#i love you ak world building
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obsessed with this random lore drop in earthspirit's second op rec where they explain that the skeleton ↓
in her e2 art is an actual creature that just. exists in terra. there's apparently these creatures, that not everyone can see, that just feed off of the waste energy from originium arts. like, okay! sure!
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Lovejoy Take the Indie Rock Scene by Storm
Lovejoy is in this article!
Formed in 2021, Lovejoy is one of the newest and hottest bands in the indie rock world, building their name around their snappy lyricism, captivating melodies, and overall playful personalities. Comprised of lead vocalist Will Gold, guitarist Joe Goldsmith, bassist Ash Kabosu, and drummer Mark Boardman, the English quartet has already built quite the following through the releases of their three EPs. Their most recent release, Wake Up & It’s Over, came out in May this year, debuting at No. 5 on the UK album charts. Their schedules have been packed, as they did their first US headline tour this spring, topped off by a performance on the main stage at New York’s Governors Ball Music Festival. I had the absolute honor and pleasure of catching up with the guys after their performance at GovBall to discuss their recent successes, unexpected influences, and their hidden abilities:
To start off, let’s discuss your performance earlier today! How was it getting to play at GovBall and see all of your fans?
Will Gold: It was really, really fun.
Ash Kabosu: It was really cool. It’s like the end of a long-ass tour. It was a really nice endcap to everything we’ve been doing in America. It was cool to play New York again. We were here in December last year, and New York crowds are always really cool. I always fucking love this place!
WG: GovBall’s been absolutely incredible so far. Our set was really fun, and it’s always a pleasure to do any sort of main stage or any big stage that we get to perform our songs. It’s always a bit of a blessing.
Joe Goldsmith: We’ve done quite a few festivals, and I think we’ve played the best that we’ve played at any festival. We’ve done four, and that was the best we’ve played.
AK: Actually, we’ve done five! We played Manchester twice.
JG: I’d say that was the best we’ve performed. It was really fun.
Are there any artists that you’re hoping to catch while you’re here?
AK: A ton! I want to see Oliver Tree, Snail Mail
JG: Kenny Beats, Suki Waterhouse would be cool.
AK: Suki is fucking great; we’ve seen them at a few festivals now, and they’re really nice.
Are there any artists that you’re inspired by that fans might be surprised by?
AK: It is only basslines, so you don’t really notice, but I take a lot of inspiration from Idiot Pilot. They’re a small band from back in the emo days. I really like Loathe; I think they’re incredible. They’re just a completely different genre, and you wouldn’t really notice if I didn’t tell you just now.
WG: I get a lot of rhythms from Japanese math rock.
Mark Boardman: A lot of my style of playing comes from bands like Northlane and all these metalcore bands, like Thornhill. Even old stuff from Bring Me The Horizon, that’s the stuff that got me into double kick and stuff. Northlane, especially with the cymbal placement and the double kicks, the space, I love it.
JG: Sometimes I get some weird guitar influences from shoegaze bands, like DIIV or Slowdive, bands like that. It’s stuff like that but also random Japanese city rock from the 80s.
Japan is always living in the future!
JG: Yeah, it’s so cool!
WG: Specific bands that I really like are tricot, Chon, things like that.
I love that you guys mentioned these other influences and how they play a role in your current creation! Are there any other genres that you want to dabble in or draw inspiration from in the future?
JG: I really want Mark to do a jungle drum breakdown at some point in a song because jungle drums are fucking so catchy and boppy, and they’re so fun to groove to. I think we could pull it off, so I think that’s going to be a challenge for Mark.
MB: That’d be really sick. We’d get to experience playing around with a lot of different sounds because it’s a whole lot of cymbals and shit, so that’d be really fun to do that. We’d have to see where it fits though. We’ll get it done.
Which song of yours do you think defines your band the most?
WG: That’s kinda “Call Me What You Like.” Or “Portrait of a Blank Slate.”
