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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 1 year

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Part 7 - running from a crucifixion

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"Look, to you I'm different- it's 'cause I refuse to listen to all the stupid shit that you include in your opinion. I got enough issues trying to be a human living in a ruined system while I'm running from a crucifixion." -Monster in Me by From Ashes to New

Masterlist Part 6

Jazz felt a shiver run down her spine.

Currently in her office sorting through another pile of paperwork, the Regent hadn’t been bothered by any denzien for the past few hours thanks to the guard outside her door barring all but a select few. It’d been nice to demolish one of the piles that weighed down her desk.

She had a feeling that Danny was doing something stupid. Or reckless, but she was betting on stupid.

Her little brother had finally healed enough to transform into Phantom to join her nightly patrols, a welcome addition to her mostly routine nights so far, and Jason’s proto-core was healing at a decent rate. Frostbite’s original timeline for him to wake up probably was on point, if he continued to adjust to the pure ecto in his system as he had been so far. It was good news for the Fentons, soon they would be able to move Jason back to his haunt. And Jazz could get her bed back.

(She ignored the part of her that would miss his firm presence at her back, the jumble of limbs she had to untangle herself from every time she left the bed.)

(Jason seemed to gravitate to her proto-core’s warmth.)

(It did not make Jazz happy. Not at all.)

(Frostbite had only offered her a secretive smirk at her questioning of how attracted attached she was to the once-revenant.)

(Damn Yeti.)

A moment taken to clear her head of such thoughts, Jazz stood up from her desk to stretch her heavy limbs. Life was settling, oddly enough, but when would that change?

Witching Hours patrol was, admittedly, Jazz’s favorite time of night- Crime Alley was alive while the world outside slept. There were good people who called the Alley their home, their haunt if you will, and the Regent found herself gravitating towards the street walkers when she wanted company during the slow moments.

They were people doing a job and Jazz had nothing but respect for them. Interwoven as a tight-knit community, a new vigilante hanging about was disconcerting. The Regent was a steadfast presence though and was gradually wearing them down, but Jazz was sure her willingness to beat down the assholes who push their luck helped her case.

Armored to the teeth with her ecto-sword at her side, she kept a watchful eye during the Alley’s Witching Hours patrol. The big bat himself had refused to cross into the Hood’s territory, but a few of the birds and smaller bats had no such qualm.

With the King and his Regent’s aid of the Haunt of the Red Hood, the Shades that claimed shelter from larger predators would eagerly warn of approaching intruders, especially those that came with less than neutral intent.

Robin was one such intruder.

The youngest of the flock, a fellow sword wielding vigilante, the Robin was a strange bird.

He felt like Jason did now, but younger, less corrupt than the ecto in the once-Revenant. Perhaps it was due to his age, but there was little doubt that the baby bird would become a powerful baby ghost when it was his time.

(Lady Gotham had no more of herself left to give, should one of her knights meet an end.)

(She had given of herself for Jason, the once and Future Hope of Gotham.)

The Regent, brought to attention by a Shade, turned to the Bird in her presence.

“Good Evening, Robin.” Her voice echoed with a soft cadence. “What brings you to the Hood’s Haunt?”

The small bird scowled, irritation all but leaking from his very being, “Where is Red Hood?”

Though he couldn’t see her expression from underneath her helmet, Jazz tried not to let her shock be obvious.

(What had led the bird to her?)

“Pardon?”

“Do not waste time, tell me where my brother is and I will not hurt you.”

(Oh, wasn’t that adorable.)

Jazz craned her neck farther downward as she stepped closer, not daring to raise her sword from its lowered position at her side.

The Robin froze as she stood toe to toe with him, the Shades of the Alley surrounding them both as they hissed their displeasure with his threat.

(Much later, Jazz would soak in the feeling of belonging she received from the Shades.)

(The Regent was theirs.)

Robin was surely catching the charged energy in the air around them.

“I do not deal with threats, young bird, when they come from children who should not be heroes.” Jazz hissed, before she softened her tone. “Enough children have died for the sins of their parents.”

(Danny.)

(Ellie.)

(Dan.)

(Jasmine.)

“If there is anything I can tell you,” the bird was frozen in shock, perhaps fear, as Jazz continued once more, “Jason will return and he will be free from his corruption, Robin.”

The Regent did not stick around, instead allowing gravity to bring her down once she jumped from the rooftop. Hopefully Robin would understand something of what she said, but Jazz wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

Tim did not like mysteries so close to home.

Home being his siblings, his family, and nothing got his hackles raised more than a mystery that threatened the safety of his people.

Jason had vanished, no communication in or out prior to his disappearance almost two weeks prior. Usually not a concern, but the Outlaws were all accounted for and had no knowledge of where Red Hood was.

Or what he had been up to.

When trying to find a missing person, it usually helped to know what they had been doing beforehand, but Jason was a miser when it came to his personal interests- which included civilian and vigilante activities. Sure, he allowed Oracle to connect him to the main channel, but he had yet to use it.

Then there were the trackers.

Tim had three of his own in each of his siblings, one for mask and uniform and two that could be used to record vitals remotely. Bruce had approved of such paranoid foresight, of course he did, and his siblings had only accepted it and moved in, but Jason had adamantly refused Bat-monitoring of any kind- trackers included.

Though Cass had seen fit to convince their wayward brother otherwise.

Lo and behold, Tim had been given access to Jason’s only tracker- code withheld by their silent sister until it was clear that Red Hood was missing.

The best part?

It was embedded in his chest, in his very body and despite the interference of something making his vital records a rollercoaster of confusing read outs, it proved that Jason had been very much alive on the day of the last Arkham breakout.

The same breakout that Joker had been abducted and (supposedly) killed during, his head mounted like a grotesque trophy for the world to witness.

It wasn’t a coincidence that the vitals went haywire within the same timeframe as the Breakout Alarm, was it?

Tim triple checked the two times and yep, eerily same, though the biggest concern wasn’t that it was during Joker’s abduction, but the fact that the only vital to be recorded thanks to the strange interference was Jason’s heart rate- it’s max number reaching a distressing 230 bpm, before either the tracker finally gave up the ghost or … Jason did.

It was the sort of thing Tim could only keep to himself for fear of sending Bruce down the path of madness again.

It was unfortunate that Bruce seemed to come to the worst conclusion possible without Tim’s input.

The incidental meeting with the Ghost Kid, Phantom as he preferred, had thrown everything Tim believed about Death and Not-Death into a depressing tailspin, especially when he finally worked up the courage to sort through the documents and files on the flash drive.

(And don’t get him started on which was weirder- a ghost having a flash drive or pulling said thing out of his chest like it was normal to have that ability.)

Bruce had not taken Phantom well.

Not the ghost nor the information he dropped on Batman like a boulder; be it the fact that it was a dead kid he was speaking to, said kid pleading to not send him to war against the living, or an impending war with the Dead thanks to the Government fucking around and finding out.

(Bruce had been livid.)

(There were several people immensely grateful that Batman had a no killing rule.)

(Otherwise heads would be rolling.)

In all honesty, Tim wasn’t surprised anymore that the dumbasses messed up.

What he was surprised about, was the lore of the Infinite Realms at his fingertips. It was fascinating that anyone could call these entities non-sapient when they had so many cultures and traditions, the Realms even had a monarchy!

A powerful being that held several interesting titles according to Phantom’s files: Great One, Defender of The Light, Vanquisher of the Dark, the Once and Future King of Stars….

(Later, a bewildered Constantine would confirm that ‘yes, those are correct and not even close to all of them, how did you get this? Bloody hell, is this color-coded?��)

(The files were, in fact, color-coded.)

(Green, Teal, Black and Red)

There were so many powerful entities on file, organized by their known power sets, preferred name, and their ‘danger rating’… and they were kept in the green section.

(Strangely, a small ghost dog with the preferred name ‘Cujo’ was listed with two danger ratings- one for ‘small’ and one for ‘big’.)

Phantom himself was listed with a mind-boggling power set that included almost the entirety of the Justice League’s own. The only note where it concerned his rating was ‘Spirit of Protection’, which Tim suspected meant that Phantom wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be one, but the power set given made him concerned about what exactly Phantom could be protecting that needed all that.

The last listed in the high rating category was named only as ‘The Regent’, with the titles of ‘Lady of the Acropolis’ and ‘Death-Claimed Champion’. The picture was of a tall knight in black and teal armor, helmet fully obstructing their face much like the ‘Fright Knight’, bearing a long sword of some intricate design…. And bracelets he’d only seen worn by none other than Wonder Woman.

Oh yeah, Batman was gonna have a field day.

A/N: Forgot to mention that the song quotes at the beginning are more there for decoration or what songs I was listening to as I wrote. All of them are added to the Jazz/Jason playlist I have.

The idea for the files came from the AO3 fic 'Batman, Meet Team Phantom', this specific chapter. Also, an Anger management ship fic that I've reread several times now. Not a copy, but I really liked the idea.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #jazz fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #Regent Jazz in Gotham

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abyssruler · 2 years

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THE ADEPTI’S GUIDE ON HOW TO NOT CATCH FEELINGS FOR THE STRANGE MORTAL WHO HAS A MASSIVE CRUSH ON YOUR PSEUDO-DAD

step two: should step one fail

pairing: xiao x fem!reader

summary: ever since you were a child, you had sworn to everyone you’ve ever met that one day you’re going to marry rex lapis, and never once has your resolve wavered. so why is your heart suddenly doing gymnastics whenever that weird adeptus fellow shows up?! he should be helping you get with rex lapis, not trying to be cute with that little happy face he makes as he takes a bite off the almond tofu you made him!

note: fem!reader, slight crack, comedy, reader is a dumbass and xiao is moronsexual that’s it that’s the fic, lumine and hu tao being wingmen, every playable character in liyue appears at some point, reader is the biggest rex lapis simp, and no you don’t know that zhongli is rex lapis

series masterlist

previous step

You were eleven when you first heard of the Vigilant Yaksha.

It was Xinqiu with his nose always in a book who told you about him, one of Rex Lapis’s most loyal adepti.

“Why’s he called a vigilante?” He sounded like one of those delinquents from the elders’ tales to keep children from being unruly. Not that it ever stopped you from doing what you wanted.

“Vigilant,” Xingqiu corrected you without looking up from his book. “And it’s said that he is one of the reasons why Liyue remains at peace in this era. The remains of the gods slain by Rex Lapis during the Archon war left residues that preyed on the people of Liyue. There were originally five great yakshas, but now only one remains.”

“Huh,” was all you could say at the time. “That’s kinda sad.”

“It is very sad. Legends say he will continue to be tormented by the weight of the gods’ residue until the end of his time.”

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “Geez, you sound so ominous. How about you stop reading and actually help me with picking which one of these cor lapis is the real deal, nerd.”

“None of these are real. The merchant is trying to scam you.”

“What?!” You turned a glare to the fraud of a merchant who had the guts to deny that his wares were fake.

And the matter of the Vigilant Yaksha was put out of your mind, never lingering on the tale of the lonely adeptus—at least, not until nine years later when you’re sitting on the base of Rex Lapis’ statue that’s covered in the blood of a stranger.

✧

There is someone attempting to restore the Geo Archon’s statues to its former state. A clumsy attempt in Xiao’s eyes, looking at the pile of leaves beneath a tree and the water marks left on the stone, a clear indication of it being left out to dry in the air instead of being wiped dry.

A child’s work.

He has no qualms about resting his back to it and letting its healing power wash over him, uncaring of the dirt in his clothes that clings to the statue once he leaves.

