#I kinda think that's the direction things are going in

[soleilapproves]

Boxer!Sukuna loves to show off his moves to his crush aka his best friend (feat. Boxer!Toji)

Notes: sukuna is a jealous little hoe, Toji finds reader attractive, Pre-relationship, fem!reader (she/her), depictions of fighting so read at your own discretion. Uraume is a nonchalant baddie. Not proofread, I’m sorry for torturing you all.

masterlist

Thump!

A gloved fist lands against Sukuna’s tattooed cheek as he stumbles back into the boxing ring’s roped borders.

He quickly flicks off the sweat dripping down from his nose to his upper lips and gets back into fighting stance. His opponent / friend, Toji Fushiguro, smirks at him as he bounces in his spot, bracing for what’s to come.

“You’re boring me here, Ryomen!” The raven haired man barked from the opposite end of the ring. “Quit fightin’ like a pissy little boy and hit me like a man!” He further taunted his opponent.

Sukuna leaped from his spot and swung his arm only for Toji to dodge him with a duck and attack his legs.

“Fuck!” Sukuna yelled out as he fell down. His body bounced against the ground, force acting against him.

“Time out!” Coach Yaga yelled out. Toji removed his gloves and took off his helmet, lending out a helping hand to Sukuna.

Sukuna stared at Toji’s calloused hands and back at him. His glare deepened with every heavy breath he took.

He could not stop thinking about the conversation he had with Toji in the gym locker room a few days ago.

“She your girl?” Toji asked as he applied another heat patch to his sore shoulder.

“Who?” Sukuna asked while he packed his gym bag.

“The girl you came in with today. You know, the one who wouldn’t stop talking.” Toji chuckled as he said that. Sukuna’s eyes momentarily flickered away from Toji has he remembered how you were going off on a tangent about your favorite show.

“Nah, why do you wanna know?”

“I wanna take her out.” Sukuna’s hand froze after hearing Toji’s answer.

It never occurred to Sukuna that other men wanted to talk to you. He always thought that he was the only man in your life even if there wasn’t anything romantic between you two.

But then again, Sukuna had made it his mission to drive away any man that even showed a shred of romantic attention towards you. It was easy for him since he was a well known boxer that could probably smash concrete with one punch if he tried.

It was his favorite thing about being so strong.

However, it wasn’t going to work in this case. Not when his opponent was on par with him.

“You don’t get it, man. She’s not that kinda girl. She’s the relationship type and you hate all that commitment stuff.”

“I wouldn’t ask to date your friend if I wanted to leave her high and dry. I’m ready to do all that redemption shit now. I wanna get serious.”

Sukuna’s blood boiled at the thought of Toji even looking in your direction. What made him think that you would even say yes? You had hardly ever said three sentences to the man (the sentences being “hi, Toji,” ��bye, Toji,” and “where’s sukuna?”)

But he also knew what Toji was like in the ring. A relentless fighter that was always ready to improve where he lacked. And he also knew what you were like.

All he could do was hope that you’d reject Toji.

“Do whatever you want. Fuck do I care about?” Sukuna shoved in his shower gel in his bag and stomped out of the room.

He pushed Toji’s hand away and walked out the ring to hydrate himself. Toji mumbled a quick “asshole” before heading out towards his water bottle right outside the fight room.

“You were exceptionally bad today. I believe there must be something emotionally affecting you.” His manager (more like henchman), Uraume said as they handed him a bottle of sugar free Gatorade.

“Fuck off.” Sukuna tiredly said as his leaned back into the leather couch facing the ring. The spotlights above him burned his retinas but his mind kept him distracted with thoughts about you.

The way you laughed at his banter with Uraume, the way you’d comfort him after lost matches, the way you’d stare at him with your arms crossed when he’d forget to text you.

Like you were doing now.

“Some nerve of you to leave me on read last night.” You huffed out in anger. Sukuna immediately sat up, rubbing his eyes. You were definitely real and standing in front of him.

You looked positively adorable with a pout on your face and your foot tapping angrily on the ground. If Sukuna didn’t have any self control, his lips would’ve been planted on yours right now.

“You said you’d bring me to the gym to watch your practice match and then forgot to tell me when your match was!”

You were lucky to have Uraume’s number and contacted them to get to the gym yourself.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’ll make it up-“

“Hey, nice to see you.” Toji sauntered around you, interrupting Sukuna. “This creep giving you any trouble?” Toji sneered with his hands on his hips.

“Yes, in fact, he promised that I could watch today’s match but didn’t even bother picking me up.” You complained to Toji, who was towering above you.

Sukuna could practically see Toji’s blood rush to his ears. The man was smitten and it irritated him to see that.

“Toji, get the fuck out of here. We’re having a private conversation.”

“She literally aired your dirty laundry in front of me, man. There was no privacy to begin with.” You let out a small laugh at Toji’s response and he proudly beamed in your direction.

Sukuna was going to further defend himself, stating that it was a conversation between best friends but Coach Yaga was quick to swoop in with smacks to both the boxers’ heads to resume their match.

The men went towards the ring, ducking under the ropes as they entered. Sukuna needed your eyes on him no matter what. So he did what he thought was best- take his compression tank off.

His chest gleamed with sweat as he threw the piece of clothing out the ring. The tank accidentally landed on Uraume’s face and their body began to shudder in anger. You grimaced at the sight as you used your pointer finger and thumb to pluck off the sweaty garment from their head.

Sukuna’s face turned red out of embarrassment

“Sorry, dude.” Great, he was supposed to look sexy but he ended up making a fool of himself.

“You know what? keep fighting like a little kid. I wanna make sure I win in front of the pretty lady before I ask her out.” Toji whispered in Sukuna’s ear before he wore his mouth guard.

The tattooed man was seething. There were so many emotions affecting him at the same time- anger, jealousy, sadness, and insecurity.

But then all of that was erased when he saw you intently looking at him while you stood next to an irritated Uraume. Not to mention, you were still holding his sweaty compression tank like it wasn’t something that would disgust any other person.

Sukuna wasn’t feeling as defeated as anymore. In fact, there was a new surge of energy in him when he saw you standing outside the ring with hopeful eyes.

He had an advantage over Toji because right now, the one you were rooting for was him. Not his green eyed opponent.

You were here to see him win. You were here to see your man- okay, best friend who’s a man, win.

And he wasn’t going to disappoint you.

Coach Yaga blew his whistle and both men began walking in circles, eyes staring into one another’s to predict their opponent’s next move.

Sukuna remembered to always wait for the opponent to make the first blow so he could dodge them. This way, he’d be able to expend their energy and use their one second of being distracted to his advantage.

Toji did exactly as he predicted and he countered his punch with a hit to his chin. You gasped and Sukuna could see you smile in his peripheral view (maybe he was imagining it but whatever. To him, you were smiling while he punched Toji).

Toji growled as his body moved backwards but he got back into position quickly and charged at Sukuna with a punch but Sukuna crossed his arms to dodge the blow. He wanted to hit but needed an in somehow. He began to think long and hard as he dodged Toji’s incoming punches.

His eyes momentarily landed on you and he couldn’t help but think about Toji kissing you after your date, his non-tattooed, muscular arms wrapped around your waist. Your breasts pushed against his chest as you gasped for air.

He imagined Toji taking you home, sleeping in the same bed as you. Patting your head as you fall asleep.

Sukuna could not let that happen. As selfish as he was, he could not let his sparring mate take away the one thing that mattered most in his life- you.

He landed punch after punch to Toji’s ribs and you excitedly clapped at the sight. The sound of your hands only further fueled Sukuna’s fury as he continued to batter Toji.

The fight went on for a quite a while, neither fighter giving in to losing. But by now, Toji had been punched the most and was beginning to lose his balance.

Coach Yaga’s shrill whistle squeaked and the match stopped before Toji could be rendered immobile. You wanted to feel bad for the man when you saw all the bruises on his face and body but you could help but smile when you looked at Sukuna. He wasn’t smiling but the look on his face showed he was satisfied.

Sukuna turned to find you smiling and he mirrored your expression.

Yeah, there was no way he was going to let you go. He was going to win every fight against Toji whether if it was in ring or for your heart.

-•-

I’m just adding lore to Sukuna and Toji’s rivalry in both boxing and pursuing the reader.

[imjustaf444keriguess]

first off, anti endos often insist that it's impossible, when science often doesn't state impossibility and searches for possibility instead.

i personally think people's internal experiences that have been documented online and offline for decades now is enough for me, but there is currently a study going on about tulpas with brain scans (this is their AMA on reddit because i don't think the study is technically "finalized" yet, but they are doing research into this). i'd like for there to be more direct comparisons between endogenic systems, DID/traumagenic systems, and singlet controls, but science takes time, and the doctors are also mostly trusting peoples personal experience because they can't read minds yet.

i also think that the idea of a "self" is a bit flimsy and is also currently being studied (alongside why we are even conscious in the first place and how consciousness works), so unless we get to a point where we can say "everyone has one solid identity and you cant make multiple without this this and this, and this is why, this is what happens if you try, and this is why we think everyone is a singlet without trauma" for certain, we shouldn't insist without evidence that endogenic systems aren't experiencing plurality.

i have read some of sophie's studies and research links, and some from the guardians system's google document, which so far makes me believe that it's understandably possible, at least in some form, to have multiple 'selves' without trauma. alongside, you know, personal anecdotal experience, the knowledge that the brain can already create "separate people" with trauma, and the knowledge the brain is very suggestible and moldable. it would not be impossible, in my eyes, to create some similar experience. if there are any further research papers that show a distinct difference, then i'd like to see them when they come out, but for now, the research says that people have plural experiences.

you also bring up maladaptive daydreaming, which is a bit strange to bring up because that's... also, possibly, a disorder. afaik, it's not officially a disorder in the DSM, but it's something that people have struggles with. i don't believe that it's the same as endogenic plurality identically, unless there are research papers in the future on maladaptive daydreamers and endogenic plurals that show they are the same and prove me wrong. but it's kinda weird to say that they potentially have an entirely different disorder that's not officially even in the DSM.

i'm not saying that i know for 100% undeniable fact that endogenic plurals are really plural in the same way DID/OSDD systems are, but from what i've seen, i do believe people when they say they are plural. and for anti-endos to say that they are impossible is wild without proof.

so, where are the papers showing the consensus that they're not real and that they're experiencing a symptom of a disorder (that's not in the DSM)? are they in the room with us? i'd love to see your evidence!

