#so i really really liked that he wasn't beaten

[hannieehaee]

LO$ER=LO♡ER (teaser)

18+ / mdi

summary: jihoon's been pushed aside and ostracized from the moment he was born. completely alone, with no family and only a handful of friends, he's been too beaten down to expect anything good with the shitty cards life has dealt him. when he's presented with his new coworker, it's hard to not fantasize about her, but he'll never actually allow himself to believe she could ever look like him with anything but pity — just like everyone else.

content: loser!jihoon, antisocial!jihoon, sociallyawkward!jihoon, insecure!jihoon, sunshine!reader, jihoon is basically just a complete loser with horrible luck who's never felt true happiness (sorry), mentions of bullying, mentions of jihoon's sad past, sunshine!reader, slowburn, lots of worldbuilding but its just so u can feel sorry for jihoon lol, coworkers au, pining, miscommunication, afab reader, smut, sub!jihoon, virgin!jihoon, handjob, body worship, nipple play, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.

(^ no actual content warnings in the teaser)

wc: 1.9k (teaser); 14k (full fic)

RELEASE DATE: february 10th!

or you can check it out on my patreon today by subscribing!

a/n: i put together every form of loserism and created this jihoon

masterlist

Every week was the same.

Jihoon would get up, fix his overgrown hair the best he could, and take the train over to work.

This was as far as he'd gotten in life; an overly repetitive existence with no sense of joy within it.

He should've been happy. Things were better now. Being 27 with a stable job and no real issues in his life should be something to be grateful for, yet Jihoon found himself being completely displeased with his life.

Surely there must be more to life than this, right? A lonely and loveless life that appeared to be leading him nowhere. But still, things were better than before.

It was hard for Jihoon to speak of his childhood, much less his teenage years (or even his college life). It was all too grim. He'd grown to accept it, to let it all go, but the past had made him who he was, and he knew his current self was to blame for his loneliness. For his lack of love.

And so he continued his daily routine, living day after day with no change in sight. He accepted this with a flat smile, grateful that things were just fine. Not good, not great, not even varied, but just fine.

This week, though, finally had something different. But to Jihoon that was usually bad news.

Were you bad news?

You were the brand new thing in his life.

It was your first week in his office. A brand new face. A very pretty face.

Jihoon never thought about such things. He'd never had any romantic experience in his life. He had a long distance girlfriend once, but even that didn't work out. Too much distance, too many lies, too many complications. Jihoon just wasn't made for love.

So he never thought of such things again.

It was rare for him to even see a pretty girl on his day to day. His morning commute was far too early and filled with people way too old for him to even look in the eye without feeling disrespectful. His workplace, although consisted of a variety of people, was not a place where he felt very welcome initiating friendships or anything of the sort. Cliques had ended in high school, he thought, yet he found himself at the bottom of the food chain among his coworkers. He wasn't liked and was deliberately avoided by everyone around him.

Until you came along.

Finding you beautiful was no surprise to Jihoon. It was the most obvious thing in the world. Putting appearances aside, you were sunshine personified. Smart, confident, hardworking, gentle, nice, beautiful. You were everything anyone could ever want. At times Jihoon even wondered whether he wanted you or if he just wanted to be like you.

You'd caused an immense impression in him within the short time in which he'd known you.

He hadn't really gotten to know you on a personal level yet. But you had extended him an olive branch upon the first meeting, which was a memory that had implanted itself on his mind. It was rare for Jihoon to come by good memories.

This was the first time he'd felt accepted in a very long time. Yet the fears of it turning around and slapping him in the face (like in so many prior instances) was too big for him to really consider you good news in his life.

It was kind of embarrassing looking back at it. Jihoon hadn't been expecting you (how could he have?), but you suddenly showed up at his cubicle accompanied by one of his coworkers, Doyle.

Doyle wasn't someone Jihoon thought too much about — or at least he tried not to. He was the classic high school bully, except in a corporate-world wrapping. Jihoon had dealt with bullies his whole life, he'd become desensitized to it by now. Still, it bothered him to see him standing next to you. He hadn't met you yet, but he was immediately disheartened by the new girl at the office looking buddy-buddy with someone he considered an adversary.

What had been surprising to Jihoon, though, was your complete disinterest in Doyle's obvious advances.

It was pretty often that Doyle would attempt to assert his dominance by putting Jihoon down in front of other coworkers. He'd tease him and patronize him in front of anyone to see in order to show others who was in charge. And it was not Jihoon, that was for damn sure.

Jihoon got up as soon as he sensed a presence at his cubicle, somehow managing to stumble over his feet as he did so. When he looked up, he was not expecting you, yet there you were. Beautiful, smiling down at him with genuine interest in your eyes. You didn't know him, but you had kindness in your eyes. He could tell.

He stumbled over an introduction as Doyle interrupted him, telling you Jihoon's name and position at the company for him. Unwarranted and once again showing that if he so wished, he could speak over Jihoon.

But you'd interrupted him in return, turning to Jihoon to extend your hand with that smile never leaving your lips.

"Hi, it's really nice to meet you," you'd smiled as he felt fire at the mere handshake.

"Hi, I, uhm, I'm Jihoon. Lee Jihoon. I didn't realize we had someone new coming. It's nice to meet you. You- If you need anything, you can always ask me," he slapped himself mentally when he said it. He stuttered his way through it like a fucking loser. His immediate attraction to you was too obvious. Doyle's smirk as he stood beside you told him all he needed to know.

"Oh, that's so nice, thank you! I'm right next door. Well- right next cubicle, so I'll probably take you up on that sooner or later," you laughed at your own attempt of a joke.

Jihoon couldn't help chuckling back, ignoring Doyle as he patted your shoulder, laughing along. Jihoon noticed a short-lived discomfort in your eyes at the action, one which died when your eyes went back to him.

Was he imagining it, or were you showing preference towards Jihoon?

"Well, let's not bother our little Jihoonie here any longer," Doyle interrupted once more, "It's almost lunch time," he leaned in to tell you, looking down at Jihoon, "We all usually go to a burger joint nearby — Jihoonie here likes to stay in, so we try to stay out of his way."

That wasn't entirely true.

Once upon a time, Jihoon did attempt to join the rest of his coworkers in outings, but he was always alienated. After a few too many slights about his hair, his height, his weird choice in clothing, or even just his personality, he decided to stray away from anything that wasn't strictly professional when it came to his coworkers. He was always the butt of the joke, so he made the decision to isolate in the office with a cold sandwich he packed for himself every day.

Sometimes his friends Soonyoung and Mingyu from accounting would join him, but there was usually not enough time to see them during regular working hours. This left him alone most of the time.

Your face seemed to deflate at Doyle's words. Whether it was out of pity for Jihoon or annoyance at Doyle's overzealous confidence around you, he wasn't sure.

"Oh, I actually brought a packed lunch," you told Doyle before turning to face Jihoon again, "Would it be okay if I stay in with you?", you looked at him with expectant eyes.

"You wanna, uhm, have lunch with me?", he asked dumbly and you nodded, "Y-yeah, that'd be nice, yes," he attempted a shy smile, succeeding when you returned it.

Doyle cleared his throat, interrupting the silent smiles you and Jihoon were sharing.

"Well, I could stay in with you if you want, I-"

But you interrupted him again.

"That's fine. I don't wanna get in the way of your plans. Jihoon will make fine company," you said politely, stepping away from Doyle to head over to your desk, popping back next to Jihoon with a brown paper bag.

Doyle looked dumbfounded for a few moments before masking it with a tight smile. Jihoon simply stood there as you pulled up a chair and settled it on Jihoon's desk, paying no mind to Doyle.

"I guess I'll leave you two to it. I'll keep showing you around after lunch. You have my number if you need anything," Doyle made emphasis on that last statement, offering you what looked like a genuine smile before giving Jihoon a look that told him he still felt victorious in the end.

"Thanks, Doyle! Bye!," you smiled back before turning to Jihoon.

Lunch was incredibly awkward for Jihoon. But that wasn't your fault. You'd been incredibly nice, asking him questions and keeping the conversation going despite the mumbly, shy mess Jihoon was. The conversation was entirely carried by you, with you surprisingly taking an interest in him. Every word, every gesture, they all led him to believe you were genuinely nice.

At the same time, he felt entirely delusional.

It wasn't often that people were nice to him, so it was likely he was building it up to be more than it actually was. You likely did not want to stay in with him, but after Doyle brought up that Jihoon was the only one in the office during lunch break, you had no option but to join him since you also planned to stay in. However, you were a good team player, Jihoon believed. Not many people would sacrifice their lunch to stay in with the black sheep of the office just to rid yourself of any possible awkwardness. Jihoon knew damn well many previous coworkers had gone out of their way to avoid him before.

But despite the belief that you simply pitied him, Jihoon missed your time spent together the moment it ended. He felt shy and blushed bright red at every single word uttered from you, but it had been the nicest interaction he'd had in a long time (a long, long time).

That had happened last Wednesday, repeating itself on Thursday, Friday, and then a whole weekend was spent with Jihoon solely thinking about you. Time that he usually spent reading or playing chess online was instead used up to think about you. It was mostly to overthink every tiny interaction and panic over it, but it was was still preoccupied by you.

But he also thought about other things.

How beautiful he found you to be. How nice, funny, hardworking, smart and riveting you were (despite this being an assessment he'd made in less than a week of knowing you). This was Jihoon's first crush in ... he couldn't even remember how long.

And it was terrible.

Every crush he'd ever had had turned out terribly. Harmless elementary school crushes turned into pranks pulled by his classmates in order to embarrass him. Prepubescent middle school crushes became false confessions that led to public embarrassment. Hopeless high school crushes were nothing but a farse that led him into giving up altogether.

Throughout his practically non-existent love life, Jihoon had always been met by nothing but discouragement, sometimes by simple rejection and other times by harassment from people who believed him to be unworthy of being liked. These were memories he did not like to relive, but the resurgence of feelings for someone brought them all back.

And so he was unsure of how to feel. He was unsure of whether to let himself like you or recoil, unwilling to even try.

...

