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haeigoo · 3 months ago

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Compass (SJH)

ღ pairing: lifeguard!johnny x fem!reader (less beach stuff, i got carried away lol)

ღ description: nearing graduation, (y/n) spends the weekend at the local pool to unwind the stresses of school, when she meets Johnny Suh, who will be the change of perspective she needs before stepping into the next chapter in her life.

ღ word count: 2,015

ღ genre: ANGST, fluff

ღ warnings: YN HAS LOW SELF-ESTEEM FROM THE START (like self-blame, sorry), slight swearing, nothing sexual & i focused on the friendship more

ღ playlist: hate myself by dodie, heaven by maude latour, & karera by bini

ღ author's note: happy one year to me, for posting my first au here (coincidentally). this is personal to me & i’m very proud of putting it out there! <3

DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ!

“(y/n), we just finished our exams,” Mei playfully whined as she nudged your shoulder. “Let’s go out!”

“Where? I wanna stay in the city.” You chuckled.

“The local pool!” Mei rose up from her seat. “You miss swimming.”

“I wouldn’t know anyone there, except you.” You looked up at Mei and smiled.

“That’s exactly why we’re going!” Mei brimmed with anticipation.

While packing for the weekend, you were busy ruminating. Am I 100% sure?

You’ve kept quiet about your vices because you didn’t wanna be a problem for anyone to solve. The possibility of pivoting away from years of dedication to a craft, terrified you and if anyone, god forbid, were to find out, you wouldn’t know how to live with yourself. You indulged in the consequences in great detail, making you sweat profusely as your mind catered to every thought.

Hanging on the wall was your self-portrait from when you were young. Rough squiggly lines from a set of crayons your grandmother got you for Christmas. You had large oblong-shaped eyes and a rectangular smile on the piece of paper.

Imperfect but, you continued. She didn’t have a care in the world, you wondered.

The weekend finally comes when you hear a knock on the door, followed by a sweet tone which called out for you, it was Mei. Who else knows your address? you snickered. She dragged her small luggage inside and charged at you, with a snuggly hug. It just felt right for a moment.

“You look drowsy,” Mei, to her surprise, stepped away. “Was I too early?”

Your eyes widened as you took a deep gulp. If there’s one person worth telling, it’s her, right? you thought.

“Just amped up. Shall we?” You grabbed her hand and plastered a smile. After minutes without a bench in sight, you both arrive at the gate. Awfully spacious, you purse your lips.

“You sure it’s open? Looks like a cemetery.” You let out a laugh.

“Peace and quiet?” Mei giggled.

“Mhm, I do like the sound of that,” You continued. “I’ll just look around.” You left the resting hut.

Again, you were all alone but the fresh breeze did help you soothe your nerves. Walking slowly made you notice how poignant the red and white striped pool lanes were. The heat outside striked the surface of your skin as you brush your hair back. You couldn’t put into words why the constant stream of water keeps colliding.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud thud inside the restroom. The sink had sachets scattered messily around and a stack of kickboards were on the ground. Unbeknownst to you that taking one step would make you fall flat on the floor. The impact it had on your bottom was so painful, you couldn’t get up nor think clearly. You were greeted by a six-foot man looking down on the mess that is you.

“Shit, sorry! You okay?” The man hastily asks as he reaches out his hand for you.

“You think?” You said with gritted teeth. “My butt’s sore!”

“I’m Johnny, by the way,” Johnny hesitated for a moment before meeting your gaze. “What’s yours?”

“(y/n). But I’ve to go.” You slowly get up off the ground, with zero intent of letting him utter another word.

You were about to leave when Johnny tapped your shoulder. Something about his energy drew you in, so you indulge with what he has to say.

“A lifeguard’s not usually like this,” He continued as he scratched the back of his head. “Lemme make it up to you.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You brushed past him.

Before turning behind your back, Johnny was left standing there, stunned. Curiosity grew deeper and you knew you had to bump into him again.

Practically limping from your swollen bottom, Mei saw you from a far and quickly ran towards your direction. She sits you down at the resting hut with a towel on her back.

“(y/n), who did this?” Mei hands you a cup of water, voice trembling.

“I slipped on the pavement!” You humour her after taking a few sips. Mei lifted a brow in response.

“Just a clumsy lifeguard.” You winced. “But I’m okay!” You look into her eyes intently.

“Doesn’t look like that.” Mei’s voice dropped, avoiding eye contact with you.

“What’re you getting at?” You tilt your head sideways, eyes bulged.

“Just tell me, (y/n).” Her nostrils flare up, voice low.

You took a deep breath as you closed your eyes. You started to mumble, at first, but you kept going. You told her how you endured studying at such a prestigious university because of her and opened up about skipping graduation altogether.

“I brushed it all off because I had you,” Your hands fidgeted. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

“So you’re saying, it’s my fault?” Mei pursed her lips. “You lied to me.” She crossed her arms.

“No, because I’d lose you if I did!” You raised your voice before covering your mouth.

“You know what,” Mei tensed up. “Talk to me when you’ve come back to your senses.” She brushed her forehead with a puzzled look.

Mei dragged her luggage, left the hut without looking back. Shocked to your core, you knew begging was useless. Letting the person you trust the most to pull away was a guttural feeling. You cried yourself to sleep that evening.

You abruptly wake up as the sun hits the surface of your skin. You hear children laughing at the pool when you are interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Sleepyhead.” A glint of light shines from Johnny.

“I don’t recall nicknames.” You retort back, getting up as you rub your eyelids.

“What’s mine, then?” He exchanged.

“Stalker.” A chuckle broke out between the space the two of you shared.

“What’re you doing, aside from spying on me?” You questioned.

“If you must know, I work here,” Johnny said. “Pool’s full today and I need an extra pair of hands. Job’s yours if you want!” He offered.

“I don’t have experience,” Before you could finish, Johnny eyed you up. It was different from the day you first met him. He wasn’t clumsy, but incredulous and had you high on a new feeling.

“Relax, I got you.” Johnny reassured you as he placed both his hands on your shoulders.

Your cheeks turned a shade of red and you knew, he had noticed as before he shook his head. You rolled your eyes at him and nodded.

Your job began by preparing kickboards near the pool. Johnny left you to man the desk for a few minutes, you didn’t expect today to be packed. You took notice of a collision of waves splashing against each other. Opposites, you tell yourself. A different life you could’ve been living if you were honest with yourself versus the one you have today. You’ve dug yourself a grave deeper than your fingers deep into the kickboard you were holding, tightening the grip when it suddenly snaps. And it was your fault. A bunch of kids with dagger eyes, gossiping about you. Tears start to form and blur your vision from what’s ahead when Johnny catches up behind you.

“Let’s go.” Johnny breathed.

“I’m fine.” You said, reluctant to take his help. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Technically, you do too.” Johnny laughed. “C’mon, who doesn’t take breaks?” He pulls you up to take you inside.

As you walked through the door, silence welcomed you, but in a good way. Johnny gestured to you to sit at his chair before offering you a cup of water. As you take a sip, you let out a scoff, visibly coughing as your emotions start to burst. Feelings of overwhelm lapped you like ocean waves when you lay everything down.

“I stayed in a program because it’d be too disappointing to throw away years of sweat and tears down the drain,” Your voice low, head in hands. “Now, I lost my best friend.”

You glanced up to see Johnny quiet and for once, you actually felt safe. As you were about to continue, he stood up from leaning against the desk.

“I dropped out years ago.” Johnny said, jerked his head to the side.

Your assumptions of him were disproved, all at once. Nonetheless, your mind grew curious and wanted answers to why.

Johnny opened up about dropping out to pursue a myriad of jobs, eventually landing himself more experiences than anyone you could think of. It wasn’t easy, of course. People in his life developed grudges because there wasn’t any certainty in his path.

“Must’ve been hard,” Your eyes narrowed.

“But, I got me.” Johnny shrugged. “(y/n), you have so much time on your hands. Just gotta learn how to use it.”

“What should I do?” You asked with an empty look.

“You know what you have to do, (y/n).” Johnny grinned.

It was sundown and with residents leaving, it was just the two of you again. You’ve overstayed your welcome and couldn’t bear facing another day without Mei. You thought it was ludicrous to write to a stranger.

Thanks for everything, Johnny.

Don’t be a stranger, I’ll be at 29 St. C.U.P. id Auditorium @ 5PM tomorrow.

The morning of your graduation comes and needless to say, you should’ve been at the venue, but there you were, standing outside of Mei’s door. With a simple knock, you hear the twist of the knob turn, taking a deep gulp before opening your eyes was all that seemed certain.

“Spare me five minutes?” You asked.

Mei nods her head, still arms crossed and not uttering a word.

“I’m sorry,” You continued. “Just the program itself, but I was never lying to you about who I was.”

If it weren’t for the weekend, you would’ve never gained the strength to apologize to her. But you had arrived here, feeling a lot more secure of yourself.

“C’mere.” Mei pulls you into a tight embrace, arms wrapped around every inch of you as tears cascade down. “You’re gonna figure this out.” She said reassuringly.

After some time, you went home to prepare and as you were getting dressed, your mind wandered off to that weekend. You’d hope he’d show but brushed it off immediately. He’s probably busy, you say to yourself.

The auditorium was a street away and as soon as you stepped inside, it was a different atmosphere. A widely packed audience filled with people’s emotions gushing uncontrollably. Fellow batchmates called for your attention. This isn’t so bad, you thought.

You found your seat by the end of the row as the event began. The crowd grew loud with the heartfelt speeches that the professors and students gave. The time came to line up before the stage and you were growing uneasy.

“Next, (y/n) (l/n)!” The speaker exclaimed.

Your lips start to curl downward, eyeing the diploma. The dean shook your hand and pulled the other to slip the paper in. Unreal. The photographer was gesturing in front of you when your eyes veered from across the crowd, Mei smiling with her thumbs up close to her face.

And with a flash, you’re a fresh graduate. Still feels like pretend except you have the gown and diploma to prove it.

The ceremony ended with tearful goodbyes as trenchers were thrown up into the sky. You rose from your seat when a bouquet of flowers found its way into your arms.

“Excuse me,” Johnny continued. “I think you dropped this!” All dressed in his most comfortable sweater and slacks, accentuating his physique.

No longer fighting away tears, you accept what’s in front of you. “I’m glad you came.” You sniffled.

“No tardies.” Johnny snickered. “But, I’m really proud of you.” He leaned closer, meeting your gaze.

Johnny placed both his hands on your waist and you were expecting a hug, when he picked you up and spun you around. Giggles escape between the two of you.

You weren’t known for taking risks, but you probably wouldn’t be here without it. You start the next chapter of your life with a fresh take in mind.

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kimmysurveyblog · 5 months ago

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When did you last drink coffee? I've had two cold brews today.

When did you last cry? And why, if you feel like sharing. I shed a few tears last Thursday. My boyfriend had a doctor's appointment and while he's not my doctor, he's my daughter's doctor and he once treated me at the ER when I had derealization for the first time so he knows my history. Boyfriend just relayed the conversation they had when he asked how I was doing and I cried for a minute when he left the room. My life has been really hard lately and I usually keep it together very well but he just reminded me that... life has been really hard lately.

What was the last beach you visited and when? Not comfy sharing because it's close to where I live but we went a few weeks ago.

What book do you plan to read next? To Sir Phillip With Love. It's been sitting on my bedside table and I've been putting it off because I heard he's really awful to Eloise and it's not a good book. :( I wanna get to the next one so I'll read it eventually.

What fictional character/s remind you of yourself? Usagi from Sailor Moon. Not in the superhero sense, but the clumsy, sleepy, gluttonous sense.

What's in your fridge right now? List as many things as you can think of. We need to do a purge soon. Lots of fruit and veggies, yogurt, milk, condiments, cheese, pickles.

If you could have any artist, living or dead, paint your portrait, who would it be? No idea.

Do you smell anything in particular right now? No.

Do you make enough money to live comfortably? [can be in combination with a spouse] The lower end of comfortable but I think so, yes.

What is one thing you like about your appearance? Don’t say nothing! I like my eyes. They're hazel.

What would you like to tell your father? I miss you!! You were only here for such a short time but you made such a huge impact on my life and I will never stop telling people about you and how amazing of a father you were. My daughter will grow up feeling like she knew you, I promise.

What would you like to tell your mother? I still can't believe you're gone.

Whose was the last wedding you went to? My boyfriend's cousin.

What is your greatest fear? Harm coming to my child.

What is a chronic health issue you deal with, even if it’s minor? I have something called Chiari Malformation which only affects my life a little bit currently, however it is typically progressive. The migraines that come with having it are the worst. I also have quite severe anxiety.

What was your college major? If applicable. I'm a certified nurses aid.

What new place have you been to recently? Nowhere.

What are you a geek about? Shows that I like.

What is something you have no patience for? People who smoke around children. I smoked cigarettes for a decade and I was always considerate about where I did it. It just baffles me that people can simply not care.

What celebrity would you want to go out for a meal/drinks with? Tom Hanks.

Are you happy with your weight? No. I'm still +25lbs since having my daughter.

When did you last hold a baby, if ever? Whose? A few months ago. My nephew.

How many cats do you have? Zero.

How many dogs do you have? One.

How many other pets do you have? Lots of fish, shrimp and snails.

How old were you when you got your driver’s license? I haven't yet. No interest currently.

What year did you graduate high school? 2008.

What is the first number of your zip code? L.

How many of your grandparents are still alive? Two.

What is your favorite number? Don't have one.

How many kids do you want? I have one and I'm content with one.

How many apartments have you lived in? Two.

What age do people say you look? People don't comment on my appearance but my boyfriend insists I look much younger.

Do you feel like your family accepts you for who you are? To most of my family, I'm just a busy mom that is polite and kind so yes. There are very few people I'm comfortable enough around to be "myself", but those family members that know the "real me" accept me lol.

Do you feel like your friends accept you for who you are? Yes!

Who is the best doctor you’ve ever had? I like my current one. He listens to me, is very patient and understanding. I have an appointment to see him in 3 hours. :D

Have you ever been flipped off by a random stranger? Maybe.

Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? I've had Facebook for like... well over a decade so yes.

Do you consider yourself spiritual? Nope.

Do you consider yourself religious? Nope.

Are you afraid of spiders? Nooo. Fun thing about having a toddler is she's currently totally fascinated by and obsessed with bugs. It's making me take the time to get down and look at them too and lately I have also been fascinated by them lol! They're fun to watch.

Are you afraid of snakes? No.

Does everyone in your family know your sexual orientation? Yes.

What is one thing you find offensive? Using the word "retarded" to insult someone's intelligence. My respect for you will fucking PLUMMET. <- I agree 100%

Do you often post about politics on social media? No.

Would you ever want to go back to school? Yes!

What are three things you are naturally good at? Caring for people, painting... is small talk a skill?

What are three things you are NOT naturally good at? Cooking/baking, interacting with people beyond small talk, staying focused on a task for a long time.

Is your dream to get married and have kids? I have other dreams as well but yes.

Where do you hang your towel to dry after showering? There's a hook in our bathroom for that.

If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair? Nooo idea.

Last person you hugged? My kid.

How is the weather right now? 18 degrees, overcast and windy.

Are you missing someone? Not currently. I'll miss my mom when my daughter is asleep and I'm done being "on" for the day. That's usually how that goes.

What is the wallpaper on your cell phone? Flowers.

What do you have handy at your bedside? A book, lozenges from when we were sick, phone charger.

What is your dad's middle name? Darrell. What is your mom's middle name? Ann. First thing you'll save in a fire? My child, but if only referring to objects, I'd say my dad's paintings.

#survey #surveys #personal survey #bored #personal surveys

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thegoldenshi-shi · 6 months ago

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Hello Shi-Shi! It’s been a while since I’ve messaged; I always say ‘I’ll message soon, not in a month or so again!’ And then the time flies and it’s already a month since I messaged. Time sure does go fast these days.

I haven’t been up to much except more driving and school. Of course, softball has started up again! It’s Mondays and Wednesdays, while I still have Gun Club going on, which is Tuesday and Thursdays. But my competition is coming up, so Gun Club will be ending soon. I have a softball game today, so that’s exciting!

Despite not talking for a while, I do still come to your page to check out all your amazing art! I really like the Sunny drawings (ofc, he’s one of my favourite characters along with Prowl, Jazz, Sideswipe and Bluestreak ^^)

Also, I saw your thing about the Zine! I Hope you get in, I saw it and I was considering applying but I have quite a few things happening and one of the zines I’m in is coming to a close soon. It’s the Representation Zine!

I was hoping soon, maybe my next message, I won’t put the Anon on and the mystery of who is Meister would be resolved haha. I won’t lie, I like being anonymous 100%, it is a feeling of secrecy and once I stop being anonymous, that goes away but I’ve messaged you for around a year now.

Anyways, I’ve been off and on writing this as I am in school atm, so I’ll end it here. Have a good day/night Shi-Shi!!

-Meister

Hi Meister! It's so good to hear from you again~

You've got a lot going on from the sounds of things. I don't think I could scrape the energy up to do much other than vegetate in my room after so many activities, much less message somebody as frequently as you message me. I'm in literal awe of your stamina Meister O.O Still, all of that must be exciting! I hope you did well in your softball game and are having a lot of fun in your other clubs (and driving) hehe.

It pains me that I don't have more Transformers art to offer right now. For some reason I just can't find that robot art spark right now? But I'm glad you liked the latest pieces ^J^

It's also exciting to hear that you're almost done with another zine project. The last stretch is always the scariest, so good luck (assuming you haven't already finished your submission hehe).

I haven't done a zine in a while, and honestly this one makes me a little nervous. I have zero experience with Genshin Impact zines and almost zero presence in the fandom there, so we'll have to see how it goes. So I guess it's good luck to both of us~

I can't believe it's been a year since you've started popping up in my little corner of the internet. It seems like it's been no time at all and like it's been years and years at the same time. Like I say every time, I'm interested in the username behind the anon, but take your own sweet time coming out from behind the anon shield. The secrecy is fun, and I rarely come out from behind it myself so no judgy faces here. A little mystery can keep life interesting too~

Thank you for the update, and I hope you have a lovely day/night Meister. It's always a pleasure~

#meister anon #thank you for the ask #not sure how to tag this one #other than just an ask? hehe

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throwawaytumble · 1 year ago

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Hey, glad you're getting the validation you deserve! You're absolutely not in the wrong here at all.

