#Has anybody literally ever written a character like this

[crystalkleure]

Funniest shit in the world, though I don’t really see it utilized very much, is when the poor weak, sickly, hospital-bound character is cured of whatever ailment is confining them to the hospital bed, and then once they get their energy back and are actually capable of doing more than just Be Unconscious For Most Of The Day, you realize they are an absolute fucking menace lmfao

They are a reckless, moderately insane, fuck-around-and-find-out type who has weeks, months, or YEARS of pent-up Desire For Chaos And Carnage inside of them that is finally unleashed the moment they are freed from their beloathed medical facility. They get home, everybody celebrates, and then the first thing they do as soon as they are left unsupervised for like half a minute is set off a firecracker inside the house or something. Tomorrow they are going to drive the lawnmower to Wal-Mart. They decide to take up archery and promptly elect to practice on the neighbour’s lawn flamingoes. They’ve started a centipede collection in the guest bathroom. Everybody who is used to only knowing them as the Sad Sick Pitiful Guy Who Can’t Really Do Anything now has to learn [hopefully very quickly] that if anything is suddenly on fire for no reason then it is probably Hospital Guy’s fault.

#.It speaks #Funny shit #Tropreciation #Has anybody literally ever written a character like this #I'm talking about like if Aiga BeyBurst was first introduced as a Hospital Character #Toby MFB and Taiyou + Nosaka Ina11 were kind of close. Not quite COMPLETELY unhinged though. #I would say Nosaka was the closest because he was the least-hinged of the lot but he was never actually Confined In The Hospital #At least not for very long #He was a perfectly active threat even with a brain tumor #There was no surprise element #Toby also fails for a weird reason and that is because in spite of the fact that he totally would build a pipe bomb in the garage just to -- #-- see if he could...his Perceived Personality did not really change upon Attaining Freedom lol. He stayed pretty outwardly-calm and -- #-- reasonable-looking. So the Surprise Element comes not from Sudden Freedom but from his Genuine Vibe Even When Healthy vs. his behaviour #Therefore Taiyou actually came the closest to embodying the Specific Trope I am seeking #He didn't even quite wait until he was out of the hospital to start wreaking his havoc #Jin BeyBurst is ALMOST this trope too because he is definitely a Moderate Mischief Enthusiast and he is also sick but... #...he is not Trapped In The Hospital and never has been. He is perfectly free to wander around and pass out on the floor wherever he pleases #So once again we have zero surprise element. The Goblin Is Not Initially Restrained. #[All of these characters are Big Favourites of mine I am simply contemplating What If We Took The Concept Even Further lol]

[rowwiz]

so is nobody else aware that L and Light's names are technical opposites of one another?

ok, so, this requires a lot of elaboration, so bear with me here. first thing to clarify is Light's name. without too much deliberation, Japan has this phenomenon (to my western understanding) wherein certain parents will name their children after English words. (this could potentially include other western languages; i am unsure.) as japanese is a syllabary, most of the time, these words cannot actually be pronounced properly in japanese. these names are often also written with presumably completely unrelated characters. light's name is one of these, having to be pronounced as "raito" in japanese, and written (as he so kindly explains to naomi) with "tsuki," the character for "moon." these names are called "kira-kira names." i am not joking. (that L never made a joke about light's name being literally a "kira-kira" name leaves me with a harrowingly destitute void in my soul.)

last thing we need to do is look at the translation for "Yagami," which approximates (to my knowledge!) as meaning "high," as in "high in power" (not "high" as in "stoned," because that's probably more like L's thing).

so, if we take an extrapolation of this, and replace light's names with their written functions—his forename as being a kira-kira name and being written as moon, and his surname (depending on how it's written) meaning "high"—we can evaluate an interpretation of light's name as being, extensively, "kira-kira moon high."

maybe my fellow death note crazies can see where i'm going with this. now, let's look at L's name, which is far more self-explanatory. his name is L Lawliet (in case you are somehow on the death note tags and were not already aware), which is pronounced "L low-light." (which, as s a side note, is a hilariously unintuitive pronunciation for his name, implying that Light (if he ever heard it) would almost certainly misspell it (made even more likely as a native japanese speaker, even given how good his english is) and potentially make him immune to a human using the death note by misspelling it six times.)

so, if we put the *phonetic* pronunciation of L's name next to the *written* extrapolation of light's, and reduce light's name to its logical conclusion, we get "L low light" and "Kira moon high." (hyphon in L's name and hyphon + second 'kira' in light's removed, as light himself is not both kiras, and removing the second kira also removes the hyphon in his name, whereafter we then logically can remove the hyphon in l's name. like homoerotic algebra.)

furthering the analogy, and allowing a little leniency (given all the other obvious similarities) that "light" can be taken as the opposite to "moon"—as in, "sunlight," and furthermore, "sun"—we output "L low sun" and "Kira moon high."

if you interpret L as the sun and Light as the moon, then congrats, it's already spelled out for you. if you interpret L as the moon and light as the sun, then it's like they carry the symbolic celestial analogies of one another in the other's name, which is some crazy soulmate shit. if you're like me, and interpret them as being both but in different ways, then both ways are true simultaneously. (to me, it speaks to how similar they ultimately are that you can interpret them as being both the sun and moon, albeit in different fashions.)

either way, they have gay ass little names and i can't believe i've never heard anybody talk about this before. so eat up, death note tumblr. enjoy your meal.

#lawlight #l lawliet #light yagami #death note #deathnote #gay men #lawlight easter egg #am i just wildly insane or was this intentional

[rishiguro]

VERDICT - NEUVILLETTE

warnings: mentions of murder. mentions of minor character death. reader has a brother. 3k+ words

a/n: happy angstober people

angstober event

you’ve heard a lot of stories about the fortress of meropide growing up in fontaine.

a prison, not just underground, but underwater, hidden from everybody. a place to lock away the criminals, with barely anybody ever returning after they served their time. personally, you’ve never encountered anybody that actually went there, only a couple of imposters, posing for the media with some wild stories. and while most of these stories sounded like they were trying too hard to get people’s attention with some wild preposterous claims and grotesque details, no one could ever really disprove whatever was said.

an aura of mystery surrounded the fortress and its so-called ‘duke’, like a thick fog, and everybody who dared to enter it to find out what was on the other side would never come back to tell the tale. 

who knows, you probably wouldn’t either.

because there was nothing left for you on the surface anymore. just like it was the case for so many people that you had briefly seen when you were given a small part of the fortress – your new home.

refusing to look at the man who was arguably the sole reason why you were in here in the first place, you kept looking up at the dirty ceiling above you. 

could you really spend the rest of your life here? the label ‘criminal’ forever stamped on your forehead for a crime you didn’t commit? 

tears welled up in your eyes as you remembered why you were in here, your chest tightening.

brother.

he seemed to notice your distress while sitting next to you, leaning his body slightly forward. “i’m afraid there’s nothing i can do,” neuvillette said, his voice sounding as apathetic as it did when he had sentenced you. 

blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you shook your head. “there must be,” you answered, turning your head a little. he couldn’t just leave you here, there had to be something he can do, anything, even if it was using his position of power as a literal ‘get-out-of-jail-card’. he couldn’t just turn his back on you, could he? “i swear, i didn’t do it. i’m innocent”

the man sighed, you don’t know if it was in defeat or annoyance. “you were proclaimed guilty”

proclaimed guilty by him. 

you clenched your jaw, pulling yourself up to sit upright on the bed, directly facing neuvillette now. “i thought you said you believed me”

for a long time, his belief in you was the only thing that kept you going. frankly, it was the only thing that helped you stay sane during your trial, the thing that kept you from bursting in tears as the prosecutor told some dramatic story to frame you for the heinous crime you were in for now.

crossing his arms in front of his chest, he looked down for a second, as if to gather his thoughts, carefully weighing his words in his mind. “this isn’t about what i believe in” 

you had to stop your jaw from falling slack, replaying his words over and over again in your mind. not about what he believed in? was this supposed to be a bad joke? a shocked laugh escaped you. he couldn’t be serious. “you’re the chief of justice! of course it’s about what you believe in!” you tried you best to keep your voice calm, but couldn’t help but get a little heated.

“it’s about what’s factual,” he replied immediately, his tone clearly not allowing any kind of protests. his eyes narrowed as he looked at you coldly, clenching his jaw for a second. he took a breath before continuing, his voice back to a regular volume. “and all the evidence is stacked against you” 

as he was talking you already shook your head in disbelief. “i’m innocent! why would i do such a horrible thing?” you reached out to him, grabbing his arm as he turned away, seemingly not wanting to see your outburst. was ist shame that was written all over his face? regret?

“tell me!” you demanded loudly, digging your fingers a little deeper into his arm in desperation. you had to stop yourself from shaking him as your voice grew unsteady and your breather grew a little flatter. “why would i kill my own family, my brother, when he’s the only person i had left?!”

it seemed like he didn‘t have an answer to that, not facing you while you looked at him, waiting for any kind of explanation.

he promised you that he believed you when you came to him with shaky knees and teary eyes, recounting the horrible accusations thrown your way.

he comforted you when you broke down crying, embracing you in one of his rare hugs unprompted while he muttered soft words into your ear, reminding you to breathe regularly.

he held you when you lashed out, angry at your brother for leaving you alone in this scary world and he held you when you fell apart later, feeling guilty for being the only one left and guilty for being angry at your brother in the first place. it wasn‘t his fault — and he certainly never wanted to leave you, you knew that.

the world was cruel and unjust.

but until now you believed that there was some sort of justice and fairness and neuvillette was the only reason you believed that.

even before you had met him you knew about him. his reputation was practically flawless — the people of fontaine spoke about him in a highly manner, a few maybe even more highly than they spoke of their archon: neuvillette was moral, just, fair, his verdicts always being the same ones that the oratrice mecanique d‘analyse cardinale would give, which made him seem infallible. 

and you believed it too. until he became the reason why you believed that the kind of justice served in fontaine wasn’t true, proper justice.

until you lost hope in the only thing that helped you stay sane after you came across the cold body of your own brother.

a shiver ran over neuvillette‘s back when he heard you laugh after his long silence. quickly you let go of his arm, dropping it like it was replaced by hot coals. “i can’t believe it,” you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief again. this had to be a joke. would he really lie to you like that when you were the most vulnerable? “you never believed me when i said i didn’t do it, did you?”

much to your dismay, he stayed quiet, only pursing his lips slightly before pressing them together into a thin line. would he really betray you like that? was he ever on your side? “answer me!”

only when hearing your desperate pleas did he look at you again with his determined eyes. “i did. i thought you had no motive” he cleared his throat, shifting slightly in his seat before crossing his legs like he always did. “as you said, i didn’t think you’d gain anything from murdering your brother”

you recognized this neutral look on his face — the very same look he always took on whenever he was in court, listening to the defender and the prosecutor and finally also delivering his verdict.

“what changed?” you clenched your jaw, anxious about his answer. 

what would it be? did he let himself be swayed by the public opinion, listening to the voices booing your story out? did he trust the prosecutor's fabricated and seemingly flawless story? or were you simply not convincing enough?

“the facts changed,” he calmly stated, making you huff in disagreement.

“bullshit,” you spat, “you just found another story to believe in”

not waiting a second to retort, he leaned back slightly. “i told you, it's not about what i want to believe in, delusions aren’t what makes our justice. it’s fairness, facts,” he sighed. you don‘t know if it was in defeat or in a disappointed manner. his voice became sharper again its him putting his chin higher. “and that is what i represent”

“you‘ve convicted an innocent person,” you declared, mirroring his expression and posture. 

he would leave you here to rot, by now you were sure of it. and yet to you it seemed like he didn‘t really grasp the gravity of this.

neuvillette convicted you of murder. and if this wasn‘t bad enough, he truly believed that you had it in yourself to kill your own brother, your flesh and blood.

the only person you had left.

“i don’t give the final verdict. that is out of my hands,” he claimed, clearly referring to the oratrice — the huge scale behind himself in the court‘s opera epiclese.

was he really pinning the blame on a machine, denying any kind of involvement in your current situation? like he had nothing to do with this?

wasn‘t he supposed to be independent and just? wasn‘t this why he prided himself in his position and why the people of fontaine trusted him? because their beliefs aligned?  

“yet your decisions are always the same. how could you do this to me?”

instead of answering, neuvillette stood up, turning his back on you and taking a few steps towards the exit of your cell, well, dormitory.

could he really just leave like this and leave you behind? did he not feel any kind of remorse, pity, pain?

the echoing steps came to a halt a few moments after. you looked up at him again, only to realize he had already reached the exit. he had his hand on the dark wall, looking at you over his shoulder.

he couldn‘t even properly turn around to talk to you and face you after dooming you?

“i’m afraid there’s nothing i can do,” neuvillette stated in a matter-of-factly tone, “your sentence will be carried out accordingly, unless you wish to evoke your right to challenge a duelist”

so this was it? he would just go and leave you here?