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[fritzes]

and away we go! here are my two cents on the australian open draw. as always I try to be as unbiased as possible... but sometimes that isn't very possible. anyways, here it is:

wta:

I gotta say it's really weird not seeing iga in the top spot on the draw. so massive props to aryna. the fact that she's #1 is indicative of how great she's been, especially on hardcourt. she's the clear favorite, and her draw only supports that. her projected quarterfinalist is qinwen, her known pigeon. mirra is also lurking in this quarter, but when she beat aryna at rg aryna was very clearly ill, and she just beat mirra in brisbane. however, the bane of aryna's existence, donna vekic, is in this quarter but she's on the other side and could be beaten by someone like diana or qinwen. a lot of interesting names in this quarter, but I don't think any of them can beat aryna

coco was in great form at the united cup, but she's got her work cut out for her. her record against jess, the projected quarterfinalist, isn't great, and marta and paula being in the quarter is a little concerning. however, there are a bunch of players who could normally be threats that are completely neutralized by coco (I'm thinking karo, leylah, and penko), so that's a lot of seeds that are out of her way. naomi is also in this quarter and obviously has a great record at ao and has shown that she can do some damage at slams. if she's healthy, she can potentially make a run here

aryna vs coco is so interesting right now, and I think they can both get to the semifinal. aryna is #1 and this is truly her tournament, but coco's improvement over just the last few months has been great, and she was beating aryna even before that

I've already been seeing people write off jasmine, and I think that's a mistake. people forget that her first slam breakout was at ao24, not rg24, and she proved at united cup that she's very competent on this surface. that being said, a healthy elena is a pretty bad draw for her. she beat elena at rg and the wta finals, but elena wasn't fully fit and those were slower surfaces. I think this quarter has the weakest field (not to say there aren't good players, but the other three quarters have more). maybe dayana will make a surprise run again, or madi will have one of her random slam runs, but I'd for sure take the top seeds over the field here

and finally, iga's quarter. at the bottom of the draw. I'm still getting used to that, it's weird. it's interesting because if this draw came out a few months ago, I'd say emma navarro is super dangerous and could be a threat, but she's been in legitimately terrible form lately and I could honestly see her losing first round. if this draw came out a few years ago I'd say maria would go far, but she's been so lost for months now. I think ons jabeur could make a surprise run in the top half of this draw, she's been having some good wins lately and we know how capable she is at slams. I also think there's an opportunity for anna here, as well as vika who is known for being great at this tournament

jasmine has steadily been making her matches with iga closer, and this is a surface iga isn't comfortable on, so I think if that match did happen it could be pretty close

interesting r1 matches: sabalenka/stephens, tomljanovic/krueger, gauff/kenin, osaka/garcia, bencic/ostapenko, navarro/stearns, osorio/sakkari, alexandrova/raducanu, siniakova/swiatek

atp:

I swear they're giving jannik meme draws now. adm? bvdz?? holger??? hubi???? matteo????? TALLON GRIEKSPOOR????? strangely enough, the person who is the biggest threat to jannik is somehow stefanos tsitsipas, but he's on the other side of the draw and I highly doubt he will make it too the quarterfinals. besides, the last time he beat jannik really shouldn't have happened because of that line call in monte carlo. other than him, everyone in this quarter is someone jannik can comfortably, convincingly beat. I don't like to jinx players but he's the world #1 and this quarter is his to lose. on the other side, I do think adm can make the quarterfinals but based on that h2h with jannik, I'm not sure if he wants to

I think the second quarter is the most up in the air. taylor and daniil are both strong contenders to go deep in this tournament but with a lot of question marks around them. daniil because of his recent form and because his wife just had a baby, and taylor because of his mentality. we just don't know how he's gonna handle being a top 4 seed. this quarter is pretty stacked, with gmp, ben, lorenzo musetti, rublev, frances, and alexei. there are also some snaky contenders, like nakashima, shapo, arnaldi, and marozsan. to me, this is the hardest quarter to predict

I don't think I need to say anything about the projected semifinal. just look at the us open final scoreline. taylor has improved a lot since then, but he's just not at the level to beat jannik right now

djokovic/alcaraz quarter. I never thought we'd see the day. but there's a lot to get through before either of them can get there. opelka, who novak just lost to, is very close to him in the draw, as is tomas machac who beat him in geneva. grigor and jiri could also potentially make things difficult for him. on carlos' side, he has to deal with jack and korda who, despite his self-proclaimed greatness at wimbledon (and first round flopping), has actually done pretty well at ao. jack has some injury concerns, but when does he not? if we did get the projected quarterfinal and carlos and novak did play, I'd have to favor carlos but I'm honestly not sure? we haven't seen carlos play this season and ao is easily his worst slam, but novak just lost to opelka so. who knows

the last quarter is very frustrating and you know why. frankly I'm not in the mood to analyze it. I will focus on the top part though because there could be a major upset with felix and casper

interesting r1 matches: hurkacz/griekspoor, zhang/rune, tsitsipas/michelsen, shelton/nakashima, arnaldi/musetti, rindreknech/tiafoe, struff/auger-aliassimee

[xjulixred45x]

Can i make a request of record of ragnarok?

Imagine hades with a s/o who has the personality of our queen 💕YUI KOMORI💕 the most protected person in valhalla!

My Queen, My wife, MY LOVE

Hades x Yui Komori! Reader

Genre: Headcanons

Reader: female

Warnings: SPOILERS FROM ROUND 7 OF RAGNAROK(Kind of), Spoilers from the manga, Reader has a past and personality alike Yui Komori from Diabolik Lovers(so: kind hearted and naive, horrible past), this is kind of based on one ancient versión of Hades and Persephone before the patriarcy set foot on Greece you'll see, Fluff.

• There are few who are blessed by the gods, and yet the few who are end up feeling that it is more of a curse.

• That's what the reader felt from the day she was born.

• When she was concived, her mother was going through pregnancy problems, having pain and nightmares. An omen of something very bad. So they went to see a prophet.

• And what said prophet told them was that reader would be born lifeless, for lack of a heart, unless they received the blessing of the gods and gave their lives to serve them.

• These were desperate times, so desperate measures were resorted to.

• The reader's parents ended up worshiping the god Apollo, hoping that the vain god of medicine would take pity on their misfortune and give them a kind of saving grace for their daughter.

• Fortunately, Apollo likes adorable things, and it would be a shame if such creature, of one of his followers, died while HE of all the gods were present, right?

• This was how the reader's life was saved, however, this ended up as a double-edged sword.

• reader grew up to be a charming and beautiful maiden, very devoted to the god who had saved her life and willing to help in the care of the temple.

• Thanks to this she received certain privileges, such as having access to the temple's literature, being able to go out on her own, etc.

• It was a simple, but cozy existence.

• Of course...not counting Apollo's annoying followers.

• There were certain boys who simply LOVED imitating the god's nastier aspects, and they took it out especially on her. Whether breaking her things, cornering her, insulting her.

• Everything got worse when they discovered Apolo's preferential treatment towards the girl, increasing the attacks to physical violence. Leaving bruises, cuts...

• There were those who were more discreet, trying to make her feel safe and then trying to abuse her trust.

• They even had the GUTS to ask permission to try to court her, another way to haunt her, but fortunately their parents refused when they saw how horrible they were. Unfortunately only made the harassment increase.

• And there really wasn't much she could do, reader knew, even if these boys made her life miserable, she had nowhere else to go.

• However, the reader was very curious to know what was outside of temple life. What kind of people would there be?

• So she take advantage of her privileges to explore a little, nothing serious, just go pick some wildflowers.

• However, what she did not expect was that the boys followed her to those places...

• Reader ran away, she was afraid that now that there wasn't a soul around, the boys would do things they wouldn't normally do, that would hurt her even more or worse. So she ran and ran…

• And then she saw it, a crack in the ground, big enough to climb into, but not for big men. It was a good hiding place.

• she got in quickly, however, when she thought she was completely in, she felt as if she had fallen into a tunnel. She felt like he was falling.

• And in less time than she realized, she hit the ground, leaving everything blurry... and dark...

• When the servants told Hades that they had found something “unusual” he definitely did not expect a beaten, unconscious maiden that appeared out of NOWHERE. Although of course, the cracks that lead to the underworld are one thing, but you have to have TERRIBLE luck to fall into one...

• At least the maiden was lucky that the servants find her and inform him about the situation and that one of the other monsters of Helhaim. That would definitely have been unfortunate for someone so young...

• Hades was genuinely stumped on what to do at first, yes, he could just return the mortal, but from the clothing (and bruised appearance) he could tell that 1- it came from the cult-ahem temple of Apollo and 2- it wasn't necessarily a pleasant stay. It was a runaway.

• Ultimately he would return it when she wakes up. Thats it.

• Reader woke up with the biggest headache of her life, pain in her body, and the strangest thing of all, in a comfortable place...

• Although that feeling of comfort quickly went out the window when she saw a demon depositing something next to her bed, letting out an ear-piercing scream (and scaring the shit out of the demon too?)

• Ah, it seems that the guest is awake, what a relief. It's been a long time since Hades dealt with living humans, so he was afraid she wouldn't wake up, what a relief indeed!

• Well, it seems that the guest was not as relieved as he…

• Hades had to ask the servant to leave so that the mortal could calm down, he politely excused himself and sat next to the bed, introducing himself.

• Reader was obviously scared thinking that 1- she could have offended the god of death and 2- that she could have died. Fortunately it was corrected before having a heart attack.

• Hades assured her that when she felt better she would be returned to the temple of Apollo as if nothing had happened--

• Even the reader was sorprised by how quickly she cut him off shouting NO.

• She didn't want to come back, not now, everything would be worse if she came back now, they've already hurt her before, but now they'll gonna hurt her bad—

• When the reader realizes that she is saying all this to a GOD, she is quick to hang her head and apologize in shame. Even if Hades tells her not to worry about it.

• Honestly, Hades is intrigued by this situation. It is rare that a human would prefer to be in the very underworld than on the surface. So why not unpack the issue a bit?

• Hades proposes a deal to the reader, that she can stay for a while as long as she is useful. And reader, without many options, accepts.

• Hades sincerely thoug that the girl would be hanging around for a few days and that she would eventually leave where she came from, it was the most logical thing.

• However, the god of the underworld was pleasantly surprised when he saw the reader trying to help with the cleaning of the castle (trying being the correct term, since she had never cleaned such a large place), and she was exhausted.

• Several days passed like this, reader taking the task of some servant and only taking breaks to eat or sleep. Even if Hades expected some interest from her, he didn't expect that level of commitment. It was a pleasant surprise.

• He also found it very entertaining, whether watching her hyper-focus with mundane tasks like sweeping or mopping, or having a hard time doing jobs that required the use of brute force (like carrying food for Cerberus).

• At least in those cases Hades offered to lend a hand, even if the girl repeatedly denied him - after all she couldn't continue if her back broke!

• There were also some more tasks related to keeping files or administrative matters, which was somewhat complicated for the maid who, although she had consumed literature, this was DEFINITELY different.

• In those moments she would turn to Hades for assistance, whether it was how something or that worked, or in general if she needed help.

• He had to admit, it was adorable to have this maiden asking questions and asking for his help instead of being scared like most mortals. In general now the god's home felt much more vivid.

• reader was used to routine, it was what kept her alive in the temple of Apollo, so she felt good about being useful. And she wanted to continue being useful to Hades! That made her feel good.

• It was no longer so much a matter of mutual benefit, it was more a matter of enjoying each other while they could.

• Going straight to the relationship, even if it's unconventional, is very sweet.

• Even if the reader is still quite naive there is nothing to fear! She has Scary Dog privilege whenever she hangs out with Hades. You'd have to be pretty stupid to try to mess with the wife of a god anyway.

• Reader can probably extend its lifespan either with Ambrosia or, in the most likely case, Icor. They would probably give it to her at their Wedding ceremony.

