#anime ending: light regrets COMING THIS FAR- not his crimes. he sees l as another regret and dies.

[hellofastudysession]

am i rlly going to write a death note literary analysis when i could be doing other things

about the discourse going on in the tag abt "death note is acab and thats why the characters couldnt better the world with the note (/written in somewhat jokey matter)" vs "death note is trying to say we all have potential for evil, especially if you get a chance to insta-hurt ppl without repercussions, and it doesnt matter if youre a cop or not", i personally feel like it ignores the things that i like abt death note, which is "both of these things are true", and simultaneously "both of these things do not matter". the first part of this is dedicated to the first point, the latter to the last.

first point. i think its an important part of the message and themes (unintentional or not, and i lean on the former because... come on, can you really say the author intended you to not think of the cops as good people, at least compared to light and l) that light is a cops son, and that almost everyone who gets the death note is cop adjacent/thinks like a cop and is already corrupt/powerful when they get it (mello raised to think hed be just like l, yotsuba group is self explanatory; you cannot look me in the eyes and tell me teru "churchill" mikami, who was hand selected by light out of a bunch of rabid kira supporters, is a normal citizen). i appreciated the cop post bc its rlly important to not gloss over that aspect.

all of this would be an argument for "only someone like them would do something like this, and i am not like them, so im above them and immune to thinking about what id do with it", but... misa is the MOST important outlier in all of this bc her murders are solely selfish in nature and shes not doing any of this for "the greater good"!!! her nature of being an exception and still a very very bad person is really really important...

or it would be if death note gave a shit about her character at all!!! im not talking about her tragic side, im talking about exploring the ramifications of her killing people the way lights murders are (somewhat) explored. that would strengthen the message greatly! but shes dismissed and that weakens it overall. firstly, she's dismissed by the characters when l only sees her as a way to get to kira and basically shelves her the rest of the time. secondly, shes dismissed by the narrative when her character is gradually ground down to a stump and (not to sound perilously close to the bad takes ppl meme about) she never faces repercussions for her actions. every other character using the death note is treated relatively seriously, but misa just dies bc her love is dead. im not saying this isnt a... fitting punishment or that it isnt in character, but it doesnt fit snugly into the theme other people are talking about of "you reap what you sow" at all.

we do have something of an equivalent to misa's grayscale motives. surprise surprise, its light yagami. first is light's characterization in the musical (i will also note that misa never kills anyone in the musical). light's thinking is coplike, yes — he literally starts his first song by talking about "throw[ing] away the key" — but also, oddly enough, could be read as progressive and therefore sympathetic to tumblr ("let the corporations make the regulations / and hold no one accountable when everything gets wrong / let the rich and famous get away with murder / every time a high-priced mouthpiece starts to talk, his client gets to walk"). compare to the anime and manga, where his bigotry and pride and disgust come from a place of lukewarm dissatisfaction and boredom. the musical has much less time to play around with lights character, so it gives the audience something to immediately hook on. more on how that actually plays out later.

in the animanga, none of this is justified from the start. animanga light could say he was just killing people to make humanity way, way worse, and that wouldnt matter, because at the root of it, it was always his boredom that made him pick up the note. of course he actually believes in justice and believes hes doing the right thing (no, he believes he's doing the wrong thing, for the sake of the world... the right thing, because he is god...), but it was boredom at the start. all animanga light says about justice and righteousness and the law is a front in the end, bc he is exactly like l and misa — amoral. selfish. searching for entertainment. hedonistic. we know this. he kills naomi misora*. he kills lind l. turner. everything hes saying deserves to be dismissed from the beginning.

"but doesnt that mean you agree with the discourse post you wrote this post to argue against?" like i said, i agree with both of them! but i... still think its not right to reduce death note to the message of "the power to kill people is bad". because that is not exactly what the story is saying, even though that's literally its whole plot and therefore reaching that conclusion is self explanatory (lmao). let's look at the concept of mu. nothingness. "there's no heaven or hell". The Real Slay The Princess (Death Note Essay) Starts Here.

in light's final moments in the death note manga, while screaming about not wanting to die, he remembers that the first day they met, ryuk told light that "there's no heaven or hell. no matter what they do in life, all people go to the same place. all humans are equal in death". it is retroactively revealed that light knew this the whole time, operated under this knowledge for all the years we watched him — the knowledge that nothing he does is actually bad, that nothing any human does is actually bad, that shinigami are not "evil", that the universe does not care. that no one cares except humans. this oblivion absolutely terrifies him more than anything anyone could ever do to him. its what he thinks of before anything else as he flails there, screaming, dying. one could say everything he does after that day is him trying to escape that fact, or wrest control over it. but it doesnt work.

here are the lyrics of requiem, the musical's final song, sung over the bodies of l and musical light, a light who was at least somewhat good-intentioned at first: "sleep now, here among your choices / then fade away / hear how the world rejoices / shades of gray / gone who was right or wrong / who was weak or strong / nothing left to learn". this is the final message the death note musical and the manga chose to leave us with. there is no judgement. even after all that acknowledged hurt, after all the damage done, there is no judgement.

in the manga and anime alike, the world is just as fucked when light picks up the death note as when he dies. sure, we as readers can guess otherwise logically (and be optimistic, believing the world was never fucked regardless), but that's not what death note wants you to think. it ends with matsuda and another member of the task force noting how the world is worse again even though they killed kira (matsuda is clearly much worse for wear, but still determined), we see the shitty motorcycle band again, it ends with misa and a whole kira cult on a mountain even though kira died a long time ago...

its extremely important that light is never killed by any human or any aspect of the law. he is always killed by ryuk: a chaotic force completely detached from human sensibilities, one that does not care about good and evil. same with l; in the anime, manga, and musical, he is always killed by rems senseless, morally gray love (and you could argue in the kdrama that hes killed by love there too lol). justice is just a set dressing.

this is not just because death note is a tragedy, because good and evil can still matter in a tragedy. the theme of "nothingness" and "good and evil doesnt matter here" is also shown in a situation relatively unrelated to light winning or losing, or being good or bad. and its in fucking lawlight of all things. we all know ls not a good person. we know lights not a good person. this is tip of the iceberg death note knowledge. but the moment they start to interact, none of that starts to matter. textually, their relationship becomes more important than the people theyve killed and hurt. and the thing is? the thing is? THAT WORKS STORY-WISE. THAT'S ENTERTAINING. AND IT'S NEVER TEXTUALLY CALLED OUT IN A LASTING WAY. l and lights relationship, no matter how much i meme it, is genuinely important to the themes and "mu" because it makes it clear that despite all the pretensions, despite everything, this was never about good and evil. and it still works in the story. this is why death note is simultaneously a comedy — isn't the battle of good and evil supposed to matter more? well, fine, i'll keep watching this anyway. that suspension of disbelief comes crashing down the moment l dies, though, and a relationship built on nothingness (the "mu" sort, meaninglessness, not "character development" nothingness, theres plenty of character development) gives way to just nothingness (again, "mu", not light's post-l depression nothingness), forever.