The rain will wash it away and erode any lingering impurities. Whoever thought they should be cleaning the statues would do well to remember that.

✧

Within the next few months, he finds that every statue he comes upon is bereft of any lingering dust that the wind may have brought.

All of them except that of the ones in Jueyun Karst and the Chasm have been cleaned, and with every visit Xiao makes, he finds that each statue is in a better state than the last he saw it.

There’s a sense of appreciation that hadn’t been there when he first saw the clumsy attempt at cleaning them. It’s… not unpleasant to see such improvements.

✧

His Lord’s statues have never been in such good conditions since before the Cataclysm.

In a way, he is grateful for whoever is taking time from their day to do such a thing. But the change doesn’t warrant more than a passing thought, fleeting just as quickly as it arrived.

There are much better things to do than linger upon whoever mortal has deigned to clean the area.

✧

He finds a lone bracelet in the grass beside Rex Lapis’ statue.

It’s pure, uncharacteristic impulsivity that makes him crouch to the ground and take the thin accessory in his hand. Up close, he sees that it’s a tiny rendition of Morax’s Exuvia intricately carved in wood. Xiao has never had much of an eye for commerce like the other Adepti, but he knows enough to tell that this bracelet is expensive.

…And well loved, if he interprets it correctly from how worn the wood seems from multiple uses.

A quick scan of his surroundings show no sign of anyone else but him, and with how polished the statue beside him looks, perhaps his guess of the owner of this bracelet being the one who routinely cleans the statues is correct.

It’s odd for him to put great care into finding a good spot to leave the bracelet in, to make sure it remains dry should it rain and doesn’t get blown away by the wind.

But perhaps it’s his own way of showing his gratitude to whoever owns it.

✧

(“I told you it’d still be there!” A fifteen year old you yells in delight when you catch sight of your lost bracelet wedged underneath Rex Lapis’ large hand. Someone must have put it there, and you being the delusional person you are, you send a quick prayer of thanks to your future husband for protecting your stuff.

Hu Tao pretends to stroke an invisible beard. “Hmm, how strange. Maybe someone hid it there for you.”

“It was Rex Lapis, I just know it! This is his way of saying he appreciates all I’ve been doing for him!”

Never let it be said that you lacked imagination.)

✧

Xiao catches himself putting more distance between him and the statue whenever he goes to heal, knowing how filthy he gets after a long night of battling monsters and demons.

It’s a strange notion that leaves him quite baffled and unsure why he does so when he’s never cared to sully the statue with dirt in the past.

This change, however, isn’t… unwelcome.

✧

It isn’t until he’s blowing away fallen leaves using anemo that he realizes he might have spent too much time lingering on the fact that a faceless mortal is cleaning his Lord’s statues.

He spends a whole week hunting down monsters to compensate for his transgression against his duty.

✧

(“The wind is on my side! Do you see how spotless the grass is, Chongyun? You wish you were able to sweep like that!”

He sighs at your dramatics, internally grateful that he doesn’t have to be forced into sweeping another pile of dead leaves for the nth time this month.

You bring your hands up in a prayer. “Thank you, Lord Barbatos. This is clearly a blessing from the thousand winds of your approval of mine and Rex Lapis’ future marriage. You’re welcome to be the officiator in our wedding.”

Chongyun blanches at your blatant direspect of another nation’s archon. You, however, see nothing wrong with inviting a few of Rex Lapis’ archon friends over to your wedding. The more the merrier!

Venti laughs himself silly and sends a mental apology to Morax’s adeptus for taking credit for his actions.)

✧

The next time Xiao visits one of the statues, he sees a piece of cor lapis lying on the base of the statue.

Correction—he sees what seems to be a piece of cor lapis but is actually a crystal that has the same shade as cor lapis.

He doesn’t know whether it’s pity, indignation, or bafflement that makes him do what he does next after he realizes that the fake cor lapis must have been an offering for Rex Lapis.

With his near-indestructible jade spear, he cleaves a piece of cor lapis from the ground and replaces the fake one with the authentic one he personally mined with his own hands.

It doesn’t hit him how uncharacteristic his actions were until he’s standing at the top of Wangshu Inn’s balcony, eyes blinking rapidly and brows furrowed over why he did such a thing.

…It must have been the weight of his karmic debt affecting his judgment. He’ll have to rectify that immediately.

✧

(When you come to pick up the cor lapis you won from the market the other day, you’re surprised to see that it slightly changed in appearance.

Naturally, you think it’s a sign from Rex Lapis himself, which is what pushes you to suggest drinking with Hu Tao on her sixteenth birthday as celebration.

The same cor lapis is then offered to the Rite of Descension that very same day. “Rex Lapis, will you marry me?”

Xiao would have never replaced the fake cor lapis with a real one had he known what it was going to be used for.)

✧

Lately, he has noticed how his Lord seems to be in high spirits, a feat not seen since a century ago when wild glaze lilies were found blooming on the outskirts of Cloud Retainer’s abode.

It isn’t his place to ask questions, merely watch over as his dutiful shadow. Rex Lapis hums beneath his breath as he painstakingly brews a tea Xiao knows not the name of, the aroma of it lingering in the air and leaving a hint of vanilla and something else.

It seems, however, that he doesn’t need to voice out any questions or concerns after all. His Lord is all too happy to share what has been on his mind to have him in such a good mood.

“Has Ping told you of the child who once asked me to marry her?”

His head snaps up so quickly, had he not been an adeptus, he would have suffered vertigo, eyes wide at the audacity of someone daring to offer marriage at none other than the Geo Archon.

Said archon laughs at his reaction. “Cloud Retainer acted much the same as you did after young Ganyu told her of the event.” He offers Xiao a cup of tea, which he takes out of habit than any real desire to drink it. “Judging by your reaction, am I right to assume that Ping has not told you?”

Xiao stares into his murky brown tea to avoid Rex Lapis’ all-knowing eyes. “I have not been able to accept her offers to have tea in some time.”

A few decades, more like. He prepares himself for the soft admonition about taking opportunities such as having tea to rest from his duties, even for a little while.

Relief fills him when Rex Lapis merely tells him of the human girl he has been so amused with.

“It was a chaotic affair that happened about three years ago. I do believe Ping laughed heartily after she heard of it. I certainly haven’t been offered marriage in a long time,” he stares into his tea, something melancholic lingering in his eyes. “A long time…”

Xiao remains quiet, knowing not to disturb him in moments when he loses himself in past memories. Rex Lapis moves his gaze to him after a moment’s pause, the smile returning to his lips.

“You will like her, should you meet. A little eccentric, but she is a very kind and lively child, though I suppose she can hardly be called a child now.” He sips his tea, eyes closing in rumination. “Ah, how fast time flies...”

✧

His enemies were strong, stronger than the usual monsters that become afflicted with the old gods’ residues.

Covered in blood and viscera, the weight of his limbs and the exhaustion threatens to bring him to his knees. Xiao has never felt so weak in his life. The Lantern Rite is coming soon and the dead gods are more active and vicious. It is a difficult job, but a necessary burden he will have to carry alone.

He leans on his spear, relief coursing through him once the statue of his Lord comes into view.

The cool, smooth stone is a blessing to his feverish skin after he collapses upon the dais of the statue. He can feel the blood clinging to him like a second skin smearing on the stone. Even in his pitiful state, he still has enough sense to be apologetic for dirtying the statue.

He’ll wipe it down after an hour’s rest. He just needs to close his eyes, only for a moment. He’ll make sure to leave everything spotless so he doesn’t put more work into whoever cleans each statue.

Xiao wants to rest for a bit. He knows it’s not his place to want something, but a few minutes is all he needs.

Just… a few moments of peace.

…

Not even a second after he closes his eyes does the wind tell him of someone’s arrival. His eyes snap to the source of the sound, mouth parting to warn whoever it is to leave.

You beat him to it.

“Damn it! Do you know how hard it is to keep that statue clean?! Go bleed out somewhere else!”

He blinks, and only then does he notice the bucket in your hand and the broom on the other.

Oh.

It’s you.

Xiao doesn’t know what he expected of the person who has been keeping maintenance of his Lord’s statues for years, but it certainly wasn’t you—messy, unbrushed hair, rumpled clothes, and the unmistakable Morax bracelet he remembers from half a decade ago hanging from your wrist.

A mix of lethargy and confusion makes his mouth move before he can stop it.

“You’re young.”

✧

Something in you snaps when you hear those ironic words coming out of this weirdo’s mouth.

“Young? Young?” You drop the bucket and the broom you borrowed from Xiangling to the ground, pointing rudely at his face. “Speak for yourself! You look like you’re barely old enough to be out of school!”

Then, as an afterthought, you add, “And I just turned twenty about two weeks ago, which means I’m not a teen anymore! I bet you’re not even sixteen yet, shorty!”

Okay, that was an exaggeration. He at least looked about your age, but the height remains to be decided, seeing as he’s currently sitting and bleeding all over the statue you consider as one of the most important wonders of the world, second only to Rex Lapis himself. The pose, the mysterious hood, that very inviting lap, the way he’s shirtless—

Not the time to get lost in fantasies!

The stranger doesn’t say anything to rebuke your claims, only staggering to his feet with the support of that intimidating spear of his.

You watch him turn to the statue, swaying slightly.

“What are you…” you trail off, eyes wide at the sight in front of you.

Using the long piece of cloth at the sleeve of his arm, he holds it aloft and brings it to the base of the statue. One scrub isn’t enough to remove the blodstain, so he goes to wipe at it again. And again, and again, and again.

It isn’t clean. His actions only succeeded in smearing the blood all over the place. Like a child attempting to fix its mistake. It’s clear to you that this guy probably has no idea what he’s doing but…

You see the way he’s leaning on that spear for dear life, exhaustion lining his shoulders. There are scratches lining his arms and even a few on his face that you didn’t notice earlier.

All this, and yet he’s still scrubbing at that stain just because you mentioned how hard it was to keep it clean.

Oh.

Oh no.

Guilt hits you like a boar running straight towards the nearest sign of life.

“Hey…” you start, raising your hands and approaching him hesitantly. “There’s really no need to do that. I was just kidding, you know…”

He suddenly stops, letting his weight rest against the statue before leaning away and dropping his now blood covered sleeve. There’s a shallow intake of breath before he half turns to you.

“I shall take my leave then.”

A sort of black miasma starts forming around him as he turns away. He eases himself from his spear, preparing to leave.

Panicked and guilt-ridden, you take a moment to contemplate your choice of actions before promptly throwing rationality out the proverbial window—because when has being rational ever helped? (Chongyun would, of course, say that being rational is the solution to everything, but the day you willingly listen to his advice is the day he willingly eats Jueyun Chillies. Which is never.)

You proceed to throw the concept of stranger-danger and personal space into the abyss as you take a hasty step forward and grab ahold of his bloody arm to keep him from leaving.

“Wait!”

His head snaps to you, eyes wide and startled by the sudden contact and proximity.

You feel his muscles tense beneath your fingers (and wow, he has some really hard pecs). Your hand retracts itself as quickly as it latched onto his arm, plastering an awkward but reassuring smile on your lips. “Sorry, sorry! Didn’t mean to startle you!”

He frowns. “Do you need my assistance?”

You direct an incredulous look his way. “Assistance? You’re the last person who should be asking me that. In fact, I should be the one who’s asking that! You look like you’re about to fall over and die any second now!”