AK: We’re still kinda figuring who we are, so it’s difficult to kinda pin it down. I think the songs are just different periods of our development, so I guess it’d be the most recent ones.
What was it like forming your band over the past few years and getting to tour the world so quickly in your careers?
WG: Different. I don’t know if it was more or less difficult. I feel like bands that form and grow on the Internet seem to have a lot of scrutiny for bands that grow the old-fashioned touring way and vice versa—bands that tour and go through that tend to have a lot of scrutiny for the Internet bands. I feel like we could all learn something from each other. I feel like there’s a lot of crossover and important things we can learn. We definitely haven’t done it perfectly, but we’ve done it our way, and that’s what matters.
AK: I feel bad for the bands that are forced to make TikToks all the time. That shit sucks, dude. Just let them make music; that’s what they’re good at!
WG: I like making TikToks.
AK: Yeah, but that’s us: we’re Internet-brained.
If you could switch roles with one of your bandmates for a day, whose role would you want to take on?
WG: Probably Ash.
AK: I’m very happy being me.
It’d be just for a day!
WG: Oh, I’d be the bassist.
AK: I’d be Mark just so I could understand how his brain works.
WG: Oh, we’re being in the other person’s brain? I thought we were just switching instruments.
It’s just switching roles, not bodies!
AK: Oh, okay! Well, not Mark. I would fuck that up so bad.
MB: I want to be Joe and do a guitar solo, slide on my knees. I’d be lead [guitar].
AK: I also want to be lead [guitar].
JG: I’d sing. Nobody wants to be drums.
If you could devise a conspiracy theory involving your band, what would it be?
JG: We're not real.
AK: Yeah, we’re actually AI-generated. We were an earlier iteration of ChatGPT that actually fabricated itself into human beings. It’s very advanced; you’ll probably see this roll out in the next 4-5 years. There’ll be loads of AI bands—we’re the first.
WG: Mine would be that we started the Spanish flu. You remember that pandemic 490 years ago or whatever it was? It definitely wasn’t rampant civilization and technological booms and livestock.
If there were band member Olympics, what events would there be?
MB: Hot dog eating.
Do you guys do a lot of hot dog eating?
MB: Oh yeah, we’re glizzy munchers.
WG: Do we?
MB: Me and Joe don’t eat meat, so yeah, lots of hot dogs!
WG: Don’t ask Mark any more questions! 100-meter, discus, archery, let’s just have the full shebang! I don’t know how we’ll do it, but I just want to see how we’ll do.
AK: I’m not really good at any physical capacity-
WG: Bobsled.
Don’t they have video games now in the Olympics?
JG: Esports type shit! I was thinking skating, as well.
AK: I’ll do some longboarding then.
JG: I’ll play some Tetris for a gold medal.
Any messages you’d like to send your fans?
JG: You’re the best. We appreciate everything that you say and give to us, except for Steve. We don’t care for Steve.
After our quick chat, the guys huddled around a tree in the media area to take portraits, which immediately escalated into a climb up the tree to pose for a few photos. Even in our short time together, all of them were incredibly gracious and took every opportunity to let each of their personalities shine, whether it be through silly facial expressions in their individual photos or laughing along to one another’s goofy mannerisms. Although they were one of the opening acts of the Saturday lineup, their fans came out to show their support, screaming along to each song as if Lovejoy were headlining the main stage. One other photographer mentioned to me that a fan told him that they were only at GovBall to see Lovejoy play, which is true commitment.
Since their GovBall appearance, the band has since played Glastonbury Festival in England and Open’er Festival in Poland, topped off by a headline spot at Belgium’s Rock Werchter. For a band in their earliest years, it’s evident that this is not the last you’ll hear of Lovejoy as the band continues to grow and tour the world. The massive support that they’ve garnered over the past few years is also a testament to their talent and their potential to be one of the biggest names within the indie rock scene as a whole. If you haven’t already hopped on the Lovejoy train, there’s no better time than the present, as there’s no telling what they’ll achieve next!