(an aside: there is no one to root for in death note, and the only things to root for are either interesting character relationships, convoluted plots, or complete and total destruction: for everything to end so no more damage is done.)

not to say that death note does not encourage its readers to consider what damage they might do with the death note (obviously.), or that its characters never do. look at matsuda, a much easier heroic figure to latch on to than soichiro because of his unique place in the cast dynamic and because he's willing to consider both sides of the situation and kill light instantly for all he's done. its just that the story's own stance on the subject is... complicated by the existence of shinigami worldviews and by its own insistence that the world cannot change for the better.

also, this is not to say that this is executed well by the death note manga at all. it is a very strong tool, artistically, to establish and then violently remove any emotional connections between characters and make your story only about the exceedingly convoluted lengths characters go to to survive and catch each other so the reader can realize how ultimately pointless all of this is, but like... is that a good story choice if that's all you do? i would say not really. add in a good dollop of misogyny that destroys the second-to-last character who might actually be an interesting contrast to the rest of the cast's dull one-track focus on winning and justice, and youve got yourself a shitty story that... honestly still achieves what it went out to do, just not in a way id ever want to replicate.

anyway, back to the parts death note's actually trying to say. no matter what any human does in their life, no matter how they try to hurt or help the world, they all die in the end. hey, light, they all die in the end. once dead, they can never come back to life. and the seasons turn. and the world rejoices. and you say "goodbye"...

that's all.

no analysis of death notes overarching theme would be complete without nears final monologue, the definitive roast of light, the "you're just a murderer" speech: "what is right from wrong? what is good from evil? nobody can truly distinguish between them. even if there is a god." if we take this as talking about the actual god in the room (ryuk) as well as light, then near admits that humans will never be able to withstand these overwhelming forces and that, using justice and happiness and selfishness, they are just scrabbling to find meaning in things they ultimately have no control over.

but of course, near does not stop there. "[...] even then i'd stop and think for myself. i'd decide for myself whether his teachings are right and wrong." nears alright with not having control over everything, because near can still control nears own actions. these forces can and do exist, but they have no sway over nears own humanity — unlike light, who caved.

one of the creators of death note said they believe its message is "life is short, so everyone should do their best". the first time i learned this, i was like, thats... nice and optimistic, but an awful reading of the story! "life is short, so everyone should be desperate and striving like light yagami", who literally cut off other ppls lives for his own life? what character in death note are we supposed to strive towards when we "do our best"? they all do awful things with their lives! honestly, maybe they shouldnt have tried their best, if this is what their best is!

but with the view of "mu"... it makes a bit more sense. just a little. maybe.

there is no good and evil. there is only what humans think, and no matter what we do, we all die in the end. it is easy to be crushed and terrified by this in the same way light is, but what is more important than justice and righteousness and finding meaning is... doing your best. not being a person that hurts others too much. not letting yourself get swallowed up by an ideal. not going too far. and simultaneously, trusting yourself.

it leaves a few questions, though... was the currently dead l even a little bit right about his blatantly amoral approach, then? was there a point to this pain, and me slogging through this dumbass manga, and all the people that have lost their lives to a selfish teenage cop's son and the whims of everyone chasing after him? was there a point to any of this...?

the manga** never answers this. it stays clinically impartial until the very end. the musical is anything but clinically impartial (and i love it so much for that), and its ryuk that has the last word.

"there's no point at all."

of course theres no point. none of this was ever supposed to happen. that is what matters more than all the hurt and the crimes and the pain.

and that's... actually okay, because it's over now.

yes, death note has many really important themes present in its story, but its viewpoint is nihilism first and foremost. thats why its so fun and easy to play around with all the other messages, because no matter what fun or torment or awful things or righteous justice or absolute nothingness or sentimentality happens in between, there is always an end.

there is always the end.

[astersofthesky]

Reasons why I ship LawLight

It's been a year since I last watched Death Note and up to this day, it still remains on my TOP 5 FAVORITE ANIME (alongside Attack on Titan, Daiya no Ace, Gintama, and the Inazuma Eleven franchise).

Be as it is, the ship between L and Light holds a special place here in my heart. And today I want to talk about the reason why I am head over heels for this painstakingly beautiful ship.

For a quick heads-up. "LawLight" is a non-canon ship pair from Death Note. The two person involved are Yagami Light also known as "Kira" and the Great Detective L otherwise known as Ryuuzaki. I believe that their trope belongs to the enemies to lovers. They are also the most famous ship for the said fandom.

I admit that I am a certified fujoshi. So when scenes like walking together under falling sakura leaves, going to a cafe for their date to confirm their suspicions about each other's identity, and was even CHAINED 24/7 were shown, I can't help but ship them despite the fact that they are LITERALLY TRYING TO KILL AND CATCH EACH OTHER.

Actually for me, what makes this ship so appealing is their cat and mouse chase. A criminal and a detective. The spark and sexual tension apparent in their battle of wits. Who shall fall first? Who shall emerge victorious? And I firmly think that this dynamic between them is also one of the biggest factors why this anime/manga became such a success.

In the eyes of a shipper, some of their interactions are seen as a potential fuel to lit a burning flame called romance. Another thing, they also complement each other.

Why? Well, let's look at Yagami Light first.

Light used the notebook to alleviate his boring mundane life. Because of his high IQ, normal things don't ellicit excitement for him. Also, always hearing about everyday crimes, his strong sense of justice tells him to rid the world of this disgusting humans who continue to cause chaos for the world. So, immediately grabbing the death note as an opportunity to make his ideals a reality, KIRA IS BORN.

Of course, no matter how good the intention is. Taking lives is still a murder. And the fact that Light wanted to take advantage of the situation to become GOD OF THE NEW WORLD, it's true essence is slowly turning into selfishness. Just like any ordinary case, the police have taken interest, no, it's more accurate to say that they were FORCED to take interest. With no more cards to play, the worldwide police decided to ask help from their trump card. Yes, the world's greatest detective L.

Hiding in a single gothic letter and synthetic voice, Light had found his other half. The yin to his yang. Why you ask?

It's simple. L is the only person who can match his intelligence. Who can see through his barrage of lies and alibis. He was the only one who doubted him, the only one who almost sent him to his doom.

He was the ultimate obstacle Light needed to overcome. Because of this thrill, of this danger, Light found true challenge. Other than the joy of killing criminals for his dream, battling with L brought an unexpected bliss deep within his soul. Because of L, his once dull world had been painted with complicated colors. L is the only one who can understand Light.

He is his enemy.

He is his Equal.

He is his captor.

The same goes for L.

Being the number 1 detective in the world, I bet that cases has become repetitive for him. With his astounding deduction skills, he could immediately solve a case while eating his favorite sweets. Thus the appearance of Kira is a mystery for him.

A highly difficult game for him to solve and win. As he said himself, he is childish and he hates to lose. So in order to win, he's given away his identity. He steps out of his shadows and approached Kira himself. Maybe it's a call for responsibility, a call for justice, or a call for his pride, whatever his reason is, he's willing to risk his life.

When he made contact with Light, he had realized that Light is the only other person who can see through him. His trials, his tests. Light never fails to amaze and surprise L. He had even considered him his successor, even though he only used it to test Light, with the latter quickly grasping the subtle accusation.

He is his enemy.

He is his captee.

He is Equal.

No one knows if their relationship had gone beyond detective and a criminal. If they ever had a genuine conversation. One without lies and hidden intention.

A talk as L and Light.

Looking at a watcher's perspective. A single particular scene showed a glimpse of their relationship. The rooftop and foot massage scene who fueled a lot of LawLight shippers.

"The bells are unusually loud today." - L

At the rooftop, L had asked Light if he had ever uttered a truth once in his life. With Light regaining his memories, L knows that this attempt is futile, yet he still tries. And maybe, even held a little hope that Light would surrender himself.

Light on the other hand, as expected caught the meaning of his question, within that short silence, he contemplated his answer even if it's just for mere seconds. But because Light had already steeled his resolve, he chose to lie.

He had already made a choice.

And that is to kill L.

And L himself knows it.

At the stairs, an intimate scene between them is shared. Both are drenched in the rain, then L suddenly offered a foot massage to Light. For non-shippers, they say that it's a Bible reference.

But for people like me, it's simply nothing but a bittersweet moment where for once, emotions are stirred and shared.

The atmosphere, their longing stares.

Light drying L's hair.

The exchange of words.

It truly is a very painful and touching picture.

"It will be lonely isn't it? You and I will be parting ways soon".

L is known for not showing his true emotions. Yet in here, he bares everything. From the way he looks at Light and that slight curve on his mouth, like he's very regretful of something. Maybe it's because he wasn't able to personally give him the verdict or it can also be what ifs and what would they have become if they didn't meet in this kind of circumstances.