• Starting from that, Hades has zero tolerance for those who speak ill of the reader because of her origin. The only “exception” is Poseidon, and he still learned the hard way not to do it in front of Hades.

• It's not that Hades thinks that the reader can't handle things alone, not at all, he is simply aware of the great power imbalance that exists between her and other of his family members. That, plus her naivety, worries him.

• Although of course, it is also an aspect that he loves, the reader always finds the positive side of things even when everything is lost, she sees things with a different lens than the one he is used to, and that makes her very valuable in His life.

• he also doesn't let himself be fooled as easily as other people, Reader can have a strong character when she wants to be firm, and LOVES to see when that happens (when she hits Zeus, for example. God, what a beauty).

• Even if she puts her foot down with him, Hades can't help but take his mind off whatever they were talking about and have a blank head. It's like a switch.

• Despite being mortal, Hades takes his partner's opinions into consideration, after all they are king AND queen of Heilhaim, they have to be able to agree to rule appropriately.

• Hades is something of a heavy hand. While a reader is more the queen of the people, so to speak. Balanced in its own way.

• One of the ways Hades expresses his love is by making the reader nervous, whether by giving her cute nicknames, making more physical contact, etc. He likes to see how shy she gets. He can't help it! It's very cute!

• On that same note, Hades likes to give gifts to his partner, whether it's something she likes or has asked for or simply to see her reaction. Again, very adorable.

• Hades is not against PDA, he enjoys any show of affection from his partner. I think it would only be limited in certain political situations. But when it's all over? He'll Let the reader hug him like a koala. Heaven.

• You can bet that while Hades doesn't doubt his partner for a second, he will definitely destroy anyone who tries anything with her (or has tried, good luck Apollo worshipers).

• Reader playing with Cerberus….reader playing with Cerberus…(there is no way for Hades to stop this, he just gave up at this point and makes sure Cerby doesn't eat her. At least reader is happy).

• Overall, an odd couple in a good way.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[velvetvexations]

human trafficking anon here again people say i am 'cruel' for not having empathy for people who were hurt by men and now hate men. because they're traumatised and scared and whatnot and how dare i not have empathy for them hating all men but the thing is. when i see these people say 'fuck all men' 'all men are monsters' 'kill all men' all i think of is the little boy i grew up with in that trafficking ring (tw for child abuse, and mentions of child death ahead) this boy was my best friend. we were both being trafficked in the same area and at the same time and he was the same age as me. we both wound up spending a lot of time together and he got hurt FAR worse than i did. because he was more disadvantaged than me when i hear these people say 'it's insensitive for you to not understand why i hate all men. they're my oppressors i am allowed to hate them', i think of the little boy who i had to hold while he was wounded and sobbing. or while he limped over to me after being beaten over the most minor misbehaviour. i think about the little boy who grabbed my hand every time an adult came near because he was so fucking scared that they'd kill him this time and i think about the time we coloured in together. and the time we looked up at the stars together. and i think about all the times i hugged him and he hugged me back. i think about how he was so disadvantaged by society that there wasn't even a missing person's report made when he died. i think about how fucking easy it was for our organisation to make him disappear like he'd never existed at all and i think about how this constant 'all men are evil' nonsense spouted in leftist spaces helps absolutely fucking nobody. it is not productive. if your trauma leads you to hate an entire demographic of people so blindly then that is something you need to work on in therapy. hating an entire demographic helps absolutely nobody and when i see people spout this 'men suck. men are all abusive. i hate every man to exist' i just think about my best friend, that terrified little boy who didn't get to grow up because society turned their backs on him. and i can't help but think about how utterly fucking pointless it is to spend so much energy preaching hatred towards others online when there are such bigger things in the world. men existing is not the fucking problem. the patriarchy and misogyny is the problem. why waste your time posting about how much you hate men instead of doing something to help other victims

anon who got trafficked again radfems can bitch and moan at me about how 'erm i have the right to hate all men you're just mean for not sympathising with me for being traumatised' i do not give a fuck. yell at me all you want. it is not going to make me believe that hating an entire group of people for something out of their control is okay or normal. i really don't fucking care that men are given an oppressive position in society i still think it's fucking weird and ultimately unhelpful to hate 50% of the world's population also because! i used to BE the guy who hated men and was terrified of them! guess what changed! i went to therapy! i saw many many psychologists and psychiatrists! i spent time with my friends who were men! and i realised that it's not fair to hate random people for the horrific things that others did to me! it is not the fault of every man in the world that i got trafficked by a man! being cautious around others is understandable and okay. living your life with a vicious seething hatred and terror towards men is unhelpful and will end up damaging your psyche in the long run. the first fucking thing a psychologist ever told me was that living in terror and hatred of others is only going to hurt me in the long run. a life lived in terror and hatred is hardly a life at all

'i have trauma from men so i should be able to [insert cruel thing here]' is low key hilarious to me

i was trafficked as a child. a lot of the people who hurt me were men.

does this mean all men are evil? no. it means that more white rich cis men have the privilege required to get away with abusing children. because there were a significant amount of women who also hurt me

somehow, miraculously, me having trauma caused by men has not led me to hate every single man ever and decide that every single man on the planet is evil and irredeemable. if i can be literally trafficked by men and still not decide that i should be allowed to be as cruel and rude as i want then i think it is genuinely a skill issue when others decide they should be able to be as mean to men as they want

like. random individual men are not the problem. and irrationally hating every man ever is not going to solve anything

you're stronger than any US marine or radfem, anon

[girl-drink-drunk]

okay, i have had a moment to process this and honestly if sal was gonna die (i figured he would but i dreamt), then yes, i like that he just had a heart attack. considering he's been going through a lot of stress, and this was a brutal fight, it makes sense. but also, in that way, no one really killed sal, and oz knows it, that's why he got so pissed. he just lasted longer than sal, and that's no real victory, not like killing him would've been

[gilgil-machine]

I hate when people say that Gilgamesh is pathetic or weak or that he's nothing without his Gate of Babylon. And I'm not saying that he's the strongest servant in the series like there's a bunch of people that can beat him but he's definitely not weak. And it's the same thing I could've said that Saber is weak and pathetic without her Excalibur or something like that.

Because Gilgamesh's main problem that gets his ass beaten is that he's arrogant and doesn't take his opponent seriously. That's the thing that fucked him over so many times and not because he's weak or whatever.

[creativesplat]

That scene from A Tale of Two Stars, from Stan's perspective.

[kalinara]

Yeah, the hype did make it sound like something a lot more substantial than just whether they think Charles should be in prison for his crimes.

I mean, at least Schism had a coherent idea, even if I thought Logan was a raging hypocrite more interested in punishing his former friend than anything else. He thought that they needed to go back to the mansion/school setting and he set that up. And while there were times when the students had to defend themselves, he wasn't sending them on missions (at least from what I remember. I wasn't a regular reader of Wolverine and the X-Men.)

I'd kind of assumed we'd have more of a "we need to raze this place to the ground and show humans why they shouldn't imprison mutants" vs. "we need to get our people out but lay low and not antagonize a much more powerful force." That's a conflict that at least kind of makes sense to me. I THINK that maybe was what Hank was getting at when he told Scott that they'd beaten him up, but he still thinks Scott didn't have a choice - meaning, I assume, didn't have a choice about leaving vs. destroying the place and freeing everyone.

But that didn't really come across here like it should have. Rogue seems way too indifferent to Fred, Terry and Kyle. And she certainly isn't making any motion to save Sarah Gaunt. She doesn't even seem mildly regretful that she brought the woman back here. She seems to be ONLY mad about Charles. And that's fine, but an epic Xavier vs. Magneto ideological rift, it really isn't. I'm not really sure everyone on Rogue's team even agrees with her about Charles.

Maybe the idea was that Ellis would threaten Alaska/Louisiana, Scott believes her and thinks that even if they incapacitate her there, someone else likely has their hand on the button. Then they drag Rogue away. So her anger would be as much about being forced to leave and having to compromise her ethics rather than just finish things?

I could buy that, and it'd be an interesting touch - if Scott had had Kwannon or Quentin mind control her and force her out. Or if he'd had Illyana teleport her specifically. That would have been an interesting point of argument - she could even accuse his people the way Xavier uses his power to enforce what he wants.

But it didn't happen that way. Instead, we get a weirdly hypocritical Rogue, a Scott who does read somewhat OOC but with a little more plausible deniability (there are times when his strategic ability fails after all, and he's at least pretty consistent throughout the issue), and a rather befuddled reader.

I did like the Hank-and-Scott moments though and reminds me once again that I used to kind of ship them. <3

Uncanny X-Men #8 review - Raid on Graymalkin finale

Raid on Graymalkin has been a strange event in a lot of ways. It happened very early after an editorial and creative team change, it's only four issues spread over 2 books, and perhaps most of all, editorial both spoiled the ending and hyped up an ideological divide between Rogue and Cyclops. The big question is 'was the hype paid off?' Sadly, no - Uncanny #8 doesn't so much land the plane as crash it into a mountain. A plane crash can be a spectacle though, let's break it down. At the very least it looks great. This is a long one, so strap in.

We get to know Scurvy a little better.

X-Men #9 ended with both teams in Scurvy/ Philip's psychic thrall and Charles Xavier taking the stage after Kurt and Kwannon freed him. Uncanny #8 opens with his POV of his recent history, showing a 'Not All Mutants' mutant and how he ended up in an abusive relationship with a right wing podcast host. Well, it shows how they met, how his powers work, and how Warden Ellis has used him.

His powers aging him drastically explains why he's reluctant to go all out and perhaps how his powers helped an Infowars knock off to get this job. YMMV on whether this makes him sympathetic; it's certainly a 180 from the plain pathetic he has been portrayed as thus far. We spend a lot of time with him this issue, but it's all so vague I don't feel like we actually know all that much about him. He is portrayed as a victim, though he's also in the process of frying our heroes' brains and enslaving people. On the other hand, we get so little of his motivations and feelings that there's not much there. Villains/antagonists need to be developed to be interesting, and I'm not sure if Scurvy is a victim of Ellis' crusade or a self hating mutant who gave 'everything to a dream' for ... reasons. He's literally killing himself and it'd be good to know why.

Scurvy has been hyped as a Psychic on par with Xavier, something Xavier himself hasn't exactly confirmed but he has admitted Scurvy is an obstacle. They haven't met but Scurvy's been aware of Xavier, presumably because he's world famous and announced Krakoa to everyone on the planet. Scurvy suggests it's more than that - he and Charles are part of a group of five mutants called Avians, one of whom died - Harvey X. Chuck has had an oversized presence in Simone's Uncanny X-Men and another vague mystery about him takes up space that could be used to develop other characters - The Outliers, Jubilee, Nightcrawler. This 'Avian' business feels like The Twelve and other similar half baked plots, and how can Charles have a tumour if he's in a relatively new body? He died last in Inferno AFAIK, but more than that it feels unnecessary. I'm not invested in believing or disbelieving it, though Chuck dying might make X-Manhunt more interesting.