At your words, his grip on the spear visibly eases, shifting his body and attempting to look casual even though you know he probably feels like the abyss just swallowed then vomited him out. He looks at you in an attempt to be nonchalant, as if to say, see? I’m not about to keel over any time soon.

Does he think he’s fooling anyone when he’s clearly covered in blood from head to toe?

The tiny, evil, but trying to be helpful part of your brain tells you to just leave him be. More clients for the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor means more profit for Hu Tao means you can mooch off her when you’re out of money.

You physically slap yourself for even forming that thought.

Oh, what would Rex Lapis think of his future wife leaving a citizen of Liyue to die when you were perfectly capable of helping?

That’s it, your resolve hardens, you’re going to help this guy get back on his feet whether he likes it or not.

(And then Rex Lapis will see how benevolent you are and decide then and there that he will marry you. In fact, he’ll insist that he’ll plan the whole thing! Of course, you’re gonna say no because you’ve had your wedding planned out since you were seven years old, down to the type of flowers that will be used to the music being played and the guests! He’ll be so moved by your initiative that he’ll impulsively gift you a mansion that’s entirely made out of mora, saying how sorry he is that he put off answering your proposal for so many years, and then—)

The stranger is looking at you like you’ve grown two heads.

Oh. Right.

You place both hands on your hips and grin, ignoring the stinging of your cheek from when you slapped yourself earlier.

“Today is a very lucky day for you! I don’t usually do these kind of things, but I can’t just let someone go when they clearly need my help!” You move to grab his arm, only to retract your hand when you see him lean away from you. “Hey, now, I’m trying to help. Don’t be stubborn and come sit right, uhh, here!”

You point to the spot in the grass beside the statue, safe and, most importantly, will not put the statue at risk of getting more bloodstains.

He looks at you the same way your neighbor’s cat does whenever you bring it food. Completely unimpressed.

“Aw, c’mon! Don’t look at me like that, you’re hurting my feelings here. It’s not that bad, see?” To prove your point, you sit criss cross on the grass, patting the spot beside you in invitation.

There’s a moment’s pause where the two of you remain staring at each other in a convoluted form of a staring contest.

The winner is, of course, you.

He sighs like conceding to you is the most arduous thing he’s ever done. The spear disappears in a burst of constellations, something you’re all too happy to see gone—also a bit jealous because how did he do that. Maybe you can pester him about it after you’re done with filling in your daily quota of good deeds for the day.

He—and you just realized you still don’t know his name—sits down beside you slowly, in a way that reminds you of how the grandpas at Qingce village lower themselves to the ground to tell a story to the younger kids. Like their backs are gonna break with one wrong move. It’s probably not too far off the mark with this guy considering how beat up he looks.

He settles beside you with a barely hidden frown like he wants to be anywhere but here. Geez, talk about ungrateful. It’s not like you’re forcing him to be here or whatever—but, well, you kind of are forcing him to be here. But it’s not like he can sue you for making him stay without his consent, can he?

…You’ll ask Yanfei about it later.

“So,” you start, placing both elbows on your knees and leaning forward, “How are you feeling? Dizzy? In pain? Nauseous? If it’s the last one, you better tell me straight away ‘cause I won’t be cleaning anyone’s puke, injured or not.”

He continues to stare at you with those piercing eyes of his. A bit unsettling. They look like they’d glow in the dark like a cat’s.

And then, “You are a very peculiar human.”

“Huh?”

It takes you a few seconds of rapid blinking to realize that yes, he said it in a completely serious tone, and no, you didn’t mishear, he did call you human.

“Is that your way of saying I’m weird?” You scrunch your nose at his strange way of talking. “Also, don’t refer to me as human. That’s weird. You sound like that star-guy who hangs around Dihua Marsh pretending to be an adeptus.”

An affronted look crosses his face. “Fashioning himself as an adeptus? Tell me the name of this mortal and I shall teach him not to tarnish the name of Rex Lapis’ adepti.”

You sit there, stunned in the aftermath of his words. They keep repeating in your head like a mantra, playing on loop. But the one thing that sticks out to you is the forbidden R and L words that your friends have learned not to mention out of the blue unless they want to incite a rabid reaction from you.

But this guy, this guy sounds like he deserves to be in a nuthouse…

You grin.

He’s just like you!

Filled with excitement at the sudden revelation, you grab his arm with both hands tightly. The fact that he looks like he’s one step away from death is the only thing restraining you from rattling him in elation.

With a look that Hu Tao would have described as manic, you lean close and yell, “Are you an avid follower of Rex Lapis too?!”

He shifts to put a bit more space between you, but he’s not escaping your claws anytime soon. The moment he mentioned Rex Lapis, all hope for him was lost.

A frown is directed your way, but it doesn’t hinder you in the slightest.

“C’mon! It’s rare for me to find someone else as passionate about this as you! I have a radar for this, I know you’re a believer, and with those amulets that I’m pretty sure are real adepti stuff… tell me,” your eyes take on a serious glint, tone lowering to an almost whisper like what you’re about to say is of utmost importance, “Do you know what his favorite color is?”

(Xiao is baffled and confused. In all his years roaming Liyue’s lands, never has he encountered a mortal as strange and bizarre as you. Never mind one who’s able to stand within his presence and not feel even the slightest unease due to the weight of his karma.

Helpless as he is to your relentless advance and unwilling to use his strength to leave with the possibility of hurting you in the process, he can do nothing but sit and take it all without complaint. For once in his life, he hasn’t the faintest clue on what to do in this situation.

He hopes his Lord won’t take offense to him revealing something about him to this strange mortal. Though he reasons that Rex Lapis would hopefully not mind since you were the one who’s been cleaning the statues.)

“Blue.”

You suddenly reel back like you’ve been slapped, the grip you had on his arm loosening enough that he can escape should he wish it.

(Strangely enough, he finds that he doesn’t want to leave just yet.)

“Blue?” you repeat his answer, eyes dazed like the world has betrayed you and everything you’ve ever known has just been proven wrong. You turn back to him with betrayal. “You’re a fake.”

“…What?”

You fully release his arm from your hold and instead cross your arms, frowning at him in disappointment. “I said, you’re a fake. Everyone knows Rex Lapis’ favorite color is gold like mora!”

(Xiao has never felt such exasperation towards a human being in centuries.)

You watch as he furrows his brows, lips twitching downwards like he’s displeased. He even had the audacity to look at you like you’re in the wrong when it’s clear that it’s him who’s wrong!

“You…” He sighs and shakes his head. “Humans these days have no respect for the adepti.”

Oh, Rex Lapis…

You were wrong—only, you were wrong about him!

He wasn’t just a nutcase, he was so much worse than that! Even worse than you!

This guy is the clean cut definition of delusional.

(You deliberately ignore the fact that that is exactly how most people see you.)

You burst out laughing. “What the heck are you on about? You, an adeptus? I have more chances of becoming the Geo Archon than you being one of the adepti! Hah, you’re such a funny guy.”

Minutes pass.

He doesn’t join in on the laugh.

He remains sitting beside you, watching you with the most piercing and intimidating eyes you’ve ever seen.

Slowly, your laughter starts to die down.

Your eyes rake over him, lingering on that weird amulet he has, the vision on his arm, and the mark on his forehead which definitely does not look like a tattoo.

Was he actually being serious?

You blink dumbly. “Are you for real?”

He looks at you as if you’re the stupidest person in Teyvat.

And, okay, he does have reason to look at you like that. His clothes are very adepti-ish. Those little ornaments—aside from the amulet—must be adepti trinkets. Maybe. You’re not really sure since you’ve never seen one before. And, of course, can’t forget that weird mask by his hip. If you look at him and tilt your head thirty-five degrees to the left, he does kinda-sorta-maybe look like an adeptus.

Honestly though, you just thought he was a very enthusiastic adepti fan. You’ve met many of those weirdos through your time exploring Liyue, but none have ever had the guts to actually claim they were adepti. Except that one guy you mentioned earlier to him. You can’t really recall much because you left the moment he started doing some sort of strange dance ritual meant to banish the evils in your mind…

Like you said, weirdos.

But he doesn’t look like a lunatic. A little weird (like you), but he doesn’t look like he’s about to start dancing in circles and chant unintelligible words to cleanse your soul or some other nonesense. In fact, he looks like he might just strangle you if you so much as breathed a word of your previous thoughts to him.

You’ve heard that adepti usually think themselves better than humans, and while he hasn’t said anything explicitly bad about you (well, aside from calling you weird), he does look like he’s got a stick up his butt, even looking like death as he does right now.

Huh, maybe he is an adeptus.

It’s then that you notice the black sort of smoke that’s coming out of his open wounds. They’re near invisible due to the thinness of the scratches, but the sight of them are enough to have you rethinking your entire life’s decision.

“You are a most odd and vexing human.”

You huff, unwilling to take that lying down, adeptus or not. “Well, maybe you should’ve started off with saying you’re an adeptus. And I’ve been called worse things, you’re gonna have to do better than that.”

He doesn’t reply.

Whatever, two can play at that game. You resolve not to talk to him either unless he talks first.

…You last about a minute before your mouth decides to have a mind of itself.

“So,” you start, attempting to sound casual and totally not like you were laughing at him three minute ago for saying he was an adeptus and—spoiler alert!—him actually being one. “Blue, huh?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few moments that you’re almost convinced he’s never gonna talk to you again.

Just as you were on the verge of praying forgiveness to Rex Lapis for insulting one of his adepti, he speaks.

“Like glaze lilies.” There’s a faraway look in his eyes, an almost solemn air about him.

You, however, have no concept of social awareness.

“Then who the heck spread that information that Rex Lapis’ favorite color is gold?!”

He seems to collect himself, stepping away from the sort of trance he’d been in and crossing his arms. “Humans are prone to spreading disinformation and false narratives for their own gain. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

Well, you suppose you had that coming for you. Xingqiu did always say you were too gullible for your own good. The amount of times you got scammed in the markets was enough to have your wallet begging for you to stop shopping.

“That’s true, I guess… but glaze lilies? Really?” You’re still a bit skeptical on that one. Maybe if you were talking about Lady Ningguang’s favorite color and not Rex Lapis’, you would have easily believed him. But it’s hard to find a connection between Rex Lapis and glaze lilies.

“I have already revealed enough by telling you that. I won’t entertain anymore questions,” he delivers this in a no-nonsense tone.

So he’s one of those guys who won’t cave no matter how much you pester them.

“Alright fine.” You sulk for a bit before remembering your true agenda for inviting him to sit beside the grass with you. “Oh, Archons, I forgot! I was supposed to help you!”

Just as you finish saying that, he stands up like he’s done with the conversation, completely ignoring you. “I don’t require help. Being near the statue is enough to heal shallow wounds.”

“What?! It can do that?” You scramble to push yourself off the ground and follow him as he takes a step closer to the statue.

He nods. “There is a power within it that revitalizes any traveler who happens upon it.” He levels you with a look. “Your help, while in good faith, is not needed.”

You’re too preoccupied with touching the cool stone of the statue reverently to take much heed of his last sentence. “Woah, so that’s why I always feel great after cleaning them up!”

(Xiao startles at the casual admission, of revealing yourself as the person who’s behind the improvement of the statues’ state for the past decade.

It goes unnoticed by you.)

You turn to him with a smile. “So does this mean you’re all okay now?”

(There is fatigue lingering in him, weighing his limbs down in a way that makes it difficult to stand straight. He will not admit this to anyone.)

Relief fills you when you see him nod. Great! Now you don’t have to do much except clean the blood off the stone!