To preface this, I want to stress that I am just an outsider with zero context outside of what you've told us and also that I think your way of interacting with children is the right way, but I wanted to shed some potential (futher) insight on why your brother might be reacting so negatively:

From everything you've explained, from your relationship with your parents to your brother's demands that you always go through him first, it seems to me as though he has maintained some sort of authoritarian view of parenthood. It's clear to me that your parents had a very top-down hierarchical parenting philosophy, and since your brother stayed with them and the farm, he probably developed similar views.

This form of parenting hinges on the parent as an authoritative figure which cannot be undermined.

In his mind, he lost his adult children because he lost that authority to his ex-wife, whom he believed used that to turn them against him. This means that if he loses custody of his kids again, his authority will again be undermined and the same thing will happen.

In his mind, by discussing the matter with his kids before speaking to him, you undermined his authority as a parent. He needs to maintain the illusion of an infallible authority (or fallible in certain small, acceptable ways) in order to maintain his parenting style. By telling his children that he either lied or was mistaken about something so big for so long, and in doing so undermining your authority as a babysitter as well as your credibility... That's a big blow. Of course he's terrified. He feels that he needs that authority in order to keep his children in his life.

Psychologically, it makes sense. Some of his extremely impactful life experiences had to do with family being cut off: you got cut off from your parents because they couldn't maintain their authority over you, and he got cut off from his kids because he couldn't maintain his authority over them. It sounds like you accidentally hit on some sensitive, unresolved trauma, and that's what caused his overreaction. To him, loss of authority directly connects with loss of family. I wouldn't be surprised if his ex-wives' cheating further compounded this complex.

So, in his eyes, he moved house specifically to be closer to you to try to reconcile with you (formerly lost family), he made some assumptions about your character and personal history that ended up wrong, and in response you did something that makes him risk losing more family (undermining his authority). As in, the family he took great pains to reconnect with suddenly turned around to jeopardize the rest of the only family he was left. He does, however, desperately want you in his life still, so after a little bit for the initial panic to wear off, he forgives you and just wants to make sure it won't happen again.

...Again, this is a huge set of assumptions I'm making, and I think it's an incredibly unhealthy mindset and type of relationship with parenthood to have, but this is what I got out of it. You both definitely have drastically incompatible mindsets on some things, and that can be hard to bridge even without the painful history you two share (and were unable to share).

But I hope my analysis is accurate enough that it might help you in figuring out your next step with the situation.

I am also under this impression and yes, both my brother and our parents took an authoritative stance on parenting. My question - and it seems that the majority of people have answered - was whether I was the asshole for undermining a parent's authority while not a parent myself, especially regarding our history.

Something I am compelled to explain here is that both as a Professor and doctor, my initial response is to immediately take control. In a medical setting, delegating tasks quickly and taking control of a situation asap is absolutely necessary, and as a Professor maintaining control of a classroom of hungover college students is also essential. I've spent a majority of my life around children, and I have worried (on my own, not based on anything anyone has said to me regarding his children) that I may overstep. I spoke to another professor about the situation and he took my brother's side, saying that before correcting him I ought to have called him first to ask how I should best approach it, and told me that unless I had children I wouldn't understand. My boyfriend disagreed and even convinced me to send the ask in the first place.

#answered asks #aita #am i the asshole #transfaabulous #for clarification

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spenciegoob · 4 years ago

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Pathetic and Tragic

Summary: It’s been years since the BAU has tried to catch this unsub, so when Spencer figures out where she is, why did he feel the need to go alone?

Pairing: Spencer x Fem Unsub!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: mentions of murder/blood, slight bondage, hair pulling, choking, gagging, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, slight degradation

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: Hi! This is for a contest by @spenciebabie and I’ve chosen the one-shot prompt why don't you make me?

Masterlist

____

The case was never supposed to last this long. Spencer knew that, Hell, the whole BAU knew that. A woman with ties to the highest degree of one of the most infamous organized crime families should have been the FBI’s top priority, and for a very long time, she was.

Then the case got complicated, and while Spencer’s mind clouded with an unbearable lust for a woman that would take his life with zero hesitation, the team lost one of their greatest players.

It was tragic in every sense of the word, the way Spencer’s mind replayed their first interaction, his lips feeling her breath on him after all this time, and the bullet that always rested in his bag.

He felt pathetic in that moment, letting her take control of his morals with her vice like grip on his mind, body and soul.

“FBI, freeze. Don’t move.” Finally, the BAU had found who they were looking for since her first appearance on their radar 8 months ago. More importantly, Spencer caught her trying to flee a scene she had no business being at. She looked so out of place, the blood and gore that laid a trail to her small, almost fragile figure making Spencer believe for a split second that she couldn’t have possibly done this.

But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when she turned around to flash a wicked smile his way.

And Spencer Reid was the one who froze instead.

“Doctor,” she greeted with the utmost of poise and delicacy. “I do believe I have a job to do, so I’m sorry to inform you that I cannot follow your request at this time.”

She was taunting him, and Spencer would fall into that trap again and again if it meant her eyes remained on his.

But this was a criminal, a murderer, a sociopath, and he will not lose his footing this time. Not even for a flawless god-like woman.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murder of Tristen Kepler, Michael Gerdinski and Harold Bennet.” Spencer’s voice was slowly losing its confidence as her face turned from one of pure hilarity to confusion.

“Is that all? You might be missing a few names.” She was proud of her work, it was insufferable. Spencer’s anger level was slowly rising, and if she continued to dance circles around his mind, the task at hand being forgotten, it was going to get dangerously high.

“You won’t shoot me, Dr. Reid,” she continued as she took a step towards him, the grip on his gun tightened.

“How do you know?” Spencer’s voice shook with the same uncertainty as his finger shaking over the trigger. She was right, he wasn’t going to shoot her, but Spencer couldn’t confirm the thoughts of a narcissist.

“Because,” another step. “I’m unarmed, and you, Spencer Reid,” another step. “Are a man of morals and righteousness, and justice.” She spit the last word with so much venom that the story behind her rage could have been the world’s most tragic villain arc.

The whole case was quite tragic.

“Don’t take another step.” Spencer was easily a foot taller than her, and with one scan could tell he weighed twice as much as her, but she still found a way to make his blood run cold with both fear and excitement.

“Or what?”

Spencer could’ve sworn he only blinked and she was directly in front of him, but that wasn’t entirely the truth. She had laid a fog over his mind, taking away his intelligence and peeling back every layer of his mind so only the thought of lowering his weapon in favor of getting on her good side remained.

She was challenging him to do something, but instead of the snake charmer charming the snake, she charmed him.

Spencer must have been hallucinating on the high of being closer to her now, but he could’ve sworn the crime scene they were in was starting to grow the same vines in the Garden of Eden, because there she stood handing Spencer an apple.

Like Eve, Spencer took it.

The second his gun lowered slightly, she pounced. She had him disarmed and on his back before he had time to process the feeling of her skin on his. If the impact to the ground didn’t knock the wind out of Spencer, her close proximity would.

She had a heel digging into his wrist closest to his gun that was only inches away, taunting him for his pathetic lust. Slowly, she bent down, entering the fog, black smoke mixing with his innocent, white cloud to create a gray that he wouldn’t dare call dull.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this, Spencer. Truly, I am.” Her eyes left his to scan his face before she reached over to his gun. The thought crossed his mind that she was going to kill him, but would that be so bad when he was breathing the same air as her?

She emptied the chamber into her hands, only leaving one bullet. He walked this road before, he knew his chances.

“One bullet, one chance.” She spun the chamber before slamming it back in place. “God, I really hope you live.”

For a split second, they shared a gaze clouded with desire for the other. Spencer let his mind fade into what her lips would feel like against his, or how her body would tremble under his. She had control now, but he knew from the way her eyes begged, even just for one second, she wanted him to flip the roles and take her right there. He would’ve too if it wasn’t for the cool metal that pressed against the side of his head.

Click!

An empty threat, yet she still smirked. “Today’s your lucky day, Doctor.”

She looked up to where a single headlight shone through the window above them, her hair trickling down to brush against Spencer’s neck, and he sighed at the small contact. It was pathetic, really.

“That’s my ride. See you around.” With that, she winked and ran off towards her getaway. Spencer laid there, taking in shallow breaths that escaped him during their interaction.

She had been stalling him, and he fell for it.

Spencer still carried around that bullet as a reminder. A reminder that he needs to catch her, she was too dangerous, and anything less than her being imprisoned for life wasn’t good enough.

It was also a reminder of how he felt when she was with him, over him, dominating him. Spencer never felt that helpless, that pathetic, that hungry for someone, and he wasn’t ready to let that go quite yet.

There was no new case that came in this week, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep that nagging feeling at bay when it came to her this case. They needed to shut it, Spencer needed to shut it, because maybe, just maybe, he could sleep better at night knowing he won.

“Delivery for Dr. Spencer Reid,” a voice called from the entrance of the bullpen. Spencer’s head shot around, finding a very harmless looking intern holding a small package in his hand looking around.

Cutting the kid some slack, he made his way over. “I’m Dr. Reid.” The kid smiled before handing him the little cardboard box. It fit in the palm of his hand, and was completely blank except for the small drawing of a snake on the top.

His blood ran cold, and his lungs forgot how to breath, just like they did a year ago.

A year ago today.

Spencer didn’t wait any longer, ripping the box open despite the strong glue that held it shut with its secrets.

Oh Spencer, hasn’t anyone told you not to open Pandora’s box?

The bullet inside rattled around the small container, one of the bullets that belonged to Spencer before she took them for her trophies.

She may have not killed Spencer, but she definitely took something more than just bullets with her that night.

He knew where she was, and she wanted him to.

Spencer could’ve told his team, hell, he was going to need the backup, so what stopped him from doing so as he raced for the crime scene that has since been cleared and reopened for the public to ignore the ‘No Trespassing’ sign?

Lust, lust is what stopped him, and it was pathetic.

Pathetic and tragic.

She knew he arrived, even if he turned the lights of the SUV off before pulling up the small warehouse. The air around her grew heavier with anticipation as she waited for Spencer to enter the room, no doubt waiting for the element of surprise.

She almost missed his light footsteps approaching her from behind.

“You’ve changed,” she called out. Spencer froze again, just like he had the first time. Was this pathetic enough?

“So have you,” his voice was calm, not caring for tiptoeing anymore. She was right, Spencer had changed, and now he took very little chances with instability.

“Yet here we are, repeating the same cycle as last year.” She turned to face him, and if she was less of a professional, she would have let her hunger for Spencer shine through. He had definitely changed, his hair was longer now, but still beautifully curly and framing his face, the one that was sharper, stubble on his cheeks.

Spencer was a man now, one she wanted to strip down to nothing both physically and emotionally.

“That’s not entirely true,” he shot back with a sense of cockiness to his tone, cockiness she had no patience for. “I’m not letting you go this time.”

She snorted, actually snorted in his face. “You cannot be serious. You think I would lead you to me just to turn myself in?”

“You’re coming with me, whether you want to or not.” There was no room for argument, but she had other plans. She saw the lust in his eyes a year ago, and though time passed, that passion when he was looking at her still hasn’t faded. She just needed to push his buttons a little bit.

“Why don’t you make me?” It was the final straw, the last drop of water before the dam broke, and Spencer made no effort to stop himself from taking her head in his hands and smashing their lips together in both anger and desire.

She moaned against his mouth, wrapping her hands around his neck to find their place in his hair. Spencer had other plans, because he grabbed both of her wrists before turning her around and bending her over the metal table behind them.

“Listen, Princess,” Spencer whispered into her ear, his lips grazing the shell as he bent his whole body over her to press her further. The cool metal was digging into her hips, but she couldn’t complain when it also meant she felt Spencer’s hard erection on her backside. “I’m going to fucking ruin you, and then I’m going to take you in where you’ll rot in prison for the rest of your life. Do you understand?”

“Only one of us is getting ruined today, and it’s not me.” Apparently, that was not the answer Spencer wanted, because he grabbed a fistful of her hair to pull her back against his chest, making her gasp and squirm against his strong frame.

“Watch the attitude,” he growled out before reaching down with his other hand to unbutton her black jeans. “Now let’s try that again. Do you understand me?”

She only responded in a whimper as Spencer’s hands reached inside both her pants and panties to run his fingers through her slick folds.

“Use your words, Princess.” She tried to grind down on his fingers, but Spencer was quick to remove them from her pants. Bringing his hand up to her neck, he wrapped it around before squeezing lightly. “Answer me.”

“Y-yes, I understand. Just please, Spencer.” She never would have thought that the awestruck doctor she wooed a year ago would be so rough with her, and the surprise just added to her need for him.

“Please what, Princess?” Spencer taunted.

“Just do something,” she barked back, immediately regretting her decision when he let go of her neck to push her by her head back onto the table with more force than necessary.

When she heard the click of his handcuffs, she started her relentless squirming. “What the hell, Spencer? I thought you were going to fucking do something!”

“Who said I wasn't?” He asked before completely ripping her pants down her legs, the cool air hitting her bare pussy, causing a shiver to run up her spine.

So this was the game Spencer’s playing.

“God, you’re already so fucking wet, Princess. Wanna taste you.” He gave her no time to register his words because Spencer dropped to his knees and licked a strip up and then down her folds, flicking her clit before taking in completely in his mouth.

Her mewls and groans bounced off the concrete walls around them, only urging Spencer on more. He suckled softly on her clit before flicking it back and forth repeatedly with his tongue at an incomprehensible pace. The knot in her stomach was forming, and at this rate, it was going to unravel fast.

“Spe-Spence I.. I’m g-gonna” Spencer brought his fingers up to her core, replacing his tongue with two slender digits.

“Do it, Princess. Come for me.” He pinched her clit roughly, and that was the final push over the edge, her moans loud consisting of incoherent curses and his name.

When she started to come down from her high, Spencer stood straight up again and started unbuckling his belt. She started to squirm and push back into him at his slow movements.

“I know you’re probably enjoying watching me struggle, but if you could please hurry the fuck up,” she said as she lifted part of her upper body to turn and look at him. She never got a good look, because Spencer reached out and slammed her back down before pushing all of himself into her waiting cunt.

She yelled out at the sensation, Spencer groaning before saying, “What did I tell you about that fucking attitude?”

He set a brutal pace, giving her barely any time to adjust before pulling out so just the tip remained, and then slamming into her with a rough, animalistic force.

“Ah, ah, ah, Sp- Spenc-” He grabbed her by the hair again, using it as leverage to pull her back onto his cock, making her scream out again.

“Shut up,” Spencer groaned out, annunciating each word with a thrust while he reached forward to shove two fingers into her mouth. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

She moaned around his fingers, causing him to press down on her tongue, gagging her. Spencer could feel the way she started to clench around him.

“You gonna cum, Princess? That’s it, cum with me.” Spencer’s thrusts grew sloppier as they both ran towards their orgasm together.

When they both finally reached their high, Spencer could’ve sworn he saw stars, his cock twitching in her pulsing warmth, milking him of everything. For a split second, their bodies had become one.

But time moves quickly, and the second fleeted when his actions caught up to him, and he ripped himself from her.

She was still shaking and trying to catch her breath when he undid the handcuffs that were burning her wrists. Confusion spread through her as she used her arms that still felt like jelly to push herself up off the table.

“Why... why’d you uncuff me?” Spencer looked up through his eyelashes at her from where he was redoing his belt, his face unreadable.

“Get dressed. I can’t arrest you half naked.” He looked away from her with a blush on his face as she bent down to pull her pants back up. When she looked back up at him from where he was trying to see from his peripherals if she was dressed again, she caught a glimpse of the man she met a year ago.

“That’s not the reason, Doctor. If you have a question, ask it.”

“Why’d you stop?” Spencer finally turned to face her, catching the surprise on her face before it morphed into that same wicked smile that rendered him helpless last time.

“Would you have come if I kept killing?” He didn’t have to think about his answer, it was the reason he was hoping was true.

“No.” She slowly stalked over to him, but this time she didn’t flip him on his back. Instead, she cupped his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to nuzzle into her palm.

“I still have 4 bullets,” she said softly. They locked eyes again, but this time, the lust they indulged in melted down to a mutual understanding.

“I’ll see you next year, Doctor.” With that, she walked around him, shutting the door with a slam on the way out, leaving Spencer staring at the silver with no attempt to chase after her.

Pathetic and tragic.

____

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind.

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer.

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.”

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear.

No.

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart.

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying.

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?”

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason.

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,” Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him.

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine.

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

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

Yeesh. That one was a lot.

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

#jason todd #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batfam #batman fandom #batman fic

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animepopheart · 4 years ago

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Wonder Egg Priority, Episode 7: The Scars to Prove It (or, Love for the Moms, the Cutters, and the Drunks)

Wonder Egg Priority (WEP) has felt like the successor to Puella Magi Madoka Magica in many ways throughout its run, but in episode seven, it almost went full Madomagi by driving the stakes to their utmost height—to the death of one of the main characters. But as has been consistent with WEP, what it did instead, after some moments of true worry, is to instead deliver hope in the face of pain, resolve against overwhelming circumstances, and strength in weakness.

The series returns to Rika Kawai’s story in this episode, which starts with her turning 14. And on her 14th birthday, after leaving her hungover mother halfway asleep at the bar she works at and which they call home, Rika opens up to the rest of the girls, explaining that she doesn’t know her father (it could be any of five possibilities, or even more) and her mom won’t reveal any further information about him. As she trashes her mom, Neiru and Momoe are incredulous, which only drives Rika away from them. And though Ai goes to comfort her, Rika is in a terrible state of mind as she enters her next fight.

This was a difficult episode to watch. They’ve all been somewhat hard since the series never shies away from brutal and violent situations impacting young people, but I found myself squirming especially here as Rika’s cutting takes center stage. At one point, she decides to cut herself and it seems certain she will, before her turtle-like partner, Mannen, prevents it from happening.