(and genuinely, again, if they are better and more logical and have loads of scientific backing, i'll take a bit to consider it, and if i end up siding with you, then... idk, i'm on the side of science still, just to me right now it seems that endogenic systems are systems, and i prefer to trust people at their word and listen to their experience unless i have good evidence against it!)

also, one more thing, weird to say that they're roleplaying in the reblog i responded to before, and then say that they're maladaptive daydreaming the next reply? again, maladaptive daydreaming is considered disordered behavior and while i currently don't know the status on if it's going to be recognized as a disorder, it's weird to compare that to roleplaying. maladaptive daydreamers are experiencing a disorder, which may be triggered or influenced by trauma similar to how plurality can be (with, yk, the disorder called DID?).

to me, this would be like comparing someone being overdramatic to get their way to someone having a meltdown because of autism or something. yes, they're both kicking and screaming, but one's overstimulated and reacting instinctively, and one's trying to manipulate you.

similarly, maladaptive daydreaming as a maladaptive experience... is, you know, disorderly? not healthy? not the same thing as roleplaying? often involuntary, as far as i am aware?

could be wrong on that but i just noticed that and wanted to comment on it. probably should keep your story straight yk.

(starting off, we are a traumagenic did system. we have did.)

endogenic systems are absolutely punk and they belong in punk spaces (pluralpunk, systempunk, whatever) and here’s why:

- punk is about embracing who you are and living your life authentically and unapologetically

- punk is about not letting other people dictate how you live your life and who you can be

- punk is about radical acceptance, equality, and solidarity

- punk is about rejecting authority and the establishment (and yes, this includes the medical establishment which is often ableist and causes disabled people real, long lasting harm)

there is no room for anti endos in punk. being anti endo literally is being anti punk. learn more about what punk means, and do better.

[meo-eiru]

I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)

And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc

More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀

Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues

From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)

And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!

Spoilers for the game

Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.

He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.

For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.

Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.

I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.

But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.

But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.

And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.

I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.

I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.

Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.

I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.

[hyuuukais]

⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general, cannibalism kind of, reader gets beaten up roughly, generally a pretty heavy chapter overall 🥲

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER SIX ▪︎EAT OR BE EATEN (8.3k)

"You think they'll put up a good fight? One satisfying enough?" The woman asks, her silver hair shining in the moonlight. "Last few we found were pretty disappointing."

"Eh, I'm sure they'll be good enough," The man shrugs, glancing at you in the rearview mirror. You quickly shut your eyes fully so he thinks you're still knocked out. "Besides, even if they don't last long at least we won't have to worry about feeding people for a while longer."

"I guess," She sighs. "Kinda wish we got that pretty boy you were talking about."

"This one's alright."

You hear her snort and feel a bit offended for Han; he's way more than 'alright'. Who said that? A blush creeps up your neck at the sudden question of Han's attractiveness, so you push it out of your mind.

The van jerks and comes to a sudden stop, the man clearing his throat roughly as he steps out, and you dare to open an eye. In front of you is a kind of side-of-the-road type diner crawling with people. Although the building is in rough shape, you can almost picture how it must have looked pre-apocalypse with people stopping from all over for a quick bite to eat. Your mouth waters at the thought of all the types of fried foods they likely had, not having realized how long it had been since you ate last, and your stomach growled. Han looks over at you, no longer pretending to be out cold, and you spot where he was hit in the eyebrow. The skin is split from just under his brow bone to just above the short hairs. Without much medical attention, it'll scar noticeably for sure. Dried blood covers most of his eyelid and under his eye, coming to a stop just short of his mouth.

Han is pulled out of the van before you, a pair of hands reaching in and yanking him by the collar. He stumbles, falling into the gravel driveway at someone's feet. While you're distracted, another pair of hands come for you the same way, but you're somehow able to stay upright. Balance is one of your stronger suits, along with your excellent aim that leads to a swift and accurate kick behind you, landing right between the man's legs. You smirk as you hear him grunt, but it drops from your face when you're met with another rough pair of hands pushing you against the van, hot breath on your neck and body covering your own.

"Wanna try that again?" Silence. "Didn't think so."

In your peripheral vision, you can see Han being led to the diner, but he's fighting the woman holding him and keeps trying to look in your direction. The way she's got him makes this difficult, but he keeps trying and you can hear him call out your name with a slight edge to it. You think back to when you first left town, sitting in the back of the truck and watching Han silently panic on the far end. You remember trying to distract him and the way you comforted each other. All you can see from here is his struggle, but you're sure he's experiencing something very similar now.

"Let me calm him down!" You plead, desperate. "Please, I know I can and we'll both be much more compliant after, okay?"

You feel the grip on you loosen, letting you fall to your knees. He signals for the woman to bring him over and she obliges reluctantly, shoving him in front of you. Having your hands bound makes it difficult for you, knowing that if you could just touch him, remind him he's real, it would be so much easier. But you can't, so words will have to do.

"Han?" You try. He's looking at you, but his eyes are unfocused. "Jisung?"

This seems to bring him back, eyes snapping to yours. "Y/n."

"Listen to me." You talk low. "We are going to get out of this. Even if they separate us, I'll find my way back to you. Don't lose hope, okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Han takes a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. "We'll be okay."

You're about to say something else when a crackling noise comes from his back pocket- the walkie-talkie. How is it even working this far out?

"Crrk-- Han? You there? Over." It sounds, barely audible.

"What's this?" The man walks away from you and behind Han, reaching into the pocket and bringing out the device.

"Crrk-- Han? It's Seungmin. Did you find Y/n yet? You've been gone for hours, we're starting to get really worried, but you didn't hear that from me. Over --crrk."

"Seungmin?" The man speaks into the device.

"Who is this? And say 'over' when you're done, asshat --crrk."

"Who I am isn't important, but who I've got might be... to you." Even with his back facing you, you can still picture the smirk on his face as he speaks. "Over."

"You can have them." It's a new voice that takes you a moment to place- Hyunjin. Dread pools in your belly. "Crrk-- we don't --crrk-- anyway. Do what you --crrk-- want. Over."

"Sounds like your end is dying, too bad. Not for me, I was gonna destroy this thing anyway. Here's a sign your people are still alive before I cut the line." The man shoves the walkie-talkie in your face. "Talk."

Part of you doesn't want to and the other part straight up can't, voice stuck in your throat. Speaking would prove what he wants, leading the others to you if they're able to find out where you are. With both Seungmin and Jeongin's map skills combined, they'd be here in no time and it'd be all your fault when you watch each of them die one by one at the hands of these people. Why kill others when the infected are already doing it for you? You don't understand. In an act of defiance, which you'll surely later regret, you spit at his feet.

"You don't want to talk? Fine, have it your way. Niko?" The woman yanks your head back by your hair, pressing the tip of a blade to your throat. As he thumbs over the button, 'Niko' digs deeper, running it down from your jaw to your collarbone. She makes it down an inch or so before you cry out in pain. This is what they want, and the knife is taken away.

"Y/n?" It's Hyunjin again. "Y/n! You're okay- you scared the shit out of us and-"

His voice dies out with a crunch, bits of plastic ground up under the man's boot, the little bit of hope you had in the back of your throat dying with it. Not that you want them to find you, not here where the people are more dangerous than the zombies and where your small group would be severely outnumbered and overpowered. There's a tinge of guilt sitting inside you for that small part that did want to be found, wanting to be rescued and taken away from the horrors of this place so far.

With another pull of your hair, the dread is beginning to overflow. Stray hairs fly into your face as you're marched inside the diner. To the left are about five or six trailers parked with people lounging around, seemingly unaware of the apocalypse. They drink and they laugh and someone's barbequing- your stomach growls again at the smell.

"Hungry?" The man asks, but you don't answer, keeping your eyes ahead as you walk inside. "Don't worry, you'll be eating good soon. We feed our guests, need you strong."

Surprisingly gently, you're placed on a stool by the counter of the diner, two stools between you and Han. Glancing over, you catch his eye and don't let go until there's a plate in front of you with meat steaming fresh from the grill, a couple of small, chopped-up vegetable on the side. Your hands are unbound for you to eat, given a plastic fork and knife. Obviously, they don't trust you with anything else, but you're also so used to eating with your fingers that you forgot utensils were a thing in the first place, putting the piece of meat down and picking up the fork. The meat leaves a strange aftertaste in your throat, and your stomach turns as you swallow the last piece. Something isn't right, but you don't even want to ask.

"Put 'em away in the empty trailer. Tonight they can stay together under supervision before we start our fun in the morning." The woman's words worry you, but you don't think about them too long, drowsiness settling in.

God knows how long it's been since you last slept, too preoccupied with taking care of Chan after the hospital. Even when you weren't the one keeping watch, you were too on edge because of everything that happened with Hyunjin, tossing and turning for the hour you were supposed to be resting. The trailer they put you in is on the smaller side, counters bare and only one pull-out couch still folded into itself. Neither the man nor the woman who abducted you were watching over for the night, but another shorter woman with a large gun. She picks at her teeth with a wooden toothpick, leaning against the counter after pulling the couch out. She gestures you to step forward and you do, her hands quickly unbounding yours for the second time. Next, she unties Han and pushes both of you to the couch.

"Sleep." She says.

"But- it's kind of small..." Han's voice turns quiet, the woman glaring at him. "I mean, it's perfect. Um, Y/n? I can sleep on the floor if you want instead."

"No, no, don't." You shake your head. "I will."

"Both of you shut up and sleep on the bed," She snaps. "We need you ready for tomorrow."

"What exactly is happening tomorrow?" You ask, rubbing your wrists. They sting from where the rope sliced into the skin.

"No one told you?" Her eyebrows raise at your blank expressions. "You're going to be fighting in the arena."

"Arena?" Han tilts his head in confusion.

"With zombies. They really didn't tell you?" She scoffs, taking a seat on top of the counter. "Whatever, not my job to say anything, so just go to bed." With a smirk, she adds, "And maybe say a prayer."

Nothing else would have been less comforting to hear.

-

Sleep doesn't come easy, restless turning and maneuvering your body so as to not wake Han, if he was even asleep. His back is turned to you when your eyes settle on him, giving up on sleep entirely. The window above the pull-out couch is covered by blinds, but a piece is chipped and you can see into the starry night sky, fingers coming up to fiddle with your necklace. For the first time that night, Han stirs. Suddenly you're face to face with him, looking at each other with sad eyes.

"Can't sleep?" He whispers, barely audible to avoid being heard by the woman watching over you. You're sure she's stopped paying attention hours ago.