You set to work on picking up the bucket filled with water, lathering a sponge with soap, and proceeding to scrub away at the statue. Smugly, you note how you’re doing a much better job at cleaning it than your new adeptus friend did earlier.

…Not that it’s much of a feat since it was clear he had no idea what he was doing, but details!

You feel his eyes on your back, watching you work your magic on the stone surface of the statue. Talk about creepy, can’t he start a conversation or something?

Fine, guess you’ll have to do everything by yourself.

“Since we’re best buddies now, what’s your name?” You then introduce yourself, not including the little detail of being Rex Lapis’ future wife. That can come later.

“Xiao.”

“Xiao, huh? I know at least three other people with the name Xiao. What’s yours spelled with?”

He sighs but still tells you what line strokes are used to write his name and the meaning behind it.

You laugh and say whoever thought up his name must have been a real nerd.

He vehemently corrects you and says how wrong you are in a very grumpy tone.

Thus, marks the beginning of a wonderful friendship (at least, in your eyes it is).

✧

Xiao hasn’t felt such ease when speaking to another person who isn’t his Lord.

You aren’t without fault. Much too loud, too trusting, too judgmental, too crass, too impulsive, too reckless. You possess every trait he would have disliked in any other person—and yet.

You also laugh a lot, and smile a lot, and joke and banter and are unafraid to tell him how wrong he is straight to his face as you defended what you believed was the truth even though he knows it’s not even close to the truth. He should be admonishing you for treating him in such a way, but he doesn’t.

You grin at him and proudly show him the now sparkling clean statue.

You’re… not intolerable, he supposes.

“Have I told you, Xiao, how I just know that next year is the year Rex Lapis finally accepts my marriage proposal?!”

He stops, blinking to process your words, still not quite believing what he heard.

And then he remembers a meeting over tea a year ago and Rex Lapis’ amusement and what he had to say about the girl who once proposed to him during the Rite of Descension.

A very kind and lively child.

Xiao thinks, as he looks at you gagging because you accidentally splashed dirty bucket water into your mouth, that Rex Lapis’ judgment might have been inaccurate on this one.

He remembers the scent of tea in the air and warm golden eyes gazing at him and wondering for all but a second if this is what a father’s gaze might look like.

You will like her, should you meet.

…It remains to be seen.

the adepti’s guide on how to not catch feelings for the strange mortal who has a massive crush on your pseudo-dad

step two: should step one fail, do not entertain the mortal’s delusions. i repeat, do not entertain its delusions.

series masterlist

previous step

word count: 5.7k

note: as promised here is chapter two posted before 3.1 drops! if you want an irl basis on how weird the reader truly is, just imagine someone saying they’re in love with jesus. also someone stop me i just had a realization about how great it would be if i made a scara fic with this premise. the harbinger’s guide on how to not catch feelings for the weirdo who’s in love with your mom. helpppp

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #xiao series #fem reader #the adepti's guide

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froot-batty · 6 months

Text

Part 3

Remember how I said Alexis eventually quits being Punchline? This is how it happens!

Her wanting to quit is a buildup of a lot of thoughts and feelings over a long amount of time. She's treated terribly by the Joker and Harley Quinn, has been thrown in Arkham countless times, and the only people who are nice to her are either still more loyal to her mother or is the person throwing her in Arkham

One night, when Joker, Harley, and Punch were all rigging a toy factory with explosives, J&H made the decision to set off the bombs early without informing Punchline. As such, they were far closer to the exit than she was when they went off. Alex was hit by a stray fragment of a wooden beam during the blast, and by the time she was able to force herself to her feet, the fire caused by the explosion was raging around her

The only thing she could see through the flames was the dark shape of the Batman

But, instead of whisking her off to Arkham like she'd expected, he offered to take her somewhere safe and secure where she could recover. Where she could think of her path forward. After being left to die, it wasn't fair for her to be left to rot in Arkham again

So Batman took her to the Batcave. He has a secure medical bay with no access to the rest of the cave (unless you know the way in), so she could be left there to hide out while she grappled with her Punchline identity (and with the hole in her stomach)

Because Alexis didn't want to be Punchline anymore. In fact, she hated her mother and Harley Quinn, and wanted nothing in the world more than to kill them like they'd tried to do to her. But she had no idea who she was if she wasn't in her mother's shadow, doing what the Joker wanted when she wanted it. She had no idea what to do with all of her anger

Bruce, luckily, is very well-versed into dealing with that. And since Alexis already had the experience of being a supervillain, he had little qualms with redirecting her anger and desire for justice into vigilantism. If it kept her from going out and killing people, and helped him out in the process, then no harm done, right?

...Except it didn't work out. Though they had no problem training and even getting closer with one another (enough so that Batman would eventually reveal his identity), Alexis had enough of living in someone else's shadow; being what they wanted her to be. And she didn't want to be a hero. She had her own idea of dealing with crime - or even people that just needed to die

Alexis would eventually settle into a life of doing jobs for money, cause a girl's still got to be paid. She tends to only take ones that directly harm established criminals or terrible people in general (abusers, CEOs, and the like), but on occasion, when it suits her, she'll help Bruce out or go and capture one of the Rogues herself

And she does it all smugly calling herself the Red Hood, her mother's old moniker, from the beginning of her criminal career

#surpriiiissse shawwwtyy #also! for timeline reference cause i know i started this one after spoiler's! punchline becomes red hood before spoiler is ever a thing #frootverse #alexis kaye #the red hood #bruce wayne #batman #batfamily #my art

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bestjeanistmonster · 8 months

Note

How did Nicky's Sonic's friends react to him being alive and becoming a criminal?

Well uhhhhh safe to say not well

Amy and Tails don't even know who this ‘Harley Quill’ guy even is at first, Sonic did look quite different from Nicky (different quill style, being cobalt blue instead of light blue, having green eyes instead of brown eyes, his muzzle, chest and arm fur being pale instead of tan) but he does seem very vaguely familiar, but they pretty much brush it off cuz they were fairly certain that they didn’t know anyone that’s as batshit insane as he is.

To them he was just Eggman’s new lackey, an extremely dangerous one that’s as fast and unpredictable as the wind itself, the big ass hammer he had with him didn’t make him any easier, and he was irritating as hell. Safe to say the guy was a problem, a problem they needed to solve cuz if they didn’t take him down they won’t have a chance at stopping Eggman, the only reason they could even find as to why this guy was even working for Eggy was out of pure respect and devotion to him and everything he stood for, looking up to him as a mentor figure. So at least they had that answer.

Literally a week since Harley Quill’s debut as Eggman’s new sidekick and Gotham is in complete and utter chaos so they needed to figure something out fast but all throughout Amy and Tails can’t shake that sense of deja vu they feel sometimes when they fighting and bantering with this punk

Then at some point Amy gets kidnapped after Sonic gets the drop on her with his hammer knocking her out and taking her back to the hideout as a hostage but Knuckles manages to find a blue quill he accidentally left behind so they head back to the batcave to scan it and triangulate eggman’s location. They know Eggman's gonna wait to do some sort of attention drawing showstopper to kill Amy off but he won't do anything till Knuckles gets there so it fortunately gives Knuckles the time to run a dna scan

Meanwhile Amy is chained up on a giant dart board (for fun mostly) where she receives a formal introduction to Harley Quill, informing her that his name is ‘Sonic’ and now that he’s not currently trying to kill her she actually manages to get a better look at him in proper lighting with his hood down. He looked very familiar, he sounded very familiar, the way he spoke, his little quirks like the way he rubbed his nose was familiar but who-

The dna test finishes at the same time as it clicks in Amy's head

Then all three vigilantes are filled with shock and absolute horror

“…Nicky?”

They couldn’t believe it, it couldn’t be true, this ‘Sonic’ person couldn’t be Nicky, he was nothing like the Nicky they once knew, the Nicky they knew would never have done the things Sonic had done, the Nicky they knew was dead, it just couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be! …but it was, it was him… he was here, he was alive

They were pretty much in shock, how was he alive? Why was he willingly working with Eggman? What did Eggman do to him to make him like this?

How could they have left him? He was alive this whole time and they couldn’t find him

Knuckles was feeling high-key guilty cuz he had given up on finding him too, thinking that Eggman had killed him but Tails and Amy hadn’t, and now their best friend was a turned into a monster because he didn’t listen to them

They're gonna struggle to fight him for a bit, it was Nicky, he's their friend, Tails's brother, how could they hurt him?

However ‘Nicky’ clearly had no qualms about hurting them

"C'mon, where's that fighting spirit i saw earlier? Run outta steam?"

However when they try to talk him down and reason with him, tell him they know who he is and try to get him to stand down, call him ‘Nicky’ he straight up laughs in their faces cuz he wasn’t Nicky anymore, Nicky was a weak loser who could barely stand up for himself, and now thanks to Eggman he wasn’t that anymore, he even ends up thanking Knuckles for not finding him sooner which rlly fucked him up

Essentially it was a clusterfuck of a situation and Amy and Tails were devastated. But they couldn’t deny the hope that they had that they could eventually get Nicky back, bring him over to the good side with the power of friendship and leave behind this ‘sonic’ persona and just come home, even though down the line Tails’s outlook on the situation would sour and become more bitter cuz he thinks that Nicky just abandoned him for a fucking clown of all things

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonadow harlivy au #jeanist answers

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plzu · 10 months

Text

crushed croissant - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part seven← ☕️ series masterlist ☕️ ao3

a/n: getting to explore the difference in headspace of both adrian and reader in one chapter is soooo much fun summary: Vigilante is too busy with the Task Force to visit you at work. But when he finally does, he tells you everything he's been up to. You're not sure you like his stories very much. warnings: mentions of canon-accurate violence, the word "rapey" is used once, cheating in a broad/general sense (as in it might not be considered cheating to some, but would be to others), no y/n wordcount: 5.2k

Something in the air at home has definitely shifted. You've been waiting for your mother to snap. To blow up. Surely the fuse of her anger is due to erupt, explode in a fury where she hurls insults at you. It's long overdue, anyway.

But when you see your father sitting in the living room, or at the kitchen table, head hung in despair over a glass of whiskey, you get the sense your mother hasn't been home much.

Your dad has barely spared you a second glance since the day he yelled at you. Like all the fight has left his body, like he can't bring himself to care after your mother's own blasé comments that morning.

Maybe this -- plus your mother's seemingly sudden absence from home -- should be concerning. But there's this tentative fluttering hope in your chest over the tiniest taste of this newfound freedom that you haven't had since moving back to Evergreen. Like you can finally roam around your parent's house without trying to avoid them.

You still err on the side of caution, of course. But still. Being able to venture into the kitchen for a cup of coffee in the mornings without the heart rate of someone being hunted for sport has been a nice, welcome change of pace.

Maybe actual licensed therapists would disagree, but Adrian found blowing shit up in the woods with his BFF pretty therapeutic. Especially after said BFF has been in prison for several years with zero means of communication from the outside world.

Something about the morass underfoot, wet dead leaves sticking to the soles of his boots. That same soft earth cushioning his fall as he flung himself away from exploding dynamites (chucked by Peacemaker, aimed directly at him! Classic). Shooting various holes into appliances and shattering the glass of old blenders and coffee carafes, a riot and a comfort, the raucous laughter of two grown men being drowned out by explosions and swallowed up by the canopy of the tall trees.

It gave Adrian an adrenaline rush, the kind he can only feel as Vigilante. It reassured him that his place in Peacemaker's life was not being threatened. There's still space for him, this easy camaraderie. They still make a badass team.