Challenging, also, is how strained Rika’s relationship is with her mother, who’s life revolves around drink—alcohol both pays the bills and helps her forget how miserable her existence is. And in the midst of all the bad behavior in this episode—the usual Rika talk, her mom’s alcoholism and neglect, and the selfishness all around, one begins to feel deeply sorrowful for the Kawai women. Yes, Rika is often obnoxious, but her family life is in shambles, and she still exhibits goodness, including a curiously gentle relationship with Mannen. And Rika’s mother is a tragic figure, used by men and quite on the road to an early death, it would seem, unable to lift herself out of the gutter as she tries, in her own sloppy way, to protect and reach out to her daughter.

It’s in this hopelessness that Rika turns again to cutting, and then finds herself tempted by something even more dangerous. Her foe this time is a religious leader who led the egg, a follower who continues to believe in him, to commit suicide as a way of “connecting” with the universe (Heaven’s Gate, anyone?). Rika decries the ghoul as a charlatan, but is confronted with her own weakness when the egg shows her own scarred arm to Rika, revealing that she can tell that the latter cuts just like she did. And then she explains that Rika can be released from this pain.

The scars, evidence of what Rika does to cope with her pain, now become the weakness that they truly are, revealing how hopeless she feels, and how powerless she is against the mechanizations of her family life. And defeated, she’s about to allow herself to be killed when a surprising savior comes along—a turtle. Mannen attacks the spiritual leader, to Rika’s surprise as well, until she remembers that he has imprinted on her. Rika is Mannen’s mom, and as he did when he prevented her from cutting, Mannen is again protecting his mother.

The conclusion that Rika reaches is unusual but inspiring. She understands, in this moment, the need to protect one’s mom, finally admitting to herself in a de facto way that maybe her mother is in need of love, too. It’s funny to consider the need that mothers have for love since culturally and socially, they’re always seen as the providers of it. But of course, they need it in return, especially when they falter. My own mother is sick right now, and I think of the support I need to give her and the lack of that I’ve provided through the years.

Warning: Screenshot involving cutting after the jump.

My mother was a good one, however. Rika’s, on the other hand, has struggled with the charge, which reminds me of a story from one of my favorite books, The Ragamuffin Gospel, about another bad parent—a far worse one, in fact, and a real one. I’ll quote part of the passage from chapter seven:

“‘Our daughter Debbie wanted a pair of earth shoes for her Christmas present. On the afternoon of December 24, my husband drove her downtown, gave her sixty dollars, and told her to buy the best pair of shoes in the store. That is exactly what she did. When she climbed back into the pickup truck her father was driving, she kissed him on the cheek and told him he was the best daddy in the whole world. Max was preening himself like a peacock and decided to celebrate on the way home. He stopped at the Cork ‘n’ Bottle–that’s a tavern a few miles from our house and told Debbie he would be right out. It was a clear and extremely cold day, about twelve degrees above zero, so Max left the motor running and locked both doors from the outside so no one could get in. It was a little after three in the afternoon and…’

Silence.

‘Yes?’

The sound of heavy breathing crossed the recreation room. Her voice grew faint. She was crying. ‘My husband met some old Army buddies in the tavern. Swept up in euphoria over the reunion, he lost track of time, purpose, and everything else. He came out of the Cork ‘n’ Bottle at midnight . He was drunk. The motor had stopped running and the car windows were frozen shut. Debbie was badly frostbitten on both ears and on her fingers. When we got her to the hospital, the doctors had to operate. They amputated the thumb and forefinger on her right hand. She will be deaf for the rest of her life.'”

Max—a real person, mind you—was a successful, well-liked man, but his drinking problem led to an unconscionable decision and profound failure as a parent. And yet, this book is about grace, an idea which to humans feels unjust, but which has the power to change hearts and tear down walls, sometimes literally.

Could Max be given grace? Could Rika’s mother? If not directly, she’s done her own physical damage to her daughter in the form of those cutting scars (difficult and perhaps triggering images below). As mentioned earlier, the egg that she’s helping knows her pain and insists that letting go of everything, including life itself, is the way to peace. After all, to a young, suffering girl, what else could these scars mean?

But in the midst of giving up, in the moment that she actually capitulates (and this episode takes you 99% to the edge, both in the cutting scene and in the apparent death scene), Rika experiences something powerful. She experiences grace.

Have you ever been challenged to forgive someone when you don’t want to, when you feel completely in the right? Maybe it’s easy for you, but perhaps it isn’t. The girls surrounding Rika experience differing degrees of this with her sometimes maniacal and often hurtful behavior. Ai forgives easily. Momoe gets fired up and then equally seeks to make peace. And Neiru…well, Neiru holds onto “justice” more than love (setting up what I imagine will be the most powerful transformation in the series of all, in true Homura fashion). But in the moment that Rika is about to give her life, the girls yell out their love for her, even Neiru, and then more profoundly, without any hesitation, Mannen puts his own life on the line to stop the death from occurring. Rika has already given up, but this turtle hasn’t—not for his mother, whom he loves very much.

And experiencing that love from a different angle, Rika is changed just a bit. She begins to see her weakness as a “mother,” failing her turtle-child, and thinks of her own mom who is overwhelmed by hurt and a failure as well. And if just a little—for as the final scenes indicate, it is just a little—the path toward forgiveness begins.

But a little bit of grace is like a little bit of a flood—its power overwhelms, and it defeats the enemy, whether that means bitterness, a physical person (or manifestation of one), or the devil himself.

When Rika returns from the event, having killed the cult leader monster, it’s interesting to note that she isn’t a wholly different person. She’s changing little by little. And her scars remain. In fact, as she admits, she probably will cut herself again. But strangely enough, those scars now represent something different. They show someone trying—failing, yes, sometimes considerably and maybe very often—but trying, and only able to try because love was shown her, and through that, she is now able to show love as well.

You may have such scars in your life, physical or emotional, battered by the world and by people. I hope that you can develop relationships that help you heal as well, and that you’ll also remember that there are other scars which are meaningful to you, but which you cannot see on your person, scars that were borne out of a desire to heal you. Christ took the piercings, on his head, hands, feet, and side, so that while your heart and flesh may be cut, your soul need not be. And through his wounds, you may be healed.

The grace offered through Christ is one that, as he explains about everlasting water at the well to the Samaritan, for now and through eternity. The egg seeks peace forever by dying, but Jesus, unlike the cult leader, died for us so that we may not have to. He took the nails, the cross, and the spear so that we don’t have to inflict pain on ourselves and receive the punishment of our actions against him and others. He is our scar.

That’s grace. That’s the power that it has. And it can reach anyone—even a terrible dad, an alcoholic mom, a tempestuous child, and, and most significantly and personally—you.

If you’re suffering and in pain, maybe self-inflicted, we encourage you to explain such to a parent or trusted adult and ask for help. It’s a difficult first step, but one that will help you begin recovering. And we also advise that you turn to Christ for help—in prayer, community, and scripture. He provides people to us that will aid us in our times of need, as well as himself and the Holy Spirit if we are believers.

Additionally, there’s a scene in this episode where triumphant, Rika concludes that cutting is okay. That’s said in the context of her moving forward bit by bit and forgiving herself for her failures, even the upcoming ones. That’s an important lesson, though we must certainly be careful not to let it be a license to continue cutting with impunity.

Wonder Egg Priority can be streamed through Funimation. Read more of our articles by signing up for our weekly newsletter.

#wonder egg priority #rika kawai #wep #pmmm #Christianity #tw cutting #blog

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ayuuria · 4 years ago

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Yashahime Translation: Animage Magazine March 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

The Two Beast Kings

At his daughters’ crisis, Sesshōmaru makes his satisfied appearance! It appears he has some kind of connection with Kirinmaru but their intentions are still unclear. In what way will the two beast kings be involved in the fate of the Yashahimes?

While chasing Tōtetsu who is the last of the Four Perils, Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha finally confront Kirinmaru. The three of them are overwhelmed by Kirinmaru’s immense power. Saving the girls from a desperate situation was none other Sesshōmaru. The impact of the clash between the two great demons shook the earth and was put to an end in a moment. While Towa and others are left pondering what the relationship between Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru is, they somehow managed to survive the fierce battle.

The spirit of the Tree of Ages considers Kirinmaru’s existence as one that should be killed. However, looking at his actions, they do not seem to be simply “evil”. Kirinmaru intended to defeat Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha as they were “the half-demons who would take his head”. However, he could’ve buried the three with one strike of his overwhelming strength. It appeared as though he was not taking the battle seriously in episode 18.

On the other end, although Sesshōmaru saved the girls from a crisis, it looked as though he was not truly hostile towards Kirinmaru. The meaning behind Kirinmaru’s words to Sesshōmaru “I will still have you work for me” puts a weight on one’s mind.

The relationship of the two beast kings who bare many mysteries. It might be a little longer before the full picture behind their motives becomes visible.

Character Bios

Sesshōmaru A proud, ruthless greater demon whose father is the Dog General. Towa and Setsuna’s father. (A man of) very few words, he does not show his thoughts for the most part.

Kirinmaru A beast king on par with the Dog General. He was in a long slumber but was awakened by his elder sister, Zero. Apparently, he’s trying to destroy this world to a degenerate state.

Jaken A small demon who serves under Sesshōmaru. Cowardly but helpful, he placed upon himself the role of child rearing and caretaker to Towa and Setsuna who had been taken from their mother not a moment after being born.

Rin Towa and Setsuna’s mother. She accompanied Sesshōmaru for a long time as a child and has faith in him. For some reason, she is currently sleeping within the Tree of Ages.

Higurashi Towa In order to save Setsuna who had her memories and dreams stolen, she searches for the Dream Butterfly. Her explosive power when Setsuna was driven to a corner was enough to leave a scratch on Kirinmaru.

Setsuna Even in the feudal era she sometimes plays the violin she borrowed from Mama Moe. The details on how she came to wield her favorite naginata, Kanemitsu no Tomoe, will become clear?

Moroha Although she is Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter, in order to escape Kirinmaru, she was placed in the care of the wolf demon tribe in her early childhood. She carries the sword Kurikaramaru, which she received from her master, Yawaragi.

The Mystery Behind Sesshōmaru’s Actions

14 years ago, Sesshōmaru took a newborn Towa and Setsuna from Rin and sheltered them in the forest of the Tree of Ages in order to keep them away from Zero and Kirinmaru. However, 4 years after that when Zero burned the forest, Sesshōmaru tolerated her actions. The intentions behind what he is thinking is unreadable.

The Dream Butterfly and Rin

The Dream Butterfly steals Setsuna’s dreams and takes them to Rin who is sleeping within the Tree of Ages. It seems Kirinmaru has something to do with the actions of that Dream Butterfly. What is Kirinmaru’s “profound plan” regarding the Dream Butterfly that Konton of the Four Perils spoke of? And what is the reason behind Rin’s slumber?

Moroha’s Master

Yawaragi, the wolf demon who trained Moroha who was separated from her parents and raised by the wolf demon tribe. The of two them broke their ties 3 year ago but reunited due to Konton’s trap and fight each other as teacher and student. During that battle, Yawaragi explains to Moroha how to fight without becoming Beniyasha. Putting her life on the line, she bestows upon Moroha the grand technique “Crimson Backlash Wave”.

The One Who Will Defeat the Beast King

The prophecy the Shikon Jewel once told Kirinmaru was “(The one who will destroy Kirinmaru) will be one who is neither human nor demon and can impossibly traverse time”. He seems to think it refers to Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha but the difference in strength between the three of them and Kirinmaru is obvious. Presently, it would probably be difficult for the girls to defeat Kirinmaru.

Inheriting the World of “Inuyasha”, Director Satō Teruo

Following the “Inuyasha” Rule for Shot Divisions and Presentation

— Director Satō, please tell us first the details of how you became involved in this current work.

Satō: “Inuyasha” was the first work I took part in as a freelance producer and it also taught me the fundamentals of production. Afterwards, I was the assistant director for “Inuyasha The Final Act” and because of that, they reached out to me this time asking, “We’re going to make a work that inherits the world of “Inuyasha”. Would you be interested?”.

— As a work that inherits the world of “Inuyasha”, what points do you place importance on?

Satō: Among the viewers of this work, there will of course be those who watched “Inuyasha” but reversely, I think there will be those who come to know of “Inuyasha” through “Hanyō no Yashahime”. I intentionally created the work so that when these people reach the point of wondering “What kind of work is “Inuyasha”?”, they’ll get the same taste (as “Hanyō no Yashahime”).

There’s also a task for “Hanyō no Yashahime” to “Inform the generation that doesn’t know “Inuyasha” that there’s a wonderful work by Takahashi Rumiko-sensei called “Inuyasha”.” Just like “Great Detective Conan” that’s also on Yomiuri TV, families can enjoy (the work) together as parents become nostalgic and the children have a fresh feeling. From there, it would be great if the children are told “There’s a work called “Inuyasha”.”

For that reason, I felt that I wanted to depict the characters that were carried over from “Inuyasha” in a way that didn’t feel off as much as possible. The serialization for the original work “Inuyasha” ran for 12 years and the anime continued for 4½ years, so I think everyone has a complete image of each of the characters within themselves. I’m conscious of trying to stick to that set image people have of “This person was this kind of character.” as much as possible.

— Director Satō, you were directly in charge of the storyboard for episodes 1, 2, 4, and 6. What sort of things are you mindful of as you create the images?

Satō: In “Inuyasha”, there was something like an ““Inuyasha” rule” for shot divisions and presentation. I wanted “Hanyō no Yashahime” to inherit those rules. Episode 1 for the most part depicted “Inuyasha” since then so we couldn’t exactly break away from that rule. However, starting from episode 2, if we suddenly used a different shot division method that feels as though it’s from a different work, the viewers probably wouldn’t be able to follow along. Thus, in order to show that rule from the start, I did as much of the storyboard as I could myself.

— What kind of rule is it exactly?

Satō: For example, how Inuyasha releases the “Wind Scar”. Also, I was frequently asked “Tessaiga is always written with dokkun (translator’s note: pulsing sound effect) but what is the “dokkun disposition”?” or “What is “mokomoko”?”. The pulsing Tessaiga does when it transforms is what we call the “dokkun disposition”. The “mokomoko” refers to the fluff that Sesshōmaru trails behind him. There are people who call the fluffy scarf worn during events like the coming-of-age ceremony “Sesshōmaru’s Mokomoko” and we call it “Mokomoko” at the production site too (laughs). Conversely, there are many people who give Setsuna’s mokomoko the same volume as Sesshomaru’s like in the “Inuyasha” era, and I remember at the beginning (animation character designer) Hishinuma Yoshihito-san was always correcting them like, “Please make hers more subdued than her father’s”.

— How do you do the shot divisions?

Satō: We use a sort of old-fashioned method of shot division that’s different from the current trend. Currently, there’s a lot of finely chopped, speedy shot divisions and while cutting battle scenes short is easier, we purposely make it one continuous shot so that the battle is endless. My thought process is that I want there to be traces of “Inuyasha” in that part of the screen.

Even the Effects Have Traces of the Parent Generation

— You spoke of Setsuna’s mokomoko but does she herself know of her father’s mokomoko?

Satō: I don’t think she knows. The clothes were probably given to her by her caretaker, Jaken, like “Let’s have you wear this” (laughs). Towa and Setsuna were named by Rin in episode 15 but they were babies, so they didn’t know. Probably while Jaken was in charge of educating them, he told them “You’re Towa and you’re Setsuna.”

— We heard that Moroha’s clothes is the same as Inuyasha’s “Robe of the Fire Rat”.

Satō: Yes. Just like the “Armor of the Iron Rat” that appeared in episode 16, it is made of fabric from the fire rat. Inuyasha himself is inside the black pearl and Moroha was left in the care of the wolf demon tribe, so Inuyasha couldn’t give the clothes to Moroha. However, I think the wolf demon tribe probably got their hands on something similar somewhere.

— What is the reason for Towa’s clothes being a school uniform?

Satō: It’s probably Towa’s own uniform for living in the feudal era (translators note: basically, it’s her way of dressing for the times). Her reason for dressing as a boy is because “It’s easier to fight in” after all, and it’s something I discussed with Takahashi Rumiko-sensei and (Series Composition) Sumisawa Katsuyuki-san many times. As to why we made her core like that. First, starting from her being a child that avoids the standard femininity, we came up with all sorts of thoughts like “Why not just give her an appearance with a Kyary Pamyu Pamyu like originality”. From within (those ideas), it was Takahashi Rumiko-sensei who came up with “It’s easier to fight in”. She said, “Rather than having a complex reason, wouldn’t a simple reason like this be easier to for the people watching to understand?”. That’s how Towa’s appearance and character were solidified.

— Towa’s weapon is also a little different. What she thought was the national treasure, Kikujyūmonji, was actually a fake, and she creates a blade with her demonic power at the part where it broke.

Satō: That part is probably also Sumisawa-san’s sense. Turning the broken sword into a demon sword. Even though she once obtained the real thing through Riku, the result was that she continued to wield the fake one. I think that part makes things more entertaining.

In a sense, “Inuyasha” was also a story about a sword’s growth. Inuyasha’s Tessaiga absorbs the demonic energy of demons it cuts and turns many techniques into its own. On the other hand, Sesshōmaru created the weapon, Bakusaiga, from within himself. Whether Setsuna inherited that or not is something to look forward to going ahead.

— How did you create the techniques for the three?

Satō: There are various techniques such as Setsuna’s “Scrouge of Swallows” and “Cyclone Burst” and Moroha’s “Crimson Dragon Wave”. The creation was basically Sumisawa-san coming up with the (kanji) characters and us coming up with how to portray them. We had the photographers match the shade and disposition of the effects to the parent generation and lineage. Towa and Setsuna have the same blue and green as Sesshōmaru and Moroha has the same yellow effect as Inuyasha’s “Wind Scar”.

We Want Towa and Everyone to be Happy

— Of the episodes that have aired thus far, which one in particular left an impression on you?