On Light, he looked shock and somewhat sad. They say it was an act, but the knowledge of his arch-nemesis soon dying, the one who has been with him since this "chase" started, the one being who gave him thrill and pushed him to his limits, the one who for months, was chained with him 24/7, the only one who could stand as his equal, the one who made him feel, losing that person will surely give you mixed emotions, and I believe that the sadness there is genuine, even though it had been overshadowed by his delight for victory.

It was only a for a short moment but for once, they've dropped all facades as they face each other as L and Light, not Ryuuzaki and Kira.

After L's death, Light is shown to have lose some of his sanity. I've read in a site before telling that L was the one who's holding his ground. And with him gone, with the thrill of danger gone, Light suddenly found himself at loss. He spent months trying to rid of his enemy. His disappearance had caused a void in his heart.

I remember a certain scene where Light imagined L sitting at his usual chair. His eyes were dead and devoid of color. That's where he also started to lower his guard down. For him, L is his only formidable opponent, his other half. He is his equal. It proves with the appearance of Near, where Light says that he's far inferior to L. That he doesn't deserve to wear his mask.

Light had come to respect L.

In Light's final moments, he sees L. A hallucination some says. But they're missing a point here.

The fact that L showed up, either his soul or an imagination, means that he had become an important figure to Light. Maybe he was thinking what L said during the times that they are wearing the chains.

"As long as we are wearing this chains. You and I are bound to share the same fate. If you die, I die." - L Lawliet

Yes, the chains are gone, physically. But because Light had allowed L to become an important piece of his life, he had secured the chain for L to held him captive for as long as he's alive...and if you let your imagination wild, even after death.

This are the reasons why I fell in love with this ship.

They're both broken.

One is blinded by power.

One had secluded himself from the outside world.

Their chase will never be forgotten. A game that only the two of them understood knowing from the beginning that they will never achieve a happy ending. This painful and bittersweet ship will go down in history.

[walker-journal]

The Versipellis of the 7/11 (Adam + Kaden)

Characters: Kaden Langley (Hunter-Liz), Adam Walker (Hunter-Tapir)

Summary: Kaden and Adam go to a canabalistic crime scene and find themselves tracking down a familiar foe.

Content Warnings: Gun Use, Head Trauma 

Lycanthropy and all its permutations wasn’t Adam Walker’s specialty. However Versipellis curse was something he had personal experience with. Adam had to force those memories down as he examined the cashier’s body, the man unrecognizable after being mostly cannibalized. The bite marks on his body resembled those of a human mouth in some places, but the size and jaw structure distended as the curse had taken hold of the perpetrator, twisting them into something that’d eventually chomped this guy’s head in half like a pumpkin gourd.

Adam began the morbid task of rifling through the victim’s possessions, constructing guesses from clues and what he already knew. The Hunter’s gloved fingers flipped through bloodstained debit cards and receipts in what was left of the guy’s wallet. Crisp electronic clicks began as Adam rubbed enough dark gore off a smartphone to sift through photos of family and the most recent texts.

It seemed like a form of desecration to so casually paw through a person’s life before their corpse had even cooled. Adam wasn’t a naturally nosy dude and felt only a cold pit in his stomach as he scrutinized this window into the everyday complexity of someone else’s personhood. But they didn’t have time to spare, and Adam had been conditioned to suppress any squicky sentimentality that might interfere with the mission.

“Our victim is Michael P. Brewer, thirty six year old man, five feet and nine inches, one hundred and forty three pounds,” Adam rattled off with militaristic dispassion as he knelt over what was left of the body. “He was about to get off shift, but his replacement attacked while he was busy with the punch card. The bites began at the neck until the perpetrator’s increasing bulk forced Michael to the floor, where he was eaten alive. He is survived by his wife: Crow Brewer,” he finished.

“The likely perp is Tammy L. Killian, twenty nine year old woman, black hair, about five-six from this photo,” Adam held up a screenshot from Michael’s phone where the now intact man stood smiling next to his coworker at a union meeting. “She was texting Michael about wanting to come in for her shift despite suffering a bite from a wild animal that ate her dog last night.”

Adam looked up at the more experienced Hunter. “What’s the call Langley?”

When Kaden got the call from Walker about a body in the convenience store, he didn’t hesitate.  As much as hunting gave him pause recently, he wouldn’t leave the kid hanging. Even if he had to squash the voice in the back of his head telling him to call it in to the authorities. Didn’t last long. Not when he heard the basics of the situation. This was stained with supernatural shit, no doubt.

The first thing he did when they walked in, after placing the police tape to keep out any one else who might wander by, was head straight for the security cameras. Technology was far from his strong suit, but years of keeping the supernatural secret (and keeping himself out of prison) was enough for him to learn a few tricks here and there how to destroy evidence. Lucky for them, the whole setup was far from complicated. Kaden ripped the cameras out of the corners of the place and slammed them to the ground before giving them a good stomp with his boot for good measure. He reached behind the counter and gave the CCTV screen there and the box attached to it the same treatment.

By the time he was done, Walker was already halfway through rifling the victim's belongings. There were times Kaden regretted getting involved with law enforcement. Times like now, when he had that nagging feeling that he was going against his duty as WCPD. Examining the body before even considering reporting it. Still, his duty to the hunter’s codes went back far longer than any job and would endure long past that. Of course. Well, unless he-- That didn’t matter. The point was he was a hunter first. It was in his blood, he couldn’t walk away from his genetics even if he wanted to. He didn’t have to ask for details, Walker was good at delving them out as he went.

“Bite from a wild animal, huh?”  Kaden huffed out a laugh. They both knew damn well what that meant. “You said you thought this was a versipellis case,” he stated, leaning down to get a better look at the body. He’d seen injuries like this before. Unfortunately. “Gotta agree.”

He stood up, cracked his knuckles and glanced back over his shoulder. No sign of anyone approaching. Good. Kaden turned back and gave Walker his answer. “We find the monster. We kill the monster.” There was no gesture or further explanation. Kaden started walking, following the trail of destruction. “Looks like it burst out the back,” he added, heading through what was left of the back door. Maybe they had a shot of catching up with the beast before it found another victim. He didn’t want to call Michael P. Brewer lucky but death was preferable to being turned by a versipellis of all things.

“There was a Verispellis case earlier that turned a selkie feral,” supplied Adam as he followed Kaden out the back door. That was the danger of the Turnskin. A single bite could lead to a domino effect of secondary infections and people devoured alive. Kinna like a zombie but with some giant doggo skinbursting as a treat.

“However the infection ran its course in that selkie without the transformation taking hold and he’s been stable since,” continued Adam, making an effort to keep his voice professionally neutral, as if David Herring were simply just a witness to a case. The rational part of Adam knew that Kaden probably wouldn’t have a problem with his noodling partner, considering who Regan was. However, the reflex towards covering his ass so was automatic that Adam didn’t even realize how he was speaking until the words were out of his mouth.

Adam looked around the alley culdesac they’d walked into, Brick walls surrounded them on three sides laden with cardboard debris and dumpsters. The Hunter’s eyes scanned past the refuse to fix on long white claw marks that'd been gouged one far of the brick walls as if the back legs of something huge had clambered up side after a leap.

“There over that wall,” Adam noted, already in the process of performing a running vault that carried him onto a dumpster and then onto the wall.

“It bit a selkie?” Kaden’s brows furrowed as he glanced back at the other hunter. There were a lot of questions there. First off, how Walker knew a selkie, which one, why he didn’t take care of said selkie while feral, how he knew any of this, if this was connected to the case Rio mentioned. Before he could decide where to begin, Walker at least allayed some of his concerns. Only some of them. “You’re sure he’s not going to turn?” In the end, that was the only question that mattered, right? He wasn’t sure a selkie could turn, but he’d seen weirder shit. “Guess I’ll have to trust you, Walker,” he answered just as flatly as the other hunter had in turn. It was strange how easily it could all come flooding back every time, the harshness, the simplicity of it all. There was a right and there was a wrong and nothing else in between. And no time for emotions or questions like the ones clawing to the forefront of his mind just then.