A badass team that still brings chicks back to Chris’ trailer that they can share, apparently.

Adrian has never taken issue with bedding babes with Chris.

He's always careful to keep the Vigilante mask on, makes sure everyone involved knows not to even think about trying to touch his face. Getting his dick touched now and then offered a sweet relief, even if the main reason he was even hard to begin with was because Christopher Smith was involved.

Mostly, though, Adrian just appreciated whatever bonding time he could get in with Peacemaker. It was one of those things that, in the beginning, was something he agreed to in order to grow closer with the man he’s looked up to since he was a kid, and show him that Vigilante is a real bro’s bro deserving of his respect. Earn his spot as the cool, kickass partner Peacemaker deserved. Well, besides Eagly, of course.

(And getting to show off how far he's come since his 'Thimble' days, even if Chris doesn't know it's Adrian under the mask, was a nice bonus, too.)

And so while Vigilante should have no qualms with sharing some brunette that Chris invited back to his trailer (which, like, totally understandable after being locked up for so long), it is Adrian that hesitates.

“I don't know if I can do this, man.”

Chris snorts as the uncertainty in his voice. “What, did you get a girlfriend or something while I was gone?” He smirks as if such a suggestion could only be a joke.

Vigilante looks at him. Hasn’t Chris read his texts since being back? Or listened during their special bonding time blowing shit up in the woods? “Dude, I told you! There’s the barista I've been seeing.”

“What? So? Did you guys have the talk?”

“Dude,” he giggles. “We both know where babies come from.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “Not that talk, dipshit. Did you two establish a relationship? A monogamous one?”

Adrian thinks about the quiet way you called him your best friend. He also thinks about the way you've only ever touched each other with clothes on.

The way none of this establishes any sort of relationship beyond friends with benefits. Even if those benefits just leave him stiff in his jeans.

“I... guess not,” he answers Chris, a little unsure.

“Then you can still bone whoever you want, dude,” says Chris, the near-constant impatience clear in his tone.

“I'm not gonna force you, obviously, because that would be fucked up and rapey,” he continues, straight-faced, throwing his hands up defensively. “But there is a hot, underappreciated woman waiting for us to show her the best railing she's probably had in months. Honestly, maybe even years. That Evan guy doesn’t seem to realize how good he has it. So I'm heading inside to deliver multiple, mind-blowing orgasms, and you're free to join. Or not!”

Chris disappears inside his trailer, and Adrian is left outside with Eagly, who just stares up at him with its round, yellow eyes.

“What do you think I should do, Eagly?”

The large bird says nothing. Just cocks its white feathered head before tottering off the porch and flying away.

Adrian sighs.

There was this slightly turbulent, uncomfortable feeling at the idea that sleeping with someone would somehow be a betrayal to you. But Chris' words eases some of that worry, once again enlightening Adrian in only the way Christopher Smith can. You and Adrian have not established any sort of relationship beyond the PG-13 makeout sessions and hanging out at bars and fast food joints. And Adrian is no stranger to hooking up with people in a no-strings attached kind of way. Moreso as Vigilante with Peacemaker, sure, but Adrian has had his fair share of one-night stands purely for the occasional sexual relief.

As special as spending time with you is, way more special than any past random hook-ups Adrian’s had, he has to remember that you two are just friends.

And so, with a clear conscience, he steps into Chris’ trailer.

Going days without seeing Adrian's bare, open face is making you feel... withdrawal symptoms. Dramatic? Maybe. But the firecracker pops of color he usually brings with him has been scant, making the dreary monochrome of Evergreen bleed back into the cafe. It turns you slump-shouldered and sullen.

“Hey.”

Emerging from the bitter clouds of your thoughts and into the mundane early evening of the cafe, you blink back to reality and watch Ashe's concerned face come into focus.

“Is everything okay?” Their tone carries the worried weight of someone approaching a wild, wounded animal.

Are you wounded?

Well.

It feels like there hasn’t been anytime for you anymore, now that this Peacemaker guy is back. And it hurts, admittedly. Which is stupid, and you feel bad about it because of course Adrian is going to want to catch up with an old friend that he hasn’t seen in years. So the pain of your guilt over your selfish feelings hurts, too.

But you haven't had the chance to feel the warmth of his touch since the night that changed everything, and it’s startling to realize how much you’ve come to rely on it for your sanity. The longer you go without the feel of his heat pressed against you, the colder the days seem to leave you.

Realizing you haven't responded to Ashe yet, you force out a non-commital grunt and continue stocking and reorganizing the pastries for tomorrow.

This, for whatever reason, does not convince Ashe that everything is, in fact, okay. Their voice lowers into that of delicate understanding.

“Did you and Adrian... break up?” They grimace, seemingly afraid of the answer. “He hasn't stopped by lately.”

True. Adrian hasn’t been by to visit during the day. No more quick hellos before his shift at Fennel Fields starts. Just late night visits from Vigilante instead, before he runs off to his other best friend.

Your head snaps to face Ashe again. “We're not-” you start, but then clamp your jaw shut. An insecure clack of your teeth. You look away, avoiding their gaze. “It’s not like that with Adrian.”

“Sure,” they say, but in a tone that very clearly implies they're just entertaining you.

“Why do you even ask?” There’s more bite to the question than you intended, but Adrian as a topic right now is extracting some venom you didn't think Ashe would ever be on the receiving end of.

But Ashe doesn't seem perturbed in the slightest. Probably because they were the most patient and understanding person you've ever met, something you constantly marvel at considering their young age.

“Well,” they delicately--but persistently--tug at the corner of the packaged pastry currently suffocating in your fist. Your fingers unfurl to reveal crinkled plastic encasing a crushed croissant. “It just seems like you're back to the way you were before Adrian started coming around.”

You frown as Ashe tears open the plastic. The baked, buttery scent of bread infiltrates your nostrils. “How was I?” you mumble, voice notably softer. “Before Adrian, I mean.”

“Mm,” Ashe tears off a piece of the flaky croissant and pops it into their mouth. “Miserable. Grumpy.”

“You’re not supposed to eat that.”

“Not like we can sell it to a customer after your death grip.” They pull another piece into their mouth. Their dark eyes shine with kindness and curiosity, unphased by your halfhearted attempt at playing the stern manager.

Ashe is right, though. You were miserable and grumpy. Honestly, it's hard to remember anything about who you were as a person before Adrian reappeared in your life. When you try to seriously think back, it's nothing but bleak, mundane memories.

Truthfully, you had just been a shell of a person.

The excitement of successfully landing a manager position at the cafe had worn off fairly quickly once the stress of customers wore you down. Sure, it wasn't as bad here as it was when you'd worked at a drive-thru Starbucks location back in college. But the cafe was still fairly new enough to garner the attention of coffee aficionados and people that were just bored with all the things in town that they already knew about.

And there was nothing to alleviate the stress of customer service, not when the home you'd go back to every night was another huge source of anxiety.

You tried to numb yourself to it all, you realize. A defense mechanism. It can't hurt if you didn't let it, so you hollowed yourself out.

But then Adrian recognized you. He could have just come in that one day, gotten that large iced Americano and left forever (no way he would have come back to the less-than-stellar customer service you were doling out). But he said your name and remembered who you were and as terrifying as that should have been, you entertained his recognition.

Because it was him. Adrian Chase. No one of consequence, at the time. Who could the weirdo from high school possibly blab to about your being back in town? And, also, he was kind of silly in a weird, delightful way that you couldn’t help but want to play around with.

Besides, there was a certain way he looked at you that was intriguing, and would very quickly become chest-achingly addicting.

After handling a few customers, Ashe pipes up again. “Y'know, if Matty hears you aren't together, he's gonna try shooting his shot with Adrian.”

This only makes you snort. “Please. Matty wouldn't stand a chance.”

You catch the raised eyebrows on Ashe's face and immediately clarify, “he wouldn't stand a chance against Adrian's best friend that's back in town.”

Ashe pauses before their expression alights in understanding. “So that's why you've been so moody.”

“What?”

“You're jealous!”

“What? No. Me? Jealous of who?”

“The best friend you just mentioned,” they laugh. “C'mon, admit it.”

Admit to being jealous of the guy Adrian all but gushed to you about? Enthusiasm punctuating each giddy sentence. The way he practically bounced on the balls of his feet the other night, excited to meet up with him.

Pfft. Naw.

“You're worried he's replacing you.”

Oh. Right. Maybe you are jealous.

Because Ashe's words made you realize that Peacemaker isn't replacing you. You were the one replacing Peacemaker. You've just been a stand-in this entire time, keeping Adrian distracted and entertained while his buddy was locked up or whatever. You see that now.

That hollow feeling returns in the pit of your gut.

Adrian gets half his fucking pinky toe sawed off and his testicles electrocuted in one spectacularly fucked up night. And as if that wasn't bad enough, his secret identity gets revealed to both Peacemaker, and the ENEMY. Which turns out to be some kind of weird, fucked up space pigeon? Whatever.

At this point, he's pissed off at Chris for allowing him to get tortured in the first place. He could have at least tried to stall Adrian getting his balls burnt to a crisp by giving just a little info, maybe? Just a tidbit of information to potentially delay Adrian getting his most important toe being severed, probably?

Whatever valuable lesson was meant to be taught by this doesn't really go appreciated, not when the pain is still fresh in his junk and right foot. Not when his ego is bruised both from getting his butt fully kicked by the tiny green karate man, AND his identity revealed.

TWICE.

In a single month.

He's irritated. Cranky. No one is taking his concerns over his pinky toe seriously, which is frustrating.

To distract himself from the pain and anger, he thinks about you.

It's not even really intentional. Your smile just kind of emerges amidst the muddled annoyance of his thoughts, and it suddenly dulls all the aches. He remembers the sound of your laughter and something warm glows in his chest.

Adrian would very much like to see you. It's been days since the both of you have properly talked, let alone spend real solid time with each other.

But he cannot. He has a duty to Peacemaker that he has to prioritize, and it seems like this new team Chris is with needs him. And, well, it feels nice to be needed.

He cannot see you. So he spends half the car ride to Chris’ dad’s house telling him everything about you instead.

He can almost forget that half his pinky toe is falling off.

Adrian hasn’t responded to any of your texts. You just want to talk to someone about how weird it’s been at home. Well, not someone. Adrian. Just Adrian.

You hope he’s safe.

He could at least call you.

Why hasn’t he called you?

Adrian sits in a prison cell accompanied by nothing but the ugly feeling of shame. He thinks he may have messed up. Potentially made things worse for Chris by failing in killing his terrible, racist father.

And to top it all off, he's agitated his injured foot doing a (pretty sick) spin kick. Instinct had beat self-preservation in that moment.

Once again, the only thing that eases some of the pain are thoughts of you. Out of habit, he glances to the right, looking for the plastic cup filled on his nightstand with all the physical proof that he'd spent time with you. But all that's there are the bleak and dirty yellow walls of his cell.

The frown that's been sitting on his face since being brought back to his cell deepens.

Whatever, it's fine. He doesn't need it to remember what your kisses feel like. The warm press of your mouth against his is definitely embedded into the grooves and ridges of his brain. The taste of you -- bitter coffee, sweetened at the edges. The little sounds you make when he squeezes your waist, or buries his face into the warm space of your neck.

Time in the cell passes by quickly after that. He's rocking a semi by the time they let him out.