"No," You whisper back, turning fully on your side.

There's a lack of space between you, noses almost touching and breath mingling. Despite the apocalypse, Han still manages to have a tinge of mint in his breath, and you know it's from the mint leaves he collects in a tin. The scent is faded, probably from one he was chewing when he found you, but it brings a little comfort from before.

"C'mere," He stretches an arm out. "You look cold."

And you are, you realize, goosebumps prickling at your skin as you shuffle closer in the dark. His body is warm, enveloping you in a hug and burying your face into his neck. From here, you can hear and feel his heartbeat, the steady rhythm present in your cheek. You sigh, taking in this one normal moment between you two. Neither of you know what will happen in the morning, only that whatever it is, it's not going to be good. Hell, you might not live past the 'event'. As long as you can somehow get Han out of here, you don't think you care.

-

Morning comes quicker than expected, having managed to find sleep in Han's arms. Rough hands drag you from not-so-sweet dreams, tying your hands back up and leading you out toward the diner. Once again, you're separated from Han as he's led off in a different direction around the back of the building. You catch a glimpse when you're shoved through the diner doors, pushed behind the counter, and brought to the kitchen. Right before you enter the kitchen, you take a look through the back windows and spot what must be the arena; a wooden oval built by this group, or so you assume. There are bleachers with spectators already sitting on them, and you spot Han. The man who has him opens a door on one end of the oval, shoving him inside, and you can only hope he'll be okay.

The kitchen tiles are cold, and you're being bound to metal shelving closer to the back. You have no idea what's to come, but the man who brought you here comes into view, grabbing your face and bringing it up to meet his eyes. He says nothing, just moves your head from left to right, making a noise of approval. With a pat to the cheek, he straightens his back and stretches, cracks loud in the otherwise silent room.

"You ever wonder what it's like to turn? To lose control of your body and senses, lose sense of yourself in every meaning?" He kneels to eye level with you. "Because you're about to find out once your little friend is done in there. Unless you want to join us?"

"And why would I do that?" You spit.

"We know how to be immune." He says, voice shallow. Your eyes widen; there's no way to become immune, you know that. "Ah, you don't believe me? Well, you see here, there was a time me and my crew weren't as big, as powerful. We became desperate, and you know what they say." He lifts his hands in air quotations. "'Desperate times call for desperate measures'. It's true, but then we discovered something huge."

"Are you going to tell me what it is, or are you going to sit here and spew bullshit about how amazing you are?" You roll your eyes.

His eyes narrow at your words. "Feisty."

"Whatever." You mumble.

"The trick is to eat or be eaten." He says, standing back to his full height. "It's like building an immunity to an allergy. Eat enough of it, it'll stop affecting you." He starts to walk away, pausing at the swinging door with a look over his shoulder. "Makes you wonder what you've eaten."

About an hour or so later, Han is harshly thrown into your sight line. There's a new rip in the shoulder of his light green t-shirt over his chest, and you catch a glimpse of the shallow wound underneath, no doubt from the zombies the woman mentioned to you. Before you can say anything to him, you're pulled away, everything happening too quickly. Fresh air hits you with a chill, although not from the temperature. Han didn't look too bad, only a little beat up, and he wasn't expected to make it out either, so the challenge must not be so hard? Right?

As you circle to the side of the arena with the door for challengers, you notice other locked doors blending into the wooden sides. You're placed in complete darkness as the door is shut behind you, left to wonder what you'll face on the other side. It takes a few moments, but the door leading to the inside is lifted upward, sun burning your eyes temporarily. Holding a hand up to block the sudden light, you step out and people cheer loudly. You look up to see someone holding the door up from the bleachers by a long rope, noticing matching doors lined up the inner walls of the arena. There's no guessing what lies behind them, obviously the zombies as the grass field is clear of threats. Inside the arena is bigger than it looks from the outside, a wide stretch of patchy grass ahead of you. One door on the far end opens, and your suspicions are confirmed as a zombie comes tumbling out. It spots you instantly, darting toward you with a surprisingly quick pace.

No weapons, no backup- all you have are your fists. With a wide stance, you prepare to take it down, thinking back to fighting Seungmin on the mats. Sweat drips down your back; you were never as good as him in a fistfight. The infected rapidly approaches, but when it swings for you, the movement is sluggish and tired, a low groan emitting from the being.

"That all you got?" You dodge another attack, landing a kick in it's back and knocking it down.

Wrapping an arm around its neck, you pull back and hear it choke. The arms twist behind to grab you, but you step down on each limb, effectively straddling the infected. Too distracted by killing this one, you don't notice another zombie has been released behind you until the whiny moan that erupts from its throat signals its approach. At the last second you can be sure the one you're on is dead, you push yourself forward and somersault, creating room between you and the second one as it swings for you. It lands on top of the other body; this is too easy. Two are released at the same time now, easy enough to take down on your own. The problem is when the last four are brought out.

When you were alone taking down groups of three or four at the house, you had your knives to help you, but here? And, of course, they're the doors closest to you, taking even less time to reach you than the previous ones. The problem- you're getting tired. The rough night of sleep, the lack of food in your belly, the emotional drainage; it's all catching up to you now.

You run to the opposite side of the arena, testing the wood at the base. It doesn't break, ruining your plan to take the jagged piece and stick it through their skulls. Turning around, you're faced with two out of four hungry faces, eager to taste you. Taking the one on the left first, you circle around and let it come to you. It stumbles, limps, drool runs down its face. But you notice it hasn't moved its arms at all, not once since following you- they don't work. You knew paralyzation was possible with the zombie virus, you just had yet to see it in person. When it gets close enough, you grab the arms and use them as support as you kick up to its chest, successfully breaking the weak ribs and hollowing it out with your foot. The zombie falls to the ground; your foot still in its chest, and you take it out with a squelch. Reaching into the gooey blood, you pull a sharpened rib out.

The second and third are closer now, but you're more than prepared to take them on now. You grab another two broken ribs, hoping they're strong enough to pierce skin. The right one lurches forward with sudden force, but you're quicker and use the advantage of its awkward movements to drive one rib into the back of its neck- the crowd boos. The other takes a hold of your arm, but you pull away and out of its grip, leaving you with an angry, red scratch mark. Without much thought, you dig another rib into its eye.

As you're getting ready to kill the last one, a whistle blows over the crowd. You look around confused, wondering why the bleachers are being emptied. Someone comes out onto the field with a metal claw type thing, attempting to wrangle the last remaining infected. They've thoroughly pissed you off, so you decide it's time for a small taste of payback. Before the claw can wrap around the neck of the zombie, you run up and stick the last rib into the side of the throat. When it drops, you spot the guy with the claw's shoulders dropping with a heavy sigh.

-

"Tonight, we are celebrating our first ever champions of the arena!" The man who kidnapped you stands on the counter in the diner, holding up an unlabeled bottle containing a dark liquid. "No one has made it past that little event, but these two sure put up a fight. To- shit, what are your names again?" You open your mouth to answer, but he speaks again. "Ehh, who cares? To them!"

Everyone in the diner cheers, or almost everyone. Niko is in a booth in the corner staring daggers into his back as he steps down with some help from two others. He's walking over to your booth by the front door to hand you both a bottle, each matching his, and a hard hit on the back. Nearly choking on your drink, you put a hand against the table and swallow the bitter taste as he watches, giving him a weak smile and a thumbs up.

"That's homemade," He says, sticking his chest out with pride. "My own recipe, in fact. Listen, tonight you can stay in that same trailer, but we won't watch you. Of course, we have to take precautions and lock you in, but hey! A bit more privacy to do whatever you want!"

With a wink directed at Han, he leaves to sit at the table with Niko. You see her lean back and cross her arms as he approaches, huffing as he starts to talk. Their conversation is drowned out by the chatter happening around you; you're surprised no infected are swarming the place with how loud it is. Han takes a swig of his drink, making a face as he swallows, and you can't help but laugh.

"It's bad-" You say as he puts down the drink.

"It's really bad-" He agrees, sliding the bottle to the edge of the table.

There's a moment of normality between you, the absurd situation you're in running to the furthest corner of your brain as you share a laugh and a bad drink with someone whom you might dare to call a friend. No one bats an eye when you drop your bottle, only having a broom handed over by a gruff man who was previously sitting behind the counter serving people. After cleaning up the shards of broken glass, you decide maybe that's enough excitement for tonight when you stumble walking to the trash can sitting next to a broken jukebox on the wall opposite from you.

A hand comes up to hold you up as your own hits the wall, taking a second before moving away to see Han looking down at you. He's close, closer than you think you've ever been with him, and his hands are warm on your body. There's a small smile creeping onto your face that you can't hide when his arm wraps around your shoulders and guides you out into the chilly air. You didn't realize how cold it was getting recently, crisp air seizing your lungs for a brief moment. The trailers seem to get both closer and further away with each step, sounds of the diner becoming more muffled as you go. Once inside the trailer, you kick your boots off and flop onto the bed stomach first while Han clicks the door shut behind you. Old springs digging into your every body part has never felt so good.

You survived another day! Tomorrow feels light years away as you burrow your head into a limp pillow, sighing happily. Maybe this is what you needed- something to wake you back up from the defeat that's been consuming you, something to sharpen your brain and your instincts like training did. You can picture yourself here now, fighting more pet zombies if they'll let you, belly full with the never-ending supply of food they seem to have, thirst quenched by the homemade alcohol you're sure will kill you if you have too much. Here, you aren't a burden anymore. You're a champion, a warrior, someone to look up to and fear. No more worrying the others and having them think you'll get them all killed.

"I think I could get used to this." You talk into the night, forgetting about the man sitting by the foot of the bed.

Han looks over your weary body, hand hovering over your head as he debates moving the stray hairs away and examining your now near sleeping face. Pulling away, he places his hands in his lap. The scrape on his chest burns slightly, but the buzz of the drinks dulls the pain both physically and mentally.

"They're gonna make us fight again tomorrow," He says quietly.

You sit up, his words instantly sobering you up. "They are? How do you know that?"

"Niko told me after dragging my ass out of the arena. Didn't give any details though." Han takes his place next to you, stretching his sore body. "Don't die."

"You have so little faith in me." You scoff, but lie next to him with a smile on your face.

-

Morning arrives sooner than you would have liked, sunbeams shining through the cracks of the broken blinds above the pull-out couch you lie on next to Han. At some point during the night, your limbs became entangled in each other, one of his legs between yours, your own hugging his tightly. His arm is thrown across your shoulders, holding you against his chest, and your left hand is holding his wrist. You can feel the rise and fall of his breathing against your back, and for a moment it feels like everything is fine. What's the apocalypse when you have someone you trust holding you like he's scared you'll be gone when he opens his eyes?

