of you go your separate ways.

Fifteen years later he tracks you down.  Those feelings the two of you shared never went away, but now he is not only an Avengers but a single father.  Can the two of you make it work after all this time when your lives have gone in such different directions?

A series told in flashbacks and current day.

Chapter 10: Then

Clint ran through the circus looking for Eden.  He’d been in town getting some things when he’d spotted the paper.  The words ‘Art Dealer Murdered’ were splashed over the front page, with a photograph of the man Clint recognized from when he’d had the meeting with Tiboldt and a picture of some of the missing art.  He knew it had to do with the circus.  That someone from here had killed him when they’d tried to steal the art.  After what you had said about Eden potentially being involved, he was terrified that someone was her.

“Anyone seen Eden?”  He called as he ran through the carnies setting up the tents for the show tonight.

He spotted Bruto the Strong Man hammering in some of the larger poles and rushed over to him.  “Bruto,” he said, slightly breathless.  “You seen Eden around?”

Bruto thrust his thumb over his shoulder.  “Check Tiboldt’s trailer.”

Clint nodded and ran towards the orange trailer that had the large banner advertising the circus on the side.  “Eden,” he called.  “Tiboldt - you guys in there?”

The door opened a crack and the thin weasley face peered around the corner.  “What do you want, Barton?”

“Where’s Eden?”  Clint asked.

Tiboldt narrowed his eyes.  “What… do … you… want?”

Clint thrust the paper forward, right into the Ringmaster’s face so he could see the headline.  “This is the guy you were talking to a few days ago!”

“Really?”  Tiboldt said, playing coy.  “I talk to so many people when we do our shows…”

“He was the museum guy - we were gonna do some children’s charity gig for him?”  Clint questioned.

Tiboldt chuckled drily and handed the paper back to Clint.  “Apparently, we won’t be now.”

Clint scowled, taking it.  “Where’s Eden?”

Tiboldt pushed the door open so that Clint could see inside.  Eden was sitting at the dressing table, naked except for a small towel wrapped around her waist.  She turned, obviously startled that the Ringmaster would give her away.  “Clint!”  She yelped.  “I…”

Clint fumed.  He wanted to yell.  To fight Tiboldt.  To do something to express how angry and hurt he was right now.  Tiboldt was the boss though and he was stuck.  He’d been sleeping with Eden and they’d gone and murdered someone together and Clint was just some dumb sucker.

He spun on his heel and stormed off.

He’d made it halfway down the big top before Eden came chasing after him, the towel only barely wrapped around her.  “Clint!  Wait!” She called.  “It’s not what you think!”

“Yeah?”  He snapped, tossing the paper into the air.  “‘Cause I’m thinkin’ you’re with him when you said you were my girl -” he loosed an arrow at it and shot past Eden’s head, pinning the paper to the wall of the trailer she was standing next to, the arrowhead piercing the picture of the murder victim through the head.  “- and you helped him commit murder!”

“You…” Eden stammered.  “You really think I would murder someone?”

Clint faltered.  He didn’t know what he believed.  He loved Eden and had loved her for a while now.  But seeing her naked in that trailer only days after you had warned him about what was going on, he wasn’t sure if he could trust her.  “I - no… no, I don’t…”

She approached him running her hand up into the back of his head and leaning into him.  “As for Tiboldt and me - please - I was posing for a new trailer poster.”  She looked into his eyes and tilted her head.  “No one touches me - you know that.  No one but you.”

She opened her towel, and wrapped it around him, bringing her naked body to his right out in the open in front of everyone.  Heat flushed Clint’s skin and every coherent thought left his head.  He kissed Eden deeply and hungrily the only thing even remotely resembling a coherent thought was the deep animalistic hunger he felt for her.

That night as you and Clint got ready for the show, he’d all but forgotten the incident from earlier and the murder of the art dealer.  You were fussing with the horses as he checked his equipment.

“Five minutes ‘til showtime!”  Tiboldt called.  Clint flexed his bowstring and the bow snapped.  “Ah, nuts!”  He cursed and looked around, while Tidbolt called out the run list.  “Anyone got a soldering iron?”

You shook your head while the other performers ignored him.  “Hurry, Clint,” you said.  “We’re first.”

“I’ll be quick,” he agreed and ran out the back of the tent.  Eden was coming in from outside.  She was wearing a bikini that would match her flesh if it wasn’t covered from neck to toe in intricate tattoos.  “Eden, baby, I need a soldering iron,” he said.

“Oh, I got one, Clint,” she teased.

“You do?” He said, completely missing the teasing in his desperation to fix the bow before curtains up.