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Love is a drug|| JJK|| 1
Pairing: Yandere Jungkook × Female Reader
Genre: Yandere Themes, a bit fluff, angst, betrayal.
Warning: Fluff, Loverboy jk
Summary: YN had a very Happy life with her lovely Boyfriend Jeon Jungkook, a 24 year old ceo ; but things take a vast turn and yn finds herself in critical condition.
CHAPTER ONE
The day started off with hustling and bustling of peoples, the birds chirping were clearly heard cause there were people but no voices everyone in their own work. Well this was the side of Jeon Industries, a regular one.
The CEO and Grandson of founder, Jeon Jungkook was no different from these people. Infact he was the boss, holding the power on this very building, a 24 year old handsome bachelor that's what people called him.
Sitting on the chair which belonged to his a month ago was satisfying for him. Jungkook believed that power could give him everything he want and need.
"This plan can actually be useful for our company, I hope you put consideration into it Mr. Jeon Jungkook." The lab department voiced out their plan for growing business of Jeon Industries. Honestly Jungkook was bored, he just wanted to go home and relax but some stupids wanted him to collaborate with Seoul's no.1 hospital Asan.
Asan is one of the biggest hospital and basically they wanted to bring out some good electronics for technicians in hospital.
Jungkook wasn't a bit interested, he even hated hospitals how is he supposed to go and make this offer but he knew better with his father glaring at him from the corner of the room.
"Alright!! We can consider this for the sake of growth of our company. Secretary Park, when are we going?" Jungkook turns to Park Jimin his secretary as well as his bestfriend.
" We have the appointment of tomorrow Mr. Jeon" Jimin exclaimed.
They were here at the very next day and much to Jungkook's anger the dean made them wait for 10 minutes for the meeting. Jungkook moved to the technician department to demand about the dean.
'BLOOD TECHNICIAN' he reads the tag aand aks "Where the hell is dean? How dare he-"
His world stops as he looks at lady. She was pretty and mesmerizing.He don't the exact thing he liked. Was it pretty face? was it her wavy hairs? Was it clean desk ? Or was it her sexy voice?
"Sir!! May I help you?" YN it read on her badge said and Jungkook's heart couldn't stop hammering. Let's just say he was glad for the dean's delay that day.
Jungkook and YN laughs at the memory of their first meet at their now a year anniversary. At how Jungkook developed a crush on her and started visiting the hospital ofter with any, it means ANY chance he gets.
YN got attached and impressed with his cute tactics very quick. Jungkook looked hopelessly in love with her so much that he imagined himself with her for the rest of his.
" YN-ah!! You can't leave your boyfriend at anniversary like that. Look I even turned sexy for you " Jungkook claimed with holding her tightly in the arms. She can already see the pout on lips buldge out and certainly he ruined his sexy facade.
"Babe!! I told I have work tomorrow " You teased. You didn't had any work, you just loved the way he was clinging onto you.
Well Jungkook knew more than anyone that you don't have work tomorrow. But he wanted to perceive you longer, be in your arms, talk with you all night cause he knew you won't leave ever.
And let's just say the night went pretty well...p
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Pt 3: if only you knew
An Unfortunate Incident
word count: 5k
warnings: major violence, adult language, and angst
A/N: Ok sooooo. Thank everyone for all your support!! It means the world. Also I want to explain my inspiration for our main girl. I want her to be a bit darker than the other vigilantes. Someone that’s similar to Red Hoods vibe. I like to imagine her outfit similar to Azrael’s in AK, just without the full mask. I changed the name to Vulture instead of Phoenix because I felt like Phoenix was a little too cliche. As always please give feedback and love you guys!
Blinking a few times, you take in your surroundings. You’re on a cot in Panessa Studios. There’s a tightness in your side that tells you they stitched you up. Pushing yourself up on your elbows, you look around. There are other cells identical to the one you’re in, with people in them.
“Great, you’re up,” Tim pops into view, donned in his Robin suit. “Batman told me not to let you out.”