Kaden followed what he could see of the trail of destruction into the alleyway with Walker. Sure looked right to him, onto the dumpster and over the wall it was. He gave a curt nod and was about to check the lid of said dumpster when Adam took off. “Putain,” he muttered to himself, huffing a sigh before pulling himself onto it and hopping up to the wall. Not about to run and vault if he could avoid it. He wasn’t as old as Oscar yet but he sure as hell wasn’t about to show off for no goddamn reason.

He surveyed the scene ahead of him, looking for any more signs or clues. The crushed trash cans strewn about the streets leading to a busted fence seemed like the right answer. Kaden waved the other hunter on and followed the destruction towards what looked like a construction site. A new building, an old building, hard to say in this town. Nothing lasted too long, not when there were monsters crawling out of every crack and crevice. Kaden held his breath and tried to listen deep. He didn’t hear much beyond the wind rattling the unsteady beams and scaffolds, but he could feel the pin pricks along his spine signifying that some sort of lycanthrope was nearby. Whether it was the one they were looking for, that was a different question entirely. “I think it might be cl--” A creak and a scraping of metal came from above. Kaden didn’t need to look up to know the growling was coming from the same direction. Shit. Guess they found it alright.

Adam ran over to a figure crumbled amongst the cinderblocks. He dusted off a man in his late twenties whose red hair was greyed the construction site’s powdery rubble. Adam checked for a pulse and began cardiac compressions and mouth to mouth resuscitation.

Adam’s humanitarian concerns had drawn him farther into the construction site than Kaden. Evening’s amber light was broken by the skeletal silhouette of scaffolding and rebar, casting bars of shadow across the younger Adam as he attended to merciful procedure without enough care for his own surroundings.

A gagging cough signaled that Adam had been successful, and the Hunter helped his charge into a sitting position on one of the larger cinder-blocks. “Its Aaron Osheen,” Adam explained. “One of Killian’s coworkers...aw shit.” It was then that Adam got a better look at his rescuee, including the deep well of blood on Aaron’s calf. “Hey uh Langley we got a bite here…” However this thought was cut off as metal screeching and growling descended from above.

Kaden’s eyes were scanning along the scaffolds for any signs of claws and fangs. He saw a flash of motion somewhere in the distance when Walker called out to him. His attention shot around to see the other hunter standing over a victim. “How bad does it loo-- a bite?” Before Kaden could utter a single French curse word let alone the slew of them he had planned, a monster leapt out from the metal tower towards them.

He raised the gun in his hand and let the shots fly towards the beast, bangs ringing out in empty site. One hit. Enough to slow it, not enough to stop it. Kaden shot again, out of rounds. It closed in and reloading wasn’t an option. He reached for his knife and threw himself to the side of the versipellis, slashing at its flank. It whipped around and he could feel its hot breath hanging in the air. Which meant the fangs were close enough to snap his arm in two. It swiped with its claws and Kaden rushed to its side again. Not fast enough to miss the talons sinking into his skin. But enough to give him the space to pull himself up the beams nearby. If he could get a vertical angle he’d have the advantage. He just needed Walker to hold his ground.  

Adam unslung his machete and did a pull-up on one of the hanging rebar poles. He performed a gymnast’s swing up onto what would eventually be this building’s second floor and faced the enormous wolf that was still covered in gore from tearing up a 7/11. As with many lycanthropes, ‘wolf’ was a crude generalization for the quadrupedal goliath of muscle and unnaturally proportioned limbs before him. It was far bigger than the largest kodiak bears and yet leapt from scaffolding and cinderblocks with a grace that was truly disconcerting in something that huge.

Adam moved to flank the thing trying to claw up Kaden, bringing his machete down in a two-handed slice down one of the versipellis’ back legs, mutant strength leveraging the blade straight through solid muscle. A howling whine of pain rewarded the raw aggression, and Adam succeeded in gaining the giant lycanthrope’s attention. He readied himself to be an elusive target while Kaden closed in for the kill from behind.

But pain lanced up his leg and Adam stumbled to one knee as something jerked his other leg off the scaffolding from below.

In a critical second of distraction, Adam glanced down into the bloodshot eyes of Aaron Osheen. The cashier has sunk his teeth into Adam’s leg, foaming spittle mixing with the Hunter’s blood. Aaron has clambered after Adam in a cursed frenzy, frantically trying to drag him down to the second floor to devour.

Kaden scrambled onto the ledge and reached for his second gun. His hand was around the handle, aimed, ready to let loose on the snarling beast below when he saw Walker dragged off to the side. Shit. The victim wasn’t a victim anymore. He turned his aim towards the other hunter and the cashier, thought about picking off a shot but it was too risky. There was no way to tell limb from limb. On top of that, the mass of fur, mange, and gore leapt up, clawing at the beams in front of him. Putain.

Kaden’s eyes darted and saw a platform across the way and sprinted. Hope this works. He threw himself across to the next patch of construction. He knew the monster could clear the space between them with ease but he’d made enough time to reload, fire a few more bullets into the lycan. The squeals and screams were a pretty good indication they hit, slow it, but it wasn’t down. And it was jumping to where Kaden was standing. He braced himself for impact as the claws came towards him. He knew he shouldn’t have closed his eyes, but some instincts were too hard to fight. He expected to feel sharp scratches of pain. Instead, gravity was giving way below them both. Fuck.

Adam watched Kaden and the wolf plummet down to the rubble of the first story in a tide wave of wood splitters and bent rebar. “Damn it.” He hadn’t been fast enough to grab Kaden out of the way, the civilian gnawing on his leg. Adam gritted his teeth and lifted both his leg and Aaron Osheen onto the second story with him. Fitting back rage at the feeling of his own flesh ripping in the cursed human’s teeth, Adam steadied his breathing. He needed to get Aaron off himself without pulverising the normie to death with too much force.

Adam let in one purposeful inhale, exhaled, and brought together both his hands on either side of Aaron’s temples, boxing his ears. Even holding back, the blow disoriented Aaron enough to release his jaw.

Adam hefted the concussed coughing guy off of him, tensed his abdomen, and flipped back up to his feet in one acrobatic movement. He looked down at where Kaden and the Versipellis had fallen, fastening his machete and drawing a silvered combat knife. Adam stood a running start before leaping down one store onto the Lycanthrope’s back from above, plunging the silver knife down into the beast.  

Kaden gasped for some of the air that was knocked from his lungs when his back slammed on the ground. Walker bought him a second to reach for his-- Fuck. Kaden went to wrap his fist around his gun to find nothing but wood chips in his hand. Weight pressed onto him and teeth flashed towards his flesh. He reached out and clambered for the first thing he could get his hands on. His fingers gripped the cold metal and he swung it at the beast’s head. Spit sprayed across the hunter’s face, but his jugular was still intact.

The wolf flinched, barely stunned, but Kaden pushed himself away, kicking his way out of the rubble. Gun was nowhere to be seen. He grabbed the small silver knife in his pocket. Not the best weapon, but it was the closest on hand. The monster had spun its attention to the hunter on its back, its claw reaching up to grab the younger hunter. No. Not today. Kaden thrust the small blade down through the monster’s foot, pinning it in place as it yowled in pain. Wouldn’t last. Was far from lethal. But he needed to buy time to bring out Last Chance.

Adam found himself in the precarious bucking bronco position of riding a Versipellis. He raised up the bloody silver knife to plunge it in again in search of a vital organ, but soon he was much more focused on trying not to be clawed off the lycanthrope’s back. Well aware that being dragged under the werewolf would likely end with his innards being raked out in seconds, Adam held on for dear life as he swung his leg narrowly out of the way of the annoyed wolf’s scratching claws.