Satō: Episode 15 where Riku talked about the past. It was an episode that was related to the crux of the story and I think it was a crossroad of the past. The fact that it only appears as flashbacks to the three princesses who are the lead characters is characteristic. It was to the point that I was surprised on the day of the recording like “Oh, they’re not here!”. For this episode, we had Yamaguchi Kappei-san, the role of Inuyasha, do the commentary for the PR spotlight and it had an “Inuyasha” feel to it. Rin has grown-up a little bit but for her acting, we ordered that we “Want you to be conscious of childhood Rin” when addressing “Lord Sesshōmaru”.

— Episode 15 was also the episode that revealed Rin was the mother of Towa and Setsuna. What were you conscious of when depicting Sesshōmaru and Rin?

Satō: Regarding that, it was something I wondered about the most as an Inuyasha fan when my work in “Hanyō no Yashahime” was decided. Since Rumiko-sensei did not depict this, there were probably fans that had complicated feelings with how the relationship between the two is presented… In that sense, I’d say it’s best to make it so that the two can properly live together in happiness. How do I put it, it’d be hard to look at if things stay as they are.

— Director Satō, you yourself want everyone to be happy.

Satō: Correct. The moment “Inuyasha The Final Act” ended, I thought everyone would be happy, but it ended up like this… Based on the actions of the other characters, I would like to shape Sesshōmaru and Rin-chan’s afterwards in a way that everyone can agree to. Regarding Moroha, there’s the matter of when she will meet Inuyasha and Kagome. It would make me happy if you could pay attention to that part going forward.

— This month we published an illustration of Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru (P. 42~). Director Satō, do you have any situations you would like to see in future copyright illustrations?

Satō: As a fan, I would like to see the parents and children sitting together. “Inuyasha, Kagome, and Moroha would be there and beside them would be Sesshōmaru, Rin, Towa, and Setsuna” like they had a family gathering at New Years. I think that kind of situation would be fun. However, in actuality I think that might be difficult as the dog brothers don’t get along (laughs).

— In episode 18, Sesshōmaru finally appeared before his daughters and that created major movement in the story. Please tell our excited readers some highlights going forward.

Satō: Episode 19 is a story where the demon slayers play an active, albeit not serious, role. You could say it’s a breather episode and it feels as though the tempo is completely different from episode 18. However, please enjoy it while relaxing (laughs). Following with episode 20, Shiori-san, the half-demon who appeared in “Inuyasha”, will make an appearance. It is an episode where she and Setsuna will interact. Sumisawa-san thought that in order to depict half-demons, this was something that couldn’t be left out and Inuyasha walked down this path as well. Then, the final chapter begins in episode 21. Things will move all at once. Zero, who started appearing in episode 14, will especially be a key person going into the final episode. Please pay attention to her relationship between Kirinmaru and Sesshōmaru.

Having Takechiyo Around Is A Big Help!

“Takechiyo is fun to move. As a therapeutic mascot character, just him being there is a big help and he has room for growth going forward. From the start, Takechiyo was born from “having a character that could be messed with in some way or another like Shippō” but he feels completely different. Also, with Fairouz Ai-san’s tenacious acting, he has grown into a very good character. Apparently, he’s a favorite of Sumisawa-san (laughs).” (Satō)

Sesshomaru’s on A Different Level! The Role of Sesshōmaru, Narita Ken

Episode 18 was his first appearance outside of flashbacks. The impression I got was that it’s as though Sesshōmaru thinks Kirinmaru is “Not an opponent worthy of my time”. That’s why I didn’t even insert a breath and imagined that “he could easily win this” during the scene where they crossed blades. I also checked with sound director Nagura Yasushi-san like “Would you like me to insert a breath?” but he said, “No need”. On the other hand, Kirinmaru was taking breaths so I really think Sesshōmaru is on a different level. Even my impression of Hosoya Yoshimasa-kun was… the level is not the same. Just kidding (laughs). Hosoya is quite adorable so it was fun doing (the scene) with him. What will become of the relationship between Sesshōmaru and Kirinmaru is something to look forward to going ahead.

Today’s Diary

This month we visited Sunrise’s studio #1. The selection begins in the conference room lined with plastic models of Sunrise’s works. Hishinuma-san, what do you think seeing all these works we have collected? **

“We created “Hanyō no Yashahime” with the intention of simply gearing it towards the children of today, but there’s a wide age range of contributors. From elementary schoolers to those in their 50s, I can really feel that the work is loved by everyone. It seems there are many people whose deep-rooted support for us stems back to the “Inuyasha” era.”

Which character is the easiest for you to draw?

“The one who’s easy to approach is Moroha. There’s a part of her that resembles her father (Inuyasha) so at first, I was conscious of copying (him). However, over time, I gained the ability to bring out her uniqueness.”

Who is the most popular on-site? (translator’s note: aka the studio)

“I’d have to say there’s a lot of staff who say, “I want to draw Moroha!”. When the plans were stood up, Towa and Setsuna were the two protagonists but Takahashi Rumiko-sensei’s design of Moroha was so appealing that the 3 of them became the main characters you see now. That’s why I want the on-site staff to love on Towa and Setsuna more! Especially for me, I want to continue to sympathize with Towa and watch over her growth with the emotions of a foster parent. Of course, the parent that gave birth to them is Rumiko-sensei.”

The main story is finally approaching its climax. Please show us your enthusiasm.

“My main job right now is designing and copyright illustrations but the staff are working hard towards the climax that will be at the end of March. The story development is going to be hardcore, but I would be really happy if you continued to support us. Look forward to it!”

** Back story: This month’s Animage held an art contest for Yashahime with the judge being animation character designer, Hishinuma Yoshihito. Also, this page has a “One point lesson” on how to draw the 3 girls. However, that one is heavily image reliant so I will not be translating it (I do not post scans as much as possible).

#yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #yashahime: princess half demon #translation

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summerwritesfics · 3 years ago

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🩷I’ll Face Myself To Cross Out What I’ve Become

Characters: Kung Lao, Kung Jin, Cassie Cage, Sonya Blade, Johnny Cage, Jacqui Briggs, Takeda Takahashi, Kenshi Takahashi (No ships) Length: 2525 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Canon Divergence, Kung Lao & Kung Jin's MKX endings, Mentioned brainwashing, Verbal fights, Distrust, Mentioned guns

Mortal Kombat Oneshots Masterlist

Notes: Second of the giveaway fics! This time it's for @original-jade, who asked for Kung Jin and Kung Lao after their MKX ladder endings going back to special forces :) Title is from "What I've Done" by Linkin Park.

Rough terrain crunched beneath Lao's boots. Jin was slightly ahead, guiding the way towards the portal he'd used to come here.

"This feels like a bad idea." Lao really wasn't sure about this. Granted, he'd made progress since Jin had come to the Netherrealm, but going back to Special Forces seemed far too optimistic.

There were only a few ways Lao could see this going. First, he got there and was immediately shot down as a threat. Second, he was treated with extreme suspicion and thrown in a jail cell. Third, he got there and all the work to free his mind from the Netherrealm unraveled and the darkness overtook him again. He preyed that if it was any of those, it would be one of the first two. With what control he'd managed to regain, the thought of causing yet more harm to his friends was soul destroying.

"It will be fine," Jin assured him, "Just, remember what we've been working on."

"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one who's been brainwashed for two decades and now has to face the people you hurt." He didn't mean to sound so bitter, he knew Jin was helping him. It just didn't feel as easy as Jin wanted it to be.

"They accepted Major Briggs, Grandmaster Sub Zero and Grandmaster Hasashi back with open arms, I'm sure they'll do the same with you." Somehow that wasn't as reassuring as Jin seemed to think it was.

"They were completely purged of the Netherrealm's influence though," he argued, watching as Jin hopped over a rock and moving to follow him over it. "I'm just trying to suppress it."

"You are suppressing it," Jin corrected, reaching to grip Lao's shoulder and squeezing. "You don't have to worry so much, it'll be fine. I've got your back."

When did you get so grown up? The last time Lao had seen Jin, before his death, Jin was just a toddler, inquisitive and full of energy. He was surprised Jin still remembered him so vividly, clearly he'd had a lot more impact in his nephew’s life than he had initially believed.

"Alright, we're at the portal," Jin told him, and Lao looked at the swirling mass of energy. "Just follow my lead, and remember, if things go badly, I'll deal with it."

Lao just nodded, knowing anymore protests would fall on stubborn ears. He took a deep breath, and stepped forward after Jin and followed him into the portal.

Portal teleportation was unpleasant at best, and even as a revenant it still made his stomach do flips. But it was done with relatively quickly, and he found himself walking through into the grounds of Special Forces main base.

It took mere seconds for guns to be cocked and pointed in his direction.

"Whoa, whoa," Jin exclaimed, moving in front of Lao with his arms outstretched. Lao felt his heart clench at Jin using himself as a shield. "It's okay, he's with me."

"Shit on a cracker Jin, what the fuck are you doing?"

A young blonde woman gestured for the soldiers to stand down. Lao recognised her from the invasion, Cassie Cage, daughter of Johnny Cage and Sonya Blade. How that happened, Lao had no idea, and even as a revenant he had wanted to stop fighting to ask Sonya the hows and whys.

"Alright, I know this looks kinda bad, but trust me, this is fine," Jin tried to tell her but Lao could see from the look on her face she was not convinced.

"Our definitions of fine are clearly different," Cassie exclaimed, her eyes locked on to Kung Lao. Well, it's now or never.

"Commander Cage, I am Kung Lao," he introduced.

"Yeah, I know who you are." Cassie crossed her arms in front of her chest and Lao couldn't help but think how much like her mother she looked. "I'm more concerned with why you're here to be honest."

"I can explain," Jin told her, "just, give me chance."

Cassie looked conflicted, but eventually her face relaxed with defeat, and she nodded. She shouted a few orders, and the soldiers dispersed. Gesturing for them to follow, Lao did so quietly. He kept his head down, even as other soldiers stared and whispered amongst themselves. They were led into an interrogation room, sat across from Cassie and next to Jin.

Jin explained everything. How he went to the Netherrealm to find Lao, the work they'd done for Lao to push away from the Netherrealm's influence. Cassie listened, she had one of the best poker faces Lao had ever seen, must have gotten it from her mother. When Jin eventually told her that he thought it was time for Lao to come back to Earthrealm, Cassie finally voiced her thoughts.

"Where the hell have you even found the time to do this?" She questioned, speaking to Jin even as her gaze was on Lao. "I mean, between our training and looking after your sick Grandma, how have you managed to sneak going to the Netherrealm between that?"

Something in that statement stood out to Lao as he turned to Jin and questioned, "both your Grandmother's died before you were born."

Jin shot Lao a glare that screamed "shut up". Realisation hit Lao, oh that's the excuse he's been using to come see me, and it seemed to dawn on Cassie just as quickly.

"Dammit Jin," she hissed under her breath. "Well, if my Mom doesn't kill you, I fucking will."

"Look, I'm sorry I lied, but I doubted that you'd give me the go ahead if I told you what I was really up to." Jin shuffled forward on his chair, scraping it across the floor and leaning in towards Cassie. "Cass, please, all I'm asking is for the chance to prove that this worked."

"I... don't think I'm the one who can make that decision," Cassie admitted, holding one of her wrists and squeezing it. "Dad might be for this, but I can't imagine mom going along with it."

"Can we try? Please?" Lao asked, and Cassie looked surprised. He had to admit he was surprised by his own desperation. But the thought that at least Johnny might give him a chance was filling him with hope.

Cassie grimaced but said "Alright, I'll see what I can do, but I'm not gonna make any promises it'll end up good." She went to stand up and held a hand flat. "Just, stay here for now, if you go walking about I can't promise someones not going to shoot you."

"Noted." He watched as Cassie turned and left, closing the door behind her. Lao let out a breath and looked towards his nephew. "I think I'm cautiously optimistic about this."

"Told you this would be okay," Jin claimed with a large grin. "Hopefully Cassie is right about Mr. Cage."

Lao wasn't quite sure how long they were sat there for. It was long enough for him to start getting anxious about what was going on. The more time ticked by, the less optimistic of this having a happy ending he became. From the corner of his eye he could see Jin's leg bouncing.

When the door finally opened, he sucked in a deep breath. Cassie returned to the room, followed by far more people than Lao had anticipated. Sonya and Johnny were there, although Johnny looked far happier to see him than Sonya did. The other people Lao recognised from the invasion, but were not people he personally had much connection to, Kenshi and his son, Takeda and Jacqui Briggs. Why they all had to be in here, he wasn't sure, but he definitely wasn't going to let his guard down.

"Hello again," he greeted, trying to sound as casual as he could muster in the moment.

"Sup dude," Johnny replied, sounding like he was meeting with a friend he was in regular contact with, and not the remains of a dead ally from a decade ago. "No offense, but, uh, what the fuck are you doing here?"

"He's here with me," Jin interuppeted, and Lao winced at the way Sonya's eyes narrowed. "I've been working with him to fight against the control placed on him."

"How?" Jacqui questioned, crossing her arms in front of her chest and raising an eyebrow.

"We've been working on techniques to push it back and seperate it from my genuine thoughts," Lao explained. It was hard to articulate in words, but it was like trying to separate his brain in two, with everything from the Netherrealm trapped away in one half. But it was tricky, sometimes when he got angry it felt like that part of him was banging on a locked door, trying to seep through.

"We made enough progress I thought it was a good time to show you guys," Jin said. No one in the room looked all that convinced other than Johnny and maybe Cassie. It was very hard to tell when she looked so anxious, but there was some sort of hope shining in her eyes.

"Kung Jin, this is reckless even by your standards," Sonya finally announced, and Lao couldn't help flinch at how harsh it was. She had always been a hard woman, so it wasn't completely unexpected. "How can you be sure he's not just tricking you?"

"Because he isn't," Jin replied and Lao just about managed to stop himself from facepalming. It wasn't exactly the best defence he'd ever heard. "What's the difference between this and Jacqui's dad? Or the Grandmasters for the matter?"

"This is nowhere near similar to what happened to my dad," Jacqui hissed. Clearly this was a touchy subject. A button that was to never be pressed. And Jin seemed intent on pushing it.

"How is it not?" Jin was up on his feet before Lao knew what was happened. "What makes my uncle so different?"

"Because he's still a revenant," Jacqui argued back, waving her arms like it was the most obvious answer.

"And your dad would also still be one if someone didn't help him."

Lao could sense a fight was about to break out, and if that happened, he was sure they'd loose any chance to convince anyone they meant no harm. Jacqui made to move forward. He grabbed hold of Jin's arm just as he was about to launch at her too, pulling him back before he could. To his relief, it seemed Takeda was doing the same with her, whispering something that looked a lot like "relax" to her.

"Jin, calm," he instructed, resisting the urge to laugh at the turn of events. The last few months had been filled with "Lao, Calm". If the situation wasn't so delicate it'd be funny that he was finally getting to be the voice of reason. Jin seemed to notice the irony too, if the apologetic look he gave to Lao was anything to go by.

"Jin may be on to something, actually," Kenshi suddenly piped up, having been silent the entire he was in the room. His one hand was at his temple, and Lao wondered what he was doing. "The Netherrealm's influence is still there, but it's actually fairly well contained." Oh, he read my mind. A couple of seconds later a voice that wasn't his echoed in his mind, "yes, sorry about that," as Kenshi shrugged. "While obviously the ideal situation would be to remove it completely, for now, it seems to work."

"Thank you," Jin breathed out, placing his hand on Lao's shoulder. "I know the way I went about this was underhanded, but please, please give us chance to prove to you it worked."

Sonya made a frustrated sound, but Johnny was quick to chime in with, "I think we should give this a shot." Sonya gave him the filthiest look, but Johnny quickly held his hands up to placate her. "Look, if this has worked with Lao, then whats to say we can't do it with the others?" It seemed this was a concept no one else had really considered, if the contemplative looks were anything to go by. "With Quan Chi in the morgue, this may be the next best plan we've got."

"And if it goes terribly wrong?"

"Then you can put all the blame on me," Johnny offered, before glancing across at Jin. "And Kung Jin, but mostly me."

Sonya stared at him for a solid minute, before turning her gaze to Jin and Lao. Lao felt Jin's grasp on his shoulder tighten ever so slightly.

"Okay, but this had better not be a trick," Sonya finally conceeded. Lao's sigh of relief was only rivalled by Jin's. "But he may not go around on his own and is to be accompanied at all times, he is not permitted to any sensitive areas or information, and if there is even so much as a hint this isn't working we're shipping him back off to the Netherrealm, do you understand?"

"Yes Ma'am," Jin said, laughing under his breath.

Sonya didn't say any more, just turned tail and left.

Cassie sheepishly stated "I'll go see if I can get something set up."

After that, everyone aside from Johnny filed out of the room. Jacqui still had a scowl on her face, although it was more than likely about Jin's comments than Lao staying. I'll convince him to apologise to her later. Takeda merely nodded at them, and Kenshi gave a small salute before he left. The Actor turned to the two of them with his hands on his hips and a smirk on his face.

"Well, I really hope you two appreciate that, because I am definitely sleeping on the couch for the next decade."

"We do, thank you Johnny." Kung Lao saw the chance to finally sate his curiosity on that issue that had bugged him so. "So, out of curiosity, how exactly did Cassie happen?"

"Well, you see, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much-"

"Forget I asked," Lao groaned as Johnny laughed at Lao's sudden embarrassment. He should have known Johnny Cage would never give him a straight or serious answer. "Good to know you havn't changed a bit."

Johnny stopped laughing, looking a little more serious as he told Lao, "it's good to have you back man."

"Good to be back," Lao genuinely returned.

Johnny finally went to leave, as Lao turned back to his nephew. He couldn't help but feel so proud of Jin, despite everything his nephew had been through, he'd turned out to be a remarkable young man.

"Thank you, Jin," he whispered, as he pulled the younger man into an embrace. "You have done more for me than I could have ever asked. I am so proud of you."

"Aw, don't start, I don't want to cry today," Jin whined, but it was halfhearted, and the hug was quickly returned.

He knew eventually he'd have to face Raiden, and that would be the true test of if Jin's efforts had been successful. For now, he could attempt to regain his old allies trust again. One small step at a time.