Chuck isn't showing up again until March, and Scurvy ages 10 years during this issue. Why are we spending all this time on these people that aren't main characters? Does Xavier really need to be part of some special unexplained group? He's been a very special and prominent part of the X-Men since 1963 - new old girlfriends and vague hints of specialness feel like mystery box overkill. Maybe Scurvy is lying as part of their psychic battle. Laws of narrative economy suggest otherwise, but either way - what's the point? Also, Avians? Are they birds? Maybe it's a Shi'Ar thing but right now it sounds ridiculous. Avians 🙄

Juggernaut knocks Rogue out of Scurvy's control and she thinks she has time to do the same to one other person. She apologises to Gambit for not choosing him and picks Cyke as the tactical choice, nearly knocking his head off. He snaps out of it too and shit gets bizarre.

For some reason Scott chooses this moment to berate Rogue for 'bringing kids into a war zone' which is a super valid point but I find it difficult to believe he'd bring it up while they're on the back foot and threats are everywhere. Rogue's answer is even more puzzling. I can believe she'd make an appeal to emotion but it's not a real answer. 'At least we don't have Magneto on our team' is not a rebuttal to nearly getting children killed, but it also does not make sense.

Magneto has been reformed for YEARS at this point and was a driving force behind Krakoa. She's saying like he's some irredeemable villain when he's the most heroic he's ever been. He and Rogue had zero interaction on Krakoa, where he was considered a national hero and famously was very tight with her hero Xavier. If she has an issue with the sins that came to light after Inferno, then she wouldn't be so charitable to Chuck, either. Maybe it's Scurvy's influence, but if so then what's the point? This isn't ideology, it's dodging the question at worst or petty bickering at best. Has Rogue forgotten her extensive history with Magneto, or her own start as a villain? What about her husband's involvement in the Mutant Massacre or her parents' unrepentant villainy? When considered in the context of Simone saying that Rogue and Cyclops would occupy the Xavier/Magneto relationship it looks like a missed shot. You'd have to ignore decades of history to make it work. Sigh, this was an unforced error and it really bums me out.

'I'm never going to be you and you're never going to be Professor X' is flat out weird. Cyclops answer of 'good' is consistent with his argument last issue, but it makes it look like they're not having the same conversation. Finally they realise they're in a war zone and only now does Rogue defer to Cyclops. Oookayyy. They say 'Magik and Wolverine' together in a moment that's both cheesy as hell and should underline their commonalities. I'm almost feel bad ragging on this, but it's not executed well. At least Rogue is consistently characterised as a cowboy. That's something.

Magik and Wolverine start freeing people then stop to agree not to kill each other. Deathdream says weird stuff, as usual, and the two make up. Jitter has her second instance of love heart emoji'ing a woman, which is cute but still deniable as actual WLW representation. I hope Simone cashes this cheque.

Queerness should be something that's not notable in a perfect world, just a part of the character. We don't live in a perfect world though, and we don't know a lot about Jitter. We know her powers, that she's Malay Singaporean, that she has a stutter, and that she possibly likes women. It's not enough for issue #8 of the flagship series. The choice was made to heavily focus on Xavier and Sarah Gaunt, and a casualty of that was getting to know main characters. It wouldn't be such a big deal if the payoff was worth it, but what did we actually learn? Instead of giving readers a break from Charles Xavier, he's been a regular presence. His appearance in this event could have been more impactful but I feel like we never had a chance to miss him.

Kwannon and Kurt reveal that Scurvy made them fight, which Rogue is aware of, and she adds that 'we're broken.' I'm not sure what that's supposed to mean, but this undermines the stakes of the ideological conflict. Is it manufactured or isn't it? None of them consider attacking Scurvy while he's fighting Xavier, either. Nobody is acting like they're in danger. It feels unserious, like the characters are just waiting for things to happen to them.

At this point I don't really care who Inmate X is. Uncanny X-Men has been dropping these mystery boxes that readers can only guess at, and like with Harvey X being the one pulling strings, it comes out of nowhere. It's another Avian, which means nothing to us beyond a vague implication of specialness. We know that Ellis considers it a bad thing if he get out of his cell, but that doesn't narrow it down aside from it being a he.

Aw, cripes - popular gen Z saying

Interestingly, Xavier's astral form is that of his Cerebro-helmeted onesie twink. It could reveal that he hasn't changed at all in how he sees himself and his role as shepherd of mutantkind. It's very different from his classic astral battle appearance, and I love it thematically and visually. Scurvy and Chuck as astral giants towering over the schoolprison is striking, though the casualness of their dialogue mutes it somewhat.

Not sure how Ezra or Ellis can tell Scurvy is losing a battle on the astral plane, but she does what she should have done before this and gets a gun. Calico is overjoyed that the Outliers (except Jitter) came for her, but what could be a heartwarming moment is undercut by their dulled expressions. I can buy Deathdream doing this, but Ransom has been emotionally aware prior to this. We have zero details, but aren't these kids tight after months of being on the run together?

It's finally time to stop standing around, as Ellis and guards are here with guns. The X-Men, having already beat up plenty of these dudes, aren't impressed. They stand together (no idea where Chuck and Scurvy got to) and Cyke urges her to stand down, pointing out that they're not as nice as the Avengers. Rogue agrees in the shittiest way possible, thinking 'sometimes visor boy says jus the right thing.' Weird ableist stance from Rogue, but all it does is highlight how shallow their conflict is and remind us that Gail Simone doesn't like Cyclops.

Ellis doesn't blink, telling them her 'brother died because of trash like you.' We knew this already, and I'm wondering if there's anything else to her. She's established as a threat but she's not especially interesting. She helped with Sarah Gaunt out of empathy (?) but here she is flinging the same old slurs. I'm not sure if her dark skin is meant to be noteworthy or say anything. So far it hasn't been a part of her character in any way other than visual, no commentary on how someone who has experienced minority oppression becomes so hell-bent on dealing it out herself. How does a person become willing to enslave and torture, and even (as we'll see) destroy two towns with thousands of humans in them? Her brother died, sure, but that's thin characterisation for a multi-arc villain.

Chuck wallops Scurvy with an uppercut!

Ellis brings out The Trustees again (who the X-Men easily defeated) to have Blob recite 'the pledge.' Very messed up but it shouldn't exactly convince the X-Men to do anything other than smash this place to pieces. She threatens to let Sarah Gaunt loose from her comically large chains that shouldn't stop her for a second.

Cyclops points out that with Scurvy's defeat Ellis' big gun is down. She laughs at that, and for some reason Chuck doesn't immediately take over her brain. Her big gun is more literal - a fucking network of sonic cannon satellites. Who TF gave this lady a Death Star? She has Merle and Haven targeted but Rogue thinks she's bluffing. Logically, you'd think so. Would the US government really accept this maniac destroying towns with a space laser? Not sure how they'd spin that. Also, neither team have any leverage to stop her using it whenever she wants. I feel like she's forcing them to kill her right here and now, lest their strategic position becomes 'able to be killed at any time without effort.' They could even just send her on permanent vacation to Limbo, see how her bullshit flies with Maddie Pryor.

Ellis lets them take the people they came for (why?) but that's not enough for Rogue. Siryn speaks to Rogue personally while crying, indicating she's herself, as much as she can be with all the torture, mind control, and who knows what else? It's only when Xavier intercedes that Rogue listens.

Charles explains why he needs to be in prison (though we know he'll change his mind and escape in March) and they have an emotional exchange. It works, I guess, but Rogue looks super selfish and ignorant. Free Charles for personal reasons when he doesn't want it at the cost of two towns? Doesn't seem like much of a choice (other than knocking Ellis out while she's in your face.) It feels a bit regressive for Rogue, too. She is aware of everything from Fall of X (including Chuck manipulating one of her mothers and trying to permanently kill the other) and hadn't really had or needed a mentor in a long time. Sure, everyone is lost after Krakoa, but WTF is she so attached to Xavier? It's great that he was the first to believe in her but this feels almost infantilising. Rogue is better than this.

Scott has Magik open a big portal before 'she' can stop you. I assume 'she' refers to Rogue, except Rogue is shown willingly walking through it with everyone else. Ellis wasn't interested in stopping them. It's like everyone has the script and realises the event is over so it's time to go. I have difficulty believing any of these characters would just meekly leave, not because of Xavier, but the multiple sonic space cannons that can kill them anytime plus their enslaved comrades. There's eight regular ass humans with guns in the way and this is their shot to do anything about it. How many of these X-Men could take them all out by themselves? Cyke could optic blast them unconscious, Magik has multiple methods, and many of the others could just punch them while ignoring bullets.

Yo, where's Quentin? He arrived with you guys.

Once Rogue has walked through the portal (clearly willingly and without duress) she objects again - 'no. We can't leave him there!' Cyke echoes Charles' own words and promises to get the others out, but Rogue punches him maybe ten feet and not only repudiates Scott's promises (?) but places the blame entirely on him. He blasts her and tells her to grow up (kinda fair) but then their teammates hold them back. Beast tells Scott he won, but this looks like a narrative trick to pretend Cyclops wanted to fight or has any reason to.

Rogue turns to leave with mild venom and her team follows. Hank assures Scott that he had no choice and Scott disagrees but doesn't elaborate. I hate to see X-Men fight but it's even worse when it's over nothing. The post-portal events feel like Simone going 'hmm, didn't really sell that ideological divide or their falling out, fuck it, just have Rogue punch Cyclops.' I think Cyclops was mostly right here, but it's more than Rogue was wrong and the conflict was contrived. I just don't buy the degree of animosity Rogue has and all the reasons given feel out of character. If that's who Rogue is right now I can accept it, but it's not very heroic and she's had multiple egregious failures of leadership. If this is identified as a character flaw that needs working on or a mistake that she regrets it could make for interesting storytelling, but all the information we have suggests that's not the case. Uncanny is frankly a trainwreck, but at least it looks fantastic. The letters page and other media suggests a lot of people are enjoying this book, and I couldn't be happier for them. I just wish I was too. I'll keep reviewing it of course, and I'll be less harsh than this review was. It was hyped and it called shots and didn't deliver. Doing that sets expectations and gives me another metric to judge it by. Hopefully we can get on with learning about the characters who've been neglected.

As for Raid on Graymalkin as an event, it had its ups and downs. Most of the ups were in X-Men and most of the downs were in Uncanny. Ultimately it didn't fulfill the promise it made so I judge it as a failure. We didn't learn a great deal and it boiled down to a cynical excuse for X-Men to punch each other. The mysteries it introduced feel dull to me and I am not especially interested in the Avians or Inmate X. The solicits for X-Manhunt spoiled that Xavier wasn't going anywhere, which left us with forced conflict. I'm far more interested in the aftermath of the event, especially the Alaska team dealing with a visit from the O*N*E. They don't really need much reason to fuck with the X-Men so I'm not crediting the event with that.