Grabbing for any handhold as his world became a thrashing roller coaster, Adam’s every muscle was taut as he held onto to his grip and his lunch. Red-rimmed blackness closed in on the edge of his vision as an increasingly frantic swipe from the werewolf found purchase on his ribs. Adam had to shift his weight to the other side of the beast’s back to avoid being dragged down. Blood from his gouged side mingled with the puncture wounds he’d driven in the werewolf’s back, and Adam’s grip began to slip from the sheer amount of blood slickening everything.

Gritting his teeth Adam risked a one-armed hold around the werewolf’s massive neck to draw his silver knife again. He began to stab the blade into the Versipellis’ throat towards the jugular and…

Everything vanished in blackness and pain.

Adam’s ears rang with dull concussed clamor as he blearily opened his eyes. Blood ran down the back of his neck from where the Versipellis had ended the annoyance stabbing it from behind by intentionally ramming itself backwards into a cinderblock wall. Adam coughed and gagged up dark bile from internal wounds. He tried to summon the will to stand, and had gotten halfway to his feet and something slammed him down again.

Adam looked blearily up into the panting face of Aaron Osheen as the infected human opened his foaming mouth to bite down on the fallen hunter’s shoulder.

Kaden’s knife wasn’t in hand in time to stop the versipellis from throwing Walker across the crumbled construction like a ragdoll. His knuckles went white around the handle, his jaw clenched, and his heart pounding in his eardrums as he charged at the wolf. It made its move first, going straight for his shoulder. Kaden ducked to the right, the monster's momentum pulled him forward and it crashed into a support beam. Which might have been a good move. If a few dozen planks of wood didn’t come spilling down from above them. He covered his head, dove away but he got slapped around all the same.

The versipellis pivoted, pushed itself off the beam and pinned the hunter to ground. This time, Kaden was ready. Or he thought he was ready. He had his knife this time. But the monster sunk its claws into his shoulders, shoving him across the wooden beams, splinters digging into his back as he scraped across the lumber. Fangs found their way towards Kaden’s flesh. The hunter kicked and used every ounce of strength he had to brace against the beast with his arms.

Pain seared into his forearm as teeth pulled at his skin, tearing at it, shredding him. If he screamed or howled at the pain, Kaden didn’t know, couldn’t remember. All his focus, everything was on the knife. Bringing it down, digging it directly into its neck. Pushing it just a little farther and twisting it for good measure.

He felt the jaws around him loosen up and Kaden shoved the monster off of him. It was fading. Not fast enough. Kaden pushed himself up, was just about to lunge back at the wolf when he heard a different sort of growl from behind him.

His gaze shot to Aaron. And Adam. The versipellis was dying. He wasn’t about to let a hunter die, too. Kaden sprinted over to them, stumbling over the mess of beams and debris, and reached to grab Aaron by his collar and yank him back.

Adam staggered to his feet, covered in blood and dust. He leaned against a pillar of riveted steel for support as everything swam with dark spots and white flares. The younger Hunter looked from the dying wolf to the still frothing Aaron. “Thanks man,” he managed to gasp to Kaden. “We’ll need to get this dude in confinement till…”

Adam saw the Verspellis lunge forward, mad with lethal pain. The wounded lycanthrope rushed towards them, a frenzied juggernaut of bleeding muscle. “Kade! Heads up!”

The pain was starting to settle in and the adrenaline was waning. Kaden had the cashier by the collar and was more or less contained, Walker was still breathing, and the versipellis was--

Kaden turned to see the wolf tunneling towards him. Aaron was tossed aside with as much care as the hunter could manage. Sharp claws and fangs lunged at him. Kaden inhaled, braced for the pain, and threw himself at the monster. It tripped back. Kaden jammed his silver blade into the versipellis’ chest. Gravity took hold once again. This time it was the monster that gave way, falling back to the ground with a shrieking whine. The hunter pulled the blade down and out of the beast’s chest. All that was left was the twitching as the fight left its body and the light left its eyes.

Kaden wanted to collapse. Maybe catch his breath. Give the injuries a one over. But they weren’t done. Not yet. He pushed his blood covered body off the dead beast and turned his attention back to the cashier. “Got any ideas?” he asked as he reached to contain Aaron once more.

“I’ve got a bunker made from a buried cargo container,” noted Adam as he leaned against the steel pillar. It wasn’t exactly the most glorious hideout, but it sufficed for having a discreet place to store things. “There’s plenty of MREs and water in there. Aaron can be locked in there till the curse wears off?”

Adam staggered over to the downed wolf. Death didn’t do much to make the giant predator less intimidating, or easier to get the hell out of here. Everything hurt, but that wasn’t any excuse to just leave paranormal evidence out in the open.  “I can bring the truck around and we can load it under a tarp?” “Hey Langley,” Adam turned his bruise-covered face to Kaden. “Thank you, like seriously, you saved my ass back there.”

Kaden’s brows furrowed. “You’ve got a what?” Aaron tried to pull away and break from his grasp. Kaden focused back on the cashier and considered knocking him out. Might make things easier. Shit, was it ethical? Aaron lunged again and that settled it. Kaden struck at the cashier’s neck at a pressure point, catching the body as he fell unconscious and setting him down. If nothing else, gave them time to tie him up to get him to that bunker.

“Sounds good.” Kaden sighed looking over at the dead versipellis. It was a lot easier when this happened in the woods. Leaving monsters there was never an issue. Concern creased into his forehead as he looked back at Walker. “You think you can make it?” Kaden asked. He was pretty badly hurt. Sure, nothing new for the likes of them but it wasn’t pretty regardless.

“Don’t mention it, Walker,” Kaden replied, offering as much of a smile as he could manage, finally feeling the weariness wash over him. “You saved mine a few times there, too. And I wasn’t about to let you die out there.”

Adam grinned, a sunbeam amidst bruises and blood. “I’ll make it Kade. Here, help me get this mega-furry in the truck.”

[theaurorfileshq]

R I L E Y   M E T Z E R  /  A U R O R   C A D E T

AGE: Forty

BADGE NUMBER: U81J33

BLOODSTATUS: Halfblood (No-Maj Born Father, Wix Mother)

GENDER/PRONOUNS: Trans Man, He/Him

IDENTIFYING FEATURES: That Sweet Sweet Louisiana Accent, Plaid Shirts, Dog Hair on Nearly Every Belonging.

STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES:

(+): Seer (Post-Cognitive, Almost Useless), Vehicle Proficiency, Animal Skills.

(-):  Extremely Weak Magical Ability, Avoids Conflict.

BACKGROUND:

(tw: mentioned alcoholism, murder, vague transphobia )

(i.) – childhood.

Their mother left early on, and when Riley was young their father hated him for the resemblance. He looked too much like her, even when he carved out a new body for himself, to better fit his shape. He’s the eldest child yet somehow the second son, always lesser somehow in his father’s eyes. There is a sense of otherness that haunts him through the years, one he can’t dwell too much on as he lays in his cramped bed, brother not more than a foot away on the other tiny twin mattress, in their tiny box room. Riley always blames the cramped circumstances of his upbringing for planting his anxiety in him, for making him afraid of big crowds and wide open homes.

He does his best to learn to live life on his own terms, to take care of himself and his brother and leave their father unbothered. Riley learns to cook dinner, and help with homework, and smile strained smiles at the grocery store clerk. Their father teaches him things young, leads by example. He tells Riley that if he insists on being a man, at least he’d better not be some kind of priss. He drinks too much and passes out early, and Riley learns to ignore the stench of beer on the couch, and learns to hide the way he looks at other boys.

His brother is special. They learn that young too. At eleven he’s secreted away to a world that Riley doesn’t get to be a part of. Magic school. He takes after their mother in a way that Riley seemingly doesn’t. Sometimes, he feels like he’s missing out on something. He feels like he missed a moment of revelation, like something should have changed when he was younger, but he wasn’t paying close enough attention. Sometimes, he wonders if he could ever be special, hopes and dreams to be something more than he is.