#mortal kombat #kung lao #kung jin #🩷mortal kombat oneshots

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felassan · 3 years ago

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Zero To Play podcast episode: John Epler, Narrative Director at BioWare

In the most recent episode of Zero To Play podcast the guest was John Epler, Narrative Director on DA4. He talked about narrative games, how they fit inside an industry leaning towards games as a service, his experience being at BioWare for almost 14 years, and advice that he has for aspiring devs who want to create memorable, impactful and transformative moments in games.

The episode summary read as follows:

In this episode John brings his 13+ year experience being at BioWare and working on titles like Mass Effect & Dragon Age: Inquisition to explain how he believes storytelling will evolve and develop through the medium of games.

He shares some of his favorite moments and why he thinks games are the most powerful and interesting medium to be exploring in this generation.

It’s a good and interesting interview, so worth checking out if you can! You can listen to it here or on Spotify.

This post contains some notes on what was talked about in the episode, in case a text format is better for anyone (for example folks that can’t listen to it due to accessibility reasons). It’s under a cut due to length.

A bit of paraphrasing.

The average dev stays with a game company/studio for about 5 years. John joined BioWare right after the EA acquisition happened.

[on going into Trespasser] “Myself and the Lead Writer Patrick Weekes both knew that we needed to wrap up at least this part of the Inquisitor’s story, and set up where we want to go next with the franchise, with the IP. We learned a lot of lessons from DAI itself. DAI was a game with a lot of exploration and open-world content, and while we stand by that (I still think it was the right call for the game), one of the pieces of feedback we got from the fans was that they really wanted some more directed storytelling. Jaws of Hakkon was more of a continuation of open-world, more free-from exploration and free-form design. Trespasser was our opportunity to tell a story in a much more linear and focused way. [this way of telling stories] really does help to be able to create that sense of pacing and emotional escalation. It’s a lot harder to do that when you’re mixing up storybeats with big, wide open-worlds. Trespasser was a project where everyone was kind of in sync, we were all building [towards] the same thing.”

“There were [story]beats [in Trespasser] that I don't think we would have been able to get away with in basegame DAI, one of those being the - quite frankly - incredibly lengthy conversation you have with Solas at the end. Because by this point we knew that if someone is playing this DLC then they are in it - they’ve been in it for the last two DLCs, they’ve played through the entire game, they want something incredibly story-focused. And we were able to really dive deep into that, some of the deep lore, some of the narrative. This was one of the only conversations that I’d worked on which, due to limitations of the engine, we actually had to break into two different conversation styles because it was so massive. We also got opportunities to do some fun callbacks. One of my favorite ones was one Patrick suggested which was, ‘What if I [didn’t like Solas much and] spent the entire basegame telling Solas I didn't want to hear anything he had to say?’ So we had the option that if you never chose ‘Investigate’ or a dialogue option that implied that you wanted to hear him blather on, there was one dialogue option that you could pick which was basically ‘Solas, when have I ever wanted to hear any of the shit you have to say?’ And it just kind of wrapped up the conversation super quickly, and Solas looked exasperated. It was fun because it’s not the kind of thing you can necessarily do in the main game, but in a DLC which is entirely for those core fans, you have a lot more options as to what you can do.”

John has an understanding of games as an interactive medium.

“Choice of combat, choice of mechanics, all of that does have an impact on the storytelling and on the narrative that you’re trying to put through. A lot of storytelling in games is trying to make sure that the - there’s a phrase, ludonarrative dissonance - [for example, say] I’m making a game where I’m trying to make the player feel powerful. How do you [do that?] [...] In games, this is kind of the challenge. Interactivity is so key to it. [...] It’s a lot harder [compared to characters in film] to put the player in a situation that they are going to lose, because as soon as you take away that autonomy, you’re taking away some of that interactivity. [...] If as a player I'm making you feel strong and powerful, and then I pull you into a cutscene and suddenly you’re losing the fight, you’re losing what’s going. That is a much different sensation, that is something movies can get away with that games can’t.”

“What are [players/our audience] actually meaning when they say that they ‘want choice’? I think that in a lot of cases we conflate that with ‘Oh, they want to make a big decision that changes the world’. But in a lot of cases what players want is the game to react to what they’re doing and the choices that they’re making in a way that feels organic and natural. I think this is something CD Projekt Red and the Telltale games did really well - of making it clear when the game is actually going to pay attention to what you said or did, so that when you see it later you’re like ‘Oh right yeah, I made that choice, the game said it was going to remember it, and it remembered, this is cool’.

And it doesn't always mean completely changing the course of events. The Telltale writers, as they got on through the games, they realized that the better way to address choice - and something we’ve done too - is, if we make the game have three endings, four or five - like DAO had an absolute massive amount of ways that it could turn out. How do you pay that off if you want to do a sequel? There's basically two choices. One is that you make an incredibly short game because you have to account for these very different branches, OR you collapse them and say ‘Sorry, this is what we’re going with’. And I don't think either of those are necessarily satisfying. For me it’s about making the players feel like their time and the choices they made have been respected. More than anything else that's the key, it comes down to understanding your fanbase, what it is they’re looking for, what it is they’re asking for, because there is that desire for choice, reactivity, consequences. And it’s something that BioWare, that we’re especially sensitive to because it’s always been a big pillar of the games we make. It’s just about understanding what this actually means from a practical standpoint and how you execute on that in a way that makes your fans feel satisfied, while still not writing yourself an impossible check to cash, because, you know, you can react to anything, but if you have a game that ends in three separate ways, you have to go with one of those two options and neither of them is going to be intensely satisfying to the player.”

“A phrase I’ve been using is, what I'm describing as - the half life of quantum. ‘Quantum’ is what we say when it could be like, one of six different things. The half life of this is how long before you actually resolve that down to a single point. Like, provide the player with that reactivity, but collapse those into a way that you can proceed forward. This is 100% a lesson learned from Dragon Age, for all the games. ‘Ok, what do we do with this? Holy shit, that is huge, how are we actually going to pay that off?’ Reactivity, but without putting yourself in an impossible-to-win situation [from a story/writing standpoint].”

“More than anything else, the advice I would give [to aspiring devs] is, come up with some fundamental pillars of your story and of your design. There's a misunderstanding that we plan out the exact story for years in advance. We know what we want to get to, we kinda know how we’re going to get there, and a lot of it is just making sure that you have those pillars and those razors. So as you go through development and find, ‘Oh this piece is not working, this piece is clunking’, you’ll always have principles that you can go back to. What is important about this story? Does the piece that isn't working satisfy any of those things? If no, then we have to change it or get rid of it.”

[more advice] “Don’t be afraid to fail (I say fail here as a good thing). Don't be afraid to put something out there and have it absolutely torn to shreds. Feedback is your best friend, having people that you trust to provide that feedback. If I were building a big epic narrative, a big epic franchise, [I’d advise that you] start with your principles and the core of what you want to do, and then just start putting out ideas. ‘Here’s my idea for this story’. It’s easier for me, I'm inheriting a lot of work that's already been done, a lot of ground that's already laid - I have a Lead Writer that has been doing this longer than I have, PW is fantastic. But for myself, it’s just been a lot of like, okay, taking this stuff that's already been built, and making sure that I know what we want to do with whatever the next project is. It sounds overly reductive and overly simplistic, but it really is about just having a really strong sense of what is important to your franchise, what’s important to your brand. If you’re coming up with a new IP, it’s a little trickier. You need to spend some time thinking: what’s the tone, what’s the setting, what kind of story do we want to tell.”

[more advice] Don’t be afraid to heavily reference existing media [as actual razors, internally]. But that's not something you ever want to have go out to the public, because people go like ‘Oh, you’re just being derivative’. It’s like no, we’re just leaning on cultural touchstones that people know, so that when you’re communicating with people outside your discipline, or with people above you like executives, they can at least get a sense like, ‘Oh I kinda get what you’re doing, okay that makes sense’, versus ‘Let me first of all explain the entire history of the world’. My experience with executives is that they don't have time for that and justifiably so. But if I tell them we’re doing X but with Y and Z it’s like, ‘Ok cool, we get that’. [...] It’s a tiered approach. You have levels of detail that you provide to different people based on what they need to know. You yourself may need to know the history of these characters and how they relate to each other and the thousands of years of history for that, but the person building combat probably doesn't need all that detail and just needs to know ‘What am I working with, how do these characters fight.”

“A razor is a statement that you use to slice away what doesn't fit. The narrative razor for Trespasser was, I can’t remember exactly, we were basically trying to go for the Avengers meets Indiana Jones, Winter Soldier. Avengers meets Winter Soldier. [a razor is] a statement that you take all the content [by], ‘Okay, does this actually fit this statement? No? Okay, get rid of it’. It’s about focusing your game. Cutting away the ideas that don't really fit is how you avoid scope-loading and people crunching, and how you keep your project focused.

Trespasser was an intensely-focused DLC, in that it focused on basically two main core things, Solas and the fate of the Inquisition. Everything kind of wrapped into those two razors. As we were going through content, we had stuff like - I said this at a GDC presentation in 2016 - the Qunari are farming lyrium to make Qunari templars. And then we looked at it like, how does that apply to either razor? It doesn't, it doesn't fit either one of them. So we simplified it to, ‘Okay, what actually makes this work in the context of what we’re building?’. [a razor is] a statement that you use to slice off what doesn't fit into the game that you’re building. It can be painful, but having strong razors means that it never comes across as a personal thing.”

Narrative does not mean story.

Two of his least favorite mechanics in games [not including Stalker and DayZ] are weight limits and weapon degradation.

On games as a service:

Interviewer/host: “Talking about games as a service, it’s definitely something that is talked about a lot in gaming in terms of the most successful games. With Dragon Age, putting DLCs out is kind of maybe that same influence, but games that are launched and then iterated on and updated and pushed with content every month, like Fortnite, Riot Games, League of Legends, Valorant etc, that's kind of I feel where the trend of games are trying to go and make the most of those interactions between other people, to make replayability possible and easier. How do you see narrative, do you see it being forgotten with this increase of games as a service? [...] Do you see that as a positive part of narrative in games or do you think there’s still work to be done in that space?”

John: “[...] The place we start to see some confusion, a lot of people think it’s one or the other, but to me, it’s another way, another option for telling stories that by their nature have to be different. I think that's where you need to be, again, very cognizant of what you’re building and of the genre you’re working in, because a story that works for a more traditional box product is not necessarily the kind of story that would work for a games as a service product. [...] Games as a service, understanding what the cadence is that you’re planning to deliver to and what kinds of stories best fit that cadence - some games are better at it than others.

One game that did a pretty decent job of it is Destiny 2, through patches. Final Fantasy 14 is another example, they do a lot of their storytelling between the big expansion releases as part of their free patches. They always know that they have - I think, five big patches? - between each expansion, and they’ve structured their stories to fit into that very specific five-act structure. If they tried to do it weekly or bi-weekly it would be a very different experience. I think there’s always room for narrative. It’s about knowing that there are different lessons to learn and not being afraid to learn those lessons, as opposed to trying to fit the traditional box product square-peg narrative into a live service round hole. And that’s why you need to have a strong vision and why you need to have somebody at the Director level who understands and plays the kinds of games that you’re building, so they kind of understand what works and what doesn't - ‘This type of story worked really well for this game, and I'm not saying you should copy it, but you should at least be willing to learn those lessons and not reinvent the wheel every time.’

We’ve been making games for a long time now, there’s lots of lessons to learn, we should be trying to learn from them and not trying to like, change everything every single time.”

[on length of narrative] “In a lot of cases you know how long your game should be and the hardest part is sticking to that. [...] There is always a worry that fans are going to see a number and be like ‘That’s not big enough or that’s not long enough.’ I do think that there is sometimes a lack of confidence in what you're building, and a desire to make it shorter or longer, but I think at the core, the people building [a] game know how long it’s going to take to tell this story that they want to tell. I say this specifically for narrative, but even stuff like progression, you know how long you want it to take. For myself, I will always take a short but well-executed game over a long game that feels that it has a lot of [useless/boring] padding. It’s about identifying the kind of game you’re building. Open-world games are always going to be bigger and longer than more linear games. Being confident in that number and recognizing when you’re adding time and space for no other purpose than just to make that number on the back of the box longer [is important]. Fans don’t love that, they can see right through that.”

“It was nice to see the amount of hard work that went into DAI rewarded by the press [with the Game of the Year award]. There are definitely parts of it that didn't land that we wish we could have done differently, but it was a project that felt like we were all pulling in the same direction and when we started getting that positive feedback, it was definitely a sense of relief. Especially because a lot of us had been on DA2, and while we were proud of that project, it obviously didn't get the reception that we wanted at that time.

[when they were watching DAI’s release and tracking its reception] We’re keeping a running tally, like ‘Okay, this is really looking like we did something special here’. I’m proud of every project that I’ve worked on but DAI is definitely one that I’m especially proud of.”

“Part of the advantage to being at a company for as long as I have, I've worked with a lot of the other people [responsible for things in other departments like art, writing, audio etc], so while there is that anxiety like ‘I reeeally hope that this works out’, I know it’s going to, because I know that everyone who is doing these roles, like our Animation Director, our Audio Director, Levels, all those other people on the project know what they’re doing and they know their shit better than I could ever hope to. So I’m just kind of standing here like ‘Hey y’all this is what we need’, and it’s coming in. And when it does come in, when you see the pieces together - I think for myself, on DAI, the moment that I first finally started feeling like it was really all coming together was, one of our music designers, going into one of the moments at the end of Redcliffe, doing the music/audio pass, and me finally seeing this scene that I’d been staring at and banging my head against for months - turn into something that actually conveyed emotion, that actually was something that I was excited for our fans to get to see and get to experience. That’s always a special feeling.”

Cinematics is one of the last things to come in, which means that audio is always waiting for them to come in: “They always did an amazing job with very little time, I will never not praise our audio and music designers.”

“Patrick Weekes is the Lead Writer, which means ultimately PW is responsible for the writing side of the game. As Narrative Director, I’m there to offer, to basically take the vision of the project and interpret the part that focuses on narrative and then provide that to my team - because I work with writing, cinematics, level designers and everyone - I’m there to be like ‘Hey this is the narrative we want to achieve’, which sometimes involves getting involved in the story side of things. But a lot of that is PW’s job as Lead Writer, they’ve been doing it for a long time, they’ve been in the industry longer than I have. It’s a really good working relationship. We worked together when I was in cinematics and they were in writing, we worked together on the Iron Bull, then we were both leads on Trespasser, so we have a trust.

I think what’s been really helpful is that they know that if I tell them something’s not working, it’s not coming from ‘I wanna do it my way, you better just do it my way because I’m the boss’, it’s coming from ‘This is something I think we need to do for the project’. And vice versa, if they push back on me about something, I know it’s not coming from ‘Screw you I'm the Lead Writer, I make the decisions’, they’re saying it because this is an actual concern. I do writing, I’m a writer on the project too but I will fully admit PW is a way better writer than I am, so I'm comfortable leaning on them for that stuff, and then I’m the person who can provide that ‘Okay, we know that gameplay is providing this, we know levels is providing this, let’s shift the priorities'.

It’s also about knowing, being able to take that back from any one discipline and say ‘Okay, what is the right decision for the project as a whole’, and sometimes that means telling PW something that they may not think is their favorite thing to do, but they will listen because they trust me and I trust them. I don't know how it works at other studios, there are places where Narrative Director is also the Lead Writer, or where there is Narrative Director and Lead Writer is the highest authority on narrative that exists, but it’s worked for us again because we have that lengthy experience. It would be interesting to see how it would work if we didn’t know each other for a while before this. It’s largely a relationship of trusting each other to know our areas of expertise and also just understanding what’s important to the narrative vision of the project.”

When they did Tevinter Nights it was ‘extracurricular’ work: “It was fun, I got to do some writing, I got published, which was really fun”.

[source]

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

#dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #solas #long post #longpost

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kjack89 · 4 years ago

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1B+

Man, I don’t even know. Established E/R, modern AU. CW for COVID and vaccine discussions.

“It’s redlining!”

Enjolras’s raised voice was the first thing anyone heard as soon as they got on the weekly Zoom call, and Combeferre winced, reaching to turn down the volume on his laptop. The chat was already blowing up with everyone asking everyone else – besides Enjolras and Grantaire, for obvious reasons – what was the source of the argument this week.

Combeferre sent various versions of ‘I have no idea’ to everyone as Enjolras and Grantaire glared at each other through their respective computer screens. “I understand that,” Grantaire started, sounding angrier than usual, since he had a tendency to sound like he was enjoying his weekly arguments with Enjolras, “but I don’t think—”

“Look at the zip code map for the city,” Enjolras interrupted, also unusually angry, as Combeferre suspected (but would never, ever vocalize) that he also enjoyed his verbal spars with Grantaire. “It matches up almost exactly with historical redlining!”

“And I’m not denying that,” Grantaire snapped. “But that doesn’t mean—”

Marius had the misfortune of logging on right then, and had the even greater misfortune of not knowing immediately that he stepped right into the middle of a fight as he cheerfully said, “How’s everyone’s day going?” He broke off as he apparently spotted the desperate hand gestures that Courfeyrac was making. “Oh, um, sorry. Did I interrupt?”

“No,” Grantaire said stiffly. “We’re done here.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes but didn’t appear to want to argue further, and Combeferre waited for a beat before unmuting himself. “Do either of you want to catch us up to speed?” he asked carefully.

Grantaire shook his head as he stood, disappearing from his camera’s view, and Enjolras scowled. “We’re talking about the vaccine,” he said, a little sourly, hesitating before adding, “Grantaire got vaccinated today.”

Courfeyrac whooped. “R, you got your Fauci ouchie?” he asked, delighted.

“Which did you get?” Joly asked, more curious than elated. “Moderna? Pfizer? Johnson & Johnson?”

Bossuet nudged him. “Does it matter?” he asked, sounding amused.

“No, of course not, and I’ll take whatever they want to stick in me—”

“Yeah you will,” Courfeyrac snickered.

“—but I’m keeping track of anecdotal data about reactions to the various vaccines,” Joly continued, giving Courfeyrac the finger.

“It was the Pfizer vaccine, but I think you’re all missing the broader point,” Enjolras said stiffly.

Grantaire reappeared on screen, a drink in hand. “Pretty sure the only one missing the point is you,” he said. “And Joly, before you ask, thus far the only negative reaction I’ve had is from Enjolras.”

