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“Here's the truth: there is no beginning. There is no end. There simply is, because that is what it is to live, events tangled like spider-silk in dawn's light. No causation or correlation or reason, just a series of mistakes and apologies and beautiful, breath-taking moments that combine over years, over eons, until suddenly you're blinking and it's all rushing past you, memories like grains of sand through an hourglass, and time's up—”

- The Truth (and Other Nebulous Things)

Chill_with_Penguins on ao3

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“His heart beats steady and happy and he smells like hypoallergenic washing powder and the sort of sunlight that makes some people sneeze. He's the best thing that ever happened to Matt Murdock, the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, attorney at law, the man who could never deserve Foggy Nelson as long as he lives. He kisses Matt on the forehead before he leaves, because he does that, sometimes, when they're alone, and Matt has never let himself hope that it means anything.

In the everlasting second before the door swings closed, Matt feels the words curling in the back of his throat, trying to force their way out like a cat with a hairball. I love you, I love you so much it hurts, and I know pain from pain, I would do anything to make you stay, I would do anything to keep you safe, and you can never be safe around me, I know you don't love me back and it's okay, it's okay, just lie to me this once except I would never ask you that, ever, please don't go, please don't go--

Matt wonders if what holds his tongue is cowardice, or bravery. In this brave new world of theirs, it's starting to get a little difficult to tell the difference.”

[wordsimnormalabt]

“She died. She thinks she was always meant to. She’s died a couple of times, in fact. And every time she comes back, she’s a little stronger, a little better, a little wiser, and a little more hollow. She keeps dying with no funeral. No previous versions of her have been honored, and she might be the only person who mourns.”

-help, i’m still at the restaurant by massivdisaster on ao3

[wordsimnormalabt]

“Oh, yeah,” Tim grumbled. “Adjustments. All you did was add a skirt. It’s the same suit with a skirt on it. Don’t think I can’t tell. The skirt doesn’t even serve a purpose!”

“Extra thigh protection,” Barbara claimed.

“You’re just upset that Impulse tugged on my skirt before you could,” Tim huffed.

“Impulse did what?” Dick asked, tone pleasant.

Somehow, his pleasant tone of voice was scarier than his angry one.

Tim decided that Bart’s life was more important than his own embarrassment, and so said: “That isn’t the point.”

“It could be the point,” Dick replied evenly.

“Stop it, Boy Wonder,” Barbara ordered. “He’ll never tell you anything if you act like this.”

“I never tell Dick anything anyway,” Tim commented.

“Are you done changing yet?” Barbara questioned. “I don’t hear any clothes rustling, so I’m assuming-“

“Let a guy stall, jeez,” Tim grumbled.

“You can stall by explaining what Impulse-“ Dick began to suggest.

“I’m done!” Tim exclaimed”

-Tim Drake: Bisexual Awakener Extraordinaire by PrinceJakeFireCake on ao3

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“Kristen looks down because looking at Riz would be really hard right now, for some reason, which is weird, because he’s her friend.

Riz is quiet.

Secretly, she hopes he can’t hear the jealousy that drips off her words, hopes her tone was light enough to not reveal too much of the black bile she tries so hard to keep in her chest instead of her throat. She’s looking at her hands, picking at a hangnail, and Riz is so quiet. It lingers there, long enough for the ridge of skin to catch under the nail of her thumb and rip, long enough for a drop of blood to emerge and trail along her cuticle in a sort of mesmerizing semi-circle.

Long enough the Kristen feels the part of her that can’t look at him to break against the part of her that has to look, has to see his reaction, if he’s sick of her, if he’s finally tired of her inability to say anything without tacking in a joke.

So, she looks.

Riz is staring at her, sharp, analytical eyes probably seeing into the deepest parts of her. Kristen wonders what he finds there. She could never ask. It’s so much, Riz’s stare, so serious and intense. He is a harsh little guy, and Kristen never feels more secure than when he’s got his attention trained on her.”

-to the bone by spibby on ao3

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“he was getting a reputation as a snitch. That’d suck if he got sent back to prison. Not that his family wouldn’t get him out within the day, but still, it was the principle of the thing.”

[wordsimnormalabt]

“(during spring break, on one of the long nights he spent staring at his clueboard, fabian had brought him a cup of tea, expecting him to take it wordlessly. instead, he stared into the bottom of it, and mumbled something fabian had strained to hear,

you know, in my mind, i've already solved it.

fabian had blinked the sleep away from his eyes immediately, and the ball shook his head,

no, not like that. i don't know the answers, not yet. but did you know-

riz had told him about some article he had read, about how memory isn't relegated to the past. the part of your brain that's memory and the part of your brain that's prediction is the same. that, if you think about it cosmically, if your brain remembers the future the same way as it remembers the past, then solving it is a memory. that everything that's not right now is a memory.

he had taken a sip then, and looked up at fabian, with such tiredness in his eyes that fabian wondered if riz even knew exactly what he was talking about as he said,

i just wish i knew what was on the other side of this.

as fabian woke up this morning, that had echoed, before he had a chance to really place it. his eyes had opened, his chest harboring a funny feeling, and it had been there, suddenly, riz's tired voice.

what's on the other side of this?)”