He gets a job as a teenager and contributes to the family, and lets his father teach him how engines work, how to drive. He has an anxious heart, and he’s a fucking weirdo, he knows it. People don’t like him, and he doesn’t want them to. Riley gets bullied at school, and bullied at home, and he swallows it all down and forgets it.

He regrets his wishing that he could be more, when it starts at sixteen. The… visions? He doesn’t know what to call them, but he learns to tell when they’re coming. They build like a vicious and sharp migraine behind his eyes, leave him dizzy and half blind, and after they hit he breaks out in sweats and usually empties out his stomach. His father doesn’t even notice, and the school nurse tells him he’s fine, nothing out of the ordinary. But he sees bloody phantoms, strange things he can’t explain. He sees Nancy Walker cheating on a math test that happened two weeks ago. He sees the Ryan boys playing ding dong ditch last halloween. Useless things. When he tells his brother, the reaction isn’t good. You’re making shit up, you just want to be special like me. He doesn’t know how to explain them in any other way, so he keeps his damn mouth shut, just like daddy taught him.

Their father disappears when he’s eighteen. It isn’t a surprise, and he’s done it before. A weekend long bender here, an extended trip away. Riley doesn’t think anything could have gone wrong, until a full week passes and he doesn’t turn back up. It leaves Riley feeling hopeless and helpless. He considers the police, what his father would say if he told them and everything was actually fine. He considers missing person’s reports, and people eyeing him with scrutiny, and he freezes up a little. Anxious heart beating fast, body aching with nerves. Sometimes, he can’t make words come out of his mouth, can’t form sound. When he’s nervous, he goes quiet. A defense mechanism, a last line of support. He picks up the phone to call the police, and can’t get the words out, so he just hangs up.

Riley figures that everything will be fine. Dad will come  home soon, and they’ll go back to the way things were. School ends and he skips graduation, glad to escape high school, glad to work more hours at the gritty and dirty mechanics down the street from their tiny cramped house. His brother comes home from school for the summer, and he imagines that everything will be fine, and then he has a vision. A hold up on the road out of town, where the land becomes wild again, swampy land and his father’s car, his father’s blood. They do go to the police, finally, but it’s his brother that does all the talking.

(ii.) – an education.

He strikes out on his own, after their father dies. Tries to, at least. His haunting little problem only gets worse, and his anxiety stops his heart more often than not. He’s a broken shadow of a thing, a strange man that makes people uncomfortable. He loses his job at the mechanic shop, and then at the grocery store, and then again at the other one across town. He stops and wonders why he’s doing this, why he’s staying in this town where no one likes him and no one needs him.

It’s a flight of fancy that has him selling his father’s house and moving out, moving away. He packs up everything they owned and sells everything he doesn’t want, everything his brother could do without. He finds pictures he’s never seen before, his mother with shining eyes, and she does look like him. There’s another man in the picture with her, and he looks like her too. A twin. He scours through the rest of the tucked away boxes, finds a letter from her tucked away inside one, and wonders if the address on it is still good.

He isn’t sure what he expects from her, when he finds her. He isn’t sure if he should be angry that she left, or glad that she never had the time to learn to hate him. Mainly, he just wants answers from her. He just wants something. He finds the apartment from the letter, on the west coast, and decides not to write ahead, not to warn her of his imminent arrival. A letter is a lot easier to ignore than a son on your doorstep.

She isn’t there, when he knocks. But the other man is. The uncle Riley never knew he had. His name is Alastair and he looks at Riley with sad eyes, and he has a kind smile, and he explains that she died a long time ago. Years and years ago. Before Riley ever knew where to look. Riley turns to leave, but Al invites him inside and lets him stay the night, lets him stay for a week. When Al asks if he can do magic, at all, Riley shakes his head. There’s nothing magical about him. He’s a squib, that’s what Al says, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t part of the magical world. But even that much isn’t right.

He’s at Al’s when the visions shift. Ever since his father, they’ve taken on a bloodier edge. No more math tests. No more ding-dong-ditch. Riley is the eternal victim now. He’s attacked, murdered, more than once. And apparently that means he might not be a squib after all. There’s magic in him. Just a bit. Just enough, and he’s very special indeed. Al gets in contact with an old professor, who gets in contact with an expert in the field of seeing the future, who gets in contact with an expert in the field of seeing the past. Riley reports the crimes in his head to the police, to the aurors, and forgets how to sleep at night without dreaming of death.

Riley learns magic from his uncle. It’s too late for school. He’ll always have missed something formative, something necessary. But he wouldn’t have thrived there, wouldn’t have blossomed. He learns all the theory, but he can’t manage most of the actual magic. A few spells here and there, but the rest is beyond him. He can boil a kettle, open a door, turn on a light. He can’t make a shield, he can’t throw his body across time and space, he can’t turn a teapot into a turtle. So, he doesn’t expect to go far in life. He gets a job in a diner and for some reason, Al lets him stay in the spare room of his apartment, his mother’s old room. There are pictures glued to the wall that he can’t get off, attached with magic that he’ll never be strong enough to counter. He could ask Al, probably, but he doesn’t have the heart to.

(iii.) – career progression.

Things go as they always do. He lives. It isn’t quite happy, his existence, but for a brief few years it’s the best it’s ever been. He has an uncle that loves him. Someone to count on. But Riley Metzer isn’t a person who is allowed to have comfort, and everyone he loves turns to ash eventually. Al dies, just like everybody else. Well, maybe not. It’s an accident, brutal in its simplicity, one of those strange things that could happen to anyone and everyone. He leaves Riley some money, and he’s gone, grief left in his wake.

Riley buys himself a trailer he parks out in the woods, and buys himself a dog. Tiny little thing named Titan, sweet and comforting, unlike any human he could fill his life with. He gets a job in the nearest city, at an all night diner, and tries to cope as best he can with existence.

There’s  this problem he has when he can’t ignore the things he’s seen. He’s become an eternal victim, and there are horrors unfolding before his very eyes. But he’s also the kind of man who hates to be seen, to be noticed, to be scrutinized. He knows now that his visions are real, but they’re still difficult to deal with, especially when it comes to no-maj police. It’s hard to walk into a station and give information about a murder no one is aware of, to give details that have never been supplied to the public. If he doesn’t want to be mistaken for some kind of weirdo serial killer, he has to do better than that. So he becomes the master of the anonymous tip. Phone calls from old, practically defunct payphones. Notes written on random scrap paper.

It’s easier with the Aurors, who understand at least in the vaguest sense that Riley gets his information through traumatic recollections of things that never happened to him. They understand he knows the details because he lived them, because when he sees a murder he lives in the victims shoes for a day. He’s been strangled, stabbed, and left for dead. Once, he was buried alive. He knows he can go to them and for the most part, they’ll get it – but he’s still strange, still  unusual, as far as seers go, and he still hates it when they talk to him for hours at a time. So he tries to cheat that system too, uses Al’s old owl to send notes to headquarters and hopes that they never track him down for further comment.

Of course, someone does track him down, eventually.

They appear in the diner in the middle of his shift, order coffee with too much sugar and a slice of pie. Sol LeRoux has kind eyes and what must be the brightest smile in the world. He must be a few years older than Riley, but he looks younger. Something sweet and bright and innocent inside him that sets him apart, where the opposite is true for Riley, old beyond his years. He flashes a badge that says he works for Central Squad, and Riley thinks his heart is going to beat right out of his chest. Sol is there for him, because of something that he saw, because he’s the man with the insider knowledge, and there’s a serial killer on the loose. Riley helps in every way he can, but there’s clearly more than that going on.