When did you start trusting Han Jisung?

The moment of serenity is broken by Niko banging on the side of your trailer, entering with no warning, and dragging you both out of bed. You want to laugh at the way Han's hair is sticking up and the way his cheeks are puffed out in annoyance, but you know better than to do that in her presence. There's a chill in the air as you step out and walk toward the diner, goosebumps rising all over your skin. Winter is coming soon, and you hope you'll be somewhere warm when it hits full force.

"You, take him to the back. You know the drill." Niko hands Han off to the shorter woman who watched over you the night before and she nods, shoving Han through the doorway.

Niko leads you around to the arena and you see people are already starting to gather. Excitement is palpable, making you nervous to see what's in store today. Yesterday wasn't like this; there wasn't the same kind of anticipation, but today is something new. You assumed last night that people don't tend to live past the first round, a reason for the celebration, and now they have to be creative when trying to kill you.

The door shuts behind you loudly. You start giving yourself a bit of a pep talk, expecting to be met with a large group of zombies once the gate is lifted, but instead, you see a large wall. Standing up straighter, you notice there's a fork, you can head either left or right. You let a hand trail against the wall as you turn right, met with more twists and turns the deeper you go. You're in some kind of homemade labyrinth. After a few more turns, you stumble into a zombie, right into a zombie. It has you pinned against the ground and you're starting to understand how this round is going to go as you flip over and grip its neck. Something about this zombie is oddly familiar, and then the recognition hits you. He's someone you saw in the audience during the first round.

When you glanced up nearing the end to see people leave, you noticed one pair of people stay put. An older man with a boy younger than you, the boy's eyes wide with fear as he watched you rip the rib bones out of an infected. How many more rounds did these people set up after you and Han? And how many others survived? Considering they only celebrated you and Han, you're guessing the answer is none. Including the boy under you, now lying still as you pant above him. There's something tucked into his waistband glinting in the sun, revealed to you as you stand and his flannel is pushed off his side. A knife.

"Holy fuck!" You squeal, ripping it out of his pants.

It's a basic steak knife, but way better than having nothing, and you've always been better with weapons than with your bare hands, as proven by Seungmin time and time again on the training mats. An aching pang hits you as you reminisce, missing Seungmin more than you thought you did. There's been a whole day since you last saw or heard from him, longer than you've ever gone without him. You imagine he's doing much better than you right now, still having Jeongin and the others to keep him occupied. They must still be at the country house, Chan too wounded to move. Hyunjin's adrenaline has probably worn off by now, weary and in need of medication and care provided by your resident doctors. Or, in Felix's case, resident doctors in training.

Continuing on through the labyrinth, you slaughter more zombies you come across, groups varying in size. Some are alone like the first boy, and others are clustered in duos or trios. After what feels like forever, you collapse at the entrance of what looks to be the middle of the maze. Your mouth is dry, begging for water, and your stomach rumbles as you lean against the wall and wipe sweat from your forehead. It's been hours, you think, hours since they locked you in this maze to be tortured by infected, and by your own mind as well. Thinking of Seungmin unlocked all kinds of feelings you've been trying to shove away. Missing him, missing Minho, feelings of hurt and sadness from what Hyunjn said to you. Regret for not letting Seungmin bring you back and for causing Han to be caught up in all of this with you. You're fighting back tears as you crawl toward a podium in the centre of the circle you've entered.

The podium is simple, solid dark wood splintering along the edges with a key lying on top. You figure you're supposed to take this, tucking it into your pants pocket. Where the key goes, you'll find out. There are four exits out of the circle of grass you stand in, the one you're facing leading back to where you came from. You turn around, assuming this must be the way to go, but are stopped by zombies shuffling out. You're feeling weak, using the podium to keep you up as they come closer and closer. As one reaches you, you fling yourself to the side and let it hit the piece of wood, hard enough you hear a crack, and roll around to see a split in the side where the worse of the splintering is. A jagged piece comes out on an angle, stabbing the infected in the leg. The other four are approaching quickly, and you barely escape one about to pin you to the ground. Using the force of the roll to push up, you slip your knife into your hand and stab the closest one in the neck, blood spilling onto you and soaking the dark material of your t-shirt.

With one zombie seemingly stuck on the podium and another crawling around on the ground disoriented, you're at an advantage now. There are only two actively after you, you can take them down easily, but the ache in your stomach has you hesitant. You're close enough to the exit you want to run, but once you're through, you won't know where to go and they could easily catch up and surprise you. If you take out two now, you only risk the others following you if they can, and whatever else lies in the remaining corridors. Taking up your knife again, you decide killing two now will be more beneficial, even if your body is protesting every step you make. One lashes out, catching you in the arm, but it barely scrapes you and you're able to grab the arm and twist, breaking the bone. The zombie makes a strangled groan kind of noise as you yank it toward you, pulling the same move you did with the first one. This time, you back away before the majority of its blood showers you, the body dropping down to its knees and then to its stomach, a pool of red created in the grass. Chest heaving, you're about to face the other when it grabs your sides, and you only just grasp the back of its head by the hair before its head descends on your neck, muscles in your shoulder aching.

Nails dig into your side and you cry out in pain, feeling a warm, wet sensation wash down your body. Your knife falls out of your hand and you're starting to think this is it, you're going to die in this arena built by sadists, all watching as teeth get closer and closer to your most vulnerable spot. Trying to kick behind you, it only causes its mouth to get closer and soon enough you can feel them on your neck, waiting eagerly to be able to push down and take the perfect bite out of fresh meat.

By a stroke of luck, you manage to land a kick hard enough onto its knee to make it sink down, grip releasing your bleeding side. The hand previously holding the zombie's head flies down, pressing into the wound and limping closer to the exit without looking back. You hope the kick was enough to incapacitate it, not daring to delay another second of getting out of here. Without the steak knife, you feel naked, defenseless. Any infected you run into going forward will have the upper hand now that you're injured too, leaving the occasional bloody handprint on the wall as you wander through the twists and turns specially created for you. You're starting to lose hope of getting out when you see one of your handprints, taking the other corridor left instead of right like you did previously. The wall you hit is a dead end, but you can tell it's the arena wall instead of part of the maze. Using the hand not holding your blood in, you brush your fingers over the painted wood and feel a ridge in the otherwise smooth wall, about the size of a lock.

You bring out the key and match it up to the indent, pushing it in and turning. When you hear a click, you use the key to help open the door out. On the other side is Han, waiting to enter the maze.

-

Han returns hours later when the sun has already set, entering your trailer and leaning against the closed door. You're on the pull-out couch under a rough, worn blanket, trying not to move too much and cause your stitches to rip. After you'd gotten out, you were brought inside the diner to be assessed, Niko making quick work of your injury before sending you off with a paper plate of meat and rice. The paper plate sits abandoned on the counter by the door, only half of the food eaten. You were in too much pain to finish the meal.

Sliding down the door, Han puts his head in his hands, fingertips reaching past his hairline and rubbing his scalp. When his body starts shaking, first his shoulders, then the rest follow, you know he thinks you're already asleep as he lets himself break. You've never seen him so vulnerable, so weary, and it feels wrong to watch him cry and cry and cry. So you close your eyes, allowing the heaviness in your own chest to bring you to sleep.

When you wake, Han is tucked under a different holey blanket on the opposite side of the couch, his back facing you. As much as you want to reach out and comfort him, tell him everything will be okay, you don't want him to know you witnessed him in the flesh last night, and you don't want to lie to him either. You don't know that everything will be okay, you can't tell the future. Staring at his back, you want to reach out and trace a finger down his spine, rub circles into his shoulder blades, anything just to touch him. Maybe you're deprived, maybe you're starting to like him.

Late morning is when they take you back to the arena, but they don't separate you from Han this time. He gives you one last look over his shoulder as they lead him to the other side, and you can't help but wonder what they're going to make you do today. You weren't celebrated again last night, feeling the growing impatience within the group about how you and Han keep winning the challenges they've thrown at you despite the odds. Are they going to make you fight each other? Finally force one of you to die? Or will this be an execution of sorts?

"What's on the menu today?" You try a light tone, giving the man behind you a small smirk.

"You are." And you're hit by something hard, effectively knocking you out.

-

You come to with blurry vision, the side of your head pounding from the force of whatever he hit you with. Blinking, your vision returns slowly and you spot Han on the other side, not too far from where you sit- fuck. You're chained to a metal post, handcuffs rubbing at the skin on your wrists that have only just recovered from your trip to the hospital. Han is in the same situation, but he hasn't regained consciousness yet. There's a drip of blood going down his cheek, nothing too major, but the wound on his eyebrow from his rescue attempt has opened back up. In between you are two zombies, each with collars around their necks connecting to a chain held by someone behind them. At first, you're unsure why they aren't trying to feast on the ones closer to them, why they're so focused on you and Han specifically, then you notice the blood and guts drenching the two people holding the infected back.

Smart, I guess, you think. They can't smell the difference between you and themselves.

The chains loosen ever so slightly, causing the zombie to get closer to you. Upon further examination, you can see a key dangling around its neck; it has to be for the handcuffs you're wearing. The chains around your ankles are looser, and you try to kick them off as the zombie continues to slowly be released. At this point, Han has woken up and seems to be struggling with unbounding his wrists, but you already knew that was a lost cause from how tightly the cuffs are digging into you. After more struggling, you figure out how they've encased your legs, realizing they didn't tie anything down, only wrapping them around several times. You can see the loose ends hanging down if you lift your legs. If only you could just...

"There!" You kick the chains off, the space between you and the zombie smaller than ever. "Han! Go for the-"

"No helping!" One of the guys in the middle bark at you.

Rolling your eyes, you lift your legs and make eye contact with Han. He seems to understand, frantically trying to wriggle his legs free. You're not sure there's enough time for him to get them untied before his zombie gets to him, less space between them than you and your own personal zombie. You wait patiently for it to get closer to execute your plan, the crowd starting to boo, thinking you've given up. You haven't, but they don't need to know that. Once close enough, you twist your legs around it, kicking it as it falls, and sitting up flat against the pole that holds you to avoid its head falling near any body parts. It lands near your feet, exactly where you want it, and you place a foot on either side of its head and- crunch. Break its neck. Using the lower half of your body, you bring it up and lean forward as much as you can. It's difficult, and the pull on your wrists hurts like hell, already feeling the new slices deepening with every centimetre. Sweat runs down your nose in the hot sun, dripping down onto the body between your legs as you use your teeth to bite down on the necklace holding your key, ripping it off with every bit of force you can muster.