“if there is nothing you wish to say to me, i’ll take my leave”

you knew neuvillette didn‘t exactly feel the way you did. he had troubles with emotions, often lacking the proper words to fully express himself and describing what was going on inside of him. and you used to pride yourself in being able to understand him regardless, possessing the ability to read him almost like an open book. you helped him navigate through the complicated world of feelings, taking your time and going at your speed.

but right now, you were second-guessing everything. was he even capable of any kind of emotion? did he just fool you all this time?

did he truly not feel any kind of remorse for what he did, for what he was doing?

you shook your head in disbelief. this had to be a joke, a sick prank someone played on you and somehow got not just the entire nation of fontaine, but also somehow managed to get neuvillette to play along. at least that‘s what you wanted to believe. “so that’s supposed ‘justice’” 

neuvillette turned around, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “it is justice,” he stated, “it’s about facts, not fiction”

you almost burst out laughing as he said that, so convinced of the system he served in. 

and truly, you once were too.

but you couldn‘t, not anymore. not after seeing how the trial against you turned into some sort of drama, like it was straight out of a book. journalists were publishing articles with grotesque headlines, bombarding you with horrendous questions that left you cringing uncomfortably. 

you watched as the story the prosecutor told got more and more dramatic, pointing at you accusatory as he recounted the ‘true events‘ of the fateful night, completely ignoring whatever you said to dispute his claims. “it’s not about facts, it’s about convenience! it’s just theatrics and entertainment!” you yelled as you jumped on your feet, not being able to contain your voice any longer.

“whoever presents the story that convinces the most people will win. and the people of fontaine are so easy to be swayed,” you continued, not letting the man in front of you get a single word in, “so thirsty for some juicy drama that lets them forget about their boring lives”

you couldn‘t stop yourself from scoffing again before letting a condescending laugh escape you. “and they don’t even have the critical thinking to reflect on everything”

your trial simply proved what you just told him. your point of view, your truth, simply didn‘t matter to the prosecutor or to the public. their story seemed to convenient, something that could be right out of a criminal novel that they loved to devour so much. the headlines in the newspaper were too sensational to be considered factual, too virulent to make any person doubt it. 

“the public’s opinion does not sway the sentence,” neuvillette claimed with a clenched jaw, starting to look agitated. 

and it seemed like they managed to get neuvillette on their side too. 

a sad smile appeared on your face. “then i guess you’re stupid too” stupid for not listening to your side, stupid to believe the prosecutor, stupid to not make a rational judgment.

too stupid to realize that your supposed motive wasn’t a motive at all.

money. why would you kill your own brother for money when the two of you never had anything to begin with? you couldn’t steal something when there wasn‘t anything in the first place. neuvillette knew that. he knew you came from nothing, he knew the two of you had nothing. 

and even if it was a motive — no amount of money would ever be able to heal the wound you had sustained from losing your brother.

how could he be so stupid?

“you’re acting childish,” he stated calmly. 

you were in jail and possibly would never see the light of day again. you were locked in an underwater fortress for a crime you didn‘t commit and nobody believed you.

and his worry was that you were acting childish?

“oh, i’m sorry for not being calm and collected like you after being unjustly sentenced for murdering my own brother!” you raised your voice at him again, angrily stepping closer to him. “and that by the one person that i thought actually believed me”

you had to swallow down the lump in your throat again, blinking rapidly before looking into his eyes again. 

how could he do this to you? was he truly so heartless? 

would he really leave you here, alone and heartbroken?

a familiar warm hand slightly caressed your cheek. “i love you,” he whispered to you, in the same loving voice he had always used with you. “but i cannot make any exceptions” he stepped back, the warmth leaving your cheek again, letting the cold creep up to you again. he looked almost hurt himself and you were almost willing to feel pity for him — maybe if he wasn’t the chief of justice. maybe if he couldn’t put a stop to all of this, “not even for you”

maybe if he had kept his promise to you.

your fingertips grazed over your cheek, longing for the warmth that neuvillette’s hand provided just a few seconds earlier. your chest tightened as you dug your teeth into your lower lip, feeling your eyes well up again. “so that’s it? you love me, but not enough to believe me? not enough to keep me safe? free?”

you clenched your fists at your sides, not noticing that he was doing exactly the same.

“this is about so much more than just you!” he exclaimed angrily, his voice practically booming off the walls, “you’re too self-centered to understand this!” 

did not wanting to rot in prison after being framed for a crime really make you self-centered? was that all he thought of you now?

“it’s my duty! my promise to the people from fontaine, my promise to our archon and my promise to myself to uphold justice,” he continued his rant, his voice growing uncharacteristically theatrical. 

was he really just a part of the theatrics of fontaine‘s supposed just court? was his equitable self just a ruse, an act he put on to fit in?

did you ever really know him?

“what about your promise to me?” your voice wasn‘t much more than a whisper as you spoke, looking up at him. not that you‘d be able to actually see him with how blurry your vision got from the tears in your eyes.

as childish and naive as it was, you couldn‘t help but wish for him to remember.

it was a late summer night, the first evening where you could finally go out. the past days it had rained with seemingly no end in sight and now you felt like you could finally breathe again.

you had been strolling around the city without any real goal, simply admiring how many people enjoyed the summer warmth after so many cold and wet days. 

neuvillette‘s hand was entangled with yours, the two of you walking in silence, simply enjoying each other‘s company. you had been seeing each other for a while now and yet it was still early enough for you to feel slightly nervous whenever you were near him, stomach turning and feeling butterflies when you held hands, hugged or kissed. 

it was on that day when he pulled you close to the fountain of lucine, wrapping his arms around you as the two of you spend some time listening to the ambience — the water running, the pigeons and other birds chirping and the few people talking around you, some whispering wishes to the fountain, some gleefully joking with each other. 

most people had already left when he turned you around to face him, letting go of your waist to grab your hands, pressing a kiss on your knuckles before he spoke.

it was the first time that he told you that he loved you, finally revealing just how much he cared for you and cherished you. how he would do everything in his power to protect you, how he would always believe you and how he would always stay by your side. 

how even when everybody turned their back on you, you would always have him. 

and yet here you were now.

you didn’t know what you would prefer — him forgetting about that day or him remembering, but simply not caring enough to act on it.

like everything he had told you — promised you — has been a lie. 

clenching his jaw, neuvillette turned around again.

no.

blinking away your tears you weakly called out his name, a part of you still expecting him to turn around.

don‘t go.

you hoped for a miracle, a change of heart. you wanted him to rush to you, to comfort you, to love you again.

maybe then everything would turn out to be okay again.

you stumbled, the back of your knees hitting the chair he had been sitting earlier, falling onto it.

don‘t leave me.

you still hoped that everything was just a big mistake.

you called out to him again, fighting against the tears that kept welling up in your eyes, leaving neuvillette‘s figure in front of you all blurred again. “what about that? why can you betray me like that, but not them?”

“i’m sorry” and with that he left, not even sparing you a single glance on his way out, as you pulled your knees up, hugging them while the tears began to roll over your cheek again.

reblogs are appreciated !

#₊❏❜ ⋮angstober ‘23 #₊❏❜ ⋮genshin #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x you #neuvillette angst #neuvillette imagine #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin imagines #genshin x you #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #neuvilette x you #neuvilette genshin #neuvillette genshin

[sundrop-writes]

Your First Kiss With Jason Todd

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

Jason always thought he hated you. He did hate you.

Until he didn't.

Until his love for you ruined him in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader. Frenemies to Lovers. Pure Angst (Hurt, No Comfort). Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 8,200

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic is almost entirely angst - hurt, no comfort. This fic does not have a happy ending!!! So be warned of that before you enter here. Jason and the reader are described as ‘hating’ each other, but they are more like frenemies/annoyances - they have a playful banter (at the time, even they don’t know that they like arguing because it’s sexual tension and passion for each other); the reader is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; this is mostly written from Jason’s POV (which is where most of the angst comes from); Jason describes himself as a ‘zombie’ or ‘half-alive’ - but he is fully alive and has all of his mental faculties, he is just freaked out about the fact that he was resurrected; the reader does not have any meta powers, but is described as being very good at combat (this does not denote the reader’s body type); mentions of sex and some sexual themes - but there is no outright smut and no detailed descriptions of sex; mentions of negative stereotypes surrounding frat boys/frat houses - including STDs and group sex (mentioned in a negative light); mentions of Jason masturbating (and thinking about the reader while doing it); mentions of Jason’s canon trauma (being kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, dropped off the building); mentions of Jason being killed by the Joker (and being ressurected by Crane); mentions of the reader mourning Jason’s death; mentions of drugs and drug addiction (based around the canon storyline of the anti-fear gas); mentions of Jason’s trauma surround his mother’s drug addiction; mentions of Jason killing Hank (as in the canon); the reader is kidnapped (by Crane or someone who works for Crane) and held hostage, and later rescued by Jason; somewhat graphic descriptions of violence (Jason beating up Crane, other background instances), gory descriptions of a death toward the end (mentions of acid burns and choking on non-breathable air); major character death - the reader character does die. Like I said - no happy ending. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: This is set during Season 3 - and this does feature spoilers for Season 3 if you haven't seen Titans before. So if you wanna watch the show spoiler free, definitely avoid this fic. I was imagining this to be set around episode 6 or episode 7, before Crane's plan to use the ice cream factory is taken down by the Titans, but obviously Jason breaking away from Crane's control so early goes against the canon - so there's that. Also, if you wanna pair some music with this for something truly heartbreaking, I would highly recommend the classic Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, or the highly underrated Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3 (the lyrics are way more depressing than people realize, and I love it as a whump song. oomf). I also feel like the song Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny would go so well with this fic, but in like - the most devastating way. I haven't written something this cruel since I wrote Ghosting and I had so much fun doing it. You can't leave me alone with whump for too long, I turn into a monster. I need to go back to smut again quickly lmao.

...

Jason Todd was in love with you. 

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. But it was true. You were someone who was so entirely amazing. You were beautiful - literally the hottest person Jason had ever met who wasn’t photoshopped or catered to be some unrealistic daydream. You were clever and smart and strong. You could kick anybody��s ass on any day of the week and still have enough energy left to tell them how much of an idiot they were and list all of the reasons why. 

And you would definitely never love Jason back. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could ever have someone like you. 

So he kept all of that stupid, idiotic love to himself. It was a secret that he had sworn to die with - and technically, he already had. 

Jason tried not to linger on the very fucked up, seemingly impossible fact that he had come back from the dead. And now he was existing as some weird, fucked up zombie thing - resurrected from having his skull caved in by the Joker to do Jonathan Crane’s bidding. This definitely wasn’t what Jason would have wanted out of a renewed life - but hey: when an Arkham prisoner gives you rotten lemons. 

When Jason wasn’t beating down drug dealers, stealing money, or strapping bombs to people - when he was trying his hardest not to focus on the fact that he had died and he was now living some strange half-life, reliant on Crane’s drugs, he was thinking about you. He thought about you a lot. 

He hadn’t come into contact with you since his strange foray back into the land of the living. That was probably for the best. He knew that you had freshly come back to Gotham, upon Dick’s request. Nightwing had called for backup from all the ex-Titans to help end Red Hood’s reign of terror. Jason wanted to stay as far away from you as possible. 

Genuinely, he didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Crane was planning. He wished you had stayed out of Gotham, but he knew that you were too loyal, too good not to come to the aid of the Titans when they needed you. He couldn’t reveal himself to you just for a taste of nostalgia - one last argument before you sold him down the river for good. But fuck - he thought about you a lot. 

When the two of you had first met, you were the last person he ever thought that he would surrender that stupid, soft label of love to. Even months into first knowing you - he would have said that he hated you. He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth. 

Your relationship used to be the worst kind of dance. 

Every single time that Jason opened his mouth, you said something to contradict him. To a point, he believed that you didn’t even fully stand behind the things you said - you just enjoyed arguing against him. That you did it for sport. You used every single last bit of your time and energy to get under his skin. From mocking him to calling him a fuckboy to prodding at his grammar, poking holes in his points by smugly correcting him. He always found you to be the most infuriating person in any room. But it seemed that the more frustrated he got with you, the more cool headed you remained. 

He tried to mock you back, and you shrugged it off. Every time he became visibly annoyed in your presence - you giggled. He wanted to strangle you. 

And it was one fated day that he realized the line between heat fueled by frustration and heat fueled by lust truly weren’t that different. 

… 

“Jason! I thought I smelled you coming down the hall!” 

Jason groaned when he heard you make this comment. 

He thought that for once, he could have some peace to train alone - but it appeared that he would have no such luck. You were already in the training room, holding a long bo-staff as you ran some drills. Apparently, you were eager to exercise your mouth too - already whipping off clever insults the minute that Jason entered the room. 

When all he could muster was a glare in your direction, you let out a giggle. His blood boiled. 

“Between that god awful Axe body wash and that alcohol based aftershave that you like to drown yourself in, you smell like a walking frat house.” You continued, blabbering on even though Jason had made no efforts to engage you. At least not yet. “Just throw in some Busch Light and weed, and I might be able to catch gonorrhea just from the stench.” 

That was the nerve that hooked Jason into the conversation. First of all - he smelled fucking delightful. He always made hygiene one of his personal priorities. He was absolutely not one of those guys with crusty, sweaty balls. And second of all - he was not one of those STD spreading manwhores. He was clean in all senses. He always used a condom. 

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jason quipped back. 

He looked to you for some kind of reaction, some inkling that he had gotten under your skin even a fraction of the way that you did his. His movements were rough with annoyance as he began wrapping his knuckles with tape so he could have a few rounds with the heavy bag - mostly out of a need to pound out his frustration on something. He was getting too angered with your presence in the room and not wanting to snap and take it out on you. (He already had enough on his record with Bruce, and despite popular opinion - he was trying to improve.) 

When you weren’t quick to respond, Jason continued. 