Thanks for reading!

[turtlemagnum]

god, i suck at mario 2. i'm disparaging my legacy.... seriously, how the fuck have i beaten the lost levels without save states but can't get past 1-3 in american mario 2???? why am i not instantly good at a game i've never really played, god!!!! my mother would be disappointed in me

post writing the tags turtle here: i started rambling about my childhood made the tags longer than the actual post and don't feel like putting them onto the actual post because that'd be too much work and i'm feeling lazy. read em if you want personal bullshit! or don't. i'm not care

[rafesfawn]

🪽🧺 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐎𝐋

𝜗ৎ⋆｡˚ when rafe sees a precious little doll on the side of the road with a broke-down car, how can he resist out of the kindness of his heart offering her a ride? just a ride home, that's all...

or how trailerpark!angel!reader and rafe met!

warnings: use of the nickname pet & little one, reader! is eighteen-nineteen! bit of perv!rafe, barely proofread!

a/n: first time writing a rafe fic/blurb! im so excited, also this is based on this ask and thank you so much for sending something I really appreciated it and I hope u like it mwah! I would say you two meet in like early season 2 (right before the cross storyline) also for the format slight ib to others on here esp @rafesangelita (sorry for the tag!)

this was based off of this ask! which tysm i literally love requests and rafe and trailerpark!angel!reader is my new obsession <3

a small, meaningless kick was made to the tire while you huffed and groaned, putting two hands over your frustrated features as all you wanted to curl up into a ball and cry.

“piece of shit,” you mumbled under your breath, kicking the tire once more, but immediately a whimper fell from your lips. the pain shot from your toe up to your spine. making you sniffle and tip-toe in pain. in your denim ruffle skirt, white socks, and pink converse, you sat down on the asphalt, on the side of the road, leaning against the side of your broken-down car.

she wasn’t the best car, but she surely got you around most of the time. most of the time. it was a little volkswagen beetle, light pink in color, covered in so many stickers some wondered if it was passing inspection. it wasn't.

sitting with your head against the car for what felt like hours (it was maybe ten minutes), but spending even that on the side of a main road in kildare island was torture. especially with the beating sun late august provided.

rafe was speeding down the road on the way to play golf and get drunk with topper and kelce. “ah shit, i don’t know, man.” he said into his phone, holding it up with one hand; his voice gruff and confident, topper on the other line. “you really think i won’t kick your ass today huh?” a smirk grew on his already smug expression.

letting out a short chuckle at toppers response, nothing anybody ever said meant more than a laugh to him. or that's what it used to be like anyway, his act wasn't together if anything, it was worse than it'd ever been. his father condemning him to disingenuous "discipline" to forget about the possible death of his golden daughter.

"the fuck?" he mutters into the mic, his voice laced with confusion. as he sees up ahead on the road, a pink car broken down, with the most precious thing sitting against it. a pout on the angels soft lips and the most defeated look in her eye. aw, you just fell right into my lap, didn't you? little angel.

your eyes glued on the pavement, your entertainment of watching a little ladybug try to make it to safety in the distance, was shortly interrupted.

a nice black truck coming into view it came to such a short stop it almost took your breath away, the breaks slightly screeching at the haste. a tire replaced the spot the ladybug once was.

you stood brushing the dirt and gravel off the backsides of your pale thighs, left bare by the short fabric of your skirt.

the man stepped out of the truck. he was tall, and the sleeves of his polo looked like they were about to burst at the seams, not able to contain the biceps beneath. his features strong and statue-like, his deep sea eyes hidden behind the curtain bangs that hung over his forehead. a grin that seemed too genuine, too good to be true.

you removed your heart-shaped sunglasses, placing them on top of your head to see him more clearly. your possible savior, but he was anything but.

he stepped a bit closer, seeing the state of her already pretty beaten car, "having some car trouble?" rafe asked as if he wasn't stating the obvious.

you pretended he wasn't either as you nodded, the frown only slight now but still on your lips as your eyes remained looking up into his.

"aw.. poor thing we can't have that, what happened?" his voice, a mockery of sympathy. as he inspected the piece of shit car she loved so much. his care coming from a place of ownership, of burning ache or want.

still, in slight shock, you hadn't answered him, following behind him as he reopened the hood like he owned the car. not even realizing you'd been rude and not replied till he spoke again. "little one, i can't fix it if you don't tell me what's wrong." a heady mix of gentle and firm that made your mouth go dry and your head dizzy.

"oh- it's been on her last limb for like ever, i guess she finally called it quits... right on my way home." you said with a little sad laugh that rafe wanted to bottle the sound of and listen to on repeat. "and I really need to get home," you added fiddling with your fingers in front of you.

a sweet girl all out of options, rafe was so glad he was here to provide her with his help. "tell you what, I'll take you home and come back and fix this thing up for you, huh?" he offered, there goes his saturday plans he presumed. it'd be worth it. he told himself he'd make it worth it, with those shy eyes and the expression you carried like a lost puppy. you'd owe him he'd make sure to get something in return.

just like he figured, you shook your head. never wanting to accept such a grand favor. "I can't ask you to do that, I mean, I don't even know your name." nerves, curiosity, and a glint of something else tinged in your voice, so many wonders in that head as soon as his truck came to a stop for you. why? the only question running through your mind.

"It's rafe, can I help you out now?" his genuine grin turned almost smug at his own remark, brushing that bangs out his face, the effort pointless as they immediately fell back again.

you paused. picking at the already chipped white nail polish on your sore fingertips, a larger-rougher hand covered your own, stopping your movements with that firm gentleness he carried around her. you looked up at him, he was so much closer. the scent of some cologne that probably could pay your rent, and a tinge of smokey wood filled your senses.

"pet?" he questioned with an expecting tilt of his head, calling you that like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your body and mouth responding before giving another second for your brain or anxiety to think it over, you nodded. "can you please give me a ride home?" you hesitantly asked, it felt weird. getting help, and even asking for it felt foreign, he offered it so graciously like it was nothing.

looking down upon her, his grin turned genuine once again, his eyes seemed almost proud it was a soothing balm to her nervous heart. a rosy hue to her cheeks as his palm covered the side of her neck, making a few pats to the flesh before leading her to his truck.

you'd owe him. something he was sure you were ready for.

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[artisanscribbles]

#ffxiv#hades being horrified and disbelieving of everything we tell him emet-selch will do isn't redemption#it's a tragedy#here is a decent man who does not wish to believe that anyone would stoop so low#except you know that he will and he will not regret a moment of it even in death#even in death he believes himself justified#because he loved his world#he isn't redeemed - he isn't really even forgiven#and he doesn't want to be#emet-selch doesn't need to be redeemed after all - he's doing what he believes must be right

Don;t hide this in the Tags

"emet-selch had a point" girl the ancients' clothes are called sophist's robes...

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt. 3

Finally getting a tiny bit of Bruce's monologue!! And uh oh, looks like you've gotta clock in!

As the car began to move, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of panic. The tension in the air was palpable, and you could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on you. You tried your best to focus on anything but the Waynes, your mind desperately attempting to process what just happened in the parking lot. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, staring out the window as the city lights blurred past. It was then that Damian decided to break the awkward silence.

“Father, what is the meaning of bringing her along with us?” Damian spoke curtly, disdain marring his voice when mentioning you.

As much as you disliked him as well, he had a point. Why the hell are you sitting here with them?

Bruce glanced at Damian. Truth be told, he didn't quite know why. While you were his child, one out of the only two biological children he had, he had never really had the time or care to acknowledge you. You coming into his life abruptly disturbed everything, so he paid you no mind. He’ll admit, it wasn't fair of him to do so, but he had bigger things to worry about. He was tired, and a child that wasn't involved with his night business, who did not understand what his life of vigilantism took out of him, would never understand the sacrifices that he's had to make. It wasn't until seeing you on the football field, happy, talking to your friends and acting in a way he'd never seen you do, he'd begun to realize what he missed. 

When did you get so tall? He could have sworn you were no taller than his waist. And when did you join the cheerleading team? And who was that girl throwing her arm around you? Who was that boy? Gods, just how much has he missed? 

But he couldn't say all of that. So instead he just replied, “She's a part of this family, Damian and she needed a ride back home.”

He could feel Cassandra’s knowing stare, she could read him better than anybody and she knew the inner turmoil brewing in his heart. That's coupled with Stephanie’s smirk and Dick’s predatory grin. Jason grunted in response, clearly not pleased with the arrangement. Lastly, he could see the disbelief on your face, as if you couldn't believe you'd even be considered part of this family. And he’s mostly to blame. 

He internally sighed. He'd have to work on that. You were his daughter. His. It was his job to keep you safe and happy. It was his job to make sure you felt loved. And right now? He was no better than Jannet and Jack Drake leaving poor Tim to fend for himself. But that would all soon change, starting with himself and his children.

You on the other hand were still reeling from Bruce’s words. “Family”? Is he fucking kidding or what?

Dick, always the one to break the tension with his charm, spoke up next. "Hey, (Y/n), when did you become a cheerleader? I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff." Dick said with that condescending tone.

Your eyes twitched. You did not like his tone.

“That's none of your business Dick.” You shot back before you could even think.

Everyone looked your way. Whoops, that was your bad. 

It was Jasons turn to get upset, “Watch your fucking mouth.” He growled, ever possessive over his older brother.

You immediately froze up, offering a quick and quiet apology before retreating into your own head. Jason–Jason scared you more than any of the others. You knew about his pit rage, you knew about the bloody and beaten bodies he's left in the wake of his rage. You knew he’d never dream of hurting his family, the pit often aiding in his possessive tendencies over the rest of the bats but– you weren't family. And you'd hate to be on the receiving end of Jason’s wrath.

If anyone had continued talking to you, you wouldn’t know. The sound around you was muffled like your head was filled with cotton and you could feel yourself shaking. You wanted out. Now. Thankfully, the rest of the ride was mostly quiet. Sure, everyone would occasionally turn their eyes towards you, making you shrink further in on yourself, but you were almost at the manor. The vehicle barely came to a stop before you were throwing yourself out the door and into the manor. You bid Alfred a quick “goodbye” and “thank you” before bolting up the stairs and into your room. 

You locked the door, not that anyone would bother coming up to your room, but still it gave you security nonetheless. You stripped and hopped into the shower, the soreness in your body now making itself known. God it was gonna suck tomorrow. Why? Because it was Friday today, that meant tomorrow would be Saturday, and that meant that you'd have to go to work at the ass crack of dawn, 5 am. Plus, you didn't even have your bike, so you’d have to rely on Alfred to take you and bring you back. Great.

So with a heavy heart and heavy limbs, you tucked yourself into bed ready for the worst sleep of your life. 