You look at him, opening your mouth to argue when he cuts you off. “Lucky for you, I know he needs help out there. You’re free to go, that is, if you’re feeling like it. I know it can be scary to get back out the–”
“This isn’t my first time getting my ass beat,” you remind him, “but that did sound like it was going to be a great pep talk, though.”
Placing your feet on the floor, you begin to stand. Your body aches from the beatings, and you can feel the itchiness of the stitching as you walk to the door. The door slides open to allow you out, and you finally see the other people in the cells.
Looking at them, you see they all have pale skin and green hair, and even their mouths look slightly deformed to an upturned smile. While you’re staring, they all begin to yell and taunt you. Seeing the confused look on your features, Tim quickly explains who they are and why they’re locked in the cells.
Turning away from the people, you begin walking toward the elevator. “How long was I out for?”
“Couple hours. It’s gotten worse out there.”
“Has Bats asked for any help?”
“If he has, he hasn’t asked me.” He frowns like a disappointed kid.
And as you stare at him, you remember that he is just a kid. He’s barely older than Jason was when he became Robin. Your heart clenches at the thought of Tim possibly meeting the same fate as Jason.
“Don’t take it personally. He’s just looking out for you in his own way.” You grab his shoulder and squeeze it. He smiles back.
He calls out to you as you get on the elevator to go up.
“Kick some ass for me!”
As you leave the studio, your ears are filled with static before a voice emerges.
“Hello, Miss, I wanted to let you know your suit is complete. I have the Batwing sending it, along with new devices for you. I hope it is to your liking.” Lucius sounds pleased with himself.
“Thank you, Lucius.” The Batwing comes around the corner, and you watch in awe as the pod rockets down, slamming into the ground.
It opens with a loud hiss. Inside, the light reveals a two-piece suit. The dark green and black colors contrast against the bright white light. Putting it on, you instantly notice the reinforced fabric and the extra padded areas. Lucius had included details you hadn’t even thought of, like attaching a cape to the hood of your top and new boots. You take a moment to get used to the new suit and place your new gadgets and weapons on so they adorn every inch of your body.
Pressing on your comms, you call out to Oracle, but there’s nothing. A chill runs down your spine. That’s unlike Barbara. You try again, but there’s still nothing. As a final attempt, you use the tempad on your wrist to call her but receive the same response - silence. Shooting out the grappling hook, you feel the tug as it latches onto the next building. With your legs moving at top speed, you leap from building to building, feeling the wind rush against your face.
The moment you get closer to the Clock Tower, the reverberating sound of multiple shots fills the air, echoing from the Batmobile and the militia tanks. The Tower itself has an overwhelming amount of militia presence. Jumping down, you make quick work of taking them out. Taking your chain whip, you wrap one end around your left hand and use your right to swing and deliver blows. Utilizing the chain, you swiftly neutralize several men, effortlessly reeling in the remaining ones and defeating them with your hands.
There’s a quick, almost too fast black mass out of the corner of your eye. As you glance in that direction, you notice Batman has entered the fray; his powerful presence gains the attention of the men. Most of them leave you to go deal with him. You and Bruce do good at avoiding each other, until the last second of the fight.
There’s only one man left, and you punch into his core as many times as possible, forcing him to move backward and toward Batman. Sweeping out his feet, you kick him back, letting Bruce deal the final hit that puts the guy to sleep.
The robotic voice of Arkham Knight comes over the comms of the fallen militia men. “I’m impressed. But your tricks don’t stay new for long, Batman. I see you’ve added another person that you’ll get killed.”
Your eyes widen as you look at Bruce. He looks back at you before grappling at the top of the Tower. You’re right after him.
You both land in the room, and while looking around, you notice only one thing out of the ordinary. There’s no sign of a struggle, just an empty turned-over wheelchair that lays in the middle of the floor.