Joly frowned. “That’s not what—”

“Oh, I’m sorry that I’m less than ecstatic that you, a white man who lives in one of the most affluent zip codes in our city, was able to get vaccinated, while vaccine rates in low income and majority minority zips remain among the lowest in the nation,” Enjolras snapped, the impetus of his argument with Grantaire finally becoming clear for everyone else on the Zoom call. “Forgive me for not celebrating that Black and brown folks remain disproportionately at risk while you get to go back to wasting your life drinking in bars until all hours of the night.”

Grantaire rolled his eyes so hard that Combeferre was half-afraid he’d pulled a muscle. “Right, because I forgot, in addition to apparently being an alcoholic, I’m also so incredibly selfish that I would put low income workers at risk just so that I can sit by myself indoors at a bar during a pandemic.”

“Hey, not by yourself,” Bahorel interjected with the sort of threatening cheerfulness he used when he was aggressively trying to change the topic. “Don’t forget, Feuilly got poked a few weeks ago, so he could join you.”

Feuilly looked very much like he wanted to be left out of the conversation entirely. “Ah, yes, the perks of being essential to keeping capitalism running,” he muttered.

But Bahorel’s attempt at humor had seemingly only made Enjolras angrier. “Yes, Feuilly got his vaccine because he’s essential,” he said icily. “Not to mention because he’s been risking his life for over a year now while the rest of us got to stay home.”

“Not to pull a Taylor Swift but I would really like to be excluded from this narrative,” Feuilly said.

Enjolras and Grantaire both ignored him. “I’m sorry that I can’t be as ideal as Feuilly,” Grantaire all but spat, “but me taking the vaccine because I’m eligible and was able to has exactly zero impact on the failures of equitable rollout.”

“Right, one less vaccine going to someone who actually needs it has no impact on anything,” Enjolras shot back. “Of course, I don’t know why I’m surprised. It’s not like you’ve ever been willing to sacrifice anything for someone else.”

There was a sudden intake of breath from the collective group at that, and even Enjolras looked a little shamefaced. Grantaire’s expression was stony. “You really want to talk about sacrifice?” he asked quietly. “After everything this past year?”

Enjolras winced. “I didn’t mean—”

“Because while you were working at home this past year, some of us lost our jobs.” Grantaire’s voice was sharp. “And some of us have since stepped up to more or less become the primary caretaker for someone who’s too fucking stubborn to get the damn vaccine for himself, even though he’s also eligible!” Enjolras looked like he wanted to refute at least part of that, but Grantaire didn’t give him a chance. “But you know what? I’m done with that now. You can get your own damn groceries, even though you don’t have a car and refuse to use instacart. Or you can have takeout delivered without using third party delivery apps. Hell, you can figure out how to get anything delivered to you without using Amazon! I’m sure you and your moral superiority and your goddamned heart defect will have a gay ol’ time waiting for some arbitrary measure of equity.”

With that, he left the Zoom, leaving absolute silence in his wake. Enjolras looked too stunned to talk, so Combeferre took over. “Alright, everyone,” he said, “let’s take a quick break. I’ll send a text when we’re ready to get back online.” Everyone else quickly left, most likely relieved to not have to sit there in the awkward silence. Combeferre cleared his throat. “Enjolras?” he asked.

Enjolras blinked. “What?”

“Are you ok?”

“Fine.”

Combeferre frowned. “I mean, with what Grantaire said…”

Enjolras suddenly seemed very engaged with scrolling through his phone and not making eye contact with Combeferre. “You know Grantaire as well as I do,” he said dismissively. “He’s a drama queen.”

“Sure, and known to exaggerate. But not generally to outright lie.” Enjolras made a face but didn’t argue and Combeferre sighed. “Look, you’re not obligated to share any personal medical information—”

“Tell that to Grantaire,” Enjolras muttered.

“—but if there is something you want to tell us about…”

He trailed off and Enjolras sighed. “It’s really nothing,” he said grudgingly. “I have a small, congenital heart defect. “

Combeferre’s eyes narrowed. “How small?”

“Just, a tiny little hole. In the wall of my heart.”

“Atrial septal defect?” Combeferre asked sharply.

Enjolras snorted a laugh. “You’re a freak, you know that, right?” he asked good-naturedly. “Yes, an atrial septal defect. So I’m at slightly higher risk for COVID complications than the average adult.” He made a face. “And because Grantaire knows about it, he’s been absolutely insufferable.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Dare I ask how it is that Grantaire knows about this when you and I have been friends for years and this is the first I’m hearing of it?”

Enjolras squirmed uncomfortably. “Well, I sort of told him about it. But in my defense, I wasn’t exactly anticipating a pandemic at the time.”

“What were you anticipating?

Enjolras looked even more uncomfortable. “Um, more sex?”

Combeferre blinked. “I’m honestly afraid to ask.”

Enjolras rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s not even a good story,” he mumbled. “It was back when we first got together…”

----------

Enjolras and Grantaire lay in silence next to each other, both of their chests still heaving. Grantaire was the first to break the silence, glancing over at him. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh,” Grantaire said skeptically, propping himself up on his elbow. “I can always tell when you’re thinking. You get that wrinkle between your eyebrows.”

Enjolras scowled, reaching up to rub his forehead. “Playing to my vanity?” he asked.

Grantaire grinned, brushing Enjolras’s hand aside and leaning in to kiss Enjolras’s forehead. “I’ll take whatever advantage I can get,” he said. “So what are you thinking about? Other than the best orgasm of your life, courtesy of me?”

“In fairness, the bar for that was pretty low,” Enjolras said, a smile twitching at the corners of his mouth before it faded. “Just...shouldn’t we talk about this? About what we’re doing here?”

Making a face, Grantaire flopped over onto his stomach, burying his face in the pillow. “Normally I require at least a half hour after sex before we do the ‘what are we’ conversation,” he said, his voice muffled before he turned his head to look over at Enjolras. “It’s like how you’re not supposed to swim for a half hour after you eat.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s an old wives tale.”

Grantaire shifted in what might have been an attempt at a shrug. “Maybe, but I’m not willing to take that risk.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes and sat up. “Fine, then what do you want to talk about?”

“Who says we need to talk about anything?”

“Isn’t that normally what you do after having sex with someone?” Enjolras asked.

Grantaire smirked. “I mean, I’m hardly an expert but normally around this time I’m fishing around for my boxers so I can do the walk of shame home.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “Keep it up and you will be.”

Grantaire laughed. “Look, this isn’t exactly normal for either of us. I mean, at least I don’t have to worry about forgetting your name, so that’s a step up.”

“You are, as always, classy.”

Enjolras made as if to stand up but Grantaire reached out and caught his hand, keeping him in place. “Well, I mean, c’mon, we’ve known each other for years. This isn’t like a regular hookup. I don’t have to pretend to care about learning what you do for a living or what familial issues you brought with you into adulthood, mainly because I already know.”

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “You think you know everything about me?”

“I know I know everything about you,” Grantaire said, a little smugly. “I mean, besides your social security number and family medical history, but we can save those for the second date.”

“I don’t know, I think my congenital heart defect makes for fascinating post-coital conversation,” Enjolras said with a grin. But Grantaire just stared at him, eyes wide, and his smile disappeared. “I was kidding.”

“So you don’t have a heart defect?”

Grantaire’s voice was even but Enjolras winced. “Well, I didn’t say that.”

“What’s wrong with your heart?” Grantaire asked quietly.

“A great many things, as I’m sure any of my few exes could attest,” Enjolras joked, but when Grantaire’s expression didn’t change, he sighed and elaborated, “I was born with a small hole in the wall of my heart. It’s called an atrial septal defect. Quite possibly caused by the cocaine habit my mother likes to pretend she didn’t have in the 80s.”

Grantaire didn’t laugh. “Is it serious?”

“No. Not really.” Enjolras shrugged. “I’m at higher risk for some heart and lung complications, but mostly it’s just something for my cardiologist to keep an eye on.”

For one long moment, Grantaire was silent, as if he was struggling with something to say. Then he managed a small smile of his own. “Well, at least it’s proof that you have a heart,” he said lightly.

Enjolras’s eyes narrowed. “An Iron Man reference? Really?”

“Of course, I forgot that you hate the MCU.”

Enjolras made a face. “That’s a bit of a stretch. But Tony Stark is a war criminal so I’m not exactly thrilled with the comparison.”

Grantaire laughed. “Fair enough,” he said.

“Besides,” Enjolras said, his smirk returning as he moved closer to Grantaire, “wasn’t this enough proof that I have a heart?”

“Mm,” Grantaire said, his eyes half-closed as Enjolras traced his fingers down his back, “I’d say it’s more proof that you like sex. Which was also in doubt, for what it’s worth.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Then what about this?” he asked, closing the space between them and kissing Grantaire, a slow, heady kiss that had Grantaire tugging him down onto the bed with him.

When they broke apart, it wasn’t to go far, their noses brushing against each other as they lay tangled up in each other. “That’s closer at least,” Grantaire murmured, his expression soft. “But I’ll keep the heart defect in mind, just in case you give me reason to doubt that you have a heart in the future.”

“I don’t plan to,” Enjolras told him.

Grantaire half-smiled. “I’m not sure this is the kind of thing that ever really is planned.”

“I know. But I want you to know that I’m…” Enjolras trailed off, looking for the right words. “I’m not going into this with the expectation that it’s a one and done kind of thing.”

Grantaire looked taken aback for a moment before his expression evened out. “Why, Monsieur, what sweet words for one such as me,” he said with a fake accent, fluttering his eyelashes at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes.

“Be serious,” he scoffed, adding warningly, “And don’t even say it.”

“Say what?” Grantaire asked innocently, not able to stop his grin.

“You know what.”

Grantaire’s grin widened. “Even if it’s true?”

Enjolras just gave him a look. “You’re less wild than you think.”

Grantaire laughed and stretched. “Yeah, well, I blame my 30s for that.” He waggled his eyebrows at Enjolras. “Besides, if we want to talk about wild, I want to hear more about your mother’s suspected cocaine habit.”

Enjolras shook his head, his eyes darkening as he looked at Grantaire. “How about we do something that doesn’t require any talking?”

“Oh, do you have a ball gag hidden somewhere that I don’t know about?”

“Grantaire,” Enjolras sighed exasperatedly.

Grantaire grinned, running his hands down Enjolras’s sides. “I’m just saying, you’re a pretty mouthy lay.”

Enjolras pressed a hand against his chest “As opposed to you, who is known for his ability to be silent.”

“Exactly.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Grantaire leaned in to kiss him but paused, his lips barely brushing Enjolras’s. “I don’t know,” he murmured. “Is your heart healthy enough for sex?”

“It’s healthier than you’ll be if you don’t kiss me,” Enjolras said warningly.

“God, you’re bossy,” Grantaire sighed, but he was grinning again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate before kissing Enjolras once more.

----------

“And then about three weeks later, the world went to hell and all of a sudden, what I had told Grantaire mostly as a joke was somewhat more relevant,” Enjolras finished.

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Because COVID could cause problems?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Possibly.”

“But enough to put you in the 1B+ priority group.”

Combeferre didn’t pitch it as a question and Enjolras scowled. “Theoretically, yes, but these phases are bullshit, and besides, I’m not getting vaccinated until—”

“Enjolras,” Combeferre interrupted, exasperated and wishing for not the first time that he could reach through the computer screen to knock some sense into his best friend. “Get the damn shot.”

Enjolras looked taken aback. “What?”

“The rollout is never going to be perfect, but this is the dumbest hill that I’ve ever seen you choose to die on.” Combeferre gave him a look. “And that’s saying something because I remember the time you took a stand in favor of school uniforms in junior high.”

“They can be an equalizer for students who can’t afford expensive clothes,” Enjolras muttered.

“Enjolras.”

“I’m just saying,” Enjolras said stubbornly. “Besides, I don’t think this is a dumb hill to die on, considering the affluent folks who are exploiting every trick in the book to cut in line!”

Combeferre shook his head. “But you’re not cutting in line. You’re eligible.”

“Sure, but I also have excellent health insurance, and can take time off work if I get sick, so even if I were to catch it—”

Combeferre gave him a look. “And if you don’t eat your vegetables, there are poor, starving children in Africa…”

Enjolras matched his look with one of his own. “I’m more concerned about the poor starving children in our own neighborhood,” he snapped.

But Combeferre was undeterred. “And you refusing to get vaccinated helps them how, exactly?” Enjolras said nothing, just crossing his arms in front of his chest, and Combeferre managed a small, grim smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“It’s a matter of principle,” Enjolras said, just a little petulantly.

“So is getting vaccinated so that you can keep doing the important work that you do.” Combeferre sighed. “Look, I can’t make you get vaccinated any more than Grantaire can. But you being mad at Grantaire just because you feel guilty—”

“That’s not—” Combeferre raised both eyebrows and Enjolras winced. “I guess that is sort of what happened.”

Combeferre tactfully chose not to pile on to that. “Getting the vaccine keeps people safe,” he said instead. “And while Grantaire may claim not to care about anything, we both know he would do anything to keep you safe.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that he got the vaccine to keep you safe. And because he was eligible to.” Combeferre paused before adding, “And you owe him an apology.”

“And to schedule a vaccine appointment for myself?” Enjolras asked.

Combeferre shrugged. “Again, that’s your decision. But yes.”

Enjolras shook his head slowly, but he no longer looked angry. Instead, something contemplative stole across his expression. “Did you ever imagine, a year ago, that we’d be talking about this?”

“About you and Grantaire getting into some asinine fight and me talking you down from being a stubborn asshole?”

“Ok, well, when you put it like that…” Combeferre laughed and Enjolras managed a smile as well. “Thank you.”

Combeferre gave him a look. “The best way to thank me is to never make me play referee again.”

“Yes, but that’s just unrealistic, so…”

Combeferre laughed again and shook his head. “Talk to Grantaire,” he ordered. “In the meantime, I’ll get the meeting started again. You two can join us after you’ve talked.”

Enjolras sighed. “Yes sir,” he muttered sourly. “But there’s just one thing I need to do first.”

“Use an exploitative third party delivery app to send a bottle of whiskey to Grantaire as an apology?” Combeferre guessed.

Enjolras made a face. “Ok, two things.”

Combeferre grinned. “You’re making your vaccine appointment, aren’t you.”

Enjolras shrugged. “What can I say, you made some good points.”

“So did Grantaire,” Combeferre said pointedly. “And I suspect he’d much rather hear you say that than I.”

Enjolras waved a dismissive hand. “Go,” he ordered. “We’ll be back on the zoom shortly.”

Combeferre hesitated. “Just one more thing.”

“Now what?” Enjolras asked, exasperated.

“Make sure to tell Grantaire that you understand.”

Enjolras’s brow furrowed. “Understand what?”

“That he got the vaccine because he loves you.” He leveled a look at Enjolras. “Enough for him to forgive you for accusing him of cutting the line just so he can drink at a bar.”

Enjolras winced. “Not my finest moment,” he admitted.

“Not so much,” Combeferre agreed.

“Think he’ll forgive me?”

Combeferre didn’t even have to pretend to think about it. “I know he will.”

#enjolras #grantaire #enjolras x grantaire #exr #enjoltaire #combeferre #all the amis #too lazy to tag them all #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #established relationship #covid cw #vaccine cw #just struggling with the year anniversary like one does

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aenxiome · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 1: Our Hero the Zero

"You have to tell them," Oh not this again, "I'm sure they will understand" swallowing a sigh, I look up from my food to my best friends and brace for impact, "It's not like you're actually dead."

"If I went up to them and said that I have ghost powers, what do you think they will do? You've met my parents; they shoot first and ask questions later." Sam didn't look impressed, "Once they realize that it's you, they won't. They love you, Danny; your parents wouldn't hurt you." I look over to Tucker, looking for support, but he was too engrossed with his new PDA, 'Simone,' to catch my look.

"Just forget it," I tell them as we leave the cafeteria, "If it's that important to you guys, I'll think about it." Under my breath, I couldn't help muttering to myself, 'maybe in a thousand years.'

From there, we split ways, with each of us having a different elective. Being our resident techno-geek, Tucker has computer programing for this block, while Sam takes a botany course. As I go down the hall, I can't help but wonder why they don't understand the issue.

My parents, the town crazies, are ghost hunters.

What do they think they will do when they find out? Hug me and tell me that everything is going to be all right? If anything, that would bring about the end of my life.

Or is it my afterlife?

Anyway, they're more likely to put me in a cage and study me than anything else. Who knows what type of experiments they would come up with. If anything, it's best to stay quiet and stay out of their way.

My thoughts leave me as I get thrown shoulder-first into the side of a locker. "Well, look what we have here, little Fentina walking all alone. Where did your friends go? Did they finally realize that you're a loser and leave you?"

"Wow, Dash, so original how long did it take you to come up with that one?" He didn't answer, not even acknowledging my question, and continued to insult me. "I'm in a bad mood Fenton. You wanna know why? One of you nerds didn't make my notes. So, I got a 'D'" He jabs the failing assignment into my face, "and I'm going to take it out on you" He pushes me back into the lockers. He gives me a couple of sucker punches to the stomach when the warning bell rings. He looks to the clock and then back at me. "I'll get you later, Fenton," He yells at me while he sprints down the hallway to his next class.

I pull myself away from the lockers and head to my next class. I make it down to the next hall when the final bell rings. I continue on my way to the science hall while dodging the teachers handing out detention slips for running late. When I got to class, the teacher Ms. Tally was waiting for me at the door. "Your late again, Daniel," looking to her watch then back at me, "three minutes late, to be precise."

The thing about Ms. Tally is that you can never figure out if she is angry or not. She has a neutral deposition that makes determining her emotions impossible. There is no way to tell what she is going to do. For the moment, my fate is in her hands. She stares at me for a second, "Get to your seat Mr. Fenton" she says as she walks away, dismissing me. That was close. I was sure that I was going to get detention.

"Mr. Fenton," or second thought maybe I will, "Come back after school we need to talk."

Great, just great there goes my plans with Sam and Tucker.