You stop by Fennel Fields one day during your lunch break, hoping to surprise Adrian. But he isn’t there. You ask the young hostess at the front if he’s working at all today. She just kind of shrugs impassively, boredly twirling a strand of hair on her finger as she tells you that he was a ‘no call, no show,’ which means he was definitely supposed to work tonight.

Her indifference pisses you off. Doesn’t she know that Adrian could be dead in a ditch somewhere? Doesn’t she care?

You leave before you can blow up at this Chloe chick (per the name on her apron). Adrian is, of course, just some guy to her. Only you have the pleasure (and the burden) of knowing that he’s so much more.

Vigilante gets bodily thrown around by a gorilla. And while it's cool that he gets to add 'fought a gorilla and lived' to his list of badassery, it would have been even cooler if he was the one that got to land the finishing blow with a chainsaw.

The chainsaw was his idea, too! So it just kind of feels like Economos stole his thunder, which wasn't very fair.

Venting to Chris doesn't provide as much comfort as he'd like. And while this new team seemed cool, there's no way any of them were capable of making him feel better. Not the way you can.

Thinking about you wasn't going to cut it after this one. Texting wasn't an option if it meant he couldn't hear your voice, and a phone call wouldn't give him the satisfaction of your smile. So Adrian will go and physically see you.

The burst of excitement in his rib cage is nearly suffocating. But, like, in a good way.

Really good.

Your thumbnail endures the worried gnawing of your teeth as you stare at Adrian’s contact information in your phone, wondering if you should call him. You want to see him. You had made the very resolute decision to keep him around, and now you’re realizing you may have to work a little harder in order to do so.

You’re alone in the cafe, after hours. Ashe has been spending the rest of their shifts trying to cheer you up, but to no avail. They felt a little guilty, thinking that they had some part in bringing you down after they made the whole ‘jealousy’ comment. There was an extra layer of glumness in your distant expression for the rest of that night and several nights to come that they felt responsible for. So they would insist on staying even after the shop closed, stick around as you finish up your managerial duties.

As nice as the company would have been, Ashe's presence would potentially stop Adrian-slash-Vigilante from popping in, so you did your best every night to reassure the barista that you're fine. It was only the slightly desperate tone in your voice that would convince them to leave each time.

So, like every other night, Ashe leaves. You lock the doors. You mechanically carry out your closing tasks until all that is left to do is turn off the lights and go. But Adrian, like every other night, still hasn’t shown.

Before the Vigilante reveal, you two would just text each other when you were planning on stopping by the other's place of work. But now, not only has he been unable to confirm whether or not he’ll be able to stop by, knowing that he spends his nights doing dangerous things makes you think twice about contacting him. What if he’s trying to be stealthy and you call him out of the blue, the ringtone alerting armed gunmen to his presence? And then he gets hurt, or caught, or worse, because of you?

“Ugh, this is ridiculous!” you bemoan into the empty cafe. “How much crime could there even be in Evergreen-”

You cut yourself off, remembering the night after the club and shudder, the hands that make your skin crawl when you think about them, the ugly scab on your knee.

A sudden, very specific knock from the front of the store has you yelping, phone flying out of your hand. It clatters somewhere behind you, but you’re not paying any attention to that when Vigilante is standing outside.

Before you know it, you're unlocking the door to the cafe. Vigilante walks in, careful to close and lock the glass door behind him, muttering something about the cold and you getting sick. You don't really pay the comments much mind — once he turns back around, you use both hands to tug him towards you by the straps (harness?) on his chest.

The action nearly unsteadies you both, him lurching from the unexpected suddenness of the movement, a soft 'whoa-'as his gloved hands instinctively land on your waist to brace himself.

“What was that for?”

The slight whine in his voice makes you grin. It's comforting. It's Adrian. Feeling him pressed up against you subdues some of the worry of losing him, of not seeing him the past several days, even with the hard discomfort of his chest piece against your breast. Even though it's rough, even though it smells like gunmetal and recklessness, the closeness is a momentary salve for your insecurities.

Instead of telling him this, or even something as simple and true as 'I miss you,' you search his eyes behind the red visor (incredibly glad you can see them at all). “Can you see me okay?”

“Huh? Of course I can.”

“But you're not wearing your glasses.”

“Oh! The visor is prescription.” You can tell that he's smiling, can hear the pride in his voice.

“Really? That's pretty cool.”

“Right? I think so, too.” His eyes squint, smile growing wider, and it makes a flurry of butterflies erupt in your gut.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur, and you’re impressed that you manage to keep the desperation from your voice despite the way your heart hammers in your chest. You don’t want Adrian to know how bad you want him, you don’t want to scare him away.

He stiffens at your admission, however, and starts stammering. “I- we can’t- cameras, remember? My mask-”

“No cameras in the restroom.” You nod your head in the general direction of the cafe’s restroom, somewhere behind you and to the left.

Adrian glances towards where you gesture, not just with his eyes - his whole helmet tilts with the action, and you’re realizing there's something kind of endearing about the mask. It’s not as intimidating as the first time, or your nightmares. It accentuates his movements in a way you’re coming to find kind of… well, cute.

But he starts to extricate himself from your grasp, shaking his head. “I really- we shouldn’t.”

Before the rejection could register as painful, you press on, body following his as he pulls away from you. “Well, I’m done for the night. Slow day today.” (You say this like you didn’t take your sweet time counting the tills). “We can just go, get in one of our cars-”

Adrian groans. He gathers your wrists in his hands, the texture of his gloves rough and scratchy as he pulls your hands off of his chest.

“Dude,” you giggle, “am I bothering you, or something?”

“Yes!”

You blink, startled, at his outburst. The way his head swivels back to look you in the face, enunciating his exclamation. The smile slips from your face as the rejection finally sets in, and you yank your hands away from Adrian like his touch suddenly scalds.

This is it. He's finally sick of you. Or bored of you. The way you've latched onto him is finally wearing him down, and maybe he had some kind of guy talk with Peacemaker that's making him dump your ass, made him realize how pathetic you actually are-

“Are those tears? Why are you crying!?”

“Because you just called me annoying!” You hadn't even realized that tears had welled up.

“What!? No, I didn't!”

“Yes you did! You said I'm bothering you! That means I'm annoying!” You angrily wipe at your eyes. Your hurt morphed into anger due to embarrassment over your own stupid tears.

You're sick of crying in front of Adrian, he shouldn't get to see how weak and broken you really are.

“You're not annoying!” Adrian says, body taking on an exasperated, pleading stance as his arms stretch slightly out to his sides, palms facing out, as if to make up for the fact that you can't see his face. “I just meant that in the moment, you were a little overwhelming.”

You pout. It doesn't exactly make you feel any better.

“I don't know why,” he continues, “but you're really hard to say no to. And I just, I don't know, was looking forward to talking with you tonight. And if you kiss me, I’ll kiss you back and won’t have time to catch you up on everything.”

Your eyes widen and your heart skips a few funny beats. You're hard to say no to? Oh, that flusters you, makes you feel more special than you deserve and you smile, slow and shy and delicate as your cheeks warm, and Adrian's shoulders noticeably relax at the change in expression.

“Why can't we do both?” you ask, coyness laced in your voice.

“I don't think you realize how big of a distraction you are.”

This makes you full on grin. “Is that why you've been avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” he repeats, like it hasn't even crossed his mind. “I haven't been avoiding you, I've just been really busy with this new team-”

“New team?” you interrupt, eyebrows furrowing. He only ever mentioned Peacemaker.

“Yeah! See, Peacemaker didn't actually complete his full prison sentence- oh, yeah,” he chuckles, “by the way, I was actually locked up the other day, too. But not because I got caught! It was a deliberate choice. Anyway-”

Your mouth hangs open as Adrian continues to regale you of how his past week has been, and the group of people he's been helping out that call themselves 'Task Force X' or something. You barely notice the way he gently ushers you to a nearby table, carefully pulling out a chair for you to sit as he recounts the details of each mission (and a side quest? If you can call getting yourself purposefully arrested a side quest.)

He fought a gorilla. But it wasn't a normal gorilla, it was a super gorilla. You thought the 'super' part was a bit excessive. A regular gorilla could have easily wrecked everyone's shit, given that this group is all human.

(“Everyone on this team is human, right? No superpowers?”)

(“I think so, yeah.”)

He whines to you a bit about how some guy named Economos took down the gorilla with a chainsaw.

(“It was cool, but it just would have been cooler had I been the one to do it.”)

(You nod, very serious. “Oh, for sure.”)

He tells you about how he tried to kill Auggie Smith, the racist, retired villain that just so happens to be Peacemaker's father. This information gives you whiplash, but Adrian hardly gives you any time to process it as he moves onto the next thing.

The next thing being the torture he went through in a US Senetor's secret dungeon (what the fuck), where he endured getting his junk electrocuted and a pinky toe severed almost entirely off by said senator.

The senator also happened to be an alien? And he's dead now?

The senator. Not the alien. Peacemaker kept the alien (but don't tell anyone).

By the time he's done, you understand why there was no time for making out. This was a lot to unpack.

“So... how've you been?”

You stare at him. “What do you mean how have I been? Who even cares? Whatever I've been going through pales in comparison to the shit you've been through.”

Adrian tries to interrupt, but you don't let him. “No! Nuh-uh, my life is peachy. I still have all my toes. I haven't had any part of my body electrocuted. I didn't tussle with a fucking. Gorilla.”

There's a second where you just stare at each other before Adrian breaks eye contact first, helmeted head falling forward. “Yeah, true.”

“Adr- Vigilante,” you catch yourself. “Are you sure you should be doing this? It kind of sounds like Peacemaker came with baggage.” You think about your own baggage, grimace, then correct yourself. “Dangerous baggage, I mean. I don't like that you're getting hurt because of him.”

Adrian's head whips up at your words, eyes wide. “No no no, it's fine, it's cool! They need me!”

He says this all too chipper.

“Besides, it's not all bad! There's fun stuff, too! We blew some stuff up in the woods-”

You roll your eyes. “That's still dangerous.”

“And there was the threesome-”

Threesome? He's still talking, probably, you can't really tell. It just gets muted out by the wretched feeling that's suddenly tearing apart your heart and making it difficult to breathe.

“Wh- what threesome..?” The question rattles out of you, shaken and quiet.

“Huh?”

You look at him, unblinking, and ask again. “What threesome? When did- when did you have...?”

“Oh, with Chris and this 'underappreciated' chick he brought back to his trailer. It was just like old times,“ he cheerily proceeds, completely unaware of the mood shift.

How could you have been so stupid? Of course no grown man with an active libido was going to remain perfectly content with just making out in his car. Adrian probably got sick of you stringing him along (which, you weren't, not really but where else were you gonna have sex? Your parent's house was out of the question, and he wouldn't offer his place.)

Wait, why didn't he bring you back to his place? He lied about having a roommate, you know this now though he still hasn't admitted it.

You abruptly stand up. The chair scrapes harshly against the tiles before keeling over.

Adrian flinches at the sound, and immediately stands up with you. “Whoa, hey, are you-”

“Get out.”

“Are you mad? Is it- is it the threesome? Because we aren't even together, technically, so you shouldn't-”

This fractures your heart even further.

“I said get out,” you sob, no longer able to look at him.

“W-wait,” he falters, very visibly out of his element. “You aren't supposed to be mad. Chris said-”

“Please,” you whisper, and it is such a small, pathetic sound, full of hurt despite its quietness. You hide your face behind shaky hands, feeling untethered and lost and indescribable pain.