“What the hell happened?” Bruce ignores your question. Turning to see what he’s doing, you notice a glossy look in his eyes as he stares at the wheelchair. Strange. He still doesn’t respond or acknowledge you’re there, even after you call his name multiple times. He finally snaps out of his daze and places the wheelchair back upright.
The elevator dings open to show Commissioner Gordon. As he enters the room, you push yourself into the shadows, hoping to become a fly on the wall as you watch what unfolds.
Jim’s foot lands on a picture frame of him and Barbara. While he kneels, he lightly runs his fingers across it. Bruce speaks up, “This isn’t your fault, Jim.”
“Of course it is. Crane’s done this to get to me. I should have been here.”
Your heart breaks as you watch him blame himself.
“There’s something I need to show you.” Bruce turns, walking to the retina scanner.
Jim stands back to full height, following him. “We haven’t got time. She’s not like us,” Jim frets.
“Batman?” You question him, making sure he wants to do this. He doesn’t seem to care about the consequences.
As the machine whirls to life, the room soon converts into Oracle’s domain. And before you can say another word, he reveals the secret that Barbara fought so hard to keep from her father. You watch as Jim digests what's happening, his eyes darting back and forth between the room and Batman. You know it’s clicked when his face goes from sadness to anger.
“She’s strong, Jim, stronger than you realize.”
Not only do you see the anger, but you can feel the anger radiating off of Jim as he turns back to Batman.
“She works for you?” He scoffs as he shakes his head, walking toward the elevator. “This is all your fault.”
“I will find her,” Batman’s stern voice was an unspoken promise.
You stare in surprise as Jim punches him. Batman takes the punch unfazed.
“She’s my family! MY DAUGHTER! She’s all I’ve got.” He gets on the elevator, turns around, and tells Bruce, “I never should have trusted you. Never!” His face was full of pain and betrayal as he threw down his communicator.
“I’ll do this on my own. Stay away from my family.” His voice wavers a little but remains stern. He slams shut the elevator door and leaves.
Once the elevator is gone, you turn back to Bruce, “What’s our next step? How do we plan on finding Barbara?”
“I’ll hack the municipal CCTV system. I should be able to monitor all access points in the building.” He filters through the footage from the last few hours.
“There!” You watch as two militia vehicles pull up. The Arkham Knight hops out of one, enters the Tower, and soon returns with what looks like an unconscious Barbara. He puts her in the back of the car and takes off with her.
“I’ll be able to program the Batmobile to track the tires, their AmerTek D60s.”
“Great, I’ll come with you.”
“No, you need to be out on the streets. There are militia checkpoints and riots that you can help with.”
“I don’t work for you, Bruce,” you remind him. “I’m in this for Barbara, and the best way for me to help is to get her back.”
“There’s no time to argue. If you want Barbara back faster, you’ll listen to me and stay back.” He insisted.
“You better find her.” You sneer at him,
You’re out of the tower, watching the streets from above. You can’t stop yourself from seething with rage towards Bruce. Who does he think he is to tell you what to do? And who are you to listen? You hate that you’re not helping find Barbara; you hate that you’re stuck doing busy work.
A flashing light catches your eye, causing you to turn and see Bat Burger in the distance. You and Jason had gone there before everything, and you wish your smile were genuine, but instead, a bittersweet feeling washes over you. Your smile is one of self-pity. Your last moments with each other were marked by faces red with anger, furrowed brows, and tear-filled eyes as you desperately pleaded for him to listen. Closing your eyes, you think back to that night.
There’s snow covering the ground, Jason’s complaining about Bruce treating him like a kid, and you just listen as you stare up at him while waiting in line to order.
You grab your food and sit in a secluded booth, far from the bustling crowd.
“I’m not a kid. I haven’t been one for a long time. He treats me like I’m still in the learning phase. Like, I haven’t been with him for almost two years! You know, after Dick had been with him for two years, he had joined the Titans!” He takes a massive bite of the burger in his hands, and with his mouth full of food, he speaks again. “I’m going to show him. Hell, I’ll go after Joker if it shows him to take me seriously.”