"Pass up your star charts, and let us continue where we left off yesterday." Ms. Tally called out to everyone. Ms. Tally teaches my favorite subject, Astronomy. This is one of the few classes I have with none of the A-List crowd and the only class where I'm the only one from my year.

It is perfect.

It's a fresh start.

While in other classes, I'm a 'C' average student, in this one, I get to be myself and show what I know. I hope that by the end of the year, it will still be like that. This is my only chance to show that I'm not an idiot. Okay, well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. I do pretty well in math and other sciences in general, but those classes usually come with help from my friends and others.

No one can say that I'm cheating or getting my results unfairly. In this class, everything that I know is all me.

Once the class has finished passing up the star charts, Ms. Tally talks about sunspots. It's fascinating, really. But all too soon, the hour ends, and the stress of school comes back full force when trying to stay out of Dash or the football team's sight and finish up the day. Finally, I make it to class right before the warning bell and the hour of torture begins.

After Astronomy, anything after feels like it is going on forever. Soon enough, I start to daydream, and the real world falls into the background as I think about exploring the stars. Every once in a while, I would come back down to earth and pay attention to something, but for the most part, my head was up in the clouds.

Eventually, the last bell of the day rings, signaling the end of the day. I gather my things and meet up with Sam and Tucker by my locker. "Danny, you ready?" Well, no time like the present, "Yeah, about that," I say apprehensive when Tucker talks over me in an accusing monotone voice, "you have detention again, don't you?" I couldn't help the hand going to my neck as I said meekly, "Sorry." Sam rolls her eyes, "Can't you just stay out of trouble for once?"

"Well, it's not like I'm trying to get in trouble," I tell her haughty "Yeah, Yeah, we know," They say together. "So, see you tomorrow then?" I ask "tomorrow," she said, agreeing. "Bye, Danny," they call as they walk out of the building.

I dredge down the halls back to the Astronomy classroom, wanting to get this conversation over with. But, once I got there, I knocked on the door, and Ms. Tally walks out with a stack of papers. "Follow me, Mr. Fenton," she orders as we go back to the same halls I had just gone through and then to the front of the building. We stopped once we got to the Office. Only about half of the staff was still there. The rest of them have already gone home for the day.

She has me sit in one of the chairs for a couple of minutes when she goes to the back of the office. When she comes back later, she beckons me forward. She has me trail behind her until we reach Mr. Lancer's office, My homeroom English teacher and Vice-principal.

She knocks twice before I hear the dreaded words, "Come in."

Mr. Lancers' office is a small but clean space and outdated. The carpet has seen better years as it has become discolored and has a bit of a smell. The back of the room is filled with filing cabinets looking ready to combust. In the center of the room is his desk with stacks of paper and an old box computer.

If His office is this bad, I have to wonder what that says about the rest of the school. "Have a seat, Daniel; we have much to discuss." I nod and sit in one of the chairs in front of the desk while Ms. Tally sits in the other. "Um, Mr. Lancer, what is it exactly that we are here to talk about?" He gives Ms. Tally a look, "You didn't tell him?" She shifts a little while Mr. Lancer lets out a loud sigh, "We are here to talk to you about your grades and attendance." This won't be good, "you have been tarty to class fifteen times in the past two weeks, and your grades in some classes completely contradict the rest. So what is going on, Daniel?"

I stare at my hands, trying to find something to say for myself, but all I could come up with was excuses. Finally, Ms. Tally startles me out of my thoughts when she suddenly asks, "What happened today? Being three minutes late to my class is abnormal for you." Mr. Lancer gives her a questioning glance, "Only by three minutes?"

"Yes, Daniel has never been more than a minute late to my class others have but never him; he is almost always punctual." Mr. Lancer silently passes her my class attendant's log. I didn't even have to read it to know what it says, fifteen minutes late here, thirty there, leaving class and never coming back, and other infractions filled that page. "Besides being late, Mr. Fenton also has a habit of falling asleep in class," he informs her.

They both look at me and ask again, "what's going on?" I didn't know what else to do, so I told them the only thing that I can the truth. I told them about the bullying, pushing me into lockers, taking my homework, the punching and jabs in the hallway, and the constant distracting conversations and lollygagging when the teachers' backs are turned.

Ms. Tally didn't say anything while Mr. Lancer looked sympathetic. Finally, after a moment of silence, Ms. Tally broke the quiet, "While that explains why you are always late to class, and we will be doing something about that don't you worry, it doesn't give any reason for the rest of the attendance issues, grades, or the sleeping in class. Is there anything else you want to let us in on?"

"It's complicated," I started before I found myself pausing. I can't tell them about the ghost fighting; that would never end well. So, I ended up telling an altered version of the truth. Sighing, I managed to say to them, "I'm just not getting enough sleep." Mr. Lancer cut me off before I was able to say anything else, "Why is that? What is keeping you up?" Giving him an annoyed look for him cutting me off and his impatiens. "Look, this is hard to talk about. No interruptions, please?"

I ask them, irritated once I get assurance from them both, I start up again.

"There is never a quiet moment at home my parents are either inventing all through the night or going in and out trying to catch ghosts." I sigh, then look at them wearily, Oh, Jazz is going to hate me for this, "being the son of a ghost hunter isn't fun; all of these ghosts that keep coming through keep bothering me. They are either trying to get to and from the Ghost portal or trying to get to Jazz and me to get back at our parents. We never get a break. Not even at school. That's why I keep disappearing all of the time. Jazz doesn't have it as bad since she is older, but as the youngest, it puts a target on me." I make eye contact with Mr. Lancer, trying to figure out if he believes me or not. By the end of my story, his face had paled, looking close to white, while Ms. Tally looks between us with disbelief etched into her face. She looks like she is trying to figure out where the end of the joke is. Once it became apparent that I am telling the truth, her jaw became slack, and she looked at me, her eyes blown wide.

I think I may have broken her.

"Oh, Huckleberry Finn," I hear him mutter, "That definitely explains some things." But then, he looks at me with a tired look in his eye, "and your grades?"

"That's actually pretty easy to understand," I say with a nervous chuckle, "In all honesty, I'm just really not good at liberal art subjects. Give me Science or Math anytime, but I would rather run a mile around the school than do English or history. But, don't me wrong, I do try; I just never really get them." Ms.Tally, who had finally gotten back her composure, looked at me with a single eyebrow raised. " I don't really get it myself, but ill try to explain, um," I run my fingers through my hair as I tink up an analogy, "It's like im doing a puzzle, but some pieces are missing. No matter how hard I try, the pieces that I have left just don't fit into place." I blush a little at my own confession," Does that make any sense?"

"It does actually," he says, "It's like that for many of us. Though it is usually math that causes the most trouble." He sends me a small smile as he turns around towards the filing cabinet. "Just keep trying, and in time the pieces will come together." then pulls out a couple of forms from a drawer, " if you are having so many issues with those classes, why didn't you ask to transfer out?"

"Those are the only classes I have with my friends, and if my schedule changed, there is no guarantee I'll get lunch break with them," I tell truthfully, starting to get worried about the papers he brought out. "Now that you know, can't you just make it so that I sit away from them, the A-list? I would do better, I promise, please don't take me out of class with my friends," I beg him.

Mr. Lancer looked to be thinking it over when Ms. Tally interrupted, "Is that why you don't have trouble in my class, is there no one of that," she pauses, trying to find the right word, "clique; during your period?"

I nod, agreeing with her statement, "The class is filled with people from the older years too, and nobody in there has to agree with my classmates A-list." Ms. Tally looked satisfied with my answer and let it go while Mr. Lancer looked ready to deliver his verdict.

"We will give it a try," he started holding his hand up in a stopping motion when I started thanking him, "I said we would give it a try, but if things continue as they are or get any worse, you will have to transfer to another class. Do you understand?"

I was nodding, readily agreeing.

"If that's all we have to talk about, may I go?" The teachers agreed when suddenly Mr. Lancer stopped me, "One more thing. Your sleeping problem, what do you plan to do about that?"

"Invest in some really good earplugs," I say, shrugging. Mr. Lancer starts humming a bit in thought while putting the forms back into his desk, "If that doesn't work, then we will be forced to pull you out of an elective and give you a study hall. We can't have you falling asleep throughout the day."

"I'll try harder, sir."

"Have a good day, Danny."

As soon as the words 'Good Day' were out of his mouth, I reached for the door and left. I spotted a clock on my way out of the school, and to my surprise, our talk didn't take any more than forty-five minutes. Once I was out, I walked for a good ten minutes or so, hoping to make it to the Nasty Burger before Sam and Tucker decided to leave.

Once I got to the old dinner, I looked around for my friends, but I couldn't find them in our usual booth. So I looked around some more, hoping to see them sitting somewhere else, but the only familiar faces in there weren't friendly ones. I was just about to leave when I felt a chill going through my body and saw the mist spilling out of my mouth into my face.

I rushed into the bathroom and checked to make sure it was empty before entering a stall and whispered to myself, "guess it's time to die," and let my transformation take over.

My body became inverted, with my black hair becoming a startling white and my eyes going from a light blue to a toxic glowing green. My clothes left my body, and in their place was the hazmat suit from the portal accident.

I rushed out of the nasty Burger and looked around for any sign of danger when I heard off in the distance, "BEWARE, FOR I AM THE MASTER OF ALL THINGS CUBEICAL AND SQUARE!" Oh, for everything good in the world, why of all ghosts did it have to be him. I flew to the back of the restaurant and found him messing with a delivery driver.

I was sneaking up on him when the driver yelped and pointed in my direction, giving away my position. "Really," I say to the driver, "you just had to give me away" I threw my hands up in exasperation. It's going to be so much harder to catch him now. "Come on, Boxxy, do we have to do this again? I sent you back to the zone this morning." That's the thing about Boxxy, the Box Ghost. Despite not being much more than a nuisance, he is one of the most nerve-racking ghosts to catch. If I didn't know any better, I would think he has his own personal portal with how often he slips between dimensions.

Boxxy glowered at me while rushing up into my face, " I AM NOT BOXXY, I AM THE BOX GHOST" I cross my arms trying to make a point, "Isn't that what I just said, Boxxy?"

"BOX GHOST"

"Boxxy"

"BOX GHOST"

"Well, I say your Boxxy."

"BOX GHOST, B-O-X GHOST!"

I wave him off. "Well, come on, Boxxy, I don't have all day" He started chucking boxes at the driver and me while floating away while grumbling about name-calling. It took me half an hour to catch the nuisance, " Any last words, Boxxy" I ask him while pulling out the Fenton Thermos.

"I AM NOT BOXX-" he said while being pulled into the device.

Once he is secured, I retrace my steps, collect the boxes, and return them to the Nasty Burger. When I got there, the driver tried to explain what had happened earlier when I called out to one of the servers.

" Excuse me, but I believe these belong to you." I land in front of the server and gently put the boxes onto the ground. "Oh my gosh, I know you! Your inviso-bill!" I cringed a bit at the name, "The name is Phantom, Danny Phantom," being annoyed that after all these months that people were still messing up my name.

Their aww quickly changed to apologetic, "I'm sorry, Mr.Phantom, sir." I started laughing a little; it was not a giggle, no matter what anyone else claims. It was a laugh, a manly laugh. I couldn't help its escape. No one has ever called me sir before, "It's okay, just happy to help," I reassured. After they had all of their boxes, I flew away.

I started a patrol around the city looking for any malevolent ghost that had managed to get out while occasionally helping little old ladies across the street and saving the occasional cat out of a tree. It's nice to be able to help out even when ghosts aren't attacking. Also, it gives me more time to relax in my ghost form, which I don't get to do very often. Before I knew it, the sun was starting to set, and it was time to make my way home.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #mr lancer #oc character #fanfic #fanfiction #chapter 1

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rosezure · 4 years ago

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Todoroki Family - My Opinion

MANGA SPOILERS FOR BNHA/MHA ahead!

CW: parental neglect and abuse, anxiety, therapy, Touya Todoroki/Dabi, Enji Todoroki/Endeavor, spoilers, swearing (please remind me if I forgot anything).

Disclaimer: All of the information on the Todoroki family dynamics is based on my interpretation of what’s been (so far) revealed through the anime and manga. These are all just opinions, you are free to agree or disagree respectfully. I do not wish to invalidate anyone’s opinion. Family dynamics have always been a very sensitive and triggering subject to me, so I hope that you respect that if you wish to discuss this with me.I would like to give my own two cents on the Todoroki family situation. As someone that has dealt with abuse and neglect in a (slightly) similar way my whole life, this story hits very close to home. I will try to be as thorough and objective as possible. But, feel free to call me out (respectfully) if there is anything ambiguous or if problematic. Thank you.

I am going to focus on Touya/Dabi and Enji’s story. I do not know enough to talk about Rei’s role in all of this, so I will not mention her. But, I might update this as new chapters come out.

I will talk about Dabi’s early years by referring to him as Touya since that was his identity at the time. Any comments about him as an adult will be referring to him as Dabi.

I was a psychology student for about two years, and when we learned about child development, here is what I gathered:

When you are a child, all you want is to be loved, to be safe. This is essential to a child, as it is what develops them into a healthy and independent adult. And, this is especially important concerning parents or guardians. Effective parenting practices ensure that the child will have a better chance at developing according to their age and needs. This will grant the kids skills that they will use and perfect as they grow up. In other words, children that are well-taken care of have a higher chance of being strong, healthy, and emotionally developed adults.

When a parent or guardian is ignorant of how they can impact their child’s growth, it has many negative effects. In Touya’s case, Enji Todoroki was clueless. This does not mean Enji should not be held responsible just because he was ignorant. Enji knew he was not being the best parent, but he did not know how exactly. And, at the time he was blinded by his greed and ambition, so he would not have been paying attention to that. Even so, (personally) I do not think parents are afforded the luxury of ignoring their bad parenting if they are made aware of it. They are responsible for another human’s life and growth. They should be held accountable if the child develops issues and hurts themselves or even others.

With that being said, Enji Todoroki was a horrible but clueless parent. From what I have understood from the manga and the anime, at first, he had no idea why Shoto was so "rebellious" (in his opinion). He also seemed to not understand Natsuo and Fuyumi. So I am led to believe that he was, at the time, oblivious to how much he negatively impacted Touya.

Touya just wanted his father’s affection. If that meant grueling training and preparing to become a hero to defeat All Might, then so be it. It was the attention and affection he knew. He was not led to believe otherwise. Touya's sole positive interactions came from him showing he could fulfill his father’s sick dream. In a child’s mind, that was the only way to secure parental love and approval: To train as hard as possible and become what his father so desperately wished for.

Then his hair started turning white. He started getting injured because of his quirk. His only source of positive attention, his only hope for affection, was killing him. And it had to be stopped. I am sure in Touya’s mind, this meant he would not be loved anymore.

And then Enji stopped training him. Natsuo was born. Shoto was born. And Touya felt that his source of love was directed to that baby. The baby that Enji saw as a success. Enji made Touya feel like a failure, a broken toy. And he was being replaced by a newer, shinier one: His brother.

When he tries to attack Shoto, he is trying to take back his place. Touya was trying to gain back his father’s love and attention.

Enji wanted to prevent Touya from hurting himself more. But he failed to communicate that. Instead, his words made it seem like his plan was foiled. Touya wasn’t enough, so Enji’s chance of using him to end All Might vanished. Touya wasn’t what Enji needed anymore.

Touya’s world didn’t collapse all at once. It didn’t even crack all at once. From what I understood, it was a collection of hairline fractures that never healed. It was a dislocated shoulder that was never put back in its place and was left to hang. It was a pounding headache that only grew more and more painful over time.

When Dabi was born, Touya had been buried in bruises, paper cuts, minor broken bones, chronic illnesses. Touya was killed by exhaustion and pain. He didn’t die at one point, he was dying all along.

As someone who suffers from chronic issues, I know that the somatization of symptoms and other sources of pain can turn a simple illness into something much more serious. Think of it as a butterfly effect, but all inside one person: Every single negative experience, from both outer and inner sources, all summed and turned into one massive festering wound.

Touya’s mind was a living open wound, it seems.

So Dabi was born. To seal the wound shut. Clean it? No. Protect it? Maybe.

But this particular type of wound (the psychological, emotional one) if left untreated can become infected. And infected wounds are harder and more painful to clean and treat.

Dabi’s mind is a bandaid over an infected wound. It seems objectively okay, maybe even sane. But he’s clearly in pain. He’s not in his right mind. His decisions all stem from the pure rage and anger of a child that was abandoned.

What chapter 300 brought was the perspective of a child that just wanted to be loved. That's all he wanted. And the only love he knew was when Enji Todoroki trained with him, no matter how gruesome and painful it must've been.

I'm gonna briefly and superficially compare his situation to mine. Of course, I didn’t suffer half of the pain he did, and I won't go into any detail as to not trigger myself. But, I only got attention when I was either extremely sick or I was needed as a trophy child of some sort. Even then, if I was ill, the attention I got was so I could get well soon and go back to being "useful". I was an extension of them, at best. But I still craved their attention. I still do in a way to this very day. It's not something that just goes away once you realize how toxic and abusive it is.

No matter how much pain I’m in, no matter how love-starved I am, I still want their approval. Inside me, there’s still a scared child, crying out for her parents to love her. That child is now my responsibility. I have to give her love, nurture her so she can grow with me.

Does that make sense?

I have no idea how Dabi is feeling. And I don’t think we’ll ever truly know. He is fictional, after all, and there’s no telling if Horikoshi will be delving into that.

But maybe Touya is still inside Dabi, crying, screaming to be loved. And Dabi is trying his best to tend to that child, but he never truly grew up to know how to take care of another being. Dabi doesn’t know how to take care of himself emotionally.

I’m learning because I, thankfully, have access to therapy. But it hurts. It hurts to realize the ones that were meant to take care of you, didn’t. It hurts to look into yourself and see a shaking, teary-eyed child begging for crumbs of love.

Now, with the whole "redemption" thing being debated, here's my own personal opinion. You don't have to agree, and I'm not asking you to. Again, this is just how I view it. As a survivor, I'd be relieved to see my parents try. The damage is done, true. I'll never regain my childhood. I'll never have what people with different, better, parents have. The past can't be reversed. And I'm seeing it repeat itself with my little brother. But, if there's a minimal chance that my parents can own up to what they did, that they open themselves up to changing their behavior and learning, then maybe we can build something new.