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.” 

Jason grinned, feeling like he had won this conversation with the essence of shock alone. 

But no. As always, you remained cool. You grinned right back at him, stepping toward him, crowding into his personal space as you said your next words in a low, smooth voice. 

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.” 

Jason’s face fell flat. 

You were so strikingly confident in your words that it made his stomach twist. Facing him down, speaking such filthy words without flinching - embarrassment and heat collided inside of him. Even more so with what you did next. 

You put a hand out in front of your crotch, mimicking the motions of jacking off while you mocked him in a broken voice. 

“Oh, oh fuck Y/N! Come on! Take my sloppy, frat house cock!” 

You then mocked a whiny series of moans that must have been Jason’s fake orgasm - and while Jason’s insides bubbled with a confusing heat, you quickly dissolved off into laughter. 

“Shut up.” Jason snapped, forcing his eyes down to focus on the process of taping himself up - praying that you wouldn’t see the heat that had spread across his cheeks. “You’re the fucking worst.” 

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you. 

He was eternally thankful when you went back to your own training in silence, only taking occasional glances up in his direction. 

… 

After that point, Jason had to admit to himself that he was attracted to you, at the very least. He could no longer deny that you were insanely attractive; you were a very, very hot person. And somehow, even past your annoying habits, he was being drawn into the orbit of your gorgeous looks and your wonderfully cocky, filthy mouth. 

But he still hated you. He definitely still hated you. 

He hated it even more when you became right - and you did become the object of some of his more heated fantasies. He became downright annoyed at the times he had his hand around his cock and imagined himself hate fucking you - imagined forcing every cocky retort out of your mouth, imagining you breathless and needy beneath him, begging for more with every hard push of his hips. 

He hated how everything changed after Doctor Light. 

Jason wasn’t thinking about your stupid beautiful cocky mouth after that. His mind was full of glass and he was being shredded from the inside out. He came home broken. After everything that happened with Deathstroke and Doctor Light - he was some fragile bird; some chewed up, used, pitiful thing. He didn’t have the energy to fight you anymore, not even for sport. 

So after he was rescued, still floating in numbness, he didn’t know what to do when you burst into his room unannounced. You practically shoved the door off its hinges, and stormed across the room toward him - tears hot in your eyes. You pounded curled fists against his chest, screaming at the top of your lungs. Half of your words were static in his ears, but the tone of your voice pierced through his heart like an arrow. You called him stupid, asking where in his empty head he had gotten the idea to go off by himself. 

Jason didn’t have it in him to fight you. So he broke down. 

He felt like the world’s biggest idiot for crying in front of you. But his throat was tight and he choked on the tears - he was too tired. He just couldn’t hold them back. He screamed back, and asked you to lay off. To get off his fucking back. 

You looked shocked. Like you had swallowed a piece of glass. 

You surprised him when you uncurled your fists and wrapped the most tender, gentle hands around his back, and for the first time since he had known you - you embraced him in a hug. He was weak and he needed it more than he was willing to admit, so he let you. He sobbed against your neck, his own cries too loud that he missed the timid sound of your apology. 

That wasn’t the only time you surprised him that week. 

He knew it was because he was some broken little bird, but you started taking care of him. You brought him plates of food without being asked, and when he attempted to shove them away - you refused. You told him to eat before you had to ‘shove it down his fucking throat’. 

You didn’t mock him. You didn’t correct him. And you surprised him even more when you turned the sharpness of your tongue on the others when they tried attacking Jason. They accused him of planting booze in Hank’s room or drawing crosses on Rachel’s mirror to fuck with her, among other things. And you popped veins in your neck going on a winding rant about how stupid and baseless their accusations were. 

Jason wasn’t sure if you knew it, but you jumping to his defense wrapped him in a blanket of protection that he had never before felt. It was so entirely strange, but welcomed coming from you. Especially because he knew that it was genuine. He knew that you didn’t have any ulterior motives for doing this - for some reason, you just wanted to help him. 

When you extended an invitation toward him to come with you as the group dispersed, torn apart by Dick’s nasty, festering secret - Jason felt welcomed by you. He knew that the dynamic between the two of you was changing at a breakneck speed, and he had to embrace it. He found himself eager to follow the weird, newly developing kinship that he had with you rather than wanting to stay in the empty coldness of the Tower with a brooding Dick. 

From there, it was really difficult for Jason to pin down the exact moment that his feelings transitioned toward you from casual lust to something more. He couldn’t tell exactly when it turned into that panic-inducing, ‘oh my god, I’m fucked’ feeling of being in love. After leaving San Francisco, during the entirety of the time that the two of you were in Gotham together, your relationship remained completely platonic. 

It was a few short weeks spent kicking ass as the best vigilante duo the city had ever seen, but there wasn’t a single moment Jason could point to where the two of you lit up with that romantic spark. It wasn’t some romcom bullshit come to life. It was just the two of you being friendly for once. The two of you helping each other survive. 

Back then - Jason wanted you, badly. Even if he didn’t know just how badly, he wasn’t going to fuck up the whole dynamic just to get laid. He felt safe with you. He kicked ass with you. He was good with you. And during that short time - he was happy. So he wasn’t going to do anything to risk that happiness. Happiness was too rare for him. So why the hell would he try putting the moves on you, scare you away, and fuck it all up? 

… 

A little slice of that happiness came in the form of Hal’s Diner. It was a place in downtown Gotham, open twenty four hours, and you and Jason had gotten into the habit of stopping there after your patrols. 

The two of you would kick some ass - break the legs of some drug dealers, make sure that women got home safe if they were walking late at night, keep the streets a little safer. And then you would change out of your patrol outfits and head to the diner, just as the sun was rising over the scummy streets of Gotham. You would get breakfast and Jason would get dinner. He would steal one of your eggs and you would take half his burger, and you would always comment about him putting way too much ketchup on his plate. 

It was harmony. 

“You know, every time I see you make a grown man cry, it brings me such intense joy.” Jason grinned as he said this, reminiscing about a beautiful moment from earlier in the night. 

He spoke about it in the same manner that someone might reminisce about seeing a relative or a cute puppy. But this was natural for the two of you - since you had taken up vigilantism as a duo, violence was a sweet art for the two of you. 

“Well, if he would have left that girl alone the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have broken his arm.” You shrugged, speaking very casually about it yourself. 

You then picked a piece of bacon up off your plate and took a bite, grinning at Jason fondly. You did appreciate it when he complimented your skills. 

Jason chuckled. 

“You know, it is nice to see you using your powers for good instead of evil.” He commented. 

“My powers?” You parroted back, your mouth half busy with chewing, your words slightly muffled. 

You didn’t have any metahuman powers, so this comment did leave you slightly confused. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, entirely confident in the statement he had to follow. “Your endless amount of energy to harass people and be endlessly annoying. The powers you used to spend all your time using on me.” 

“You used to deserve it.” You were quick with your tongue as usual, not missing a beat with this statement. 

Jason’s only rebuttal was to pick up a french fry - one not doused in ketchup - and throw it at your head. You flinched slightly when it bounced off your forehead - but when it landed in your lap, you easily picked it up and put it in your mouth, not thinking twice about doing so as you tossed Jason a wicked grin. 

That. That must have been the moment. 

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy. 

That’s why it hurt so much more when your phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. When you told him that it was the Titans - Gar in trouble. That’s why it hurt so fucking much when you left. 

Jason knew, in hindsight, that he should have gone with you. But he flailed like a rabbit caught in a snare, and rather than just agreeing with you, he felt the trap tightening around him, and he opted to chew off his own foot rather than simply letting you help him free. 

He stupidly argued that it was some test from Dick. That the Titans could deal with their own problems. Jason knew that deep down, he was still tender from everything that had happened - Dick dropping him, even by accident. The accusations, the secrets. The rejection. He felt like he was laying down a line - he was letting you make a choice. 

Him or the Titans. 

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you. 

Deep down, Jason feared that if he did go with you - the Titans wouldn’t want him back. He feared another cutting rejection. They would simply bench him again, they wouldn’t even need him to help save Gar. They wouldn’t want him to help. He was useless, after all. He was careless and stupid. That was why he needed you to choose him. To stay. 

That was what his mind was screaming out as you looked at him, disappointment flooding your eyes as you questioned him about Gar, about going back to the Titans. 

Stay. He silently begged. Pick me. 

And watching you snatch up your jacket in a huff and get up from the table, your food barely touched - his eyes boring into your back as you retreated - it was like having his heart carved out of his chest. And because he was so fucked up, he just sat there. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t chase you. 

He let you go. 

Having you suddenly disappear from his life was like missing a limb. Jason was constantly aching around your non-presence, constantly missing you. He felt torn up from the inside out, wondering if his frayed nerve endings would ever heal themselves. When he went to Donna’s funeral, he stared at you from across the tarmac - telling himself that if you even so much as glanced in his direction, he would cross that sickly one hundred foot black sea and talk to you. He would make the leap and apologize. 

But you were fettered and stubborn and you kept your head straight. You knew it was the ultimate punishment not to acknowledge him. So the moment that the plane took off, Jason shoved on his helmet and sped off on his bike.

He easily became numb after that. 

He went back to Bruce - to lay low and lick his wounds, or because it was the only place he knew, he wasn’t sure. He tried to be a Robin that wasn’t with you. It didn’t work. He felt more broken than ever. It was cheesy, pathetic bullshit - but he talked about you in therapy. Leslie encouraged him to reach out to you, but every time Jason’s fingers hovered over your contact in his phone, his hands shook, and all he remembered was the look of pure scorn you had given him before you snatched up your things and left the diner that day. 

He thought of you as he suited up to go after the Joker. He considered how easy it would be for the two of you to take down the stupid clown together - how flawlessly the two of you worked as a team. 

Jason thought of you as he drew his last breath, soaked in blood and struggling past the world-ending pain. He wondered, in a haze, if you were warm in your bed in The Tower while he was pressed into the cold ground, taunted by the laughter that rung in his ears. 

… 

Jason didn’t know how hard you cried for him when you heard the news of his death. 

You wouldn’t have dared to say that the hole in the middle of your chest was caused by love - caused by the heartbreak of a lover being stolen. But you certainly felt robbed when you heard that the Joker had killed him. You seethed and you heavily considered marching toward Gotham to seek revenge. 

You knew that Dick was angry with Bruce for finally giving in to what the Joker wanted and killing him. For finally ending their sick, twisted game. But when you found out - you were glad that the clown was dead. You wrapped one of Jason’s stolen shirts around your pillow, and you slept a bit easier at night. 

…

Jason knew that he should have left town. 

Crane claimed that Red Hood was going to be the next Batman - that he was going to be something the Bat never could. That he was going to actually keep the streets safe. But so far, all Jason had done was steal, kill, terrorize, torture. Crane spoke of omelets and breaking eggs - pigs and bacon, and ‘marketing’ himself to the public. But truly, it never made any real sense to Jason. 

Jason knew that now, he was the type of man lurking in the night whose arm you would have broken if he was lingering too closely to the vulnerable. And you would have been right for doing so. 

Jason was tired. He felt lost - directionless. He was getting tired of Crane’s bullshit. He missed you. But he knew that he couldn’t just go running back to you. You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did. 

When Crane called him in that night, wanting to discuss ‘the game plan’ - Jason was worn. His patience for all of it was already wearing thin, and what happened next - it truly caused him to snap. 

Jason showed up in full gear, wearing the costume of an alias he no longer believed in; foolishly dressed up as someone he had truly begun to resent. He was holding his helmet in hand, his heavy boots clunking on the floor as he dodged around Crane’s egghead lackeys - a random group of people who were working to convert the anti-fear gas into a larger batch. He knew that they were aiming to get more and more people in the city hooked; if Jason hadn’t abandoned his morals in this new life, he might have cared more about the consequences. 

Instead, he made a B-line for Crane, who was typing away at something on the computer. 

“Jason, my boy!” Crane grinned at him, giving a false, performative grin over his shoulder. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” 

“What do you want?” Jason asked, his tone flat. 

He was far too tired of Crane to engage in more word play or stupid riddles. 

“Never one for pleasantries, are you?” Crane chuckled. 

Jason didn’t offer him a reply - seemingly confirming his theory with this simple act. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very pleasant today. He hadn’t felt very pleasant any day since he had been so rudely pulled from the morgue and zombified to do someone else’s bidding against his will. Being an undead puppet didn’t really make a person all that pleasant. 

Crane reached into the pocket of his oddly quaint grandpa sweater and pulled something out - a small glass vial, containing some clear liquid. It looked harmless - like water. But Jason knew Crane, and he knew that whatever it was must have been entirely dangerous if Crane was carrying around such a small dose of it. 

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, giving the vial a small shake, jostling the liquid inside to emphasize his point. 

Jason hesitated before he shook his head in the negative. He hated to appear clueless and stupid around such an intelligent man, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong. He knew that being misinformed around Crane was dangerous. But being cocky and pretending to know more than Crane was even more dangerous. 

“This is a very highly concentrated form of liquid Methadone.” Crane explained. “It’s a highly addictive substance. And I think it’s going to give the mass market version of your formula that little extra kick that it needs, ya know? Keep the people coming back for more!” 

He let out a bright chuckle, as though he was talking about a cleaning product that was marketed on an infomercial or some kind of great recipe for soup. That was one of the things that scared Jason the most about Crane - his ability to talk about life changing, deadly things with such jarring enthusiasm. He truly thought of bringing people their worst nightmares and their most painful deaths as ‘beautiful work’. 