You wake up to the grating sound of your iphone alarm, as you groggily get up to brush your teeth, shower and get ready for the long day ahead. Making your way down for a cup of coffee, sleep still in your eyes, you fail to notice the looming figure of Tim Drake already sipping his own coffee. It was dark downstairs and you were still fighting off exhaustion from the day before, so who could blame you for not seeing the corner of the cabinet. Before you knew it, you were hunched over on the floor grabbing your pinkie toe in pain. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, that hurt! Holy shit, kill yourself, kill yourself! Who the fuck puts a cabinet there, oh my god.” You wailed in pain, cursing at the damn cabinet. You’d blame it on delirium and exhaustion. Honestly, it was an expected crashout.

You laid pathetically on the floor for a couple of more seconds before you heard a monotone, disinterested voice make itself known.

“Are you done now?” Tim says from behind you.

You yelp in surprise, before clumsily scrambling up and turning around. And there he was, sitting at the counter, coffee in hand and an almost (dare you say) amused look on his face. You blanche. Shit, how long has he been sitting there? Oh god, please don't say he’s witnessed the entirety of your embarrassing crashout? 

And as if reading your mind, he cryptically answers, “Yes, I've been here this entire time.” All while sipping his coffee as his calculating eyes scarily bore into your figure.

You don't know what to say, embarrassed out of your mind, so you just apologize. 

“Right–um, sorry about that. I’m just tryna get some coffee. I'll be out your way.” You hastily say before turning, tail tucked back towards the coffee pot. 

You could still feel the weight of Tim’s stare on you but you're too tired and embarrassed to care. You pour yourself a big cup of straight up black coffee and proceed to chug it while walking towards the sink. After finishing it, you proceeded to gag for a few seconds, the bitter taste still permeating your mouth. God you hated the taste of black coffee, but you’d do whatever it takes to not fall asleep on the job. You discard your cup into the sink before you decide to find Alfred, it was 4:37 am and you needed to clock in by 5:00 am or else your ass was grass. You conveniently ignore Tim who has watched all of your misfortune happen this morning. He doesn't say anything when you leave the dining/kitchen area, just eerily watches. 

God, he made you nervous.

Anyways, your quest to find Alfred was short lived as he seemingly appeared out of nowhere, Damian in tow (you could feel the scar on your face burning). Great, was everyone up at this ungodly hour or was it just them two? You avoided the heat of Damian’s glare as you relayed to Alfred your predicament, apologizing profusely since you did ask him last minute. He simply smiled at you, letting you know that “it is never a hindrance when you need something Master (Y/n).” You smiled back in relief, thanking him once more as Alfred got ready to drop you off.

But of course, Damian just had to break the silence. 

“What could you possibly need to do at this hour? Alfred has better things to do other than encouraging your galavanting.” Damian spoke sharply.

You just sighed, “Not that it's any of your business, but I have work.”You don't offer any more information as your hand unknowingly caresses the scarred tissue on your face. 

Damian’s eyes draw to your face at the movement, seemingly fixated on the scar he left on you. He doesn’t think much of it, but sometimes, something green and dangerous purrs inside of him. Yes, his mark. It was his mark on your face. As much as he hated you, you were his only other blood-sibling no matter how weak and useless you were. He had bested you, and usually would pay you no mind, you knew your place and would typically remain docile. But recently you’ve been showing a new abrasive side, one he is not particularly fond of.

He’d have to talk to father about it.

Silence permeates the air as he doesnt bother to dignify your disrespect with a response. You’re saved when Alfred comes back with keys, both you and him rushing to whatever vehicle he's pulled out from the large, large selection of coveted cars Bruce owns. Looks like it's a BMW today. You practically throw yourself in, as Alfred speeds away to the cafe you work at. You arrive at work in record speed, bidding Alfred a “goodbye” before rushing to throw your apron on and clock in. 

You’re greeted by the one other person working your shift, Matheo. He’s a sweet boy, very soft-spoken and mostly sticks in the back near the kitchen to bake the pastries while you work the register. Of course he comes and helps with drink orders when it's particularly busy, he’s too kind to leave you to fend for yourself. Regardless, you have a pretty straight forward agreement, which is what spells your doom. It was a regular Saturday shift, with the pilate moms coming in, middle schoolers loitering, and the occasional customer with an attitude. Everything was fine and dandy till three familiar faces walk in.

You were ever the busy body, finishing one last drink before yelling out a quick “I’ll help y’all shortly!”, to whoever just walked in. You quickly rush over to the register, not even bothering to look up from the register.

“Sorry ‘bout the wait! Now what can I get you?” You said in your regular customer service voice.

“Well, well, well, turns out you were right Dami, she does work here.” A chillingly familiar voice jests.

You freeze, slowly looking up only to be met with Dick smiling at you. It was not a kind smile, no, there was something dangerous about it. Behind him, you could see the familiar figures of Cassandra and Damian. What the hell are they doing here? God, you should have never mentioned anything to Damian, now you had to deal with this.

“R–right, what can I get you?” You shakily say, putting back on your customer service persona. 

Dick’s smile grows, his teeth now visible, almost as if he was baring his teeth. Danger. Something inside you screamed.

“I’ll just have a vanilla cold brew, extra cold foam. Dami, Cass, what do you want?” Dick grinns.

“Tch, I don't want anything from this place.” Damian says, uninterested.

“Cass?” Dick asks, looking at her.

She comes up to the register, giving Dick a one-off-glance. Worryingly, her eyes seem to be fixated on you. She doesn't say anything for a few seconds, holding immensely uncomfortable eye contact with you before relaying her order.

“Just a caramel latte.” Cass says, still looking down at you.

You frantically fill in their orders on the register.

“Will that be all?” You ask. You hoped that was all, you didn't want them spending another minute talking to you.

Dick says a quick cheerful “no” before you ring them up and get started with the two drinks. It doesn't take too much time before you’re calling out their names to come get their drinks. You hope they leave right after. But of course, nothing goes according to your wishes as they grab their drinks and seat themselves at a table. Great.

The minutes after result in further disaster. After a couple of more customers, a lady comes up to you, face already molded into a scowl with a half empty drink in her hand. Oh great, a “karen”.

“Hello ma’am, how can I help you?” You kindly say.

“You! I need a refund. Right. Now!” The lady booms, wagging her finger in your face.

“A refund, right, is there a reason you’re requesting a refund?” 

“A reason!? You made my drink wrong and I want my money back!”

“Please correct me if i'm wrong, but I believe you ordered a double mocha cappuccino, correct?” You ask slowly.

“Yes, that's what I ordered! Why are you asking me all these questions?!”

“Sorry ma’am, but that is the drink I gave you. Is there something specifically wrong with the drink?”

“The drink that you gave me is wrong, you made it wrong! It doesn't taste anything like regular coffee!”

“Oh, well sometimes different cafes use different recipes for the same drink, i think maybe that's why–”

“–Well I don't care! I want a refund!”

You could feel eyes on you as the other patrons start to notice the commotion brewing.

“Ma’am, i'm so sorry but i can't give you a refund, you’ve already drank half the drink. If you would have let me know sooner, I could've remade it for you, but–I'm sorry ma’am I can't give you that refund.”

“Are you serious! Why I never!? It's always bitches like you who try scamming people out of their money!”

“Ma'am, I'm really sorry, it's the company policy. I just work here–” You gently say, trying to calm her down.

“–Go to hell you bitch!” Is all you hear before you’re doused in the face with warm coffee. 

You just stand there is shock, blinking through the coffee. There's no way that just happened. Theo, comes out having heard the commotion (albeit a little too late), only to be met with the sight of you covered in coffee.

“Oh my gosh (Y/n)! I should have come sooner, are you okay?”

“Peachy.” You say, voice audibly watery and cracking.

“I'll take care of everything up here, you go take some time in the back. Clean up or honestly if you don't feel like it, just rest in the back–”

“–It's okay Theo, I–I just need a couple of minutes. I'm fine.”

He gives you a quizzical stare.

“I'm fine. I promise.” You smile, although you could feel your eyes starting to water. 

You hastily walk off to the break room and proceed to cry for a good 2 minutes before deciding to start cleaning yourself up. You do your best to get the coffee that's dried into hair out while wiping down your now sicky arms and face. Changing your apron gets rid of most of the mess, but your shirt underneath still has a couple of large patches of coffee. Sighing, you tidy yourself up as much as possible before heading back to the counter, Theo worriedly waiting for you. You just shoot him a thumbs up and let him know that it’s okay for him to retreat back to the kitchen; he lingers for a moment, hesitant to leave you alone, but drudges back regardless.

There are eyes on you. You look up perturbed, only to find Dick, Cass, and Damian still sitting at their table, sharp stares pinned on your figure. They saw all that happen, didn't they? You mentally cringed. 

Checking your watch, you realize that there are still four more hours left on your shift. Great, that's great–just another four more hours, which is technically thirty minutes eight times, which is technically fifteen minutes sixteen times–and you’ve lost it. Jesus you were losing your mind, which was understandable (honestly you're surprised it hasn't happened sooner) during one of the worst shifts of your life.

It’s fine. You got this. Just four more hours, and you can have your “Mental Breakdown Part Ⅱ™”.

Tag-list!!:

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[grimdarling69]

Another deaged Ellie and Dan, but Danny was reincarnated as Damian Wayne

Danny Damian because he was Damian now, wasn't he? He remembers now the Fentons, the GIW, Sam and Tucker, jazz. He wonders if they could have also followed him here. A part of him longs to see his fraid again, but are they his fraid still? He was a new person. Son of The Bat and Heir to the Demon Head. Something Dami he remembers reminding people of. If only Sam could see him now, he knows she'd love that. "Who's edgy now?" He can picture her saying. He can almost see Tucker laughing so hard he'd fall out of his seat.

Crack

The sharp sound of the thunder brings him to the present. He looked over at his clock, 3:00 A.M. The witching hour he can hear Ellie tell him with a mischievous smile on one of their flights around Amity Park. She loved to drag him and Dan sometimes Vlad if he was feeling friendly. Dan, his future evil self tormented by the deaths of all his family and friends, so hurt he got Vlad to rip his human half out so he didn't have to feel the pain. Ellie, his clone, created by Vlad to be the perfect son, too bad she was a daughter. Looking down at his stomach where their cores are now incubating, he couldn't help but wonder if Vlad had anything to do with this.

He shook his head as if that would rid himself of that thought. Vlad was a real fruitloop,but he would never purposefully endanger Dan or Ellie. Vlad, in his twisted and weird ways, did love them in his own ways like kidnapping and keeping him hostage to save Ellie. He had forgiven vlad for the desperate attempt to save his daughter, but incubating Ellie and Dan's cores would make him their father now, too. Ew, coparenting with Vlad does not sound like a fun time. He glanced down and lifted his shirt hesitantly. If he focused on his stomach, he could see a faint blue and red glow emanating from his stomach. Red, Vlads' color, he thought distantly. Hopefully, it didn't mean much. As if signaling him, the envelope they had carried with them to him fell off the bed carried to the floor by the slight breeze.

Lighting lumineating the bedroom, making the crisp white color shine for just a second. He tentatively reached down to grab it. He was being a baby. He was a trained assassin from birth, and his fear trained beaten out of him a long time ago. Some part of him whispered his father and Richard's teachings of being brave but not without fear.