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“the ball just looks like the ball, the starch of his shirt worn off and thus wrinkled in weird places, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. the light illuminates the fine hairs on his arm, the pattern still slightly weird from his tattoo removal. he looks exactly how he is, a consultant spy for heaven in a fantasy goodwill in suburbia. angelic in some sort of clumsy coming of age way.”

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“(Everyone is so horny. All the time. Adaine and him agree it’s annoying, and Riz watches in horror as she sets up a vaguely lethal-looking trap for her sister).”

-The leading cause of death for goblins (is an adventuring party)

By Vioun on ao3

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“fabian turns around, and if gorgug and ragh put up a fight, he doesn't have the wherewithal to notice. he can't dodge, he can't duck, and he can't flip over it, so fabian does what's becoming a new habit.

fabian runs away.”

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“They laugh, quietly. The sun is high and Fabian is smiling, and Riz forgets why he's supposed to be freaking out.

Fabian says, "Do you remember the first day of school?"

"Yeah," says Riz.

"Do you remember how we met?"

"You slam dunked me into a trash can," says Riz.

"That's right!" Fabian beams.

He's so easy to please, Riz thinks helplessly, and he makes a fuss about nice clothes and food and expensive cars, but at the end of the day Fabian Seacaster is just one more very brave boy who never had enough love to go around, and all it takes to make him happy is showing up. It's so easy. He thinks he could make Fabian happy, if Fabian wanted. If Fabian let him. He'd be good at it. He'd try so hard.”

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“Kristen nods, but doesn’t say anything, just gazes out over the crowd like she’s trying to spot an old friend, someone difficult to find. It’s moments like this where Riz can look at his friend and really see her as a saint, can practically picture her with a small glowing halo behind her ponytail.”

[wordsimnormalabt]

“I do not want to be cruel to my son, Bruce thinks, desperately, staring down at Red Hood's defiant figure. I do not know how to be good to him.”

-all I want is for you to be alright

Crystalcatgamer ao3

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“He almost flinches when Jason shifts, moving in the bed so he can rest his head on Roy’s shoulder. When Roy glances over, Jason’s reading his book over his shoulder.

Something in him relaxes at that. It’s still his Jason. Sweet Jason, who likes to read and feed the stray cats, who teases his brothers.

Jason, who gets so angry that he burns people alive.

Roy pushes the thought away and presses a kiss against Jason’s head.

He turns the page. He doesn’t think about the faint smell of smoke, still clinging to Jason’s hair.”

-Not supposed to bleed this way

Valkyriered on ao3

[wordsimnormalabt]

“(Everyone is so horny. All the time. Adaine and him agree it’s annoying, and Riz watches in horror as she sets up a vaguely lethal-looking trap for her sister).”

-The leading cause of death for goblins (is an adventuring party)

By Vioun on ao3

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“‘Artis Henderson, in The Unremarried Widow, wrote, “people kept giving me space, all of us hoping my grief had a half-life, but I didn't need space. I needed people to say Miles's name out loud. needed them not to flinch when I said it. Weren't they curious about the color of his eyes? I needed them to acknowledge not just that he had died but that he had lived” He quotes it from memory, like he'd read it so much it sits idle on his mind for whenever he needs it. Jason clears his throat, "So here goes, I guess. Tim... Tim was smart, the cleverest guy I ever met, but we all knew that. He liked trashy old Kung Fu movies and the way a record player sounded when the needle first touched down.”

Cassie had gotten a record player from her mom one year on her birthday. Tim came over and they spent all day stopping into old vintage shops, flipping through records and discussing Pink Floyd's best albums.

Jason smiles like he’s remembering something, just like she is. “He hated green beans and his room was a mess because he controlled every part of his life, and that was the only space he could let go… one time I asked him how electrical currents worked and two hours later I was getting a lecture on quantum mechanics.” Jason laughs again, and so do some people in the crowd. Cassie thinks she can hear Cissie’s familiar giggle. Jason’s face goes somber again, and he nods, swiping at his eyes before he shoves his hands deep into his pockets.

"Tim was my brother, and I love him, and I never told him that, not enough. Oh, and his eyes, they're blue.”

The world fades, after that.”

- How rare and beautiful it is to even exist by Popsunner on ao3

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“Slowly sitting back in his chair, Jawbone considers. It’s a look that feels like a weighted blanket, and Riz squirms underneath it, “You know, kid, I get it. It’s hard being a lycanthrope, and I can imagine it’s hard being a goblin,” he takes a sip of his drink, “But we keep fighting. Like an underpaid employee that sucks cock for minimum wage, or a washed up celebrity going to rehab. We keep going.”

“You’re not making it sound appealing.”

“Well, kiddo. That’s ‘cause it isn’t,” Jawbone reaches for his reading glasses, “But who said it has to be? Change is ugly, and it comes around fighting. Make it bloody, kiddo. Make it bruise. Make that change last and you’ll come around. And if you want it easy, or if some high-elf assholes want change to be pretty, tell them to throw a coat of fucking paint over it.””