“What about it?” Jason prodded quietly. 

He knew that Crane hadn’t called him here just to brag about a new idea to add something to the formula. He needed Jason for something. 

Jason just hoped that he wasn’t looking to use him as a guinea pig again. He would likely rather die again than go down the path of heavy drugs. One thing he had vowed - he wouldn’t end up like his mother. 

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. “Due to its highly addictive qualities, Methadone is also a highly regulated substance. But because I am the wonderfully well-connected man that I am, I happen to know that there is a very large stash of it just sitting there, ripe for the taking, in this quaint little building uptown.” 

Jason’s gut stirred with suspicion. 

“Where uptown?” He asked. 

“Well, it’s just-” Crane stuttered, and then sighed, deciding to get it out and over with. “The Wayne Memorial Cancer Research Facility.” 

Jason glared at him. 

“But see, it’s fine! Because I happen to know someone who knows their way around the Wayne Tech security systems very well. So Red Hood breaks in there, gets me my-” 

“No.” Jason said flatly, before he turned and started to walk away. “Find somebody else. We’re done.” 

Crane had threatened to replace him before. Crane had no-so-subtly threatened to kill him alongside being replaced. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Jason would be better off dead. Maybe Crane would find out that Jason was irreplaceable after all. Maybe Jason was a dirty, seedy criminal shaped by life for only one thing: ruining the lives of others. If Jason couldn’t do that, he wasn’t sure what he would do. 

But he wasn’t going to fucking do this. 

Killing was one thing. Stealing from drug dealers and mobsters was another. What he had done to Hank had crossed too many lines - but it didn’t even begin to approach the lines that this crossed. 

Stealing from a facility that Thomas and Martha had set up when Bruce was just a child, shitting all over their legacy, using skills that Bruce had taught him in order to do it? That was too far. Jason couldn’t say that he had morals anymore, but he still had that voice of common decency in the back of his head yelling at him to stop it. Maybe it was your voice, correcting him at every turn the way you used to. 

He should listen to that voice. 

He should leave town. 

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him. 

The pure annoyance that the nickname caused was the only thing that stopped Jason. He considered turning around and shooting Crane just to shut him up. 

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.” 

Jason turned back around then. 

“Nothing you say ever makes any fucking sense.” He barked out, ready to leave Crane with these as his last remarks before he left Gotham forever. 

But then Crane tapped at a few things on his keyboard and pulled something up on the monitor - a dark, grainy video feed that had Jason squinting his eyes and walking closer to get a better look. 

When Jason was able to truly take in the scene - his stomach dropped. 

It was you. 

You were sitting alone in some anonymous, concrete warehouse - probably in the industrial district of Gotham, if Jason had to guess. Crane didn’t like to keep his insurance policies too far away, he liked to play it close to the vest. You were tied to a chair, duct tape tight over your mouth, very much there against your will. You were looking straight ahead, with the camera angled down from the top corner of the room. Even through the grainy, black and white footage, Jason could see the wetness of tears streaking down your face. 

You were terrified. 

Jason’s helmet clattered to the floor, slipping from his grip as the shock overtook his system. 

For the first time in weeks, fighting through the numbness of the drugs and the hazy shock of his new half-life - he was terrified too. Then he was angry. Rage bubbled up inside of him like a sharp, acidic bile. 

“What the fuck have you done?” Jason growled out, the anger setting his jaw so tight that the words could barely escape between his teeth. 

“I told you - every loyal dog gets a treat.” Crane said, a barely contained glee filtering through his voice as he peered over Jason’s shoulder at your weeping face on the screen. 

He clapped a large hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason felt himself nearly choke on his own tongue - so swollen with anger that it barely fit in his mouth. 

“So, go fetch, doggie.” Crane continued. “Go get me what I need. Otherwise, that sweet little treat of yours is gonna play dead.” 

Crane leaned over and whispered those last words into Jason’s ear - and that was what truly caused him to snap. 

In a flash, Jason grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder, whipped Crane around - there was a loud crack as Jason broke Crane’s arm. The egghead types who were working on the formula all paused; some of them gasped or hid behind things, but none of them were brave enough to intervene. Jason shoved Crane’s face into the monitor, cracking it out like a spider’s web but never fully obscuring the image of that dark, cold warehouse - the place where you were alone and terrified. 

He twisted Crane’s broken arm, making a sound like glass grinding in on itself, and the man let out a howl. 

“I think you forget how this works.” Jason barked at him, his voice so dark with rage that it almost sounded like he was wearing Red Hood’s voice modulator even though his helmet was on the floor at Crane’s feet. “When dogs get pissed off - they bite.” 

He twisted the injury again, and Crane let out another bitter howl. 

Jason demanded to know where you were, and Crane squeaked out an address. It was in the industrial district, so it checked out in Jason’s mind. It didn’t seem like a trap or a false answer to waste his time. 

Jason shoved the pathetic, useless man to the ground, kicked him in the gut for good measure, and then leaned down to grab his helmet before shoving it on. He would need it in case Crane had anybody stationed there, guarding you. 

Crane shouted something at him as he walked away, but Jason was barely paying attention - now very singular minded on his mission toward you. 

“You have to learn to play by the rules, Red!” Crane choked out. “You won’t like how this ends! I made you! I fucking made you!” 

… 

Jason was surprised to find the building empty. No guards, seemingly no bombs, no gas canisters. At first, he thought it really was a trick, a misdirect to waste his time. But when he had just about given up hope of finding you, searching one of the back most rooms that used to serve as overflow storage for Ace Chemicals - he found you. Concrete and anonymous, some of the beams having eroded away in places from improper chemical storage. 

When you saw him stalking toward you - his gun drawn, heavy boots thudding against the floor, modulator puffing out heavy, mechanical breaths - you let out a terrified whimper past the duct tape and more tears flowed freely down your face. 

Jason felt a twinge of guilt. Of course. You had no clue it was him. 

Perhaps he could get away with the mercy of never revealing himself to you. He could keep his mask on, release you, drop you back off with the Titans and then leave town. But eventually, Dick would tell you who he was. 

At the very least, he could give you the comfort of seeing a familiar face after the hell you had been through. You were wearing a sweatshirt and simple cotton pants, and running shoes - it looked like you had been plucked off the street during a jogging session. He could only imagine how much Crane’s lackeys had scared you. 

Once he was confident that the area was secure, he holstered his gun and then reached up, removing the face mask from his helmet and tossing it aside. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me.” He told you - attempting to be gentle and soothing in his voice. 

He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be scared as he reached to his belt for a knife - only with the intention to cut the ropes around your torso, wrists, and ankles. 

He watched your expression as you flashed through a range of emotions - deep confusion, a bit of relief, sadness, and then strangely - burning anger. You glared at him with the most intense rage he had ever seen from you - more intense even than the day you had stormed into his room and called him stupid and suicidal for going after Doctor Light without backup. 

Jason was slightly afraid of the lecture that would come next, but nonetheless, he knelt beside you and began cutting you free. 

The minute that one of your hands was free, you reached up and ripped the duct tape off your mouth. You took only a fraction of a second to wince in pain from the tender skin of your lips being disturbed before you began verbally tearing into him. 

“Jason Todd!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, so loudly that Jason was sure some of the edges of the corroded concrete pebbled off and fell down just from this. “Jason fucking Todd! I should have known you had something to do with this!” 

“Wh-?” 

Before Jason could question your odd choice of words or even recognize it as an accusation, you raised your other freshly free hand and slapped him squarely across the cheek - it was a hard, skull-shaking clatter. It had Jason dizzy, falling back onto his ass and dropping the knife before he could finish cutting the ropes around your legs. 

“Fucking ow!” Jason griped, reaching up to grab his now very red cheek. 

“You are such an asshole! Of all the completely idiotic, stupid things you have ever done-” 

“I didn’t fucking kidnap you! Okay? I didn’t do shit!” Jason quickly argued back, finally now realizing that you thought he had put you here in the first place. “I’m here to rescue you!” He said each of these words slowly, looking you in the eyes, hoping that his point would get across more firmly this way. 

There was a tense moment as you stared back at him with your jaw locked. It was likely that if your feet hadn’t still been tied, you would have run away - or kicked him. Jason was thankful that you couldn’t do either at the moment.  

“Why?” You asked, finally breaking the tension. 

“What?” Jason gaped. 

This was the last thing he had been expecting. 

He was saving you - why were you questioning him? 

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?” 

You said the last part with intense disdain, tears dancing in your eyes.

So you did know what a monster he was.  

He was surprised that you hadn’t hit him harder. 

Jason heaved a sigh. He reached over and picked up the knife, very slowly, very tentatively resuming cutting the ropes on your legs to free you. 

“I’m just freeing you so that you can be free. That’s it.” He said quietly, defeat lacing through every inch of his voice. “You don’t deserve this.” 

He cut the last rope and folded the knife, sticking it back in his belt. He stood up then and caught a glimpse of your face - you were wearing the most complex expression he had ever seen. Perhaps confusion, perhaps anger. Maybe somewhere deep in your eyes - hurt. 

He turned and moved to leave, hoping you would simply follow him out of the confusing maze of the building and he wouldn’t have to drag you out kicking and screaming. 

“That’s not an answer.” You told him, your tone sharp and certain - the same tone you always used to correct him. 

Jason whipped back around then, heaving a sigh as he looked at you - standing in the middle of the room now, arms folded over your chest, glaring at him on the spot. Cocky and so sure about yourself. Too damn certain and immobile in your points. Infuriating. 

“Why the fuck do you have to make everything so damn complicated?” Jason shot back, annoyance and dread tight in every inch of him. “Why do you have to interrogate me about every damn thing that I do?” 

“Because you make stupid ass decisions when I don’t.” You easily fired back. “Now tell me: why are you doing this?” 

“Because I wanted to.” Jason huffed. 

“Why?” You prodded again. 

He let out another hot huff, and you didn’t let it go. 

“Come on Jason!” You shouted, increasing in volume as you became more frustrated with his lack of an answer. “You didn’t just develop a conscience all of a sudden! Why did you feel the need to suddenly drop everything and come to my rescue? What makes me different than Hank? What makes me different than-?” 

It was the annoyance grinding on him. It was a combination of your nagging voice, the lack of drugs in his system for the first time in weeks. The rawness of the world ragging on his last good nerve. The sound of your voice putting him in line - exactly where he was supposed to be. The way you reminded him of the truth now more than ever. 

“Because I’m in love with you!” Jason shouted. 

It was almost… angry. It was a declaration that hit you like a whip - more like an insult than something warm and kind. It wasn’t made of sweetness, like some moment from a film with a gentle piano riff wrapped around it. It was real - made of the haunting kind of passion that kept Jason awake at night. 

Your eyes widened. Jason’s breathing stilled as he waited for you to react - to say something. 

“Oh.” Your voice cracked around this syllable, and your eyes danced with more tears. 

Jason felt his own heart crack apart inside of his chest, more terror flooding him. 

He had died with the secret because he had never wanted to live up to the embarrassing vulnerability of confessing it. In the deepest part of his mind, he had lived this horror a thousand times. Him finally creeping out onto the edge of oblivion - speaking those words. Confessing. And then you stabbing him in the heart, rejecting him. 

The reality of it ripped through him so much harder than it ever had in his nightmares. 

Any last tiny piece of his soul that had survived being murdered by the Joker had just been shattered by you. 

“Yeah. Fucking oh.” Jason echoed back, his own tears clutching at his throat. 

Seeing him with that naked vulnerability dancing behind his eyes - it reminded you of the same person who came back from being kidnapped by Doctor Light. It reminded you of the real Jason you had gotten to know. 

In that moment, it all came crashing toward you. You gasped harshly as you could barely breathe around it. 

That hole in your chest had been shaped like a lover - it had been shaped like him. Filled with the pain of letting him get hurt, leaving him alone in Gotham to be murdered by the Joker. Filled with the doubt and confusion of never knowing what could have been between the two of you if you had chased those flirtations a little bit farther. 

And now, he was standing right here in front of you, somehow perfectly alive and well - and there was only one possible thing you could do. 

“Jason.” You gasped out his name, unable to fathom more words. 

Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed both sides of his face, one of them still singed with a burning ache where you had slapped him so hard - and you pulled him into a kiss, hard. 

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. Jason’s hands rushed to embrace you, wrapping around your back and grabbing a needy, possessive handful of your ass while you kept your grip tight on his face, keeping his face forcefully close to your own as you devoured his mouth. 

You felt some of his tears escape - such a rush of emotions making him raw and unable to hold them back, and you moaned pitifully into his mouth as he wetness slipped underneath your palms. Whatever it was - his pain, his pleasure; you would take it. He was all yours now. 

… 

Far off, on the other side of Gotham, Crane chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He had pulled up the camera feed on a separate tablet, seeing as Jason had used his head to crack the monitor. With his broken arm bound in a temporary sling, he used his one good hand to pull something out of a drawer - a remote with a single button. 

“For these violent delights have violent ends,” He recited to himself, still grinning widely as he looked at the two lovers in the grainy, black and white footage. “And in their triumph, die like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume. Even the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, if the taste confounds the appetite.” Crane poised his finger on the button. “Therefore, love moderately.” 

He pressed down, and dissolved into more epic laughter as he watched what came next. 