“You wanna know where I’m keeping it?”  She smirked

Realization dawned on him.  Of course, the woman who was basically naked didn’t have a soldering iron on her.  “Oh,” he said.

“Try one of the storage chests, you big dope - the purple one, I think,” she said.

He rushed down to where the storage chests were but instead of one, there were three purple chests, each identical to the other.  “Aw, man…” he whined.  “Eden… three of them are purple!”

“Two minutes!”  Tiboldt called.

“C’mon…” Clint muttered, opening one of the trunks.  Sitting on top of the chest was the painting from the paper.  It had been Tiboldt, just like he’d thought.  Which meant it was probably Eden too.

His heart sunk.  He didn’t know what to do.  It was one thing when it was just stealing - but murder?  How could he stay with the Circus knowing they were doing that?

“Ladies and Gentleman -”  Tiboldt called, his voice amplified over the big top.  Clint cursed again and began digging for the soldering iron in the other trunks.

He’d well and truly missed his queue when he reached you.  Eden was out on the floor working her contortionist routine.  “Where have you been?”  You asked.  “You missed your queue.”

“I’m sorry!”  He said and came over close to you.  “I was fixing my bow and I found a painting… one of the missing ones.  They killed that art guy.”

You frowned.  “Shit.”

“Did you have anything to do with it?”  He asked.

You held up your hands.  “I swear I didn’t, Clint.  I thought about it, but I knew if they had that over me, then they’d have control of me.”

“You think Eden did?”  Clint muttered.

You looked around and pulled Clint behind the horses more.  He tried to see what had got you spooked and noticed Tiboldt watching you both.  “I don’t know.  Maybe,” you whispered.  “You should ask her that.”

Clint’s shoulders sagged.  “I might get us a motel room.  Maybe if she’s away from the circus she’ll tell me.”

You shrugged.  “Maybe.”

“Hawkeye, Sugar.  You already missed on queue, you better get this one,” Tiboldt snapped, appearing around the front of the horses.

“Yes, sir!” You said, getting on your horse.

Clint did the same and waited for his queue.  You leaned over to him.  “Clint, what are you gonna do if she did do it?”

Clint shrugged.  “I dunno.  I dunno if I can stay here.  Would you come with me?”

“Where would we go?”  You asked.   “We ran away to the circus, what’s after that?”

“Welcome to the ring, the man who can’t miss, Hawkeye!”  Tiboldt announced, interrupting Clint’s train of thought.  He spurred his horse on through the curtains.  Not that he was sure what he was going to do, but if he turned everyone in, there was no way that the answer could be this anymore.

You sat next to Clint by the payphone in the street.  He’d done what he’d said.  He’d taken Eden to a motel.  They’d gotten dirty and then clean again, and while they showered he’d asked her about the murder.  She denied the murder but not the theft and then got mad at him for not trusting her.  Clint had gone to bed feeling sick to his stomach and the next morning he woke well before Eden, come back to the circus, and got you.

“You really gonna do this, Clint?”  You asked.

He shrugged.  “I dunno.  They killed someone.  That guy has a family.  Friends.  They deserve some kind of closure.”

You nodded.  “The circus will be done.  What will we do?”

“Go on the road together,” Clint suggested.  “The act won’t be quite as good without the horses and the clowns, but we could do a pretty good routine.  Maybe some solo work too.”

“Maybe if you do it anonymously they won’t know it was you,” you suggested.

“Eden will know,” he said.  “So will Tiboldt. This is gonna burn us.  I already got my leg busted because I threatened to turn them in once.”

“I guess… make the call, and we go back and … pack our things?”  You said.  “If we can get as much of our stuff as we can, we won’t need to start from scratch.”

“You’re really going to come with me?”  Clint asked.

“Clint,” you said softly, lowering your eyes.  “I know you don’t know exactly what happened to me before I joined the circus, but when I joined, and Jacques said I needed to take those pictures - he said that he wouldn’t touch me.  That it’d just be some naked pictures and that’d pay for my upkeep.  I didn’t like it, but … it was like levels, you know?  When someone keeps breaking your bones, and then a different person says, come here I’ll bruise you, but I won’t break your bones, you go because compared to the broken bones, the bruising feels like heaven.  And you… you said you’d protect me from anyone hurting me at all.  And you did.  You kept Jacques away from me and you gave me a way to protect myself.  And you’ve never expected anything from me.  I kept expecting that one day you’d be like ‘well look what I did, now you owe me so open up those pretty legs of yours’ but you didn’t.  So yeah, Clint.  I’ll go with you because it’s you and me.  You’ve always got my back, it’s only fair I have yours too.”

Clint looked at you and smiled sadly.  “You and me,” he said and patted your thigh.  “Okay.  I’m gonna do this.”

// NEXT