Sol looks at him like he’s something sad, but something with potential, and his heart doesn’t stop beating too fast. They stop a serial killer, and Sol tells him that he’s wasting his life, tells him that he could do so much more if he put his mind to it. Apparently, Riley’s tips have helped them close a dozen cases on the big squads. When he points out that he did all that anonymously, that he’d be useless as an auror, that he can barely do magic anyway, Sol smiles at him. He smiles and he shakes his head, and he looks at Riley with kind eyes. The words stay with him for a long time: well, i’ve seen your future, Riley Metzer, and I think you’d do pretty damn great.

Sol gets him into the academy somehow, and he passes as best he can. By the skin of his teeth, or by the grace of god, he does become an auror. Riley calls his brother to share the news, and the conversation is tense, the way it always is. Part of them will always know that Riley isn’t meant for this world, that no matter what anyone else says, he’s a pretender through and through. Still, Riley wants to hoard it selfishly, wants to be part of it for as long as he can, before they realise their mistake and take away his badge again. They assign him to the squad in Louisiana, and then to Washington, and then to Tennessee. He never expects for more than that, to be passed around to where he’s needed most, to be loaned out whenever he has a vision that might help.

He doesn’t expect MACUSA or Pacific Squad to come calling. But eight months ago they did, and then he began a life of bigger and better things. He moved his trailer and his dogs to the west coast for good, moved into a big office with way too many people, and had to fight just to make himself say a word. He’s still waiting for them to realise that he doesn’t belong, he’s still hoping that they never do.

[writing-yj]

Nightwing x Reader: Mockingbird’s Betrayal (Part Four)

Summary: Dick Grayson and Mockingbird’s last meeting ended in a heated argument, seemingly snapping every connection they ever had. He was Mockingbird’s last light to cling onto, but now, her sanity is left in the dark. After capturing Avia, Mockingbird exposed everything the Justice League and her former team had been hiding from the rookie. It almost instantly turned Avia against them, and the plan was set in motion. Nightwing isn’t prepared to face Mockingbird again, especially not after their last encounter. How much did she change since then? 

Word Count: 3156

Warnings: Angst (duh), swearing, fighting, i think some blood mention? But no one dies; I would have killed someone this time, but I wanted to get this out ASAP for y’all. I’ve kept y’all waiting for too long!

A/n: Oh boy. I started this really early, but we’ll have to see if it takes months again. 

UPDATE: Lol it did, my bad

Avia stared up at her bedroom ceiling, thinking about everything that went down in the past seven days. Getting captured by you, learning that everything everyone told her was a lie, planning to turn on them like you did.

“Mockingbird is a cursed name.” Avia thought. First you, now her. Your name became hers, and your name brought betrayal.

Every movement made her wince. You knew how to cover up your tracks well; they had no idea they were being tricked. However, Avia didn’t like that you had to rough her up a bit to make it look convincing, and she especially regretted letting you break a rib.

Due to your brief observation lessons, Avia slightly noticed that Batman was keeping a very close eye on her. Avia acted just like she did before, but that was a misstep. At her age, she should be at least traumatized or have nightmares. She should be wary, have some sort of fear or should be avoiding certain things. But none of that happened. It was like you never touched her.

Batman knew this and caught onto it fast. When he wasn’t protecting Gotham, he was constantly trying to figure out your course of action. It didn’t take him long to know Avia was going to join you, but he couldn’t bring her in or detain her just yet. Batman needed to find out when and how it was going to happen, first. Thinking about it so much almost got him punched in the face while fighting criminals.

He would never admit it out loud, but you specifically always had him alert and on his toes. You always left him one step behind, with one puzzle piece missing, not knowing what was going to happen next. More often than not, it infuriated him. At any point in time, you could start attacking the citizens if you couldn’t get to any of the heroes and their “sidekicks”.

On top of that, Batman had no doubts that the reason you turned so violent and angry was because of the wild animal DNA. It changed the color of your eyes for Christ’s sake, nothing else could do that unless you became a witch when no one was looking.

Previously, Justice League members made various suggestions on how to stop you. Imprisonment wasn’t a simple task and any normal prison wouldn’t keep you in for long. Arkham, maybe, but not forever. Keeping you in suspended animation would work, but it was more difficult that it sounded.

But, no matter how permanent the solution was, Batman refused to let them kill you. He immediately shut the idea down. “No. Under no circumstances are we going to kill her.”

“Look, Batman. I don’t want to kill her either, but do you really think she’s going to stop until she’s killed multiple teens? And I have no doubt that she will, at some point, go after Black Canary,” Superman argued, “Mockingbird has already confronted and attacked the team, and even took down Superboy with Kryptonite she stole from your safe. What is stopping her from hacking into it again? What if she finds another way to hack into Mount Justice and the Watchtower? The last thing I want is for her to be dead, but what if that is the only way to stop her? We need to be prepared for the worst.”

Batman refused still, “The only conclusion I can come to as to why she is still in this state is because of her wild animal DNA. The sheer rage has clearly been preventing her body’s trances that control the DNA, judging by how the last trance she had in Mount Justice lasted for two hours. I have gotten it back under control before, and I can do it again. The formula is still in my possession.”

“How the hell are we supposed to inject her with it?” Black Canary asked urgently, “It’s not like we can just knock her out! She knows how to avoid all of us and finding her is nearly impossible.”

Before Batman could respond, Green Arrow spoke up, “Nightwing was really close with her, right?” His observation was correct. The Justice League went silent and he continued, “Maybe Mockingbird will trust him enough to give him the chance to inject her with it?”

Batman agreed; Green Arrow’s idea was sound, and Batman already knew you had visited Nightwing. How else would he have known where Avia was? And he knew the bruise Nightwing got just after you disappeared wasn’t from crime fighting. He didn’t doubt that it was from you, but he had yet to confront Nightwing about it. The real question was why you hit him.

Batman took a moment to ponder, as did the other heroes in the room. It was a plausible idea, and was better than any other plan they attempted to come up with. It would end with you not getting hurt in the process, and would stop you from harming anyone else. There was an actual chance for the plan to be executed successfully.

“That seems to be our only option.” Zatanna said with a forlorn expression. “We will need that formula as soon as possible, Batman.” Her heart was heavy for the whole meeting. You didn’t hold her as close as you did with your original friends, but you still spent a few years on the team with her. Whether you would harm her was questionable.

“This is best best we can do without casualties. We will meet again once I finish the formula.” Batman said, and the meeting was done.

The heroes dispersed soundlessly, all of them with troubled looks on their faces. Dinah, however, looked broken and she moved the slowest. Oliver stayed by her side.

“Look at what I’ve done,” Dinah whimpered, “this is my fault. Everyone was right. I shouldn’t have done this.”

“It’s not entirely your fault, pretty bird,” Oliver used the endearing petname to comfort her. “We’ll get through this. We’ll stop (Y/n) and help her be okay again.”

Dinah shook her head and tears welled up in her eyes. “You know how violent the DNA can get. Avia told us how bad it is now; I’m positive that she isn’t in control anymore,” the first sob escaped. “If we can’t help her regain control of it, someone is going to die. And it might not be her.”

Everything was ripping her apart all at once, and she all but collapsed in Oliver’s arms. They sunk to the floor as she cried and cried. She took you in as her own when you were 12, traumatized and given powers you never wanted in the first place.

You learned to embrace and love your powers under her watchful eye and guidance as her first protege, the daughter she never had. It seemed like saving you and preventing casualties was merely wishful thinking.

-

You moved your hideout back into the basement of your childhood home. You found a way to make it easier to move all of your tech back and forth, and you had a few duplicates in your other hideout in Minnesota. You observed Avia in the Cave closely, and you also caught on to her behavior. You understood why she messed up--she was only 13 and had hardly any practice--but that made things a lot harder.

You spent half of your nights holding your head in yours hands, sometimes screaming and crying at the mental torture the wild mockingbird DNA was inflicting on you. You knew what was happening, but that consciousness was held back, almost permanently. Almost. The other half of your nights were for planning, preparing, and training. You thought of tons of different obstacles and events you would need to escape, avoid, or fight. You trained until you were sore, studied battle styles until your eyes burned in need of sleep, and you allowed yourself to fall into trances that were far too brief.