… 

You were only human, and you could only kiss Jason for a few minutes before your brain demanded oxygen. As much as you hated to pull away from the sweet, bruising sting of his lips, you forced yourself back and immediately took in a sharp breath that turned into a rolling pant - Jason let out a needy whine in protest. 

With his arms holding you so securely and the dizzying heat now flowing through you - you almost didn’t catch it. But it was there, in the background, something steadily present that wasn’t there before. 

Beeping. A small, electronic beeping. 

“Do you hear that?” You asked Jason, squinting your eyes with confusion and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. 

He did hear it. 

“Fuck.” Jason mumbled. 

Panic flooded him. The whole thing had been a trap. 

He pulled away from you hesitantly and grabbed his mask up off the ground, snapping it back on. 

“We have to go. Now.” He told you, his voice now sharp and robotic through the voice filter as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away - you became limp to his direction for once and simply followed, fear tight in your gut once again. 

Jason didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but he knew it could be anything from a large bomb, meant to tear you to shreds, to a large dose of fear gas waiting to be deployed. And he didn’t have an antidote at the moment. He needed to get you out of the building and transport you to safety. 

When the two of you came to a door - one of the many that Jason had passed through on his way in - it snapped shut in Jason’s face. It was on some kind of mechanical locking system, that much was apparent. Jason rushed forward, trying to pry it open - but it was welded steel, and it wouldn’t budge. 

Jason heard more slamming - more metal forcing itself shut on the same locking system. 

“Jason?” You croaked, that unsure terror back in your voice again. Something so rare for you. You were looking to him for answers. You were looking to him to rescue you. 

Overhead, the last bits of light were shut out - glimpses of the street lights outside - as thick metal shudders collapsed down over the windows. The room was sealing itself shut, becoming air tight. 

“Stand back.” Jason told you, not waiting to see if you followed the instruction before he pulled out one of his guns and began shooting at the door’s heavy metal hinges. He knew it was futile and he feared that one of the bullets might ricochet off and hit you, but he didn’t have many options left. 

Then he heard it. The gentle hissing of gas being released into the air. 

Jason was naive to have hoped that it was Crane’s classic Fear Gas - that would have been a merciful walk in the park compared to what he had planned for you. Betraying Jonathan Crane meant that Jason had to be truly punished. 

Jason turned to you, wrapping his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the air itself - but it was too late. You began coughing and struggling to breathe, and Jason looked on with confusion as his chest twisted with guilt. 

With his helmet on, he felt nothing. For the first few moments, he didn’t even understand what was going on as you gasped for air, struggling to form a word as you choked on each breath. Jason had no clue what the substance was or how he could fix it, looking on in horror as thick fog clouded around your ankles - your eyes bulging out of your head as you struggled for oxygen. 

“Y/N?” Jason gasped, holding you by both shoulders as you became weaker and leaned on him. “Y/N?” 

You couldn’t answer him. 

You continued to wheeze, your breath hitching against your throat harshly. As the fog reached up to touch your face, it left angry, blistering marks in your skin. Unlike Jason, you had no armor to protect yourself - and somehow, Crane had turned the air itself acidic. Your eyes became wrecked with bloody red streaks and your face swelled as you continued to choke. 

Jason’s insides screamed, but he felt too still. 

As more of the fog touched you, some of the marks on your neck and your cheek blistered more and opened up, bleeding out pinkish bubbling puss as Jason continued to hold you - he didn’t know what else to do. 

All he could do was hold you. 

A harsh foam seeped out of your mouth as you choked on your last half-breath, and Jason felt a stinging pain consuming him - he wasn’t sure if it was the acidic fog finally breaching through his clothing, or the biting pain of having you limp in his arms - dead, as he huddled there on the floor. 

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.” 

Jason simply wept. And he held you. 

As he looked at the camera feed, Crane smiled. 

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.”

...

A/N: SOOOO obviously this ending leaves us with a lot of questions - did Jason survive? I think this can be interpreted one of two ways: one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next.

Also, if you didn't catch it (or, if you're not a Saw person) - this situation was heavily inspired by the final plot twist trap in Saw X. I love the acidic fog, and I feel like Crane could be a trap guy. The Titans version of Crane could be good friends with John, imo.

Also, if you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

#sundrop writes #jason todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd x gender neutral reader #jason todd x gn!reader #titans fanfiction #dc titans #titans x reader #dc titans fanfiction

[franzkafkagf]

okay so i want to hear about your take on aegon i know you like him and all (so do i no matter how much i wish not to) but whyy

yess thanks for asking, I love being insane about him<3

I think Aegon is such a wildly tragic character– many asoiaf characters are but I'm so drawn specifically to him; he didn't want power or responsibility or the crown. It all was bestowed upon him against his will, and he shouldn't; putting on the crown is his definitive death sentence. The coronation scene has got to be one of my favorites in the season– he is quite literally walking up to be butchered like a sacrificial lamb, there are tears streaking his cheeks in the scene! I love the tragedy of it, the way it couldn't have been avoided anyways; his fate was sealed from the very start! He was quite literally dead from the very beginning.

I'm going off a mix from the book and the show but I actually love what they did with the character in the show? The book version does have some hard-hitting moments from him that are missing ("What sort of brother steals his sister's birthright?") but there wasn't that much there in terms of characterization and relationships. And wow, did they deliver on that in the show; I'm gonna give whoever came up with his mommy issues a forehead kiss.

Because YES! He and Alicent are reflections of one another– Alicent suffered under the heavy boot of Otto, turned into the perfect daughter, turned into the perfect queen for him. She recognizes that this was wrong and abusive of him, then she turns around and does the same thing to Aegon– the poison DOES drip through, the wheel is NOT broken!! It's BRILLIANT.

@atopvisenyashill put a GREAT tag under one of my posts–

#he looks like her and he’s weak like her so why can’t he get strong like her.

While Alicent persevered, Aegon crumbled under the pressure. He is miserable when we meet him– and he should be! He is unfit for the role of king, but it is his destiny nonetheless, everybody tells him so. It destroys him.

It's so sad too and I cannot help but to feel bad for him. No one knows where he is in ep 9, I don't think he has anyone to confide in; it must be lonely. Everybody seems to have written him off already– he is a drunk and a failure at being heir, being a son, being a father. He tries to prove them wrong later, and does in some aspects.

His loneliness plays into another aspect of him that I really love; his desperation to be loved. He will never be enough for anybody, he probably knows it deep down.

"[Aegon is] desperate to be loved but destined to be hated." – Tom Glynn-Carney

Obviously there is the carriage scene with Alicent that shows this. But I also really love the moment in his coronation, where he basks in the people's affection and cheers. He is poised to bleed out in front of the throne, he was crying and fighting for his life not to take the crown just minutes before. But now he's here and they love him and he can't help but love that.

He takes the crown to protect his family (the show does hint at that with Alicent telling him as much in ep. 6– in the book it's much more explicit with Criston pressuring him on the day of the coronation itself) and then his son DIES because of it! And he drinks and rages and drinks some more; he must've blamed himself. He goes to battle, flies too high (figuratively), and he FALLS; he burns and falls to the ground. He isn't made to be king. He knows. He does it anyways.

"You have already written yourself into legend, you survived dragonfire" – Larys Strong in season 2 (probably)

He survives, he is gone for over a year, unable to do anything but he SURVIVES. He escapes the capital, takes Dragonstone, he falls AGAIN, he loses most of his family; but he still goes on. Fueled by what? Maybe anger, or bitterness or just pure lust for revenge. It doesn't matter. He must've realized somewhere on the way that this was always meant to go this way, ever since he put the conqueror's crown on. It doesn't matter.

And then he dies and it's not grand or spectacular or anything like that. He drinks poisoned wine, nobody even sees him die, they only find him after. It's so uniquely lonely.

#hotd #house of the dragon #tom glynn carney #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #hotd meta #aegonposting #alicent hightower #otto hightower #omg now im sad </3 #ales.txt #asks

[punkeropercyjackson]

Related to my prev post:

I don't give two shits if Bruce is written like a bad dad if it means we get good writing for everybody else since i think minorities are more important than a white cishet male nepotism baby unlike his butch lesbian counterpart who's judaism is an actual fundamental part of her character and since he's been written as abusive so consistently over the years it's in-character anyway

Dick can be both bi/pan and demisexual and there's more evidence for the latter than the former so making him be sexually loose is aspec erasure and mspec stereotyping and he dosen't have a thing for redheads,he has a thing for black women and to me the only guy he seems to like romantically is Roy and that adds on to his demisexuality since they're childhood best friends

'Catholic guilt Jason' is a shit headcanon that misses the major and critical part of him being Red Hood that he didn't feel the slightest bit bad about killing people and the point of his redemption was learning remorse,afrolatino Jason isn't based on stereotyping but him filling out so many black and latino cultural aspects and if any hcs for him are stereotyping it's the one that he's a slut because he's a very handsome and hot and cute goth punk man

Tim is perfect the way he is and dosen't need power ups or to get 'punished' for the oh so horrible crime of being a realistic teenage boy,he's not JUST huge a loser or a super cool dude but both at once and it's bad writing and fetishistic to ignore his wide range of relathionships that consists of mostly of women to make him a 'guys guy'

Stephanie is heavily autistic and bpd-coded so she's far from a 'normie',much less an 'it girl' but people see blonde hair and blue eyes and throw away everything else about her because that's all she's worth to them or call her an abuser and a pick me just like they do irl bpdtistic women and she's also canonically pastel/indie punk and a Team Mom but gets her presentation switched to basic and made out to be a womanchild instead

Cass had a million times more moral conflict than Jason ever did,would never in her LIFE wanna be feminine even in the chinese way and would be butch in it instead,turning her scattered speech into sign language is ableist not unlike(but not on the same level as)changing Babs' type of wheelchair disability and she'd be a better Batman than any male character in existense

Duke is only a golden child in the sense he has a yellow motif and is as disruptive and authentically quirky as his siblings,We Are Robin is a better team than the canon Outlaws,his powers are cooler than any Al-Ghul ones you could come up with,he has more femme energy than Tim does and Carrie Kelley ain't shit and only gets brought back to replace him because DC is antiblack

Damian's introduction mentality was a result of not only child abuse but also psychological grooming to get him to dehumanize himself and all his bigoted comments are explained either by him being like 12 or his writers trying to demonize brown people and anybody who thinks he's a bad person is a super-sized pissbaby with no sympathy for kids of color,shipping him with Jon is making a bisexual man into a ped0phile and Jay is good even if aging Jon up wasn't and he should be friends with Maya,Suren,Nell,Colin,Kathy,Maps,Tai and Miles,Gwen,Peni,Pavitr,Hobie and Margo from Atsv and Nico and Hazel from Pjo instead of Billy Batson or Danny Fenton or ANY Mcu characters

Talia is super hot but should be drawn in accurate arab clothes instead 'sexy assasian gear'(not that these two can't co-exist but you get what i mean),her personality is extremely rich and her stories are mega interesting,she's a good mom to Damian and literally never 'took advantage of Jason' seeing as That Scene In Lost Days was decanonized by it's writer who said it was ooc for her on his part,she should've been a mom figure to Stephanie in her Robin Days too since they would get along and she deserved her own run where she takes over Lexcorp to transform it into a force for good and become Superfam-adjacent to free herself from having only male connections

#batfam #batfanon slander #anti bruce wayne #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #duke thomas #damian wayne #talia al-ghul #dickkory #dickbabs #dickbea #dickhelena #dickroy #afrolatino jason supremacy #autistic stephanie brown #bpd stephanie brown #butch cassandra cain #batman!cass #trans duke thomas #autistic duke thomas #jon kent #jay nakamura #pro jonay #taliacorp #misc superfam #blasian stephanie brown #summerposting

[penultimate-step]

Love, Lies, and Romance: The 3 Ships of Oshi no Ko and 3 Thematic Resolutions

Oshi no Ko is a series deeply concerned with what it means to love and be loved. Ai's wish to love is what starts off the series; her love for her children, and their love for her in return, form the emotional fulcrum upon which the whole manga turns.

Romantic love, too, is a type of love. Aqua's three possible romantic relationships each represent three different interpretations of how to love, and how those relationships are treated is a reflection of how the series views those kinds of love.

For organization's sake, I'll go down the list in order of what I judge as least to most likely to occur in the manga itself.

Ruby - Love is Lies

I've already written a longer meta about this, but to summarize the relevant parts: Ruby, as depicted in chapters 77 to 142, doesn't understand Aqua, nor Gorou. She instead loves him for the image she's constructed of him in her head, for the way he makes her feel - but this has very little to do with the man himself. Her view on Aqua is, in my opinion, a direct parallel to Aqua's view of Ai - she puts him on a pedestal, idolizes him, but that same impetus is what has her mentally keeping a distance from his real self. You can see this all the way back in chapter 77. When she thinks of him, she first thinks of how he made her feel:

Now, this isn't on it's own a red flag, but it is contrasted directly afterward: when asked to predict his own actions and feelings, she's hilariously off:

I think many readers kind of wrote this off as a joke at the time, but this kind of thing lines up perfectly with her behavior in the movie arc. Not only is she inventing a backstory for him (does Gorou ever show romantic interest at all? Why would she assume he was in trouble with girls?) but more importantly she interprets his kind rejection as a tease, and his care to a friend and patient as romantic intent.