You giggle at him, “Yeah, great idea, Jay. I’ll take down Croc while we’re at it.” You look up from your meal when you don’t hear him laugh.
“I’m not kidding,” he had a stern look on his face.
“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” He stops mid-chew to look at you like you’re crazy.
“Look, Jay, I know how hard it is to deal with Bruce, but don’t you think that’s a little too much?” You shrug, trying to ease the uncomfortableness that’s fallen over the table.
“Actually, you don’t know how hard it is to deal with Bruce.” Great, you think. He’s putting up a wall. “You don’t think I can do it?” he accuses you.
“It’s not that, just…maybe wait a little longer.”
He scoffs, “I could do it. I could take any of them.”
“I’m sure you could, but wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t risk it? Wouldn’t it be better if you could confidently take them down in a couple of years?”
“The only ones not confident in me are you and Bruce.”
“Don’t lump me in with him. I just think there are other ways to show him you’re ready to move on from being the dynamic duo.”
“None of that will be as effective as this. If I show him, I can hold my own. He won’t be able to ignore it.” Jason’s being stubborn as always, and usually, you love that about him, but right now, it’s adding to your aggravation.
“Unless you get killed!” You toss your hands up, trying to make your point more clearly.
“I can’t believe this. You’re supposed to support me. Why don’t you see that I can do this?” His eyebrows furrow, his face getting slightly flushed as he grows angrier.
“Jason, it’s a stupid idea! There’s such a high chance of you getting injured or, worse, killed! Why do you not care about that?”
“I bet if Dick had told you this, you’d bat your eyelashes and tell him he’s so brave.” He jeered. Your eyes soften slightly, knowing how he constantly compares himself to others. He had a wicked jealous streak, not to mention his fear of not being good enough. You know he wants to impress Bruce, to show that he was better than Dick, that he was the best yet.
“Don’t be an ass, Jay. I’m trying to look out for you.”
“I don’t need you to look out for me. I can do that myself.” He stands from the table, and you lunge up after him. Following him outside.
“Just forget I said anything. No one trusts me. No one believes in me. I’m just Jason, the poor alley kid Bruce Wayne so generously took in. I’m just the second Robin, constantly compared to Boy Wonder.” He whips around to face you. “I’m so fucking tired of it! I want to be seen for who I am, not for where I came from. No one has faith in me, but I’ll prove it. I’ll show all of you that you’re wrong.”
You step back from him, your face twisting as you empathize with me. He notices immediately, and his anger just furthers.
“Don’t you fucking dare look at me like that. I don’t need your pity. I don’t need anything from you.” He turns back around and begins stalking toward the nearest alley. You chase after him, the cold air nipping at your burning face.
You feel your eyes welling up with tears but refuse to cry, “Jason, wait, please!”
His pace doesn’t decline. “Jay, I just want to keep you here for as long as possible! I don’t care about where you come from or who’s been here before you! I just care that you’re still here! You can’t do this.” You finally catch up and grab his arm.
Turning quickly, he grabs your arm and shoves you off him. His eyes are full of fire, and they’re glossy with tears. “Nothing you say can stop me. I was just hoping you’d be different and that you’d understand. I hoped you’d be a good friend and at least lie, but you didn’t because you’re just like them.”
“Please don’t do anything stupid, please, Jason.” You grab at him again, but he dodges your hand. You feel the tears overflowing, and your throat gets tight as your nose burns.
“Jason, please, just listen to me. Just think about this. Please don’t, Jason.” The tears have started to fall as you beg him.
The tears that roll down your face feel like knives slicing him open. He has to turn away. He can’t stand to see you cry, especially since he caused it. He doesn’t respond to your pleas as he makes his way up and out of the alley.