Your old team had little to no hope left for you. They held on for so long, but they realized that you were more than likely too far gone to help. They could barely remember the (Y/n) (L/n) they met so long ago. Happy, determined, devoted to the team, inspiring, and a dear friend. Now you were almost completely the exact opposite. They feared you--feared for their lives if they ever came to face you in combat. Many of them were terrified to confront you.

You still didn’t know Artemis wasn’t dead, but she heard about everything. After a certain amount of time, she became numb to everything related to you. Your name fell on deaf ears, both hers and Kaldur’ahm’s. Out of everyone, surprisingly, they had the least amount of hope. They didn’t believe there was anything anyone could do to help you. The only solution they believed in was to capture you and keep you contained, even if it meant suspended animation on the moon. Yes, you were a dear friend, but an even bigger threat to everyone.

Wally was just done. If anyone had anything to say about you, he wouldn’t hear it. He wanted nothing to do with you or the situation as a whole. If Dick even so much as spoke your name, Wally would tell him to stop talking or get out. He didn’t want to hear about the Mockingbird who was broken down to an evil, ruthless individual. He wanted to remember you as the old (Y/n). He wanted to remember your smile, your shenanigans, your kindness, and the hero you used to be.

-

You stared at the monitor with gritted teeth. After hardly any time, you knew Batman noticed how Avia was acting, too. You chucked a knife across the room with a shout and a curse. The blade pierced the wall, so only the handle was visible. The time window got a hell of a lot smaller, possibly forcing Avia to make her decision sooner than you told her to. It made you angry at her, but more angry at yourself. You should have told her to act the part of a traumatized 13-year-old girl, but you forgot. You originally thought it was common sense, but you knew that wasn’t fair.

“God damn it!” You snapped at no one and started to attach gadgets and weapons to your utility belt and back. You needed to go talk to her, let her know what happened, and ask her to make her choice right then and there. You watched the cameras until you saw her go home, so that became your destination.

But you didn’t see that Arsenal followed her.

You were one with the shadows of Star City, where you spent a great majority of your time being Mockingbird--back when you were good--and when you first became a hero. Dinah and Oliver hadn’t moved in more than a decade, so you knew the address by heart.

In no time at all, you were perched on the roof; a mere few feet away from Avia’s open window. Half a second before you stepped forward, you heard another voice, not Avia’s. Arsenal.

You quirked an eyebrow and got onto your stomach to blend in with the dark roof. You tuned out all other noises and instead focused on their conversation.

“Avia, I can’t take this,” Roy sounded so conflicted. “I haven’t felt this way and I hate it, but I can’t just push you away.”

Oh.

“I-I have feelings- wait, no, I-” he couldn’t find the right words, and you felt sympathetic. You were in a similar situation not too long ago: Being in love with someone you might betray.

Avia shushed him. “Roy...”

He sighed. “I know you don’t feel the same way, I don’t know why I even said it-”

“Shut your mouth and let me talk, redhead!” Avia got his attention and he did what she said. “I have feelings for you, too,”

You cringed hardcore when you heard them kiss. You were convinced that it was an awkward kiss, but that wasn’t what you focused on.

Your eventual protege pulled away from Roy with a small and bittersweet smile. There was a sad and apologetic look in her eyes; it concerned him. She had to tell him. She had to tell Roy about you and what she was going to do--what her reason was for leaving.

“Avia, what’s wrong?” Roy asked, completely out of character. “Did you change your mind? Am I not good enough?”

She looked even more sad after his questions. “No. You’re more than good enough, and I haven’t changed my mind... But you’ll change yours.”

Your eyes narrowed on something you saw in the distance. Way in the distance. You touched an almost invisible button on the side of your mask and used it to zoom in drastically. After many attempts, you focused on the approaching figure. Then you almost broke your mask.

Batman. And he was headed your way. He had a gut feeling that it was going to happen that night, and he was correct.

“Why would I change my mind?”

“Because I’m leaving!” Avia had to get it out before it was too late. “Everyone lied to me! Mockingbird didn’t leave for power!” She turned away from him and punched the drywall, her fist going straight through it. “She told me everything. She has proof, she uncovered all of their lies! I can’t be with the people I was supposed to trust!” Avia clenched her jaw as guilt started to choke her. “Mockingbird understands me and what I feel. She was treated like shit and lied to, too.”

It took a moment, but then Roy understood what she said. He took a step back in disbelief and his heart shattered. “You mean you’re betraying us?” Roy wanted to wake up from that nightmare. “You’re going with Mock-”

You chose that moment to swing into the window and you landed on your feet with a loud bang, not bothering with subtlety. “Is she going with Mockingbird? Yes, she is,” you stood to your full height with a face of stone. You looked menacing and it scared Roy, not that he would ever admit it. “because you all lied about me. Do you regret it yet?”

“I’m sorry, Roy,” Avia’s heart was hurting terribly. “I’m so sorry.”

You heard the woosh of a cape and your irritation spiked. “We need to go!”

Batman came through the same window you did, ready to fight. he wasted no time in going after you, and he was ready to take on Avia as well. He knew Roy wasn’t going to be able to do it because of how strong his feelings were for her.

You dodged one of Batman’s punches and you hissed, “Avia! Knock him out, now!” You hoped your sheer fury behind it would prompt her to get her ass moving, and it did.

Batman was barely landing any hits; the team wasn’t the only ones you studied. While he had more experience and more fighting tactics, there was hardly a move you missed. However, you weren’t perfect. The occasional punch to the jaw left you a little disoriented and getting punched in the stomach tended to knock the wind out of you.

You then elbowed Batman’s face and then kicked him square in the chest. It briefly knocked him off balance, giving you time to choose a voice--someone close to him. Alfred.

Before talking, you looked back at Avia and Roy. Sure enough, Roy was out cold, but Avia was sitting against the wall, completely distraught, but understandably so. You were definitely going to discuss that with her later on.

Batman wound up to deliver a brutal hit, but he froze when you shouted, “Bruce, no! Please don’t do this, this isn’t you!” in Alfred’s voice. Bruce knew full well that it wasn’t actually Alfred, and that it was actually you manipulating him, but you still got to him. Alfred practically raised him and had been by his side for everything. Just the thought of hurting him-

That moment of hesitation was what gave you and Avia the chance to get out of there, leaving two unconscious heroes on her old bedroom floor.

 -

Days passed after Dick got the news that Avia left with you. Of course you convinced her to betray the team, too. He honestly wasn’t surprised. He knew Avia was being lied to, and he didn’t want any part of it.

“Mockingbird is a cursed name.” Dick thought solemnly. Both Mockingbirds turned their backs on the team, but somewhat rightfully so. He wasn’t going to allow another hero have the name “Mockingbird” ever again, no matter who wanted it.

Dick simmered for hours and hours, angry that you took Avia, angry that she left, angry that everyone let it happen. He once again didn’t interfere, and look at where that got him. He was angry at you, Avia, the Justice League, himself, the team, and the world. No one deserved any of that to happen.

After a certain amount of time, he had enough. Dick knew you were occasionally in Bludhaven, so he was going to find you. He was too furious and hurt not to. That feeling didn’t fade as he put on his suit and his utility belt. He clenched his jaw so much that it hurt. His knuckles were white from how hard he was gripping his escrima sticks.

Dick traveled from roof to roof, trying to catch a glimpse of you somewhere. It wasn’t shocking that you were practically impossible to find; you were nowhere in sight. But Dick searched and prowled the city, turning over every stone and checking every shadowed corner. Nothing. No one.

He let out an anger-fueled roar, “Come out, Mockingbird! I know you’re there! Stop hiding and face me!” Dick probably looked like a crazed man on an acid trip, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was finding you and knocking you onto your ass.

You didn’t show.