A version of the story in which Ruby is Aqua's love interest would literally validate Ai's famous quote, that lies are love - that the person doesn't matter, only how they make them feel does. And that is directly contrasted by, uh. The whole rest of the manga. But to pick a specific scene, see C9:

The kind of love where one person projects on another, the manga has shown us again and again, the kind of love that is lies, results in this. It cannot end happily, for anybody. If Ruby and Aqua end up dating for real, my next bet is that the story ends in tragedy, because that's the only end for that kind of love in Oshi no Ko.

Akane - Love is Lying

To Akane, love is an act - a lie. But hear me out, this is markedly different from Ruby's position. Akane, I think, is actually the closest of the main characters to Ai's mindset. She doesn't feel that she understands love, but she wants it, so she actively cultivates an image of herself that can show love. We know this well, of course, given her actions at the end of LoveNow. She creates a persona of love in chapter 28, much like Ai describes in 4.

And believes that regardless of the artificiality of it, she can keep up the act forever: to earn love through the act is to earn it in reality.

So you may be asking: what is the difference between what Akane is doing, and what Ruby is doing? Well, the difference is in the intention. It is not the lies that are the important part, but the lying - neither Akane nor Ai felt they knew how to love, but their desire to love, their care for others, that was all real love. The performance they put on for others was not an impersonal pedestal, but an active effort done for another's sake. It may be lying, but it is an act of love nonetheless.

If Aqua/Akane was the endgame ship of Oshi no Ko, it would be a simultaneous validation and rejection of Ai's worldview. Yes, if you care enough, lying can be love, if you are willing to forge that connection. But, in this paradigm, Ai's mistake was lying one-sidedly, to a faceless crowd. The crowd cannot return your love, not in a way other than idolization, and we discussed how that turns out in Ruby's entry. Akane's relationship, on the other hand, is much less one-sided and unhealthy, because she lies for Aqua's sake alone, and doesn't hide that she's doing it. As such, her performance can be recognized and appreciated as such, and he can reach back and return her love.

As such, while the lying is a performance, their relationship isn't a lie. The two of them start to see each other's real selves. The dynamic of two people who don't really understand love or how to love, performing a relationship together until they can learn how to do it together, is a sweet one. I could actually totally see this as the main relationship of Oshi no Ko.

But the actions of the characters make clear what the issue is in this kind of love. The seeds of this breakdown are set in chapter 72, which is ironically one of the ones that sets the dynamic up - even as they are trying to create an equal relationship, Akane decides to lie to him for his own good. After all, their relationship has already been established on the basis of lies. To lie for someone else's sake is inherently a one sided choice, and while in chapter 28 we can see it as a cute start to a relationship, it comes back around in a much more harmful way here:

which pays off in their grand breakup in chapter 98. Akane is willing to one-sidedly make the choice to kill Hikaru for Aqua's sake. Aqua, in return, refuses to let her make that choice, tracking her position, then stopping her and cutting her off for her own safety. While Akane is the one who calls him out for this, neither of them are treating the other as someone with agency, and both are making choices for the other. As such, in Oshi no Ko, lying cannot be love - you cannot impose your love on another.

Kana - Love is Sincerity

Kana, differently than Ruby and Akane, is defined in her moments of honesty and sincerity. She is an actress, yes, but even her acting is a kind that emphasizes her true self. There's too many pages to post here, but chapters 60-63 talk all about this directly - her modern acting is about hiding herself in order to aid others, but her best acting is when she ignores everybody else and acts to her heart's desire.

This same sincerity is what forms the basis of the Aqua/Kana ship. Unlike the two above ships, which are on some level founded on artifice, many of the moments between Kana and Aqua are focused on moments where they are each acting as their truest selves. Chapters where they interact, like 30 and 117, show that they both have an easy rapport, acting thoughtlessly and honestly. Chapter 40 points this out directly: Kana has the ability to draw Aqua out of his depressed and overthinking mindset, letting him be his unrestrained self.

This is similar to Ai's own actions in chapter 4. Though she normally puts on a facade and acts out love for the cameras and crowds, the one moment that she is truly recognized as smiling is the moment she accidentally lets slip, and shows true love for her children:

As such, Aqua/Kana serves as a complete repudiation of Ai's mindset. She was wrong that one can lie to love. The only way to love is to be honest, the only time she was able to honestly express love was the moment she died, when she was able to tell her children she loved them. If you aren't sure how to love, you must reach out honestly and you will find it. No act or performance can be love, no matter how well meant.

If this is the ship the manga ends on, which it could be, the message would be that love is in baring oneself to others. Hiding from others with lies, even when well intentioned, like Aqua does to Kana before chapter 107, is a mistake, and to love truly you need to face up to your own feelings and see the other person directly.

Finale

So, what does this all mean? It means that the romantic love demonstrated in the three ships are unavoidably intertwined with the story's ideas about love as a whole. However, his isn't necessarily a foolproof prediction of what the author plans to do next, or what ship the story endorses. Though obviously I think some of these are much more supported by the series than others, until we reach the end it is still possible that things will change, and it could go with any of these, or none of them. This is merely the lens in which I interpret the romantic interactions in the text.

In fact, it's entirely possible that the series ends with no romantic resolution at all, rejecting all three above views on love. After all, while the romantic relationships are undeniably important to the narrative, the love that started this whole story was Ai's familial love for her children - thus, I wouldn't be surprised if platonic love between family and friends will be the most important in resolving it. In any case, the question of how to love is a key part of the series, and will have to be resolved by the story's end.

#oshi no ko #ruby hoshino #akane kurokawa #kana arima #ai hoshino #aqua hoshino #step.effortpost #step.animanga #step.blogger

[ladykailitha]

Can Anybody See Me? Part 17

Fuck, guys, I don’t even know what this story is even doing at this point. I’m on part 18 and it does NOT want to wrap up. Like at all. It wants to go on forever and I don’t know how to stop it. It MIGHT be 20 parts. It might be 50 at this point. Who the hell knows? Not this poor belabored author that’s for sure.

Anyway...so this part is a little on the sad side. We get more of Eddie’s backstory. And a little bit of bitchy Steve to lighten it up at the end.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

*

It wasn’t until Steve was getting ready for school the next morning that he found he had left the comic at Eddie’s.

He was throwing homework in his bag when he realized it felt lighter than it should.

He unpacked it slowly and set everything out on his bed. He stood there looking at his stuff, hands on his hips for a moment before it dawned on him.

Shit.

The comic book. After he had finished all the pages he had painstakingly put them together in comic book form. He even designed the cover. Then took them to copying store and got it bound like a real comic book.

The kid at the shop was impressed with how well the pages were mapped out.

But it wasn’t in his stuff he had pulled from his bag. Which meant one thing. Eddie had it.

It was fine. No need to panic. He had written for Eddie. He was meant to read it.

So why was he freaking out?

Oh, only because Steve didn’t want him to read it until after the school play. Hell Steve’s nerves were already shot with the three additional performances Steve wasn’t planning on having to do. But adding Eddie knowing about the Upside Down? It made him vaguely ill.

Fuck what if he did throw up from nerves? He’d never done it before, but then again, he’d never performed in front other people before either. He was a literal mess.

He packed away all his things carefully and prayed to whatever supreme being that was out there for a merciful death on his way to school.

*

Eddie had stayed up the whole night reading Steve’s comic. Personally, he thought that the story was good, the characters were interesting and the monsters were frightening enough.

It wasn’t until he got the final page of the comic where Steve’s afterword was.

Unlike the rest of it where it was professionally done, the last page had a carefully glued on piece of paper. So this was clearly something that Steve didn’t want other people to see.

And Eddie would have respected that if it hadn’t been addressed to him directly.

“Eddie-

So there you have it. The start of my trauma. And yes this is only the start. The real story began with a missing boy and a cover up so large it frightens me. But that was never my story to tell. This is my story. This is where it truly began for me.

Well. That’s not quite true. It started with a girl and a swimming pool. A tragedy that should have been mine. But that night I was so intent on getting laid that I let it happen. Barb deserved better than me. She should have lived and I died.

I don’t know why I lived. Maybe it was because I was needed to protect those closest to me. That’s all I thought I was good for. Dying in a blaze of glory protecting those I hold most dear. And then I met you.

God, Eddie, you make me want to live. For the first time in my miserable existence I found people who like me for me. And not just because I was needed. To protect. To defend. To die. For them.

And then you came along and protected me. Defended me. I don’t think anyone has ever done that for me before.

Just do me one favor. Peel out this insert. Throw it away. Burn it. I don’t care. Just as long as you are the only one that sees it. I don’t want you in danger. But I needed you know this side of me.

The boy with the bat. The boy who never knew what love really was until he met you.

-Love Steve”

Eddie choked back tears and place a hand to his trembling lips. If Steve had really gone through all that. If even a fraction of it was true. Even if none of it was. That was still the most beautiful love letter he had ever seen. And it was addressed to him.

Shit.

Tears rolled down his face as he read the letter again and again. After the seventh or eighth read he finally did what Steve requested and peeled the letter out of the last page of the comic. He folded it carefully and crawled under his bed.

Buried underneath of the mess was a simple black lockbox. He set it gently on his bed and then went to his dresser. He slid out the bottom drawer and jiggled the bottom until a small key fell out onto the floor.

He picked the key up and sat on his bed. He unlocked the box and placed the key between his lips for safe keeping.

Inside the box were all the things Eddie didn’t want other people to see. The couple of birthday cards his dad had sent him from prison. His mom’s suicide note.

Not even Wayne had seen that one. No one knew but Eddie that she had taken her own life. He had seen her life insurance policy and knew it wouldn’t pay out if they thought it was intentional. So accidental overdose was what was on her death certificate.

Eddie had been her sole beneficiary and it was placed in trust until he turned twenty-one. He was going to use it fund the band and get the hell out of Hawkins. He just had to make that far.

The paperwork for the trust was in there too. Wayne had offered to hold on to it for him but at the time Eddie didn’t trust anyone and giving that up felt like too much.

His birth certificate was in here too. Well a copy of it anyway. Wayne had the original, but Eddie liked knowing he had a copy too. In case he needed to get away fast.

Also in here was a portion of the money he had made from dealing drugs. He told Reefer Rick, no meth and no cocaine. Mainly weed and mushrooms, with a small smattering of the harder drugs. He had set aside ten percent of his earnings as an emergency fund. In case he needed it.

The last thing that was in there was a picture of his mom. She’s sitting on the swings next to Eddie and smiling into the camera as Eddie laughs gleefully. Just out of frame was his dad who had been pushing him on the swing. It was the last moment of happiness Eddie had before Lawrence Munson got into selling and doing drugs. Had got his wife, Edie addicted. Before Larry had got himself arrested in Texas and Eddie was sent to go live with Wayne.

He placed the love letter on top and closed the box. He locked it back up and set everything to rights. He looked at the alarm clock and groaned when the bright red numbers glared back him. It was 4:57am.

Fuck.

Eddie was supposed to be up in an hour for school. Yeah. That wasn’t happening today. He flopped on the bed and threw his arms out. He thought about the comic and what was inside it. He remembered Steve telling him that he had changed it so unless you were there that day you wouldn’t recognize the events. But even with that it felt...well, it felt like he was being let in on secret if he was honest. A big one.

He looked over at the clock again and it was almost six. He sighed and got up. He grabbed the stuff he needed for his shower and ducked into the bathroom. The last thing he needed this morning was Wayne seeing him still in the clothes he wore the night before.

He showered quickly and got out before Wayne had even turned on the coffee pot. He was dressed and ready for school before the pot had finished brewing.

Wayne handed him a cup of coffee and raised an eyebrow at him.

“What do you want, old man?” Eddie groused. He wasn’t in the mood for small talk considering he was running on fumes.

“You were up all night reading that comic, weren’t you?” Wayne said and took a long sip of his coffee.

Eddie sighed. He should have known better than to think that Wayne wouldn’t catch him at it. After all this was the man who had been catching him reading books at three o’clock in the morning since he was twelve.

“It’s Steve’s.”

“I didn’t know he read comic books,” Wayne said almost an echo of what he said the night before.

“As in he wrote and drew it,” Eddie clarified.

Wayne’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s a pretty talented boy you got there, Eddie.”

Eddie blushed. “I know. This was the story he was originally going to tell for his art class. Seniors in ART 4 had to do an eight page comic book for their winter finale. Steve started doing this one, but the teacher flipped out and threatened to call his parents because it was ‘too scary’ or some other dumb shit.”

“So he completed it anyway and turned in something else?” Wayne supposed.

Eddie nodded. “He told me he was going to finish it so that I could read it.”

Wayne hummed. “Do you think he left it here on purpose? So that you would read it without having to physically hand it to you?”

Eddie tilted his head and looked up thoughtfully. He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I think Steve would have wanted to explain it to me.” He hung his head. “I shouldn’t have read it without that permission, but you know me.”

“I don’t think I would have been able to resist reading something that was meant for me either,” Wayne said, nodding.

Eddie drank the rest of his coffee and kissed his uncle on the cheek. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Bring that boy yours with you,” Wayne said. “I’m making my lasagna tonight, and I want him over for dinner.”

Eddie grinned. “You got it, old man.”

He was out the door and driving off before Wayne could even shake his head. Wayne loved that boy and if he was really lucky he would get another sweet boy out of this deal.

*

Steve was standing nervously at the door to the math hall because it was closest to the parking lot, chewing on his thumb nail. He knew he shouldn’t chew on his nails, but his nerves were shot to hell.