Now, the even more difficult part. If you fuck up throwing this behind your shoulder, it's over, for you and Han. Looking up for a brief moment, you can see he's gotten his feet and legs loose, but his zombie is gaining on him, mouth snapping at him as he backs up.

"Come on, Y/n," You mumble, mouth full with the necklace. "Do this right. Don't mess anything else up for once."

A leap of faith, a stroke of luck, a well-directed toss, whatever, the key lands right beside your hands when you sit back, taking only a second to be blinded by pain, forcing yourself to feel for the metal. Once you've grabbed it with bloody fingers, you bend your hand almost unnaturally to unlock yourself. A rush tingles your hands and fingers, curling them in and out to regain any lost feeling before standing on shaky legs. Han is holding his zombie back with his legs on its chest, kicking outward, and it slips on the grass. As you jog over, he starts kicking its head as it continues to crawl toward him.

"Oh no you don't!" You shout, giving a swift kick to the head of the zombie, and it rolls onto its back.

Someone is yelling, but you're too focused on Han to notice. He's breathing heavily, obviously tired from holding his legs up for so long. You manage to get the key into the lock before you're yanked back by the neck of your t-shirt, Han doing the rest and pushing whoever grabbed you away in seconds. This earns him a punch to the jaw and he falls, hand holding his face. You turn around to see one of the guys covered in guts, and he looks angry.

"What was the one thing I said, bitch?" He grabs you by the neck, but not too tightly and you grin.

"I don't know, bitch, couldn't really hear over the zombie trying to eat me." You say, not thinking.

Oh, you've done it now. His grip on your neck gets tighter, constricting your breathing to nearly nothing, but lets go as his eyes focus on something behind you.

"No hurting the contestants unless I say so." The man, who you still don't know the name of, places a hand on his shoulder. "That is... unless you want a spot in the show?"

"N-no, sir," He stutters, shaking his head.

You rub your neck with one hand, kneeling next to Han who's still half on the ground. Reaching up, you pull his hand away and check his jaw. There's a bruise forming already as you gently thumb over the mark, making eye contact with him as you do. Your breathing hitches, thumb stopping and heart racing.

"Little lady." A hand comes to grab you under the arm, bringing you back to a standing position. You're getting real sick of that nickname. "Come with me." He leads you to the end with the exit, face close to your ear. "You heard the man, you weren't supposed to help your boy. Do you know what we do to rule breakers here?"

"No," You whisper, unsure if you want to hear the answer.

"First, we make sure you understand what you did wrong," He chuckles, and a feeling of unease settles in your stomach. "Then, you get to meet our undead friends." He pushes you through the doors of the diner, bringing you to a small room you haven't seen with a barren desk and broken chair. "Last is the best part." He lets go of you harshly, sending you into the desk with a cough. "Then, we eat you. Now, allow me to start the process."

Before you can register, he's landing a hard kick with the heel of his boot straight into your nose, effectively breaking it and causing your head to hit back against the wood you're sitting against. Immediately, your vision blurs, and the taste of copper fills your mouth, and the scent, your nose. He picks you up by the throat, slamming you face down against the top of the desk and you feel the bottom of your shirt lift. A cold, metal blade traces what's exposed of your spine, as if choosing the perfect spot to stab you. It trails to the side and digs in slowly, agonizingly, but you're thankful he chose somewhere non-lethal. You're not at the stage of getting killed yet, only tortured. Not that that's good either, but hey, you still have a chance of getting out of this. The blade is all the way in now, and he pulls it out just as slowly. Once it's out, you take the opportunity to flip over and push away from the desk, forehead making contact with his own.

With a groan, he stumbles back and rubs his forehead. "You little shit. I'm gonna-"

He cuts himself off, head snapping toward the door behind him and the noise behind it. There's shouting, gunfire, you name it. He makes his way to the door, pausing and walking back to you before stepping out.

"We're not done here." He shoves you onto the ground again, landing a swift kick to your ribs and you feel something crack. "Got it?"

When you don't answer, he kicks you again, this time under the chin. "I asked you a question."

"G...got it." You cough out.

He scoffs, giving you a dirty look as he leaves the room. Everything is fading for you, the sounds of chaos, the taste of your own blood in your mouth. A trembling hand comes up to touch the charm on your necklace lying under your shirt, eyes fluttering shut. You know you shouldn't give in to the feeling of oncoming sleep, but it would be so very peaceful.

A door opens in the distance hard enough to hit the wall. Next thing you feel are hands on your body, on your face. Hands that shake you awake and bring you into someone's lap. Someone who wipes the blood from your face despite the fact it won't stop anytime soon, someone who picks you up bridal style and whispers; I've got you.

All is going well until Han is tackled outside the diner, and you roll away from the two fighting bodies. Your eyes are open slightly, watching Han get punched by the same man who was going to kill you, but he's stronger than you were in the moment and flips their positions. Han still has no weapon, so you watch as he uses his fists to repeatedly hit the man until he's no longer moving. Even then, he doesn't stop, and that's when you notice the tears streaming down his face. Arms reach out and pull Han away, holding him close as his hands are held in front of him, blood running down from the knuckle, a mixture of his own and from the body he's straddling. A flash of blond hair and you can tell it's Felix holding him, comforting him in the midst of fighting around you. It's hard to make out who everyone is, but you vaguely see Seungmin using his new baseball bat to beat anyone who comes near you three, and Chaeryeong must be shooting from somewhere behind you because bodies are dropping like it's nobody's business. They all found you. They all came to rescue you.

One hand touches your cheek, turning you to face the owner and you lock eyes with Hyunjin. You can't speak, but you give him a weak smile. The moment doesn't last long as Hyunjin is gently pushed away and you're being carried again. This time, you can look up at Han and admire the determination on his face as he lies you down in the backseat of the pickup truck, closing the door and circling around to sit on the other side with your head in his lap. You can kind of feel the car start, but mostly, you're focused on Han's warm fingers brushing through the loose parts of your hair.

You might die in this truck, but at least you'll die in the lap of someone you care for, and who cares for you. You won't die alone like you thought you would in that room, at the hands of that vicious man. You're bleeding out onto the seat, but you can't find it in you to care anymore. You just want it all to be over.

---

notes ▪︎ i forgor how heavy this chapter was

─── taglist : @chaeryred @toplinelix @channie-143 @staysinbloom @manuosorioh @hanjisunglover @xxstrayland @puppyminnnie @hanjsquokka @kpopsstuffs @ot8girlfie @quokkabite @linoslawayslinos @reapers-lover @hannieslittlerockstar @kiki0113 @nishiriks @nxtt2-u @moonlightjam @hannieslovebot @minmininnie

green means i can't tag you

[impactrueno]

I don't think the crew's comments about Lydia and Beetlejuice being endgame should be taken seriously. If that was seriously considered I feel like the movie would have gone on a different direction, they were pretty consistent with Lydia being disgusted by Beetlejuice and he's the villain all the way to the end

yeah that's kiiind of how i feel too. i would not say he's the villain though? i think he's more of an anti-hero type of character in this one. definitely not a good guy though lol not by a long shot

ultimately the cast isn't the one who's making the story here, however they do have some insight the audience might not have. like i feel like they know something we don't and that's why they feel that way, because they were all VERY sure about it.

this is just my guess so take this with a grain of salt, but i feel like the cast might be a little biased because they know michael personally and he's nice to everyone behind the scenes, you can tell everyone has a lot of love for him. i don't like assuming stuff like this so AGAIN don't take this as fact, but i remember winona saying something along the lines of like, him making sure she wasn't uncomfortable while filming the first movie, so maybe that kinda stuck with her and she conflated it with beetlejuice's character. she speaks of the whole thing in a very shy fangirl manner (which is honestly kind of adorable winona youre 52 and acting like this) like she knows it's silly and she knows she shouldn't want them to be endgame but she does anyway. so THAT feels like it really is her own personal opinion that hasn't much to do with what's planned for them (if there's anything planned at all because we don't know anything for sure, we can only guess and hope there'll be a third one)

tim burton has talked about how he wanted the whole macarthur park scene to be straightforwardly romantic and emotionally intimate, in its own fucked up beetlejuicey way of course. i think it can be all that and still be pretty one-sided idk i personally enjoy the one-sided aspect? macarthur park IS a breakup song after all. so i think i kinda see where he was going with that. it's uh. kind of an enigmatic scene once you stop laughing at the ridiculousness of it all and try to analyze it lol

sorry i lost my train of thought there i got interrupted many times while typing this

i think what i was trying to say is that, even with the one-sidedness and breakup song and all that, there could still be a possibility that things take a strange turn in a third movie if it happens. it's just. wow. how would they even make THAT work, you know? because this movie didn't push hard enough in that direction. it's not impossible but if they do go for it, it will be insanely hard to pull off successfully. fics are one thing, you can do whatever you want in fanfiction, but canon can't be approached like that.

who knows man. lately i've been thinking about how i would've reacted to learning about the events of the sequel if i hadn't been eased into it with trailers and promos and through the movie and its storytelling, and i just know i would've thought "that's insane and would not happen, ever, come on" and now here i am. accepting it. breaking it down and analyzing it. enjoying it! i love this crazy ass movie.

at this point i think anything could happen even if i'm also very skeptic about everything. i won't believe anything until i see it.

[imamageinantotherworld]

It's funny to me watching this shit. Like, gimme some popcorn. Can't we all just like what we like and let them like what they like?

(fr tho we can't because I'm pretty sure it's human nature to argue over the dumbest things. I'm sure some people in cavemen times would argue over whether or not they should eat these berries, even though Steve at them last night and dropped dead, foaming at the mouth, but surely they can't be that bad)

You can't change that Annabeth was, in the book, a blonde, white, but tan, California chick. There is a difference between tan and black.

Can we talk about how ridiculous this is? You say it's for representation, and that's well and good, but taking a character that was notably white and making her black just for the representation isn't right either. It's wrong in the same way taking a black character and making them white is wrong. It's changing their identity. If you want to do it on your own time, that's fine. If you wanna make a character that's not white, more power to you.

But what fit would be thrown if Piper's actress was... Idk let's say Irish. Irish people were an oppressed and abused minority, we should give them some rep. Or maybe Leo should be asian. We got enough Latino rep, let's give a little bit of asian rep.