A long moment of silence expands the distance between you both, until, finally (because you are very hard to say no to) you hear Adrian's footsteps walk away, and out the front door of the cafe.

taglist: @whatevermonkey @hiddlebatchedloki @nobodys-baby-now @navs-bhat @afraidofshrimp @training4theapocalypse @abbaenthusiast @jediviolet @t0byisher3 @madhyanas

[ if you would like to be removed from the taglist, pls let me know! it wouldn't hurt my feelings, i 100% understand if you come to find it annoying or just not currently interested in the fandom. likewise, if you want to be added, i'd appreciate a reblog and/or comment/feedback ]

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader #writing #fanfic #mine #peacemaker fic

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felidacy · 1 year

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Rogue system knowledge & Tim and Jason

@head-in-the-clouds27 regarding your question about if Talia will know about the Rogue system for Tim and if this change in Tim would also make the dynamic with Jason different got me thinking. So here is what I thought about.

Rogue System & The League

Tim is a natural snoop that makes unreasonable amounts of contingency plans as he goes, which is why he weasels himself into Barbara Gordon’s heart through lighthearted trash talk about Bruce & Dick and thirst for knowledge in order to learn more about computer science from day one. (Tim is not arrogant enough to think he could achieve the same level of greatness through the lack of a teacher.) As such, Tim learns about the League when he wasn’t supposed to know (really dumb of Bruce when Tim could be at risk, did he learn nothing?) when he snoops through the Batcomputer and decides then and there that attracting the interest from them is far too dangerous.

Paired with the newly attained hacker knowledge and having no qualms about using questionable methods like gaslighting and blackmail, Tim uses that to control a large part of the Rogues underground. Unintentionally he becomes one of the big bosses in the crime family as he forces them to alter pieces of information, use codes that only they understand, and build up a cover-up to make it seem like they use it for every vigilante and not only for a tiny Robin. (Whoever doesn’t do as he is told is either being put into a trap with Batman arriving or Tim makes it through cleverly planned incidents and more gaslighting that the Rogues end up fighting each other. You would assume that they understood that quickly, but people are sometimes stupid and like underestimating Tim, and as such, some more drastic measures needed to be taken. In the end, though, they learned to listen after all.)

It is that altered information that the League is only aware of because when they infiltrate some of the crime families to learn about the system, the plan never goes according to plan. Despite Talia’s strong suspicion of that bird, Ra’s has enough of losing good assassins for some measly system along with the unwanted attention of the Detective again that he orders them back. Talia is supposed to concentrate on their newest project that she put at risk because of Batman being too close for their liking now. (Talia does as she is told despite her dislike as she forms her new, little soldier through manipulation and honey-covered lies she whispers into his ears. With hundreds of years of knowledge, she knows just how to use pawns when it involves the pit.)

Jason and Tim’s first meeting

Like in canon because of the Red Hood’s appearance in Gotham, Tim is forced to leave for Florida and prohibited from leaving the Tower for an unknown amount of time. Tim does not mind that he is essentially skipping school for that time, however, he does mind that he was totally caught off-guard by the Waynes and as he was rushed through the Zeta tube he was unprepared. With the Waynes being unaware of his nature (granted that is on him 100% and isn’t it what he wanted) there is not enough time to take a lot with himself, which includes the much-needed packages of blood he regularly consumes to stay sane and, you know, alive.

It isn’t much of a rebellion when he tries to escape out of the tower and much more of a healthy desire to live. Tim might not seem like it with his unhealthy tendencies, but he does have a stronger will to survive than a wet paperback. But as predicted with someone like Batman, the safety measures prove themselves to be fruitful and even Barbara does not want to help him out, instead reinforcing the system. It is completely unreasonable and overkill in Tim’s eyes when heroes from the Justice League show up when he does end up getting out by a sheer miracle. Finally meeting the Green Lantern he loved ever since he was small (Tim is in denial that he still is) isn’t worth it though with the follow-up lectures, but the worst ones are when Superman - who is practically like an uncle to the Waynes - shows up and gives him that disappointed puppy look. Even when the man isn’t his uncle because Tim is not a Wayne by any means, it has a deadly effect on him. And then come the messages from Dick that make Tim feel so guilty that he lets go of his stubbornness for once and plays obedient soldier.

(Tim watched with rising panic as he depletes the little amount of blood resources that he had and a familiar feeling of hunger settles in him. Being alone and hungry was a familiar friend, if you could call it that, for Tim. But Tim had gotten so used to a different reality -although it was still slow going as both Bruce and Tim himself were hesitant- that it was now something that he dreaded.)

With very poor timing it is when Tim is at his worst that the Red Hood breaks into the Tower and comes across Tim. Not Robin, but Tim the monster. A boy that he heard a lot about through Talia and yet that boy before him then wasn’t quite as helpless and weak as he has been told. He had a familiar edge in his smile, in the way that his eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul and how he didn’t hesitate to grasp a knife as a weapon. (Robin was supposed to be the comfort, the sneaky surprise that struck when you least expect it. Not deadly dangerous. That wasn’t Jason or Tim, they were familiar with the darkness and didn’t hesitate to use it. They were a different kind.) None of that mattered to the Red Hood in that moment however. The pit hummed in satisfaction to have an evenly matched target that could keep up with its strength, though technique wise they were far different. The pit drowned out how similiar the two were, the pit only made the Red Hood see green and so incredibly angry.

The Red Hood wasn’t the only one who was filled with an unexplainable surge of power, however. Tim fought viciously against the larger man who could count himself lucky with the helmet, because otherwise, Tim would have already ripped his throat open. He made do with the knife in his hand instead of his Bo-staff and he managed to hurt the Red Hood more than once, although none of the wounds are fatal enough to halter the man in his steps. Angry at that, the Red Hood managed to push Tim down the stairs where he crumbled into a mess along with his weapon when bones snapped. Groaning and cursing Tim was ready to get up again when he was shoved back down and the Red Hood took off the helmet.

Jason Todd, his hero, his dead Robin stood before Tim. Not so dead after all.

The reveal was a greater shock than when Jason leaned closer and spat a choice of words at the replacement. The pretender. The cuckoo that snuck into a nest he wasn’t supposed to have when he had his own family. Nevermind that it was a poor excuse of one. But Jason didn’t know anything about the truth. How could he? He didn’t know that he lost his mother long before she died of person. Didn’t know that the comatose state of his father was a mercy in disguise. Didn’t know that the Waynes didn’t even truly want him. Jason was angry at Tim and regardless of the explanations that he tried, the older didn’t want to listen to him any longer.

As such, the slitting of his throat came quick like the strike of a viper. Jason didn’t care as Tim bleed out then and there. He left his message for the Bats and left without even sparing Tim another glance. That hurt more than it should have and it took Tim longer than he wanted to call back the logical part of his brain. Like, how he was in danger of dying. He activated his emergency beacon and hoped that Bruce and Dick would soon come, but Tim knew that his survival rate wasn’t great. (Vampires weren’t immortal despite popular belief in pop media. He had seen it with his mother after all. Vampires turned grey in a way no human could and not long after they would turn to ash. There was a reason that the Drakes were apparently always burned and not put in coffins.) Tim did not wish to die, so he did the only logical conclusion. Crawling to the knife that was kicked aside by Jason, he took the weapon in his slippery hands and prayed that all the blood on it was more from Jason than his own. His own would have proven to be useless. With probably not much time left, Tim licked the blood off from the knife even when it made his poor throat scream in more pain.

However, that was nothing compared to the following. Tim had never tasted such awful blood like then. It was rotten and slid down his throat like sludge, he needed to fight against the urge to throw it back up again. Forcefully he kept his mouth shut even when the heat set in. The usual healing effect of blood was cool and numbing to his body, but this blood scorched from his insides and decidedly did not start healing the wound. Being a naturally cold creature, the heat was nearly unbearable to endure. At first, Tim thought he misjudged and that he would die that die, but then he did realize that there was somewhat of an effect. While it didn’t heal the wound, it stopped the blood flow enough that he could outlive the attack.

Later on Bruce, Alfred and Dick would wonder how Tim survived. They were thankful beyond belief, but there had been so much blood and Tim lied so cold and still that Dick fully expected to have lost another younger brother when he didn’t have the chance to protect him, again. Tim did not want to talk about that day, barely even spoke which was at first explained by the injury but later on put on as trauma. Tim would end up disclosing who the Red Hood was, but beyond that there was not a thing he explained.

Dick caught Tim more than once staring into the mirror and looking at the scar, the first scar that was ever left on his body. Dick would try his best to cheer him up and explain that it didn’t make him ugly or anything, but Dick had no clue to the extent of how much it truly unsettled Tim. For the first time, the powers of his have failed. Tim wasn’t scared of the attack itself or what Jason had done, Tim was scared that it could happen again now.

#Tim drake as a Vampire #Jason Todds titan tower attack #batfamily #Tim Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss Drake #Tim the crime boss #Dark Tim #the rogues invent a Tim warning system for themselves #people are scared of Tim drake for good reason #feral tim drake #are you really the bad guy when you become the crime boss tamer on accident and you want to keep people save #dick grayson #dick graysons guilt keeps him awake at night

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ybyag-lil · 5 months

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I just... LOVE Sunshrine as a ship and have my delusions and HC's about it and I needed to put these thoughts out on WHY I like them so much somewhere other than in my fics or else I'm literally going to explode, so—

Annoyed x Annoyance. Need I say more?

I will.

If we're talking purely potential ship dynamics, we have:

Flirty x oblivious, Denial/Dense, Sunshine x Sunshine protector, stoic vs pain in the ass, optimist vs pessimist, "why me?" "why not you?", Insecure vs showers them in love.

Sun and Moon/Day and Night yadda yadda y'know the drill

Complementary colors (orange/blue) that you can correlate with their difference in personality.

But I hate reducing them to basic opposites attract and other dynamics bec they're NOT completely opposite - they actually have a lot in common!

"Two sides of the same coin" is how I'd actually describe them.

They're both trying to find their own way in life, and the paths they're taking are so fundamentally different than what has come before them.

Their voice-lines about it. Love to read into those

("I'll walk a different path this time." "I'll find my own path." "The path shapes you." "That's the path you've found?")

Potential for shared isolation issues and fear of abandonment!!!!

I feel like Kiriko's life suddenly shifting one day when Sojiro was killed and her proceeding to lose a bunch of people she held near and dear (not even counting Kanezaka itself facing major power and societal shifts) is not talked about enough. The only real personal connections she knows she has left are:

Her mom, who is forced into inaction and can't move to help liberate Kanezaka or save-

Her dad, who is currently Hashimoto's leverage/hostage and she doesn't even know for sure is still alive rn bc she hasn't seen him.

and Hanzo, which, there's a load of angst there HC and actually in-game wise for her connection with both him and Genji that would be a while 'nother conversation. I don't know if Kiriko even knows Genji's still alive, actually? More issues!

Illari's pretty self explanatory with that isolation/abandonment point. That girl's riding the, "I don't need anyone else (because I'll only end up hurting them)" train so hard. So much so that she doesn't even really feel comfortable showing any positive emotions to people around her (cheer/hello/chuckle animations anyone?).

Kiriko/Illari are both "chosen".

That one's kinda out there tbh, but my logic behind it is that Illari is already notably special. She's prodigy that was quickly predicted to be the GREATEST fucking Inti warrior of her time, whose power was so great that she turned every single other Inti warrior to ashes unintentionally.

(which, by the way, is insane if we assume the augmentations have to give you some sort of resistance to solar power to be able to wield it in the first place?)