But the bell rang and there was still no sign of Eddie. So after a moment or so of indecision Steve gave up and went to class.

He spent this first class of the day fidgeting with his pencil, tapping against whatever surface was in reach. The desk, his book, his lips, his hand.

Finally the teacher had enough.

“Mr Harrington!” she barked.

Steve looked up at her in shock. “Yes, Miss Davis?”

“Do you have some hot date tonight that you’re nervous about or something?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest as she stared him down.

Steve looked at her blankly.

“Your pencil, Mr Harrington,” she explained tersely.

He looked down at the pencil. “No, Miss Davis. I didn’t even realize I was doing it. I’ll stop.”

Miss Davis pursed her lips. “See that you do.”

Steve tried finding less obvious ways to work through his nerves and then it hit him. He pulled out his drawing pad and began to doodle.

“Mr Harrington,” Miss Davis called out again some time later. “Would you please pay attention in my class?”

Steve blinked up at her. “You were talking about the Spanish forced colonization of South America, weren’t you?”

A couple of the kids in the class giggled.

Miss Davis turned red from the embarrassment. “Carry on.”

Steve gave her his lop-sided goofy grin.

Part 18  Part 19  Part 20  Part 21

Tag List: @shrimply-a-menace @strangersteddierthings @throwbackthrowaway @novelnovella @cursedfoxteeth @babyblender @garden-of-gay @anaibis @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steve-the-hairrington @winterbuckwild @spectrum-spectre @matchingbatbites   @thing-a-ling @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @artiststarme @sundead  @nelotegreitic @gregre369 @butterflysandpeppermint @thedragonsaunt @kodaik97 @messrs-weasley @scarletzgo @deadlydodos @renaissan-vvitch @evix-syne666 @emly03 @justforthedead89 @ashwinmeird @huniibee @phantypurple @stevesbipanic @shucks-yuckyuck @lovelyscot @awkwardgravity1 @bookbinderbitch @reportinglivefromsoda @jinxjinn @chasinggeese @be-the-spark-bitch @kohlraedirectioner @cr0w-culture @xjessicafaithx @whimsicalwitchm @jaywhohasthegay @estrellami-1 @dangdirtydemons @howincrediblysapphicofyou @the-redthread 

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #canon divergence #the boy with the bat #ladykailtiha writes

[antianakin]

While I thought these two episodes were quite interesting and fun and good quality for this show, they also just further prove that the show absolutely sucks and has no reason to exist.

These two episodes were so clearly PLOT HEAVY episodes, this wasn't just filler. This was discussing the fate of the clones, defeated a major villain in the show, and brought in several major characters for cameos. All of this is generally stuff that would only happen in major plot heavy episodes, not filler.

But none of it had a lick to do with the main characters. None of it.

All of our main characters have left the GAR, so whether the clones remain troopers or not has zero effect on them and they don't give a flying shit about regular clones anyway so what do they care about the fates of their much-hated "regs." The main characters have exactly no stakes in this storyline at all.

The villain's defeat doesn't really come about because the mains have any vested interest in bringing him down. They're brought in by the two cameo characters to help THEM defeat the villain. The main characters are tools in this endeavor, but not the instigators of it. They don't have any real emotional connection to his defeat that we ever get to see.

And none of the main characters actually grow or change because of the events of this episode except for Echo, who ends up LEAVING and is getting indefinitely written off the show as a result. And that choice doesn't even have anything to really do with the actual plot of the episodes, but just because he meets Rex who mentions he's out saving other clones sometimes which is something Echo finds appealing. Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Omega are all effectively exactly the same at the end of this as they were at the beginning.

And Echo's leaving isn't even sad. The music tells me I should be sad, but they've never built up a real relationship between Echo and anybody else on the show. And aside from Omega, no one even seems all that upset to see him go in THIS episode, but Omega's had all of about 2 real scenes with Echo across 1.5 seasons, so it doesn't feel all that impactful.

The episodes were GOOD, but they weren't good because it had anything to do with the actual main characters of this show. They were good because it dealt with characters I ACTUALLY cared about (clones in general, Bail, Rex, Riyo) doing stuff that dealt with bigger issues that impact the galaxy and larger groups of people. The events of this episode have long-lasting implications for the worldbuilding, it fleshes out Riyo as a character, it shows us what Bail was like as an Imperial Senator and the thin line he had to walk. We got to see the aftereffects of the attack on Kamino, but the people actually impacted by this weren't the main characters, but the real clones, Riyo Chuchi, and Halle Burtoni (of all fucking people).

The episodes that deal with really interesting plot-heavy material are never interesting BECAUSE of the main characters, they're almost always SIDE characters in someone else's plot-heavy story because the main characters are entirely removed from it all. They never had connections to anybody more involved in the main story and are given personalities that mean they actively do not care about doing anything interesting with the main storyline. All they can do is stay static and throw out running gags every so often when they go on random adventures (Wrecker hates heights, Tech is a perfectionist, etc). But they don't grow. They can't.

This show is at its most interesting when it looks at almost literally anybody else BUT the main characters. It's at its most meaningful and impactful when it moves away from putting its main characters center stage and just lets them be side characters to someone else's story instead.

#anti tbb #tbb wank #star wars

[eastgaysian]

do you think that a lot of s4 critique (esp on tumblr) is coming from the tomgreg “field”? bc i mean - they all seem very disappointed with the way this season is playing out and, without meaning to be patronizing, i’d say unmet expectations like that can cloud (or at least colour) one’s general opinion on a piece of media immensely. we’ve all had it happen to us in some way at some point, so i get it but also…don’t shit in everyone’s müsli just bc a specific relationship didn’t happen in the way you’d envisioned :( alsooo tomshiv is much gayer than tomgreg could have ever hoped to be idc idc

it's something i've been avoiding saying directly, because it feels slightly dickish, but We Can All See With Our Eyes that there is a correlation between people heavily invested in tomgreg and people who are expressing dissatisfaction with s4. it's also fairly obvious that i stopped giving a shit about tomgreg over the course of the year+ of getting harrassed and finally getting my blog terminated for expressing mild criticism wrt patterns of misogyny in fandom. which i think entitles me to a little bit of dickishness.

the thing is, you can have whatever opinion on a show you want for whatever reason you want. it's fine to say you're disappointed in the relative lack of tom and greg this season, because that's what you were personally invested in. your emotional response to the season is your emotional response. full stop. a big part of why i've been enjoying this season so much is because i started watching this show after my dad died, and it's very cathartic for me to watch such a realistic and thoughtful depiction of grief in all its messiness and complexity. i'm connecting to these characters more than ever because i've been there. that's personal! that's subjective! that's okay!

what irritates me is: a) being disingenuous about the reason you dislike the season, b) in a way that implies disliking the season is the 'correct' opinion to have, either on a moral basis or because this season is objectively and uniquely bad writing/directing/editing, c) to the extent that it creates a noxious and unpleasant fan environment to participate in.

i understand where the urge comes from to defensively say "no, it's not just about my businessman yaoi, there is actually a high-minded, intellectual reason for me to spend all my time bitching." because yeah, there are people who are delighted to go fuck you anyone who cared about tom and greg, you were watching the show wrong, and that's aggravating.

deliberately misrepresenting your opinion as something with a more "rational" basis doesn't make you any better off, because it's laughably obvious when that's what you're doing, and it undermines your initial position, which was not inherently invalid in the first place. it's fine to be sad that the thing you personally wanted to happen did not happen. you can say that. you can call people dicks for being rude about it. it's fine. it's literally okay. we are all just saying shit online.

but you are just not going to be able to convince me that season 4 is overall badly written, or that it suffers from unique mechanical issues that were not already present throughout the show. it's not going to happen! d*sha redscare was literally in s3! the fact is that in a season where logan dies in episode 3, and if anybody tries to say that was a bad writing decision you know they're pulling it out of their ass, it simply Is Not Possible for tom and greg (who barely had a relationship with logan and so has fuck all to do in the wake of his death) to spend 15 minutes an episode engaging in slapstick routines. is it an awkwardly truncated storyline? maybe! but succession is littered with those, and that's because it makes the choice to prioritize its main story, which in s4 is more focused and thoughtfully written than ever.

i won't even touch on the queerbait discourse because i do not think queerbait has ever been a useful term and the idea of trying to apply that kind of analysis to succession is too idiotic to even bother engaging with. the virgin representationcel vs the chad [i will not talk about my politics on tumblr but i am a trans fag of color deeply disillusioned with most of the discourse on 'representation']. representation win! the chair of fictional fox news cheated on his wife with her cousin #gayrights. Be serious.

#mingbox #long post

[boxofbonesfic]

but PoC are too far outside of your lived experience?/

I'm sending this on anon because people are psycho and I don't want to get doxxed, but this discourse over the last few days has had me laughing and rolling my eyes. The excuses people are coming up with to avoid being inclusive are hilarious.

First of all, Bones, I heart you, and I'm so glad I came across your page.

Let me tell you my secret. I write for Stucky. I'm a relatively 'popular' author for them on Ao3. I've gotten some really great reviews on my stories and I cherish every one. You know what's funny? I'm not a white male gay supersoldier. Never been. Not yesterday, not today, and probably not tomorrow. I am literally the opposite of every word I've written in that sentence. And it hasn't made a damn difference. The issue of my race has never even come up between me and my readers, and why would it?

Someone once commented that one of my stories was the best thing they'd ever read, and that shit hit different, because all I did was sit down and write stories from the heart. I'm not saying this to brag AT ALL. I'm not trying to be obnoxious. I'm just saying that writing characters who are opposite to me in every conceivable way was just something I was able to do out of love and respect for the craft, and love and respect for people of all stripes. I didn't need to live their experience.

I've never been a white man in love with his best guy in an era when they'd be jailed or worse if they got caught fooling around in their dusty little apartment. I've never had the unique heartbreak of not being recognized by the love of my life as he tries to shoot me in the face, or the grief of regaining my memories and knowing I tried to kill the person I'd have laid my life down for in a heartbeat.

You don't need to look like me in order for me to embrace you and try to do you justice on the page. I don't think I'm some saint or some special unicorn for this. I'm not special. I wholeheartedly think anybody could do it. All I did was try, and somehow it's been working out. So I'm having a really hard time grasping that people don't even want to try to write anything outside their own lived experience. If you all simply don't want to write for people who don't look like you, just say so.

“All I did was try”

THANK YOU.

#it’s literally so fucking simple it hurts #JUST TRY #you will fuck up! but you will also GET BETTER!

[jjmaiam]

for anybody that needed this I translated this video of Chuck's voice actor in English.

https://youtu.be/QmsFazwIViA?si=TH7nKvGCdXYMY-Nt

i didn't write everything they said and i didn't translate it literally! I'm not English so it's not gonna be perfect!

it was summarized a bit to not make it too long.

@itsmalachitenow

Ferre (the youtuber): welcome guys to the video, today we're back with brawl stars. We're here with someone you would never expect. First of all, can I ask your name? Nicola(Chuck's voice actor): Nicola F: Nicola, can you make us understand why you're here with a quote? Nicola: Eccomi, il maestro! (here I am, the maestro) F: I'm really excited Nicola: me too, me too F: it's the first time I ever talked with a brawler's voice actor! Nicola Because it's the first brawler to be Italian, so they chose a native Italian and here I am! F: You also did some English voice lines. N: exactly. Some of the members of the brawl stars production love Italy so they've wanted for a long time to add a Italian character. Our national pride! It's the first time this has happened! F: you basically explained to me that you had a friend that played brawl? N: I have a friend that plays a lot of brawl stars, not like me that I had it installed on my phone for some years but… F: so you know brawl stars N: yes, I know some things, sometimes I played it some years ago. But I didn't know what I dubbed! F: I'll leave you some time to introduce yourself N: Well, I've been a professional voice actor for five years now, in home studio. I tried to, let's say "knock on doors" to get into this job. But then Covid started and all of those "doors" closed. 30yo, with a little kid, I had to start with home studio. Obviously you can't do everything because you need people physically and on the studio at home you do everything and it becomes more difficult. Soon I'm gonna be 36 and I started at 30 to continue this passion that I had since I was a kid. When I was little I always played with the recorders or sometimes I took apart pc's, and thanks to that I have some manual skill. In chuck's case it was my first experience with a live direction with a person that was kilometers away from me. F: I'll leave everything Nicola does in the description! N: I particularly remember chuck's dubbing experience because I did that the 15 of august in the morning. F: other than having an iconic voice, you also need a crazy voice control to do all those different tones! N: and I have a cold! well, when you have to do certain things you need to be able to do them in any physical conditions. I also did for many years theater, when I was 20 I started voice acting thanks to a man that did documentaries. He made me record this and I remember he payed me so I understood that this was a job, what I did as a game, for passion, was actually a job! Well one day one of my friends told me that I was in your video and made me watch. there I understood what I actually dubbed! most of the times I don't know what I'm dubbing! F: if any of you guys recognize his voice in a game or anything tell us N: yes! it would also help me making a more public portfolio. F: your voice changes from character to character, it wouldn't be easy to recognize you N: oh it wouldn't be easy, they're all different. In chuck's case there was a mass selection of speaker and Italian voice actors, 70 people answered. there was a mini description of who was chuck, basically there was written that he is an Italian train conductor and ex orchestra "maestro" and there was this project called" voice character Chuck" I didn't have any other information, the only other information other than the script and the name was a YouTube video of Alex Brightman, he's an American actor that also did the musical of Beetlejuice, and he explained how he did his vocal characterization. doing chuck was pretty fast and the director told me how much he liked Italy

i just realized that half of it is gone.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Basically at the end of the video he makes some voice lines and takes lines of other brawlers (Bull Carl and Mortis) so if you want to hear him go at the minute 17:25 of the video.

he also makes a joke that trains in italy are slow.