Does that sit right?

Hell, why does Percy's actor look blonde? He is supposed to look Greek! Why aren't you all in arms over his actor not being Greek? Is it because he's supposed to be the "white boy"?

Now I know I'm kinda going in two different directions with this, and that's because there isn't really a right option. People are free to do whatever the fuck they want. Which means both sides are free to make their own art, and unfortunately both sides are free to hassle each other over the other's art. Both sides are entitled to their own opinion. We just need to learn not to be dicks about it.

It's not hate. I am drawing this character this way because this is how I think of them. I am respecting the source material. I don't watch the show.

The only reason they made Annabeth black is to get people on their side so they can say "look how generous we are, look how open we are, we are being representative of these people." Pat themselves on the back and go sit on their cash piles while the fandom goes to war with itself over this. We are fighting over this, something that is, in its simplest form, cosmetic. Does Annabeth being black affect the spider attacks, her finding Thalia and Luke, and her growing up in camp? Does it affect her relationship with her mother, her dad, her friends?

It shouldn't. And if it does, there's something wrong there.

Hi guys, wanted to discuss something going on for a while now. What the hell is wrong with pjotwt? Like...whats wrong with this people? Do you see what they say? What they are even trying to do?

First of all, let me start by speaking about the cast. They are all wonderful children, Leah especially! She is doing an amazing job as Annabeth. But book Annabeth still exists yk? She is and she is literally white. It is not racist. But denying about a character being white in the books, even spreading hate like this...is racist. There are people out there related with Annabeth for years. People love her, every version, maybe book more maybe even the movie. How can you disrespect her like this? And most importantly, how can they attack an artist like this, with an art being so beautiful. What they are trying to do is not protecting Leah, it is spreading hate. It is awful. Making this fandom toxic, so so much.

Them trying to erase book Annabeth because she is white, trying to cover her by painting on her, shaming artists, calling people that loves her racist...What do we do about this in pjo fandom? This fandom used to be so beautiful, but now. This people are not part of the fandom in my eyes, because real fans, would respect every version of the characters, love them with their anything, even flaws. They would protect this characters because they love them, so much. And not to mention this characters are the ones Rick wrote 20 years ago, they were with us for so long.

What do tumblr think about this I wonder? Since pjo fandom is pretty active here :3

[theladyofrosewater]

We officially have our first look at Orianna in season two of Arcane! but I don't think she's gonna be an actual character sadly :( since's she's only a 2D drawing instead of a 3D model so my girl probably won't even get a full name drop. But the glass coffin and all the fairytale stuff she kinda reminds me of like snow white or sleeping beauty. and like in those tales it's true loves kiss that wakes the princess but Orianna isn't going to get that, even in her color story it's shown that once she gets sick and basically transformes herself there is no one like her and she'll be alone forever. This princess isn't going to awake from her magic coffin she's rotting in it and what comes out of the coffin isn't her

and like if we DO see a 3D model of Orianna out of the coffin I guarantee you the true is she's basically a rotted corpse the moment she's drained of all the weird shimmer cocktails her dad injected her with

also this shot of Viktor and Sky realizing just how fucked up and far gone Singed went to "save" his daughter is just.... I don't know how to put it into words but you guys get it right?? right?? like it's not exactly pity or horror but you know what it is right??? Like to me it's this moment that plants the seed of doubt in Viktor's mind about emotions because he saw how far Singed had gone for his daughter and gotten nothing from it just more pain for Singed and if Viktor is remembering Rio at all here how much pain Orianna is probably in but can't articulate it because Singed has frozen her out of this "love" for keeping his daughter alive and it's love that causes all this pain.

Sky's face definitely shows more sadness and concern I think like she could understand the grief but knows this has gone too far. There needs to be a time when to let things go and the time has come and gone. (also sidenote I'm glad this is actually Sky and not the Hexcore like yay for agency instead of just puppeting a fridged girl's image around to guilt trip the guy she saved, plus she got to do more science in her weird afterlife thing so good for her <3)

also a fact that is kinda driving me crazy is that this? this right here is like the first ever indirect interaction between Orianna and Viktor, two champions who were released in 2011 and have remarkably similar themes and motifs and the human condition and robotics and inventing and who's lore involves both the cities of Piltover and Zaun and THIS IS THE FIRST TIME IN NEARLY 14 YEARS WHERE THEY HAVE AN INDIRECT INTERACTION

NEARLY 14

GODDAMN

YEARS

AND IT'S STILL AND INDIRECT INTERACTION NOT A DIRECT ONE

riot when I get you

[airrec]

Dreamnoblade Cinderella AU turned sideways bullet point fic

Content warnings: referenced gaslighting, past non-consensual body modifcation by way of fairy godmother, implied one-sided Awesamdream with all that entails, hopeful ending I swear. Very much pre-relationship Dreamnoblade but they're intended to head that direction post-fic.

Turning someone from an animal into a human for fairy godmotherly magical royal ball-related purposes is, ehhh, not without consequences.

Techno can't change back.

Look, he was fine being a hedgehog, okay? Well, it's not like he really had any idea of what he was missing out on - hedgehogs aren't the most intelligent or aware of creatures out there - but he was content snuffling around and just kinda keep on keeping on his way through life.

He can't go back to that, though, so here he is. His social conversation skills are distinctly limited, and his accent just makes people think he's a foreigner who doesn't speak much of the language, but this just works out in his favour by providing him a very convenient excuse for his awkwardness.

He gets a job, with a sharp stroke of luck he feels may have had a hint of fairy godmotherly influence, at the local dye shop and one of the first things he does when he gets his first weekly pay is to dye his own hair bright pink - he has to grapple with stuff like personal identity now, and the soft brown hair the colour of his long-gone fur always catching the corners of his vision was starting to do something unpleasant inside his chest, so away it went.

A couple of months down the line, he sees Dream again.

Dream was always good to him - to all the little garden animals, along with the ones he was actually in charge of - he remembers. Gentle hands brushing down the horses and looking after the hounds in the kennels and scratching the fluffy cheeks of the kitchen cat. Diligently filling the bird feeders and carefully checking the woodpile for mice and hedgehogs like Techno himself, once winter swept in and they started to hibernate.

Dream looks miserable.

Now, Techno wasn't really in the loop with the whys of everything, because quite frankly he was grappling with a lot that night, but he knows that Dream went to some fancy party and didn't make it out when he was supposed to. In fact, he didn't leave the palace at all.

It's weird, because when Dream's companion ushers him into the tailor - directly next to the dye shop - Dream catches his eye and both of them know they recognise each other.

Another week passes before Techno sees Dream again, and this time Dream approaches him and says, "You were the coach driver, weren't you? That night?"

Techno was, so he nods. Dream questions him more, mostly just stating what happened - the fairy godmother, the animals turning into people or into other animals, the magical clothes that appeared in glints and sparks. Techno nods to every one of these. Dream just looks relieved that someone else is agreeing that this course of events is what took place.

"I didn't want this," Dream says, sounding upset, frustrated, maybe even a bit... scared. "I just wanted to go to the ball, to have a good time - dance a bit, eat some fancy food, listen to the music - is that a crime? Now King Awesam won't let me leave, and he keeps trying to tell me that I'm not from where I'm from, or that I've been there longer than I have, or - and he's got everyone else doing it, too! They're all lying to me, and I - it's been terrible, up there."

This sounds like a vast understatement. Dream looks very unwell, if not physically, even to Techno's inexperienced eyes.

"I didn't want this either," he offers, and even if it's the truth it seems like the wrong thing to say, because Dream pales and starts apologising.

As though he could have stopped a fairy, honestly! No one can do that. Techno doesn't know much but he does know that.

"Bruh, ain't your fault," he says, stabbing into the dark for something to make this conversation start going better. "You know how fairies are: everything has a price."

Everything has a price indeed, because at that moment Dream is caught up to by a group of royal guards and swept back up to the palace. Techno narrowly avoids a beating by mumbling and walking away before he can be properly questioned and - that's that, perhaps.

Except no, of course it's not, because once upon a time, back when Techno was just a young thing, huddling down for his first ever winter hibernation, Dream saved his life.

He'd been in the wood pile that had been set aside for some evening bonfire at the lord's estate, unknowing of the danger, and Dream - kind Dream, conscientious Dream, had poked in and around, checking before the event got going, and he'd plucked Techno from his nest before it could turn into his fiery tomb, saving the life of the little hedgehog long before any of this fairy business had ever happened.

So Techno owes Dream. And besides, this King Awesam sounds like a right piece of work, and Techno has lived a whole life being small, in a world where being small is practically a crime for how the small are punished for it. Dream's a different kind of small, and King Awesam a different kind of big, but in the end it's all the same, really.

There's a crow that lives in the tallest tree of the local forest, and Techno knows that this crow is sometimes a man with black crow wings instead.

Sometimes he helps out the creatures of the forest. For a price. Techno doesn't think that some blackberries are going to suffice this time, but - crows like shiny things, right?

He still has that necklace, the one from Dream's outfit that night that changed everything. He'd pulled it off his neck and left it in the carriage, where Techno had found it when he pulled away towards the palace stables, probably because of sensory issues, if Techno had to guess. He'd tried it on himself, just out of curiosity, but it had pinched too much. When the night drew on and Dream never came back and the carriage turned into a pumpkin again but Techno didn't turn back into a hedgehog - he'd taken it with him as he left, escaping the minor chaos.

He takes it with him to barter it for Dream's freedom. He can only hope that it's enough.

(It is.)

(There's a cloud covered night, and a long black rope, and a window open in a room in an isolated tower of the palace.)

(Two men go in, and three men leave.)

[elektroyu]

Interestingly, through the loss of my dad and then a certain trigger happening (a song I used to listen to when I was still in school), I realized I'm not only mourning this actual loss, but also what I've lost in the last years even before my chronic illness became more severe. There's barely anyone left whom I feel close to, and I really miss that feeling of closeness to someone. At the same time, I feel like all this is exactly what needs to happen at this time. It's a little weird to feel this while also feeling that immense loss.

Also, I'm really curious what life will have in store for me on the coming years. How everything is going to pan out. I feel like I'm just preparing for what is yet to come, like I'm still waiting for the thing I'm meant to do in this life and everything will become clearer once these things have started happening. Idk what it'll be, but I think I'm on the right track, however difficult it may be right now. I can't wait to see what the thing will be 😶 But I'm looking forward to it, it's probably going to be something great (for me anyway).