Build. Not rebuild. The foundation of our past relationship was rotten from the beginning. A new one must be built. A new foundation must be developed if we ever hope to make something of our relationship.

If the Todorokis, really want to reconcile, reconnect, rebuild, then they must start from scratch. If Enji Todoroki wants that, he’s gonna have to start from zero, from nothing. And I'm not entirely sure if Endeavor is doing that, but he is trying, somehow. We don't know for sure if he even has the emotional skills to do so. We can't say for sure that he's got what it takes to man up, own up and learn. But, he seems to be trying.

And that's something I've accepted I'll never have.

So if there's at least a 1% chance that he is truly trying, that Enji wants to redeem himself, then let him. Let their family try and heal together if that's what they want.

I'm not sure about the Japanese culture when it comes to family. But where I come from, a family is an important base of our personal and social development, to the point that reconciliation more often than not is the best route.

Still, I know it's not for everyone. So I respect you if you believe he doesn't deserve a chance. I understand if you say Enji Todoroki should be kept far away from his family. You're right, and you're valid.

But, please, please, if the author decides that he redeems himself and does try his best to start a new relationship with his family, let him. Let them heal. Together. Let them try and make up for the lost time in the best way in the present. Let them rebuild.

I know I'd give anything to rebuild my family.

Let Touya be healed and put Dabi to rest. Touya needs to be loved, he needs to be taken care of like he never was as a child. Dabi needs to be told he tried. He needs to be told he did what he could.

But Dabi is also an adult now. He’s got legal responsibilities. The pain and devastation he’s caused and helped cause can’t be overlooked. He needs help, but he also had to be held accountable.

Touya/Dabi needs to face himself and start over. He needs to face the man he’s become and at the same time take care of the child he wasn’t able to be.

If the Todoroki family is reconciled, I dearly hope he gets to be a part of this new book. Not a new chapter, they need to throw that whole book away and start a new one. And, if possible, I’d love to see someone like me get the ending I won’t be getting.

I hope this made some sense at least. Again, if anything is unclear, ambiguous, or problematic, let me know and I’ll do my best to correct or remove the bad parts. If you’ve read this far, thank you. If you share a similar experience, I’m sorry, and I’m here for you.

#bnha #mha #bnha 300 #bnha 301 #bnha spoilers #bnha discussion #touya todoroki #dabi #enji todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki family #fuyumi todoroki #natsuo todoroki #rei todoroki #touya #shoto #endeavor #endeavour

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seventhstrife · 3 years ago

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SubScorp Week 2021 Day 4: Lust 1/3

I AM SO MAD ABOUT THIS PROMPT!!! IT GOT RIDICULOUSLY LONG!!! LIKE, AN UNREASONABLE LENGTH OF FIC WAS ACHIEVED THROUGH THIS PROMPT THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THE EASIEST ONE!!! WHY IS MY BRAIN LIKE THIS!!!

Special shoutout to all of the wonderful, lovely, ridiculously patient people on discord who weathered me complaining about my stupid hellbrain lolol

Only part 1 tonight since I literally spent all day writing nearly 10k words, and there’s no way I can edit it and also sleep before my shift LOL

Read it on AO3.

Part 2

It would have been kinder, perhaps, to simply announce his arrival, but Hanzo had grown so fond of being amused in recent years and he could not resist the urge to indulge.

Gathering a handful of small stones, Hanzo climbed the nearest building and darted across the sun-baked clay of the rooftops, careful to remain unseen as he trailed his target.

A smile curled his lips beneath his mask. He waited until he was sure he was completely concealed, then let loose one of the pebbles in his grasp—a direct hit to the back of Kuai Liang's head.

The sight of Kuai Liang's flinch, as well as the sharp snap of attention and his dark expression of annoyance and suspicion through the crowded, dusty streets of the road, stretched Hanzo's smile into a grin. He bled into the shadows, knowing he would have to be swift if he wanted to stay ahead of Kuai Liang's attention.

He only managed one more stone's throw before Kuai Liang wisened up and scaled the nearest building. He was no fool, and tracing the stone's trajectory was a simple thing. Hanzo was forced to duck behind any cover he could find to avoid the Lin Kuei Grandmaster's thorough, careful scrutiny of his surroundings.

His next throw would be his last, he knew. He would have to make it count if he did not wish to be caught.

Hanzo crouched low and waited for his moment. The instant Kuai Liang turned, still scanning his surroundings for any movement, he sent his last stone flying.

He saw the beginning motion of Kuai Liang's whip-fast reaction, hand darting up in a flash to catch the stone, but Hanzo was already gone, swallowed in hellfire, and before Kuai Liang's fist fully closed around the rock, Hanzo appeared directly behind him.

Hanzo didn't hesitate. He tackled Kuai Liang to the roof, perched atop his chest before he could react.

Blinking in the harsh sunlight, Kuai Liang's scowl of deadly promise melted away into shock.

"Hanzo?"

Hanzo smirked. "Is this the standard of Lin Kuei assassins?" Hanzo shook his head. "Perhaps I should reconsider allying myself with a clan that is so soft."

Kuai Liang's eyes narrowed in a glare, but it was lessened by the reluctant smile that tugged on his lips, as if against his better judgment.

"I think I am the one who should be reconsidering my allies, if they are so eager to attack me on the streets," Kuai Liang pointed out, and Hanzo chuckled, finally stood and offered his arm.

Kuai Liang took the offered hand and absently brushed himself as he stood. His dark eyes, pleased and curious in equal measure, peered at Hanzo with confusion.

"What brings you to Outworld, Hanzo? And to me, specifically?"

Hanzo crossed his arms, gazing across the sand-dusted streets and modest abodes of the city, half of it hollowed out from the bright red clay of a mountain.

"I had received word that you accepted a mission from the Thunder God." Hanzo's face darkened with a grimace. "I would be neglecting the conditions of our alliance if I did not aide you."

"My mission is one of reconnaissance, Hanzo," Kuai Liang said, brow furrowed. "My life is hardly in danger."

"No mission from Raiden is as simple as he makes it seem," Hanzo said darkly. The loss of his clan—again—still burned. "If my presence is an insult, I beg your forgiveness," Hanzo continued, and he bowed. When he rose, he met Kuai Liang's eyes dead-on, determined and stubborn. "Allow me to accompany you, if only to set my mind at ease."

Kuai Liang had appeared taken aback at first, but understanding quickly bled onto his expression, and no little guilt. His own memories of the Kamidogu, and the manipulation he'd suffered, did not appear to have been forgotten either.

"...I accept your offer, Hanzo. Thank you." Kuai Liang said, and he returned the bow. "Shall we?"

The Thunder God's power had sent Kuai Liang to an Outworld city, but Kuai Liang's true destination laid deeper in the forest. An ancient temple, Kuai Liang informed him, long abandoned, had been rumored to have worshippers once more. Raiden merely wanted confirmation of such a thing, to decide his next move. The worship once practiced there had been forbidden, one steeped in ritual sacrifice and practices so brutal and cruel that even Outlanders shunned it, and if some sort of revival was in the making, Raiden suspected it would only be a matter of time before the cult spilled into Earthrealm and claimed the inhabitants there for their depraved rituals.

A simple mission, but one that did nothing to abate the uneasy feeling that had overcome Hanzo from the moment he'd learned of Kuai Liang's undertaking. He had not lied to Kuai Liang for his reasons for being here, but he had neglected the full truth: that, more than anything, he worried for his friend and what might happen to him when caught up in another machination of a God.

Once Kuai Liang had debriefed him, they fell into silence, traveling the forest with their ears peeled for the slightest sound that stuck out: voices, a footstep, anything that would confirm Raiden's suspicions. But caution and vigilance would only help them so much if Raiden had sent them into some sort of trap.

Hanzo pushed the worry from his mind. Nothing will happen to him. I will ensure it, he vowed.

The temple emerged from the trees when they were nearly on top of it. If it had been recently re-occupied, it did not show on the outside. The forest had been allowed to encroach upon it, nearly to the doors, and lichen and vines covered the side of the crumbling stone building as nature reclaimed it.

Hanzo and Kuai Liang knelt side by side as they observed the building, but it truly seemed abandoned.

"Shall we take a closer look?" Kuai Liang asked once it was plain they were quite alone outside.

Hanzo repressed a grimace; telling Kuai Liang he had a 'bad feeling' was out of the question, unless he wanted to make Kuai Liang think he indulged silly superstition and thus, lose his respect forever.

Hanzo nodded. They took a closer look.

Their steps were slow and cautious as they climbed the sun-bleached steps. Cracks and fissures stretched across nearly every surface, and while the stains were very faint, Hanzo still recognized the dried blood dotted across the stone.

It only took a few minutes to carefully sweep the temple for signs of life, and they met in the dusty temple's center once they were done.

"It appears abandoned," Kuai Liang observed, dark eyes lingering in a dark corner for one last check before he finally looked at Hanzo.

"I agree," Hanzo said, crossing his arms. "I hope the Thunder God has promised you something worthwhile for this waste of time."

A small smile tugged on Kuai Liang's lips; Hanzo pretended he did not find the sight incredibly gratifying.

"The terms of a contract are confidential, Hanzo."

"So, nothing," Hanzo surmised with a nod. "Unsurprising."

Kuai Liang's smile grew, amused. "Your time was wasted as well," he pointed out. "Will you demand compensation from Raiden?"

"Do not tempt me," Hanzo warned. He could do so without shame or remorse. After what the Thunder God had put them both through, it was the least he deserved.

Kuai Liang opened his mouth, eyes dancing with mirth—

But then his eyes shifted, just slightly, and he tensed, all over.

Hanzo barely had time to react before Kuai Liang was shoving him with a rough shout of, "Get down!"

His balance was upset but Hanzo recovered, quickly rolled to his feet in a crouch, one arm braced on the floor, the other already unsheathing his dagger.

"Jussst asss my hunger growsss, what ssshould I find but fresssh blood in the unlikeliessst of placesss?"

Skarlet ascended the last steps of the temple, an expression of satisfaction and interest on her features. She held a single hand aloft where an orb of thick, viscous blood twirled idly.

She came to a stop some distance away and widened her stance. Her fingers curled into claws and she stretched the blood like a scarf between her palms. Her eyes flashed between the two of them.

"My lucky day," she rasped slowly.

Hanzo frowned heavily, though it was almost a relief to finally face the inevitable complication he had been expecting this entire time. He darted a quick glance at Kuai Liang.

Kuai Liang was much in the same position and appeared unscathed as he leveled Skarlet with a heavy frown. A smear of blood shards streaked across the space they once stood.

"What are you doing here, Skarlet?" Pure, icy contempt dripped from his tone.

"I am the one who ssshould be asssking the questions, Sub-Zero." Skarlet arched a single thin eyebrow. "Asss the Outworlder, I am not the one who doesss not belong here..."

Hanzo rose and Skarlet's gaze cut to him, wary and deadly. He unsheathed his second dagger and gave them a spin.

"You are outmatched, Skarlet." He pointed at her with a blade. "You would be wise to leave."

Her mouth was hidden behind a crimson mask, but her smile was only too obvious in her tone.

"I am trembling with fear," Skarlet said mockingly, and barely before she'd finished drawing breath, she moved her hands in a quick sweeping motion that sent a wide arch of blood, suddenly crystallized, straight for them.

Kuai Liang had his ice to defend himself with, so Hanzo did not waste a moment summoning a ring of fire, nose wrinkling as the blood met his flames and burst on impact. A power based on draining the life from another—it was barbaric.

Hanzo's words had not been an idle boast—together, he and Kuai Liang were formidable, and years of fighting at one another's side had only fostered a deadly alliance, one of devastating power and precise, efficient strategy.

Barely minutes into the fight, Skarlet was showing signs of unease. She was smart to keep her back to a wall at all times, to better prevent them from flanking her, but the ceaseless assault of ice and fire was clearly wearing on her.

When Kuai Liang froze her leg, just long enough so that she caught a fireball to the chest, she staggered, fell to one knee as her harsh breaths echoed through the ancient temple.

Tales of her cunning and deadliness had not escaped them, however, and neither man allowed their guard down, approaching slowly, fists raised.

"Thisss," Skarlet panted, glaring at the two of them, "Isss hardly fair, isss it?"

"You chose this fight, Skarlet," Kuai Liang said pitilessly.

The way her eyes narrowed at Kuai Liang—that earlier feeling of unease rose within Hanzo once more.

"I did," she agreed. "And it isss time I evened the oddsss..."

Skarlet thrust the hand—that before had been clutching her side—at Kuai Liang, and a small disk of blood, no doubt razor-sharp, shot towards him at an incredible speed.

Too fast to deflect it properly, Kuai Liang raised his arm, and Hanzo only caught a glimpse of how it burst moments before impact, hovered in the air in dozens of pinpricks of needle-thin blades, before crashing again. As Kuai Liang dropped to a knee and ducked, shielding his face from the worst of it, Hanzo was already backing away as Skarlet flew at him in a sudden burst of deadly fury.

"I can already tassste your blood," Skarlet said with relish. The blade of her blood dagger locked with Hanzo's and their faces hovered close. Her eyes shined with wicked triumph. "I will enjoy gorging myssself in the daysss to come."

Hanzo only glared back, disgusted. Between them, a sudden light grew and Skarlet glanced down with wide eyes to see her dagger glowing-white hot to match where it met Hanzo's as his arms caught fire.

An instant later, the blade, warped, shifted, and burst. Skarlet cried out, backing away as the blood singed her and the hands she shook out were bright red from the blistering heat.

"You will only taste defeat," Hanzo swore, summoning his kunai.

The low thump of a body hitting the ground drew his attention away, however, and it was with dread that Hanzo clapped eyes on Kuai Liang—teeth gritted in a grimace of pain, hands clawed against the stone as if he might crumble the stone at their feet.

He raised glassy, straining eyes to meet his.

"H-Hanzo," Kuai Liang managed, and then he shuddered, hunched over, and a low grunt of pain escaped him.

The sight and sound of him chilled Hanzo to his very core. Kuai Liang had been trained, practically since infancy, to withstand incredible amounts of pain. Anything that made him cry out like that—

Hanzo looked to Skarlet and he had no problem recognizing the sheer relish and satisfaction of her expression.

The hellfire, always kept carefully maintained, overflowed into instant, black fury.

Faster than she could ever predict, Hanzo flew across the room, seized Skarlet by her neck and did not stop until he slammed her against the opposite wall. Her strangled choke—brutally cut off by his hands, pressing deep—only incensed him further because this one cry of pain was not enough.

"What have you done to him?"

Skarlet strained against his grip, but she could not touch him, not when he burned so hot. She quickly realized she could not escape, but she only laughed, a reedy, raspy thing that made Hanzo see red.

"It—It isss a new concoction," she hissed, throat working harshly beneath his fingers. He barely loosened his grip so that she could speak, despising every moment he was not killing her. "One I-I have been..." She swallowed. Her heels scraped against the stone wall for purchase. "Very eager to try out."

Hanzo tightened his grip once more and Skarlet's eyes grew larger, panicked and desperate.

"WHAT. HAVE. YOU. DONE."

With each word, flames licked Hanzo's tongue, eager to escape. The temptation to release the flames on Skarlet's wretched head, to burn away her smirk until only bone remained, was nearly overwhelming.

But Kuai Liang's life hung in the balance. He could not give in to anger.

He allowed Skarlet breath, and she finally spoke, "That blood wasss poisoned," Skarlet hissed and Hanzo tensed.

"Where is the antidote," he demanded, and Skarlet laughed again.

"It isss not that sort of poissson," she said. "Thisss one was made for...ssspecial occasssionsss..."

Hanzo narrowed his eyes. "What does that mean?"

Skarlet looked into his eyes and victory shined in her dark, mad eyes.

"It isss a powerful aphrodisssiac," she purred, and Hanzo tensed. "If he is not sssatiated, his blood will boil."

Alarmed, Hanzo glanced at Kaui Liang. It looked as if he was already feeling the effects, if the way he clutched his abdomen meant anything. He ground his forehead against the filthy stone floor and even a short distance away, Hanzo could see the red welts rising from his skin, as if he were burning from the inside out.

"It would be bessst," Skarlet continued, able to speak more in Hanzo's moment of distraction, "If you left usss here." Her eyes darkened with desire and twisted eagerness. "I am more than up to the tasssk of helping him, and I am sssure he will find me very sssastisfying."

Kuai Liang would rather die, Hanzo knew.

Slowly, every line of his body a taut line of repressed violence, Hanzo allowed Skarlet to slide back down the wall so that her feet touched the floor.

Her eyes brightened with victory—and then Hanzo yanked her close, so that they instead widened with surprise and a quick flash of fear—for he had not released her yet.

"No," he simply said, and then he shoved Skarlet back.

Her skull cracked against the stone and she went limp.

Hanzo let her drop carelessly, turned his back on her, and quickly made his way to Kuai Liang's side. She would not die, he was sure of it, and though he dearly wanted to make her pay for poisoning Kuai Liang, there was still a chance she would be needed in the future, should her words prove false and some sort of antidote could only be procured through her repulsive blood magic.

Hanzo fell to his knees at Kuai Liang's head, hands hovering or unsure.

"Kuai Liang..."

Shakily, Kuai Liang raised his head. Hanzo didn't hesitate to clasp his hand when it was raised and his eyes widened to feel the heat of him, hot enough to rival his own skin.

"Hanzo..." Through his fierce grimace, Hanzo saw the flicker of uncertainty, the worry and anxiety brought on by this sudden vulnerability.

"I have you," Hanzo assured him and he squeezed his hand tightly. "We will fix this, I promise you."

Kuai Liang stared into his eyes for a moment, panting, face beginning to bead with sweat.

He sagged with a nod, weary and pained.

Hanzo swallowed them both in hellfire, and only the scorched stone and Skarlet's crumpled form marked their ever being in Outworld.

#@subscorp-week #@maagspies #@summertrapped #subscorpweek #subscorpweek2021 #subscorp #mk #mortal kombat #my stuff #my fics

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