#chuck brawl stars #brawl stars #brawl stars chuck

[a-local-idiots-shitpost]

Wildcard#3 Mephistopheles with an Angel!Mc

this piece belongs to this and has 885 Words and just saying I´m not to confident with the new characters, I feel like this turned into kinda angst?

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

as much a Mephistopheles would love to lie and say he never would have expected to fall in love with somebody that isn´t a Demon would be a lie because as soon as he saw the annoying pile of feathers who is supposed to be the fourth exchange student from the Celestial Realm, he already developed a fondness for them and the longer he knew them the harder he fell for them

the worst of all was not only are they a fellow fan of Horses but they not only ran into his little Brother but also managed to impress him enough for his little Brother to ask him if he knows who they are and he hates the fact that his little Brother already like somebody Mephistopheles is interested in, which makes it even harder for him to act like he isn´t interested in them at all

and every time he sees them be nice towards somebody it get´s somehow even worse but it will never get so bad that he would tell them about his feelings, he won´t because who knows what others would think but them existing just makes it seem like nothing of this would ever matter… but! he won´t let such silly thoughts ruin his image a Demon of his social standing getting together with a Fallen Angel would be bad enough but an Angel? he doesn´t even want to imagine what it could mean for him and his family if anything were to happen and somebody would find out

and speak of the Angel and they shall appear, they waltzed into the Classroom with no care in the world they don´t even care they are to late for their project

he doesn´t know why but Diavolo asked Mephistopheles to stay after class and to meet Mc here because they need in Alchemy and were to shy to ask him personally and of course they would be! he is one of the best in his class after all and everybody should be happy to receive his help

“you´re late especially rude because I´m supposed to help you” they looked at him with confusion, don´t tell him they already forgot, this always happened with this ad- he means annoying pile of Fluff

“late for what? Diavolo just said somebody is waiting here to tell me something” he was shocked there is no way Diavolo tricked him? right? Right of course not they just don´t want to admit their shortcomings typical of them “Diavolo told me to help you study Alchemy but if you continue acting stupid you can just fail” they just seemed even more confused “but I´m good with Alchemy I´m literally the best in my grade”

“you must have no Pride at all to keep lying so blatantly to my face” now they are just annoyed at his antics, it´s clearly written in their face and they rummaged around their bag and pulled out a piece of paper and shoved it into his hands “look there it is blood on paper I´m the best in my grade” they looked a bit smug at this but he didn´t notice because what they said was true they were class best but why else would Diavolo ask him to get here into an empty Classroom with somebody he might fan…

Mephistopheles just now noticed that his interested in the Angel must have been a lot more obvious than he would have hoped it might have been is even Diavolo decided to get him together with them

“what´s with the look? You look like you just swallowed and entire lemon?” he couldn´t even hear them because he´s far more worried about who else might have heard

“there is no way anybody else could know, who knows what would happen if it comes out that I a Noble would fall for an Angel, worst of all one who matches me almost perfectly”

“ehm… Mephisto?” he still couldn´t hear them “no no I must be mistaken maybe Diavolo just mixed them up with another student, granted it would be a massive coincidence that it was the Angel he fancies but yes it mu-”

“Meph do you realize you are talking out aloud? because I just heard everything”

…

he feels like dying right now, he spiraled so far that he didn´t even notice that he just said this in front of the last person he would have ever wanted to hear this, they gave him a sympathetic look

“uh I think you have a bunch to unpack right now so I uh should just leave but before I go” they packed him by the shoulders and forced him to look into their eyes “listen I´m not trying to tell you how to life your life but in my honest opinion you should just be honest with yourself and do what you want and not just what is expected of you from others”

they left and he just stood there shocked not alone form embarrassment and the fact they were so close to him but also by what they said, it might take a while but he will keep their worse in mind and next time he blurts out his feelings it will be on purpose and somewhere much better and fitting to something so important

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfiction #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me mephistopheles #mephistopheles x reader #mephistopheles x mc

[bloodgulchblog]

This isn't an ask game, but here are some Spartan-II-focused questions you can use for fleshing out Halo OCs, written cause a pal was trying to do that:

What job skill was your character best at? (Personal best. It doesn't have to be something they're better than literally anybody at. For example: Kelly might be the fastest, but there's always a second fastest.)

What job skill was your character the worst at? (Spartans are hypercompetent and unusually good at a lot of things, but what would they definitely not be put in charge of?)

Does your character prefer to be in charge, or do they tend to hang back and let someone else take control of a situation? Are there situations where the answer is different?

What was your character like when they were in a normal environment as a six year old? Likes and dislikes? Future grown-up job dream? Favorite hobby?

How did your character react to the first weeks of Spartan training?

As your character grew, what did they come to think of their job/the UNSC? Do they believe in what they were taught? Did they ever become cynical about it? If they did, what caused them to start to doubt? If they didn't, what beliefs are they holding onto to justify what happened to them?

Aside from Spartan candidates who died in augmentation, when was the first time your character lost another Spartan they were friends with? (It can be Sam. It doesn't have to be Sam, though.) How did they cope?

The UNSC started admitting the Spartan-IIs existed in 2547, in an effort to improve morale. How did that feel?

People assume the wrong thing about Spartans all the time. What was a moment where someone made a casual remark to your character that made no sense to them because they haven't had a normal life?

Picture a situation where your character's presence is making another person uncomfortable and nervous. Who? Why? How does your character feel about being reacted to this way?

Your character has been given a medal for an exemplary deed they performed in battle. How do they feel at the award ceremony?

Which is worse? Someone dying because they're protecting you, or someone dying because you tried to protect them and you failed?

How does your character hide that their upbringing wasn't normal?

Tell us about a time your character wished they had more time to get to know someone they never saw again.

Covenant species they hated fighting the most.

Worst vehicle.

Best gun.

Your character has a flavor of MRE they hate. How do they convince somebody to trade?

You get used to cryo, eventually. But before that, what was the worst thing about it?

Your character has to work with a Sword of Sanghelios. How are the vibes?

Your character is offered the opportunity to look at their unredacted file, which includes information about their trainers' observations, where they came from, who their parents are, and what happened to their family after they were kidnapped to be trained as a Spartan. Do they read the file? Why? Why not? Do you, the writer, have ideas about what would be in it?

#advice for ocs i guess

[apocalypseyoshia]

I got a question. when you say females do not interact on certain posts/ writings, what does that mean exactly for females? Because in someone else’s eyes, that might not come off as polite or even come off as sexist? I just want to warn you of that.

OK I’m going to realize I’m gonna eventually have to explain this so it’s better if I explain it now and get it over with

Also the character I was referring to Olrox is canonically gay, as he has only had two lovers (that we have known of so far) and both of them were male, his past lover who died is often referred to the pronouns he or him and his current lover Mizrak is obviously male or male representing 

And because the character in that fanfic is an openly gay male character ,which don’t really get that much representation and when they do they get very fetishized, which as a openly trans bisexual person who uses they/he pronouns, it’s very very disturbing to me, and The few fanfics which they do get also very much get fetishize by women and of course this is not all women but a majority a good example this is BL and manhwa 

And of course this is a two-way street, as many lesbian relationships if ever get shown on screen are going to be heavily fetishize and sexualize and be very much pushed out towards male audiences



And if you haven’t seen my blog my blog is cater to mostly queer fanfics and a safe space for everybody, Black people, indigenous people, any queer person, literally anybody. so I want that to feel like a safe space, which means you get the contact you want without the fetishization and the disgusting parts that you would normally get in say a fanfic that was written by cis straight woman about two gay men having a threesome with a woman

This is not discourage any writers if you are a beginner writer like me, I say wright whatever makes you happy, but also remember that there are people out there that you might be objectifying when you write these things

If you still don’t understand another, amazing example of this is a alucard from the series Castlevania, which is the original to Castlevania nocturnal which is where the character I wrote about Olrox came from, but this character is openly bisexual he has had an intimate scene with both a man and woman and yet I rarely if ever see any fanfics with just him and male reader.

And No, I’m not saying you shouldn’t interact with my blog if your cis if you’re or if you’re straight. know this is a safe space for everyone everyone can come in and look at that fanfics and the at the stuff I post, have your cake and eat it too, but also please for the love of God be respectful, if something says female/fem responding people DIN or minor/ageless blogs DIN, than respect that

Also please understand I am not discouraging anyone from this blog, I will be writing many many more Castlevania and Castlevania nocturne soon, until then you could read literally any other fanfic that does not say fem representing din, because I am deadly serious on this matter and I will start blocking accounts, Because as unfortunate as this is I have had a few of my very old fanfics fetishized and just morally degraded and it is disgusting to a new level.

Thank you and please be respectful of my wishes

Or I don’t I’ll block you



#gay #lesbian #bisexual #safe space #mlm #transgender #castlevania nocturne #castlevania #castlevania olrox

[malinaa]

TOP 9 BOOKS

tagged : @hmsharmony ty jennifer this was SOOO hard oh my god like. genuinely agonized me for days to think about what to choose but it was SOOO fun tho <3 tagging : @rosesau | @evcndiaz | @pendrgcn | @gayarthur | @the-tenth-arcanum | @oretsev | @wherepoetsdie | @bellamyblakru | @ryekat & anyone else who wants to do it !!! rules : list your top 9 books obviously. i cheated a little and put series as as one option because that's just who i am as a person. most of these i chose at random from my 5 star reads from the past few years btw

1. percy jackson and the olympians (series) by rick riordan

i was never a big reader in elementary school—or at least not to the extent that my classmates had been. my sixth grade english class required us to bring a personal book from home for silent reading and i stole my brother's spine-cracked copies of pjo and brought them to class. i finished the whole series in less than a school week (i had to scramble to the library to pick up another series because the single novel should have lasted me at least three weeks). pjo literally kickstarted my love for reading as a hobby and i truly don't know how to state the importance it had on my little ten-year-old brain fr

2. on earth we're briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong

i have never read a book more beautiful in prose and so uncommonly human than this. there's just something so incredibly heartbreaking knowing this whole book is the narrator's letter to his mother who can't read! like what the fuck

3. alone with you in the ether by olivie blake

this came as a surprise to Me when i first read it. i meandered through the first quarter, loving the writing style but feeling disconnected from the characters until the Church Hand Scene™ and it was hook, line, and sinker at that point (i have since come to love the disconnectedness in subsequent rereads, knowing that the feeling was the Point). i have read this book four (4) times since i read it first last year. LAST YEAR!!! olivie has like... fundamentally altered my brain chemistry or something because i feel like everything i have written since having read this book has been somewhat influenced by it.

4. much ado about nothing by william shakespeare

what can i say! this is theeeeeee romcom ever. i have watched so many adaptations of this play, read it countless of times and can recite some iconic lines, and still the banter between benedick and beatrice is sooo elite. cannot be topped!!

5. a place for us by fatima farheen mirza

fun fact: seed rec'd this book to me and has been reccing it to anybody who would listen. the prose is so lush and melancholic. it's one of those books where nothing Really happens, but you feel Every Emotion Under The Sun and you're just like. altered by reading it

6. the song of achilles by madeline miller

obviously.... OBVIOUSLYYYYYYY this had to go here. if i had two nickels for every greek myth retelling i read during school that fundamentally changed me etc etc u get it. i read this as a junior in high school when we, yet again, had to bring a personal book to read durin class. i think at that point of my life, i've never read something that tragic yet so beautiful at the same time and now i am always looking at the beautiful and tragic in media. so! there u go! brain cells rewired and whatnot!

7. the grisha trilogy by leigh bardugo

this is funny because i . technically did not rate any of these books 5 stars i'm sobbing. but like, considering the fact that my url is what it is and the way i always have them in the back of my mind, it's no wonder that i put them here. i have such an odd attachment to these books and these characters. i had copies of these books since their release but didn't touch them until ... before the sab tv release which is so fucking funny. like i don't know what i would be like if i read this as a t(w)een. i would've been so fucking insufferable ngl

8. when my brother was an aztec by natalie diaz

i actually read this for an assignment and had to write a report on it and i had SO much fun doing it. diaz plays a lot with hunger and her imagery is literally unmatched. i think about the way she contructs sentences and am filled with such envy. my beginning sentence for my paper was a nod to her style (though i failed miserably). it was: "in a paradoxical sleight of hand, hunger feeds in natalie diaz's debut." she is just. so fucking good at words i need to CHOMP on it

9. sharp objects by gillian flynn

you know the thing where you see a really popular author for a really long time and they have their work adapted to the screen and it's so good but you still haven't read their actual writing? yeah, that was me with gillian flynn (specifically about gone girl). i read gone girl, i read sharp objects, i read her short story the grownup, i'm currently reading the last novel of hers that i haven't read, dark places, and flynn is just so... incredibly good at constructing harrowing stories. it's no wonder why all three of her novels got adapted to the screen! her prose is so grounded. vivid. there's this ease to her writing that, whenever i concurrently read another novel, i always find the other piece to be lacking. i slink back to flynn's prose and immerse myself in her awful, human worlds.

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