[quotidian-oblivion]

*ahem*

I'mNotGonnaTurnThisIntoARantI'mNotGonnaTurnThisIntoARant-

So, as a fan who loves analyzing the fuck our of everything and anything, I have obviously peeked at some of Joker's stuff.

What I generally do with my fics is that I take every version of Joker I've been exposed to so far and mush them all together, taking the aspects which are useful to the plot (as one does). But when I think of Joker, generally, it changes. I find him to be very malleable in terms of plot and character and writing him is very easy because he cooperates with the plot really well

Unlike the fucking Wayne family

Anyways, under the cut, here is my personal interpretation and choice of portrayal for Joker!

ShitITurnedThisIntoARant.

To understand the Joker, we gotta understand Batman first. Not Bruce, I'm pretty sure we all understand Bruce well, I mean Batman.

Because the Joker was created by comic writers to rival Batman in every way! Joker is Batman's commensalistic parasite. Commensalism is when an organism attaches itself to the other, and it benefits while the other organism is unaffected. Joker needs Batman to be the Joker. Batman doesn't need Joker to be Batman. It's a very interesting thing I've observed and I believe that this is one of the key motivations for Joker to do the things he does.

Joker knows he can't operate without Batman. An example of this is clearly in Batman: The Dark Knight Returns Part I and II. In the movie, Bruce gives up being Batman cuz he got too old for it and a lot of the villains were sent to rehabilitation. And Joker was shown to be catatonic, unresponsive, a vegetable, dead except for his lungs expanding and heart beating.

Until... Batman came back (cuz plot happened) and he saw that he came back on TV. His mind spurred back to life and in a blink, Joker became himself again. All because Batman came back and gave him a purpose.

As for the motivation of "its fun", yes, the Joker does want to have fun. But his kind of fun is wildly different to a normal person's. He doesn't think riding a roller coaster is fun. But his sense of fun is always directed at something or someone. And almost all the time, it's Batman. But during times it's not, it's always to show the dark side of humanity (which I'll be speaking about more later).

Besides motivation, here is how I've broken down his character:

Morality

Born to be the opposite side

Symbolism of humanity

Thoughts and feelings on Robin

How his mind works

How comic writers (unsurprisingly) failed to portray his real character

Morality

Not all of my sources will be from comics and movies. I'm going to quote soms fanfics and my own thoughts too becauss Joker's character is so vast and open.

In terms of morality, the best way I've seen someone portray this was the fic Christened by StoriesAreMagic. I haven't finished reading it 😅 but the first few chapters include Joler Junior Tim and his thought process behind what his dad (Joker) taught him.

He repeatedly goes through what is good-good, bad-good, bad-bad, good-bad. Good-good and bad-bad are things like murder and stealing which is generally unacceptable by society. Bad-good and good-bad are what is deemed "right" or "wrong" by Joker.

Now this was interesting because it implies that Joker knows what the right and wrong things to do are (which kinda throws away his insanity plea a little bit). And because he knows them, he knows exactly what to do.

But, he doesn't just kill people for fun. And one thing you'll see me repeatedly coming back to is his motivations - Joker cannot exist without Batman.

If we want to write a good Joker, then he can't be killing people and tormenting them willy-nilly. That's not how Joker's mind works. He can't have fun that way. His sense of fun needs to cause someone pain. Someone who he likes. He won't kill a random person cuz he wants to watch their SO suffer. He will kill a random person because he wants to watch Batman or Robin or Red Hood or Nightwing or someone writhe in pain with the knowledge that they failed to save someone.

It's the reason he killed Jason. He had fun tormenting him by watching the boy writhe in pain. Then he had fun killing himby watching Batman writhe in pain at losing his son.

So Joker's moral compass will always be targetted towards his sense of fun - how much he can torture Gotham's vigilantes/Commissioner.

To write a good Joker, would be to have him strike at Batman's insecurities through murder or torture or other things.

Opposites

I googles why comic writers created Joker and the answer was that Robinson (the writer) loved the psychological aspect of Batman's character and created villains to oppose that. And the biggest thing we know about Batman is that he's not fun, he doesn't have fun, he doesn't laugh, is stoic, is organized, precise, planned, and in grief. That is always who Batman is going to be. So Joker opposes Batman in every way of that. He is "fun", he is always looking to have "fun", he always laughs, is silly, is chaotic, wild, unpredictable, and always "happy". The biggest opposite here is obviously that Batman, the darkness, is the good guy while Joker, the light, is the bad guy.

A while ago, I ranted to a couple friends on discord about this exact seperation, let me see if I can find it.

I really go off about it lol

But the short thing is, Joker and Batman are like the yin and yang. There is light in darkness (Batman) and there is darkness in light (Joker).

To write a good Joker would be to make all the things that are deemed "fun" and light, twisted into darkness and horror. Not always blood, but always horror.

Symbolism

I've already talked about this in tje screenshots so I'm gonna keep this short.

Especially taking the moment from Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins. The scene with the two ships.

What Batman and Joker, when they're shown together, represent is the goodness and evil in humanity.

The reason why Joker wins as much as he does is because of how humanity is. I believe that through Joker's character, the writers were sending a message. A message about how evil humans can be. And whenever Joker wins, it's always because of humanity's dark, twisted, horrifying, sick nature.

Whenever Batman wins though, it's always because of humanity's good, gentle, nurturing, protective, kind nature.

The scene with the two boats proves it. If humans had given in to their evil nature, Joker would have won. But no, humans chose goodness, and so Joker lost.

It's a message to us. We hate the Joker so much becaus eof the disgusting being he is, because he represents the dark parts of us. The impulsive twisted thoughts that sometimes enter your head. But we also have a goodness in us, a Batman that is born of the evil. Take a trauma survivor for example, they could either become a Joker and continue the cycle of abuse, or they can become a Batman and stop it (don't come at me for this example, you don't know me, you don't know my past, and this is a simple, mere harmless example). Fiction is an echo of reality but reality is also often an echo of fiction and hwavily influenced by it (take the example of the creator of Alexa or Siri or whoever building an AI because they saw it in Star Trek. Or Star Wars. Idk), so the tale of Batman and Joker encourages viewers to make the right choice and choose the goodness of humanity.

Much like how children's shows and movies have a moral, this also has a moral but for more mature audiences.

So to write a good Joker would be to make him completely dependent om the idea that humanity's dark side will always win out. To write a good Joker would be to make his wins related to the twisted nature of humanity and his losses related to the kindness of humanity. (In a way).

Robins

I've said a lot about this topic in the screenshots too, so there isn't much to add to this section.

But I will reference this one comic - Robin #85. And yes, comic writers suck etc etc, but I do like the theme of this issue. That Joker is smart.

Like- c'mon. He wins against Batman. Makes plans with failsafes and contingencies and stuff so he can get away. He is able to escape from jail multiple times (something which normal inmates of Arkham can't, the ones with powers can, but Joker doesn't have powers). He is smart. Intelligent. Conniving. How else is he able to manipulate Harley so badly and turn Tim into Joker Junior?

To write a good characterization of Joker would be to write him as smart and clecer, not dumb and overlooking. Everything he does has a purpose and if he has run out of moves, even then he makes plans on the fly to escape.

So, the issue also gives some insight to his thoughts on the Robins. He loves the Robins because they're such a "fun" and easy way to win against Batman. But at the same time, he hates the Robins because they distract Batman and he won't be able to get his back-and-forth with them present. Remember, his primary motivation is to rival Batman because he cannot function without his attention on him.

He was figuring out his relationship with Robin during Dick's time. He found a perfect way to get back at Batman while reverting things back to the way it used to be by killing Robin during Jason's time. Tim's time as Robin threw a wrench in his plans and surprised him immensely because he was not expecting that, but he had Batman's attention anyway because of the stunt with the last Robin. So even though he hated Tim's Robin because he wasn't expecting him, he didn't mind too much. I haven't read much about Damian encountering Joker and I know Steph's stint didn't include an encounter with him, but I'm sure he has the same love-hate relationship with them.

To write a good Joker would be to include his conflicting feelings about the sidekicks. I'd say he would try to get them out of the way somehow so he can have his time with Batman (yeah, he's a sick twisted fucker alright).

The Psychology

How his brain works.

In short: his brain only works when Batman is involved.

Imagine the most obssessed person you've ever met.

Joker is ten times more obsessed than that.

This man- monster eats solely for the reason to torment Batman. He breathes solely for Batman. He does everything he does for Batman. To oppose him.

Its the old battle of good vs evil. And Joker is hell-bent on proving that evil triumphs.

So all the things he has done, it's pure evil. Pure darkness. Pure gore and grotesqueness.

Here's the thing: goodness has limits. Evil doesn't.

So the things Joker does, peel off his face then wear it, skewer people like a butcher, cut forced smiles, create a gas that makes someone laugh and laugh until they die-

It's all to defeat the force of good that is Batman. That is all that's in his head. Batman. Batman Batman Batman.

He doesn't even want to kill Batman. I am 100% sure that if he does manage to, he has plans to off himself after he has shown Gotham city and the world that humans are evil no matter what they do.

So, personally, I am in full support of Batman's no killing rule. Yes, I do understand people who like Jason's anti-hero morals, and I have my own thoughts on why Bruce is so particilar about that (most of those thoughts are in the form of my Lazarus Pit Tim Drake AU which is still in the works). Because if Batman kills, especially the Joker, he turns all of that symbolism - all of that goodness that the people have learmed to trust - into evil.

And if that happens, what about Superman? An alien who has the powers to raze the planet? What about Flash? Wonder Woman? Martian Manhuntet?

If Batman - stoic, unshakeable Batman - can turn to the dark side. No one will trust superheroes ever again. No ond will trust safe people, the people seeking to protect them ever again.

When they say "Joker wins", it isn't just a philosophical idea. For the DC universe, for its citizens, the phrase "Joker wins" means that the entire world is plunged into darkness.

It's a painful burden for one man, and Joker is determined to break him.

The Unsurprising But Still Disappointing Misportrayal of Joker

AKA, the conclusion.

I hate how so many writers have thrown away the key aspect of Joker's characterization. I hate that they've molded and made him into this weird guy who wants to kill Jason Todd again or kill Tim. I hate that they made him into a simple killer. I hate that they took away his purpose and are only making him do shit for the sake of drama than the key message and significance of the ancient battle between Batman and Joker.

Batman and Joker are iconic for a reason. When you think of rivals, you think of Batman and Joker because their characters are such polar opposites in a way that effectivrly sums up the key message of humanity's polar opposites.