Kiriko is where I start playing fast and loose. I'd argue her having the power of the Kitsune (which is not fucking science idc what lore comes in the future, magic exists in this fucking universe!) to such an extent makes her chosen in her own way. Like I'm assuming the teleporting around, the self healing like, and everything else is not a standard affair but no-one talks about the Shimada FAMILY being able to summon dragons so. Maybe that's just the standard in Japan.

On that note — they also both have a responsibility to their people which sort of parallel each other.

Kiriko has happily taken up the mantle of a vigilante to protect the people of Kanezaka, and, as far as we know, she has no qualms about doing it. Her way of doing things is different to how her family served/protected for generations in the past, but she still upholds the duty like it's second nature.

Pure conjecture, but I don't think Kiriko's ever felt forced to do it either. There was never a, "you must protect the town!" talk or anything like that from her grandmother/mom, she's doing it because it feels right to do.

Illari, conversely was always told she had a responsibility to her people. If you read between the lines of her lore blurb on her OW2 page and listen to what she says in her origin video, you get the sense that it was a sort of... burden? Heavy is the head that wears the crown and all that.

I compare it to the "gifted-kid burnout" precisely because of this. Illari has always been molded to follow one path, a rigorous one she didn't really have a choice BUT to follow. You're told at a young age that you are special, that there's no-one else like you, that you will grow to become a legend. How could you even begin to refuse that?

You don't. And when it all starts to fall apart, you start to wonder what's wrong with yourself. Illari has lived a life dedicated to serving, and now there's no-one left but her.

She def has some self worth/esteem issues stemming from having to be this prodigal kid essentially groomed (not that way) her whole childhood to be strong and nothing else. Couple that with an overwhelming feeling of regret for failing to uphold her duty as a protector and you have someone who is just completely lost - direction AND sense of self wise.

And I think Kiriko could help with that. Say what you want about her, but you can't deny that Kiri is strong. Imagine Illari meeting her and realizing that for herself. That despite how careless and foolish Illari thinks Kiriko is, she somehow still manages to protect her people as her duty.

Imagine her realizing that she's been taught a lie her whole life, that she doesn't have to just be Illari, the strongest Inti warrior, she can also just be Illari - the scared 18yr old trying to find a new purpose in life after that choice was stolen from her.

Like Zen says to her, "true strength comes to those who accept their weaknesses". Illari's gotta learn that she can't just be strong, she has to learn to balance these aspects of herself.

and who has played a balancing act between conflicting ideals before? Who has carved her own path out of what she's known? Kiriko.

Ahem, back to a few more hehe haha shipping things

They're both pretty capable as fighters, and both trained since they were kids. They're both probably very disciplined because of it.

(I was going to say "though Kiriko is reckless despite that" but I refuse to believe Illari isn't equally as reckless.)

They're both very petty, check out those revenge voice lines—

("Forgive and forget? Nah..." and, "Forgiveness? Never heard of it." Are two examples LOL)

They're both smart assess. Kiriko is Kiriko so that one's obvious, and I'm looking at your Hanzo/Soldier/Sombra/Ana start up interactions, AND your sassy ass "I didn't do it for you," ally save voice line, Illari.

THEY'RE LITERALLY SPRING - SUN ILLARI, BREEZE/WHATEVER TF ELSE KIRIKO

And the two most important things....

They're just cute. Like seriously look at these little idiots, I love them both dearly.

And it's kind of a funny ship. I'm a firm believer that you don't need a reason to ship two characters, and Kiriko and Illari liking each other can lead into some hilarious ass dynamics, so why not?

Anyways, finished with my brainrot spew. If you've made it this far, check out my AO3 where I will be brainrotting even further in the future. Might post some dumb shitposts here about these two from time to time.

Illari and Kiriko's voice line pages for the things I quote.

(some of this, particularly parts regarding Kiriko, might be incorrect bec I haven't read a single lore comic and am going of things I can vaguely remember hearing about.)

#yes I want you all to know I pull up their voicelines CONSTANTLY and steal whatever glimpses of character I see and run with it #This is my OTP and I will die on this fucking hill #kiriko kamori #illari quispe ruiz #sunshrine #overwatch #ship talk #character dynamics

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kastlequill · 1 year

Text

knock, knock

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader word count: 1.4k summary: when an unstoppable force meets a movable object tags: whumptober, first meetings, bank robbery, rescue, hurt/comfort, fluff if you squint, civilian!reader, miguel is a dork, no y/n warnings: none ao3: read here

Work was awful; always was, always would be. But today differed in its awfulness.

Usually, work sucked because of power-tripping bosses, incompetent coworkers, and asshole customers. As a banker, you had grown accustomed to dealing with not-so-nice folks who were eager to withdraw funds or deposit a fat check. Today, however, went to shit for an entirely new set of reasons.

A blaster dug deeper into the small of your back. “Do you know where the vault is or not, lady?”

Robbing a bank. How original.

“Yes, I—” God, what could you even say? It wasn’t as if the nutjob would see reason. “I have the code. If you ease up a bit on the gun, I can open it for you. No one has to get hurt here.”

The few silent moments of deliberation filled you with unease. There was no telling how triggerhappy this guy was, nor how impulsive.

“Don’t even think about playing any games. I’ll vaporize you faster than you can scream for help,” he snarled directly into your ear, the fabric of his ski mask brushing against skin. The press of the blaster disappeared, and you exhaled in relief. “Lead the way.”

And so you did.

You were in no position to play hero, not when he could pull the trigger in a split second, and certainly not when your pay was barely above the minimum wage. Dying for a job that didn’t even care to provide you with a livable salary would fucking suck.

Luckily, you wouldn’t have to.

As you started to direct the intruder to the back of the building, adrenaline mounting and mind racing, a blur of red and blue suddenly cut across the room. With its speed came a gust of wind that ruffled your hair and drew your full attention toward the flurry of motion. At the center of the chaos stood a man who you’d only ever seen on the news, whether as a still photo printed in the papers or as a shaky video on TV filmed by some random passerby.

Spider-Man. Easily beating the absolute shit out of the guy who had threatened you mere moments ago.

While they were both distracted, you tiptoed back to the front counter, crawled into the space between your chair and the desk setup, then pushed the emergency button that dispatched law enforcement. But you knew help wouldn’t arrive for at least another fifteen minutes.

The joys of living in Nueva York.

From where you hid, it was possible to glean a fragmented view of the fight, criminal versus vigilante. The latter threw the former around as if he were merely a ragdoll, and the sheer ease with which the hero did so reminded you of a cat pawing at a helpless mouse, wanting to have a little fun before the ultimate kill. They exchanged words as well as punches, but your hearing didn’t extend so far as to hear the specifics of their no doubt hostile, undiplomatic conversation.

Commotion raged on; pained groans accompanied by the subsequent splintering wood as the robber’s body crashed into another desk, followed by resonant thuds as unnaturally-powerful fists rained down on him. Spider-Man held little back and had no qualms delivering a violent retribution.

Not that you had any, either.

Finally, after what seemed to be an endless brawl—if such a one-sided beating could even qualify as a brawl—there was silence at last. Complete and utter silence. No heavy breathing from exertion, no agonized howls, no groveling for mercy.

Just quiet. The type of quiet that settled over a desolate city post-natural disaster, that permeated the air in a bloodied warzone post-surrender.

Until a throat cleared from somewhere above. “You in there?”

When you glanced up, the face that greeted you wasn’t by definition a face, but rather a mask. Red lines framed where eyes laid hidden, and the expression into which the markings configured told of slight concern. The outline of his hulking figure was illuminated by the flickering of a broken light, occasionally revealing to you a skeletonized spider emblem on his torso.

You found yourself wanting to absorb every little detail, every pattern and design, because you didn’t think it statistically probable that you would see him again. If the universe was feeling benevolent, then these kinds of events would happen only once in a lifetime. Prior to today, you’d not had the pleasure of crossing paths with Death, nor had you the good fortune of being in the vicinity of one of the most wanted men in the city.

A great deal had changed since this morning, however. And, to be quite frank, you were ready for the world to return to normal, eager for tomorrow to begin and end without misery or mayhem—

His knuckles rapped the counter overhead. “Knock, knock.”

What the hell. Was this guy for real? He didn’t give you the impression of being the funny type, but neither did he seem the kind of guy to participate in idle chatter.

“Who’s there?” you replied, curious yet cautious.

“A little old lady.”

“A little old lady who?”

“Bank telling and yodeling? Talk about being talented,” he remarked with a low whistle of admiration.

At the cheesy punchline, you crawled out from your hiding spot, stood, and stretched a bit to assuage the ache that had settled in your muscles as a result of crouching for too long. You dusted off your knees once much of the tension had dissipated then fixed him with an unwavering stare, raising an unimpressed brow.

“I’ve got one more for you.” Spider-Man put his hands on his waist and lifted his chin. While true that his features were obscured, you’d bet his eyes had become narrowed and intent, determined to evoke your laughter. “Knock, knock.”

Fine, I’ll bite. “Who’s there?”

“Police.”

“Police who?”

“Police hurry up, I need to take my lunch break.”

Lunch break.

You hadn’t had the chance to go on yours, too preoccupied trying to survive being held at gunpoint. Mortifyingly, this realization caused a salty wet trail to travel the length of your cheek, then another, and then a choked sob bubbled forth against your will.

The hero cursed something you couldn’t quite catch under his breath and sheepishly rubbed a hand down his masked face. Clearly, comforting crying civilians didn’t come naturally to him the way combat did. Although, in his defense, few had the energy to navigate a hysterical woman’s emotions after just starting (and finishing) a fight.

“I didn’t mean. . . The jokes are stupid, I know—”

“—no, it’s not that.” You waved off the unwarranted apology and attempted to put a lid on the accumulated stress that had decided to manifest in the form of frustrated tears. “I just realized I didn’t even get to eat lunch, is all. I always clock out at 12:30, but that asshole threw everything off with his shitty robbery attempt, so now it’s 1:07, and we’re only allowed thirty minutes, and I still haven’t had any food today besides a soggy bagel this morning, and I’m so fucking tired, and he pulled a blaster on me—”

The rant quickly devolved into hurried gasps for air, your chest heaving, your lungs not fully functional. How embarrassing to be rendered to a state of hyperventilation, especially since an infamous vigilante was around to witness your crumbling composure.

“Deep breaths,” Spider-Man murmured, pulling you by the shoulders toward him, your nose connecting with his sternum. To you, such was an act of humanity free from ulterior motives; this hug was the simple conclusion to everything that had transpired. A solace. “That’s it, just breathe when I breathe.”

Easier said than done, but you could appreciate the sentiment all the same. Some minutes later, your lungs had begun to expand and contract at a regulated pace, heeding his own rhythm.

“You’re okay. You’re safe.”

Safe. Was it safety, then, that caused this warm fuzziness to bloom in your chest?

You couldn’t recall when you’d last felt this comforted by another’s presence, when you’d last been this at peace in a world overrun with strife and conflict. There was no telling how long you stayed wrapped up in his steady embrace, your respirations synced. The very passage of time seemed to halt, the two of you frozen in this singular moment.

Only when the wailing of sirens began to draw nearer did he remove himself from you and vacate the premises, swinging from one building to the next, further and further away.

Only when he left your line of sight did you finally shut your eyes, preparing yourself to be questioned by the approaching news anchors and police officers.

fin.

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #spiderman x reader #spiderman #across the spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #marvel #whumptober #my fic #fic: knock knock

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