He paused. Father would want to know everything. His past life, Ellie and Dan, the ghosts, being a halfa. He wouldn't understand, Richard would try to, but not even he could never really understand. He couldn't subject his babies to that. He couldn't live with the threat to being ripped apart molecule by molecule. His father's lack of emotional intelligence certainly would not help young halfas. He was fourteen again the age he was killed in his first life. The age he started facing ghosts from another dimension.

He started younger in this life. Killing younger, he learned to fight his whole life. Jazz would hate that. Jazz... he wondered if she was alright if she survived the attack... no, there's no time to think of that right now. He ripped open the envelope( like a band-aid, Richard would remind him), and he noticed Vlad's familiar fancy fruitloop writing immediately(he had fancy fruitloop writing now, instead of the chicken scratch Jazz chided him over). So he was right about one thing this had vlad all over it.

Dear Daniel,

Though I understand you might not be Daniel when this letter finds you. I have been reincarnated into another life as I believe you have as well. My new name is Alexander Luther. I own a corporation called Lexcorp. I unfortunately can not change the name according to my board. The idiot lot of them.

He snickered at that. His smile dropped immediately. Vlad was Lex Luthor, the archnemesis of Superman. Jon would most certainly not like this. He forced himself to read on before he spiraled further.

I regained my memories after an experiment went wrong. I know how original. My new incarnation was able to open a small portal that grew in size, and eventually, somehow Danielle and Dan fell through. The portal then exploded, and I regained my memories. Unfortunately, it destabilized their clone bodies. I couldn't grow working bodies in time, and eventually, I had to hope they could find you. I hoped somehow that the yeti doctor would have imparted some of his strange knowledge onto you that might save them.

Vlad, no Lex still wrong. Vlad was somewhat right about that. During one of his all things ghostly lessons from Frostbite, he told him of how in the old ages ghosts often incubated their ghostlings. A protective measure back when magic and spirits were more prevalent. He didn't really understand it back then, and he doesn't understand it much now, either. Apart from the fact he was doing it, he supposed. What if he did something wrong and he lost them? He doesn't think he could live out his half-life if he lost them again. He needed to get to Vlad, and quickly too so they could start building a new portal to the infinite realms.

If this letter finds you. Come find me immediately at these coordinates. I've gone deep underground to escape my new archnimesis's suoer senses. I've m started research on a new portal, but I'll need your endeneering skills. This world is severely lacking in ectoplasmic science and engineering. I am once again forced to start from scratch on my own. Once we get the portal open, you'll need to go straight to The Far Frozen.

It's as if he's reading my mind, I think jokingly.

P.s. One of my experiments may or not have regiven then my new DNA in an attempt to restabilize them.

Only Vlad.

Well, it looks like they actually were going to be coparenting after all. This was going to go great.

I sigh and lean my head back down on my pillow. He committed the cords to memory before lighting the letter on fire with the lighter he kept in his bedside drawer. Point to assassin training. Jason would be proud. He supposed he could stay for a month or so before leaving, which would give him enough time to get away or think of some kind of mission to give himself. He shoots up. Todd had died and came back. He was a revenant. He couldn't stick around if he were to visit he'd know something was wrong immediately even if he didn't understand it.

He sprung out of bed quickly, but quietly, his foot steps perfectly silent despite his rushed mood of packing a bag. He packed a few pairs of clothes and lots of hidden weapons, some snacks he kept hidden for that should keep him fed on his journey but leaving any sentimental things behind. He glanced longingly at his sketch pad, but Vlad was most likely under the water judging by the coordinates he was given. Who knows if it would survive.

He checked the pack, making sure he got all he needed. He promptly checked it again. Twice. After deeming it sufficient, he willed himself to open the door. He mentally cataloged everyone in the manor. Pennyworth was most likely still in Father's room, making sure he actually listened to his insructions. Richard and Todd in Bludhaven and Crime Alley, respectfully. Cain and Brown in Hong Kong. Thomas was sleeping after his dayshift.

Everyone accounted for except Drake. He was most likely using Pennyworth's attention on Father to work cases. He just had to take the risk. For his ghostlings, for himself, Vlad. He crept down the hallways. He was opening the grandfather clock in record time. He went slower this time. He would use his powers, but his father had supernatural wards of all kinds in the cave. Who knows what they did. He was also admittedly trying to save his little energy for his voyage on the open sea. Light snoring hit his ears as he peered around the corner.

Thank ancients.

Drake was sleeping at the batcomputer, still in his Red Robin suit sans mask surrounded by his poor choices. Empty coffee cups and files spread around. He would still need to be quiet, Drake was a light sleeper, as was everyone else in his family. He grabbed the keys to his bike quickly, sneaking by. If he wasn't ditching his bike at Gotham Bridge, he would have disabled his trackers. He checked the gas and made sure he could make it. That's when he made his first mistake.

Putting the gas jug back down, he accidently hit another of one of his siblings' tools to the floor. He tried catching it without success, but it fell anyway, the loud clang echoing. Mistake number two.

Shit.

"Huh? What's happening?" Drake arose sleepily rubbing his eyes.

He froze. Mistake number three.

"Damian? What are you doing down here?" His eyes landed on him, and he spoke confusedly with his voice heavy with sleep or lack thereof.

He panics. He's blaming the pregnancy hormones on this.

He runs.

"Damian!" Drake responded to his dead sprint with his own. "Stop!"

He reaches his bike, and he turns the keys and prays. Luckily, it comes to life. He fumbles with his helmet it would hide his tears he needed it. who knows if he'll ever get to see them again. He shoots off down the tunnel. Flicking the cave door open remotely.

Another bike rears to life behind him. "Damian wants going on?" Drakes voice echoes in his ears. He can almost taste the concern in it amplified by the helmet. He ignores it and accelerates. He ignores the returned acceleration behind him.

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

Tim has no clue what made Damian panic enough to run away. He quickly ran to his own bike while swearing. Damian is already gaining distance on him. After another attempt at getting Damian to calm down and talk, he calls the only person Damian would actually listen to.

He hopes Dick will forgive him for waking him at five o'clock in the morning on his day off.

[rambling-at-midnight]

Don't Go Disappearing On Me Again

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Jason's lost too much to lose you, too. (We stan healthy communication in this house)

Word count: 2.3k

Ow.

You've never worked Friday nights before at the restaurant, and you never want to again. And you'd thought Saturday mornings were bad.

But one of your favorite coworkers had called you in a panic early this morning, begging you to take her shift, because her lab group's department at GCU was going out to bowling and it would be a great networking opportunity. You were the last person she called, but everyone else before you had declined because they were either scheduled or determined to avoid the shitshow.

And because you were weak, you gave in and said you would cover her Friday night shift as long as she covered your Friday morning shift.

So you two swapped shifts, and you went into your library internship in the morning instead of the evening. It wasn't a particularly hard job, but end-of-week returns had you dashing all over the three floors, so your feet already hurt before you walked into the restaurant.

Right before coming in, you'd texted Jason that you'd gotten held up, and it was a good thing you did, because you haven't had a single break to look at your phone the whole shift. He likely wasn't even awake yet—last night's patrol had been tough on the both of you, him because he came home half beaten to death, and you because you'd had a heart attack waking up in the middle of the night to your bloody boyfriend passing out on top of you in bed. But you usually got home around six from the library, and it was looking like you wouldn't be back until ten at the earliest, so you wanted to let him know. It was going on hour seven after starting at two p.m., when the restaurant switched from its brunch to dinner menu. Personally, you think two p.m. is obscenely early to eat dinner, but apparently rich people loved eating at weird hours, because you had had nonstop tables the entire night.

But the good thing is that the restaurant closes at nine, so you’re almost there. After your last three tables eat and leave, all you have to do is clean your section, close your checks, and clock out.

In the kitchen, you lean against the fridge, rubbing your hips and knees. You’re a little too young to feel so creaky after seven hours on your feet. After all, Jason works all night, doing athletic feats you could never dream of.

You can't really complain, though. You'd gotten lucky with your tables; they'd all tipped well. Maybe you could even add a little bit to your savings account instead of shoving every paycheck right at your student loans, which just keep growing, no matter how much you pay.

“Oh, no,” says Charlotte, one of the other veteran servers at the restaurant. She’s staring at the camera feed display, which is tuned to a livestream of the restaurant’s entranceway. “Don’t you dare seat me now, Ashley, I swear to God.”

“What time is it?” your head jerks up. “We’re about to close, right? Is someone looking for a table?”

“Yeah,” she says, pointing to the screen. “The hottest man in the world just walked in our front door.”

You just hum, not bothering to look in favor of pulling out your phone. You know for a fact that the hottest man in the world is actually at home in your bed right now. “The kitchen’s stopped receiving tickets. No way Ashley seats someone right now.” The screen doesn't light up when you click the power button. Well, shit. It's dead.

“I can’t tell what he’s saying.” Charlotte squints at the screen. “He’s, like, huge. Does Ashley look a little scared to you?”

You’re out of the kitchen without even looking at the screen. You speedmarch right past your tables, ignoring one man’s halfhearted attempts to flag you down for more ketchup. A righteous fire is boiling in your gut. You’ve been here long enough that the managers won’t fire you for telling off any customers that harass the younger workers that are more scared to stand up for yourself.

Your mouth is already open, ready to spew forth the beginning of your tirade, when you recognize the man in front of Ashley at the host stand.

Dressed in gray sweats and a dark T-shirt, slouching slightly, he looks even worse than when you kissed his forehead goodbye that morning. The bruise on Jason's face has properly colored now, purple and blue along his jawline. His hair looks a little flat, like he's been wearing his helmet, which is strange.

Jason's eyes snap onto you the second you appear, and you falter at the intensity there. Something has happened, but you're not sure what.

"Hey," you say, a little hesitant. "What's up?"

Ashley exhales with relief. "So you do know him."

"Yeah," you say without breaking eye contact with Jason, who's staring at you with the same expression you think a wolf would wear when stalking a hare. "He's my boyfriend."

You expect Jason to tell you that someone was in an accident. Someone's in the hospital. Something terrible happened to your apartment while you were gone.

He says none of those things. Instead, Jason says, "I didn't know you picked up a Friday shift."

Ashley's face goes blank.

"I told you I would be home late."

“No,” he corrects. “You texted me that you were being held up.”

“Yeah, at work.”

“And then you disappeared.” Jason’s jaw clenched. “Did you know that a bank was held up this afternoon? Your bank?”

“Oh, shit,” your hand flies up to cover your mouth. “My phone died, I don’t know when. You couldn’t check my location and see I was here?”

He just shakes his head, stiff and wordless.

“Hey, Y/N.” It’s your manager approaching the host stand now, customer service smile on and eyes taking in Jason’s appearance. “What’s going on up here?”

“Hey, Steve,” you say. “Sorry, this is my boyfriend Jason—Jay, this is my manager, Steve—”

Jason gets the hint and smiles close-lipped, reaching to shake Steve’s hand.