If you took what the comics and media are doing now - taking Joker and making him do shit like sing songs, kill people cuz he likes it, peel off his own face and wear it, give him a daughter, make him really "love" Harley, make him a little too focused on Harley (because Harley was always a tool to him, a tool to complete his mission with Batman, it's why she was so severely fucked in the head cuz of him), make him get revenge against OCs and nobodies which aren't related to Batman in any way - and all the other stupid shit. If you took all that, and just that. And tried to make that rivalry as iconic. It wouldn't work.

If Batman and Joker didn't have such a clear, established fame as enemies in the world of media and comic books, if their rivalry wasn't so famous. Then the rivalry between Batman and Joker we have now would fade and dissipate. It would be nowhere near as iconic and well-known as it is.

Another thing about Joker is the Batman Beyond movie where Tim gets turned into Joker Junior. The writers mentioned the reason they created Joker as they did.

They wanted to make a cruel, jarring image for Joker but since they were a sort of kids' animation studio, they weren't allowed to do gory stuff or stuff like murder a child. But they still wanted something Utterly Messed Up for Joker to do to Tim in order to get back at Batman.

And so came the idea of the smile.

The creepy iconic Joker smile and laugh we know. They messed up the smile and laugh as much as they were allowed to so they could still show the crazy, messed up side of Joker. And I agree, a smile like that during completely inappropriate times is jarring.

Anyways, in conclusion:

If you want a good Joker character in you story, you have to remember that Joker, despite how messed up he is, is not some weird monster. His actions make him so, but really, the fact is that he's a man. And so, he has human emotions. He is smart, conniving. He feels happiness, he feels sadness, he feels anger, he feels tired, he feels pain just like any other human. Completely detaching Joker from his humanity tears his character because his character represents a part of humanity. How can we show human nature without a human present?

~~~~~~~

I love analyzing characterizations and plot and literary devices and stuff, and I love pulling my own interpretations of things, and I usually go in depth a lot of the time.

But the fact is, this is just my interpretation. It's how I choose to see and write a character. To be clear, I'm not ordering anyone to subscribe to this train of thought, I'm putting my train out there for people to have an option and see if they like it. You can interpret it all however you wish! You can change your character however you wish! No one can truly write a completely canon character because each writer is different and has gone through different things.

I like making all my characters human, even the monsters. But that doesn't mean everyone else likes seeing it that way.

And if you did like this train of thought, and you used it for something, I would bery much appreciate a tag linking me so I can see it and enjoy it and discuss it with you!

Whew, that was long. Happy writing!

Do you have any tips on writing Joker? I despise him but he’s a useful villain to make everyone’s life harder

I need some tips too. I’m about to start writing the ASOH sequel which will heavily feature Joker and I’m desperately trying to psych myself up haha.

He’s a very useful villain like you said, he’s into chaos and making things awful for other people, in ways that are unpredictable even to him. He’s a hedonist of sorts, in my mind.

I think despising him helps when writing him. The disgust helps me at least — that’s how I write Homelander. Gritting my teeth the whole time.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

doing chibi is a good design exercise bc it forces u to think on shapes n essential details, essentially thumbnailing ur designs. its also a terrible design exercise bc it ends up looking cute no matter what

[slavhew]

jakey + dirkjake sandwiched between my organic chem notes. a poem in there somewhere

[dykedvonte]

A Defense of Benny Gecko

Benny is more of a capable leader and person than people give him credit for.

Seeing as no one challenged his position as head Chairmen for 7 years and even then he only loses the position if he’s caught, killed or forced to leave. Yes, it’s also likely House wouldn’t have allowed him to be killed but he sure as hell would of found a way to remove him if he was causing too much unrest within The Tops power structure. Even Swank and Tommy don’t outright dislike him and more so are concerned with his recent secretive and shady behavior, emphasis on recent.

Taking all we know into consideration, Benny likely knew the future direction that he wanted to take Vegas but was so caught up in the plans to acquire Vegas that he didn’t think of how to make his dream a reality. Something he admits to in canon. I see this being used as the main argument that Benny doesn’t know what he’s doing at all but I see it more in the same vein as you can’t really plan something from nothing. The transformation of Vegas is a sensitive thing that he can’t really work on until he has it. The only reason he ran to the Fort prematurely is the Courier who was causing so much of a stir he would’ve likely been found out much faster, making all that planning for nothing if he didn’t take that chance.

Benny is careful (well a lot more careful than he is regularly depicted in fanon), the Courier being able to trace him was dumb luck on their part and his hair being noticed at the Fort is a realistically small oversight that even Caesar is disappointed in because he admits Benny got farther than he should’ve been allowed by his legionaries. The fact he can plan an ambush on the Courier or tries to quickly and concisely clean up lose ends that don’t lead back to him shows he’s not just acting on impulses or in the moment decisions. Or rather he’s quite good at thinking them out, whether they work depends on how you play really. This is all to say it’s 100% believable that Benny could lead an independent Vegas (house was basically setting him up to do that). If he had known explicitly that House was setting him up to replace him, he likely would’ve bought more time by getting in closer, learning more of the system to then flip House’s edge to his favor. Again something he was doing already but likely without the knowledge of House’s feelings on him personally.

No matter what, Vegas’ future was tied to Benny; House’s plans for him, having to get the chip and if he had somehow succeeded. It’s also interesting that of all the people vying for control of the dam/Vegas, Benny’s plans are the only ones actually oriented towards a new future, not a recreation of something long past.

[ashoss]

obsessed with dick, jason and tim just. knowing? that this is persephone.

(long posting this bc i realized how long i got LMAO) i go on a huge tangent but trust i get back to persephone

(slight tangent - i feel like with dick and jason it would be alfred to inform them on the greek world? like. its something bruce told alfred to do with dick because bruce felt it he would explain it better type deal since alfred is the one actually involved with it.

however tim knew directly. janet probably had him grow up with the knowledge. (i wonder if janet went to camp?) so tim was already aware of gods, monsters, demigods, what type of metal to use, etc (after all janet would want her child to be informed)

stephanie. didnt know right away? she was probably with tim or something when venus showed up and was like. alright. another thing to add to the weird shit wrong with the waynes or something. but... venus and stephanie yap sessions (they shit talk tim)

((also another side tangent bc this is making me think world building .. i guess. i wonder how they get claimed? isnt it mostly at camp where that happens..? - ok looked it up and it says "when a camper shows some amount of their godly power or skill".. gotta find a work around for that hmmm))

cass probably knew.. some of it? she didnt know exactly what it is until she came to gotham and met w the bats. she just knew she had certain powers that could kill these monsters that some people didnt see.

duke however. i feel like is aware theres,, something he doesnt fully understand? i think his powerset in particular would be interesting to explore with this world. bruce would probably train him to see past the mist (to me hes not clearsighted) ((also also i wonder if one of them could work with the mist- like hazel or (cecil? was it?))) but i wonder how his powers would affect it. i feel like when he comes into contact with gods and goddesses he can see their aura? if that makes sense. he can see that they're. different. brighter. more powerful.

damian def,,, grew up around it. hes aware of it, the magic, the power, etc.... i wonder how he and persephone would get along.... (however again damian to me is the least explored in this au)

okay back to persephone and the batfam together..

persephone and dickie getting along together is soo cute .. sobbing... (which would break him more come MOA. teehee) they really areee spring siblings... her little birdie........ i think she would love the bright colours and bird name.

(bruce absolutely DOES have the mysterious woman board. he marks down everything she has said about Weird Stuff. like why does she talk about the ancient times as if she were there? why does talk about the underworld as if she lives there. why does she talk about his parents as if she still talks to them.

(like brucie at this point its kinda obvious)

"i should hope that no one here addresses me as such any time soon" from persephone, how only those in the underworld call her "your majesty" OUGHHH it made me think of jason when he died. do u think he went to the underworld? he was fated to return so why bother going there? i wonder if it was just blackness for him.

if he did go to the underworld he definitely would have gone to elysium. (... did thomas and martha make it there? did jason get to see his grandparents? do you think they were able to meet. being able to see them, tell stories with them, laugh with them unlike bruce was able to?)((however with how close they are to persephone i bet they would have made it.))

ohhh cassandra....... how much i torment u in this au...

ur so right.. about how she'd feel about persephone. persephone more so,, to me is the rebirth to hades' death? like how after a volcano, new plant life grows. that is persephone to me.

i wonder how exactly cass would feel about persephone and direct connection to death- (i mean she is the queen of the underworld no matter how much she is a spring goddess)

also oughhh the flower........ </3

i wonder if persephone did show up. if she could sense the distress the second little birdy was emitting. shes ough to have mixed feelings about his death because at least she could see him though.

ALSO bruce lost in time and MOA happening at the same time is SOO good

like tim's quest to find bruce is ALSO part of his quest to find venus and athena.

(dick breaking at the fact he just. cant talk to persephone. the flower lays crushed. wilted now because persephone is supposed to be here. the roses she had help plant are dying and they dont do that so something. is really wrong.

hehe

(@duskdawnallen )

ok this isn't eloquently said at all, but it was inspired by a batfam fic i love on ao3 called "way down hadestown" (which i love so much and highly recommend if you haven't read it yet). i was thinking about bruce/wayne ancestors and patron gods and instead of it being athena or hestia, what if it were persephone? patroness of bats, goddess of springtime, and queen of the underworld. on the one hand, she embodies growth, rebirth, and resilience, on the other hand, she has ties to death and is known as the destroyer. thinking about bruce has lost so much and yet can't escape death no matter how much he wants to because it literally blesses his family :')

PERSEPHONEEE IS SOOOO GOOD oh my god u cooked with this u cooked with this......

[gojooooo]

man i love open endings. the fact that thanks to yuuji there might indeed be the next time sukuna talks about in case some idiot decides to eat a finger again. and we need fics where yuuji is that idiot

[bibuckaroo]

absolutely hilarious to me that that side of the fandom think the buddie side is the delusional one because of the tim interview when the man himself CLEARLY stated that he had NEVER seen the fandom behaving this badly in all of his years working in the business and the only difference from all the other years to this one is the bt fandom, like genuinely lol.

he also stated about people coming to talk to him and using what he said when there are prints out there of their fandom doing this, like it’s not all of them obviously, just like there are parts of the buddie fandom who can be disrespectful too, but as someone who recently joined the fandom and saw the comings and goings through the years, i can safely say when a fandom is being too much on the disrespectful side and i saw that behavior way more on that side, honestly.