“My phone died so he came to see if I needed a ride home.”

“As soon as your tables leave and your section’s clean, you’re good to go. Oh, and you have to roll silverware.”

“It’ll be at least another hour,” you say apologetically to Jason.

“Okay.” His eyes keep boring into you like he’s trying to send you a telepathic message. He’s mad, you get it, but it makes you a little mad, too. You’re a grown adult. Yeah, the miscommunication was your fault, and it’s fine for him to be worried, but he looks close to Red Hood levels of anger, which is totally unwarranted for this situation. “Is it cool if I wait at the bar for you, then?”

“Of course!” Steve answers for you. "Our bartender, Lacy, will be happy to serve you while you wait." He checks his watch. "Until last call, that is."

"He didn't scare you, did he?" you ask Ashley as soon as Steve leaves. You smile at Jason, trying to tease him, but his expression doesn't twitch. "He looks mean, but I promise he's a big ol' softie."

Jason just grunts, but on his way to the bar, he doesn't forget to drop a kiss to your forehead. It warms you from the inside out.

As soon as he's gone, Ashley blurts out, "What happened to his face?"

"Motorcycle accident," you fib. "Oh, my table's calling me."

You rush over to take care of the poor man's ketchup—he's been waiting almost five whole minutes—and check out another party. The back of your neck prickles as you do. Every time you glance at the bar, Jason's green eyes are locked on your every move. It flusters you so much that when your table leaves, they say thanks, and you respond with, "Good morning!"

"What?"

"Thanks, you too!"

You run back to the kitchen, and everyone immediately starts interrogating you about your 'huge hunky boyfriend' (Charlotte's words, not yours).

By some miracle, all your tables clear out by closing time, and you’re out by 9:20. There are still a couple people at the bar, but Jason’s up immediately to walk out with you, leaving his water glass on the counter.

He doesn’t say anything, though you can feel his eyes on you whenever you aren’t looking. You won’t fight in public, so you follow his lead and stay quiet.

He drove your car to pick you up, and even though he’s obviously mad, he holds the passenger door open for you before getting into the driver’s seat.

The drive home is silent. He parks in the spot for your shared apartment, then immediately, quietly, asks, “Why’d you pick up a shift without telling me?”

"It was super last-minute," you say. He's still facing forward, so you do the same, eyeing his profile out of the corner of your eyes. "Like, it happened this morning. I thought you were sleeping, so I didn't want to blow up your phone with texts. I thought you'd just check my location and see where I was when you woke up."

Jason's hand clenches on the center console. "I woke up and I was terrified."

"I'm sorry—"

"And the bank, and your wording, and your phone was off—"

"I know," you say, putting your hand over his fist. He unclenches immediately to lace his fingers with yours. "I'll make sure I tell you next time."

Jason takes a deep breath in, then lets it out. In a rush, he finally turns to face you and says, "I don't mean to be controlling."

You blink. "I don't think you're being controlling."

"You don't?" Jason frowns. "Then why were you so mad when I walked into your work?"

"Mad? I'm not mad—you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you, what are you talking about?"

"You've been glaring this whole time! And you didn't say a word this entire car ride."

"Because I thought you were angry. I wanted to give you space."

"Okay, wait, wait, wait." You hold up a hand. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad at me?"

"No," he says earnestly. "I was worried and scared, but you're an adult. You don't have to ask for permission if you want to pick up a shift at work." He makes a face like the thought disgusts him.

"Okay," you say. "Okay, well if you're not mad at me, I'm not mad at you, either."

"Then why did you look so pissed when I walked in?"

You press your lips together to keep from smiling. "Well, we have cameras that show us up front while we're in the kitchen, right? One of my coworkers was watching and said 'the hottest man in the world' walked in and I didn't look because I thought the hottest guy in the world was still asleep in my bed—"

Jason covers his face with his hands. You can't stop your smile now, and you pull them away so you can look at said handsome face. "And I didn't even look because I'm such a loyal, awesome partner—"

"You are pretty awesome," he agrees, trying to sound serious, but he's grinning like an idiot, too. His cheeks are flushed pink.

"I know I am. But then Charlotte said that the hostess, Ashley, looked a little intimidated by him, so I walked out to see if she needed help."

"Aw," Jason says. He lowers his chin to look at you from underneath his lashes, pretty as a picture. "Were you going to give me a stern talking-to?"

"I can still give you one," you offer.

"Maybe later."

He's still grinning, and you're still grinning, so the both of you are grinning at each other like idiots in the car.

You want to kiss him, and he's your boyfriend. You're allowed to do that whenever the two of you want, so you take Jason by the chin and pull his mouth to yours.

Jason sighs against you, and it's like all the tension in his body melts away. One hand comes up to cradle your jaw, the other on the back of your head.

You break away to murmur, "Are you patrolling tonight?" He's still so beaten up.

"No," he whispers, voice low and gravelly in a way that has butterflies whipping around like a tornado in your stomach.

"Good. Wanna go up and be the hottest patient in the world while I look at your wounds?"

"Only if you're the hottest nurse in the world."

"Oh, but then who will be the hottest chef in the world who makes dinner?"

"The hot chef is on vacation right now," Jason joked. "But I can be a really hot food-orderer. What takeout are you in the mood for?"

"You're the injured one. What do you want?"

"I want whatever you want."

You narrow your eyes in a glare. "Well, I want whatever you want."

"You gotta make a decision," he says, already on his phone. "You're the hottest decision-maker in the world, I'm the hottest food-orderer."

"Chinese?"

"You got it."

Right before he dials the number, you grab him and kiss him again. When you pull back, he chases after your lips. It's so tempting that you give him another firm peck before you pat his chest once.

Jason blinks twice, looking dazed. "What was that for?"

You shrug. "I just wanted to kiss the hottest man in the world."

"Oh, my God." He groans and covers his face again, but you can see his red ears. "You're never gonna let that go?"

"Mmm." You pretend to consider it. "No."

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[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

His Name | Soulmate!AU

~1.1k words

Jason Todd. That's the name that etched itself on your thigh the night of your sixteen birthday. Which is great, you have a soulmate. The issue is that you know– knew a Jason Todd. He happens to be six feet under the dirt in a graveyard you visit every Saturday. Which is not so great.

Being soul bound to a dead person gets you a lot of pitying glances from the people you know. You tell them there's more than one Jason Todd in the world. It makes your family shake their heads. You try not to dwell on the heartbreak on their faces when you tell them that, when they think you can't see it. They saw you and Jason together when he was alive. There won't be another Jason Todd in your life.

It's something you've slowly come to terms with, when no other Jason Todd finds their way to you, the idea of never seeing your name permanently marked on someone else's skin. The fact that you might never really have the person that's supposed to be yours.

That's why you might have reacted kind of poorly when Red Hood brings you up to a quiet rooftop, tugging off his leather jacket in front of you, dragging the material of his suit up and over his forearm to reveal your name on his skin.

You weren't even doing anything dangerous to get here, just at the wrong store at the wrong time, while some third-rate rouge went on and on about conquering the city. Standard Gotham experience.

What wasn't normal was Red Hood crashing through a window, brutal and efficient with every movement until each person with a gun was knocked out and beaten on the floor. Sure, you were aware he wasn't exactly a crime lord anymore, labeled a 'turned vigilante' by the press, but press also said he doesn't tend to leave crime alley. And you definitely weren't in crime alley. None of news stories of him saving people exactly calms the adrenaline coursing through you when he picks you up like it was the easiest thing in the world for him, hoisting you like you're made of glass over his shoulder and grappling you both to a nearby roof. You're alone before you even have time to process it.

You stumble back when he gently, so gently it makes your heart stutter, sets you on the ground. "Who do you think you are? You can't just grab people–" your biting words cut off as you register the black lettering across his skin. Your name. Your name is there. On Red Hoods arm.

You reach out to touch it before you can stop yourself, fingers trailing down his forearm and over each letter of your name. He lets you, not speaking words, only sighing in what sounds like relief. You force your gaze from the mark you could stare at forever to meet the glowing eyes of his mask. "You're- Jason Todd?"

He nods, every nerve of his body completely locked on you. It doesn't clear anything up. He can't be Jason Todd, at least, not the one you buried.

You make a face and step back, crossing your arms, "Yeah right."

He seems to blank, arm still held out, showing your name permanently engraved on his skin. "Yeah, right?" He echos, deep and robotic through the modulator of his mask.

You set your jaw and nod.

He tilts his head, lifting his arm higher to make you see the mark. To see your name. "Do you think I faked it?"

That makes you falter. Why would he? There's nothing to gain by pretending to be your soulmate. "Well, no. But you still could have the wrong person."

He exhales a laugh, breathes out your name with more fondess than you've ever heard. "Always so stubborn."

Your frown. Sure, maybe you could be stubborn but he doesn't know that.

He says your name again, reaching up to tug his hood back, reaching for his mask.

It makes you freeze, eyes going wide in shock when you make out his face. Jason. Your Jason. "How–" You start, but can't quite manage to finish, eyes darting over the face that's so familiar, only older, more tired, more scarred. But his eyes are still the same. Intent and focused and bright when everything around him is dark.

"It's a long story." He says softly, before starting to ramble, nervous to upset you, to lose any chance of knowing you again. Any unease you felt around Red Hood fades as you recognize the boy you grew up with in him. "Maybe I could tell you? Over coffee? I have safe house nearby. But, only if you're comfortable. Or we could meet during the day, if thats better?"

His voice sounds more familiar without mask, and you study him, almost accusing. "You didn't have to kidnap me to tell me you're alive. Or that you're my soulmate, you know."

He stumbles over your words, taking half a step closer to you. "I didn't! I mean, I wasn't trying to. I swear– I just couldn't take all of this off down there." He gestures to the mask, a little frantic to gain your approval.

It brings a small smile to your face, and he stops still at the sight of it, breath catching in his throat as you speak, "I'm glad you're here, Jason."

"I'm glad you're safe." He exhales out, eyes softening and tension draining from his muscles in relief.

You can't quite fight the urge to reach out for him, so you do, taking his hand and gently flipping it over so you can read your name again. You have questions, absolutely. Gripes. Proably a lecture that he should have come seen you sooner. But you settle on how right this feels in your bones, how your soul feels like its missing piece slotted into place. "Do you have creamer?"

"Creamer?" He asks, voice airy and memorized by the feel of your skin against his hand.

"For the coffee?" You prompt, smiling a little wider at his dazed expression, his eyes following your hand, like he can't believe you haven't run screaming for the hills.

"Yeah. Course. Anything you want." And when he focuses back in your face, you know in the very essence of what you are that he means it.

"Coffees a good start." You say, a little fond as you pull away your hand away, and he reluctantly lets your fingers slide from his.

"Coffee it is." And it is a good start. To know your other half again, to follow the warm, soothing feeling in your soul when you touch him, you'll try as many starts as it takes.