A huge booming noise towards Miagani pulls you back to the present. You can hear multiple rapid shots exchanged between tanks and the Batmobile. Pressing a button on the tempad on your wrist, you hear the low rumble of your motorcycle nearby. You jump off the building and press the button again. From around the corner, your bike appears. Positioning yourself on the bike, you grip the handlebars tightly, feeling the engine's vibration reverberate through your hands as you accelerate towards triple-digit speeds, racing towards Miagani Island.
Arriving at the scene, it is obvious you’re too late. Destroyed tanks fill the area, with some still burning. The thought of following Bruce crosses your mind, but it quickly vanishes once you see the tunnel. You’re very intrigued by the tunnel. The pull is irresistible, like a pirate under the spell of a siren's song.
As you slowly roll down, you’re stunned at the realization that there had been a massive militia presence under your feet this entire time. Your eyes dart from one direction to another, constantly scanning your surroundings. Despite the appearance of a complete evacuation, you remain on high alert, not lowering your guard. The tunnel opening fades from sight, leaving you with a pounding heart and a sense of unease. As you venture deeper, an unsettling feeling of being watched washes over you. You just blame it on nerves.
There’s a room on the left side of the tunnel. You wonder if there’s anything in there that could help find Barbara. You position your bike nearby in case you need a quick getaway. Walking around, you examine every piece of paper, nook, and cranny. Luckily, your search isn’t wholly void; you find some Batarangs.
As you stand from picking up the Batarangs, the feeling of being watched is so strong you quickly whip around to look at the door. Your blood runs cold as you come face to face with the Arkham Knight.
“It must be my lucky night, getting two of you little heroes in a row. Even better is that you brought yourself to me.” His modulated voice adds to echoes around the room.
Without meaning to, you’ve taken a step back. Arkham Knight matches by stepping forward.
“If we’re going to fight, let’s get on with it.” What sounds like a laugh comes through his helmet before he lunges at you.
His fist met your body quick and hard. Blocking as many as you could, you landed some of your own. Each punch from you lands with a resounding thud against his combat suit. You're doing well until he grips your shoulders, forcefully slamming you against his knee. The impact of his knee against your stitched-up side sends a lightning bolt of pain all over. As the pain rattles your body, you crumble to the ground, feeling the hard surface beneath you. His towering body seemed even more looming as he stared down at you.
He straddles your body, not even flinching as you thrash and punch him. He tightly grips your neck, his hands constricting like a vise. You know you’re going to be bruised. As he tries to suffocate you, you swiftly wrap your legs around his waist, desperately seeking leverage. You attempt to gain an advantage by extending your arms as far as possible, pushing against the front of his helmet, and contorting your body to move his head back. His grip on your neck relaxes ever so lightly as you twist his neck further to the side.
With his grip still on your neck, you brace your arms in a triangle-like shape under his. Slamming them against his, you break out of the lock he has on you. Following it with a kick to his chest. The impact is jarring, sending a shockwave of sensation up your legs. With a backward roll, he allows you to rise to your feet. When you turn to face him, you see the Knight back on his feet, ready for another round. Both of you stand there, eyes locked, the tension palpable. He waits for you to bolt out the door as you wait for him to lunge at you.
He jerks his head at the doorway, “Go ahead, run.” Even through the voice disruptor, you can hear the smirk he’s wearing.
You break the stand-off by slinging the batarangs at him. They take him by surprise, and he instinctively swipes at them in self-defense, giving you time to run towards your bike. You hear his footsteps thudding behind you as you approach your bike. Before you can swing your leg to get on, you’re being picked up and slammed down onto the dirt. Your brain rattles in your skull from the force, and you go blind with rage.
Going ballistic, you start punching and you don’t stop. Even as he blocks, you keep going, sidestepping his fist and his legs as he attempts to kick. You circle him so fast that he gets dizzy. Ducking down, you strike his midsection with jabs, then deliver an uppercut to his metal head. In a twisting motion, you aim to deliver a roundhouse kick, but he successfully catches your ankle as your foot comes close to him. You support him by propelling yourself towards him.
He wobbles backward. You entwine your legs around his waist and thrust yourself towards his center of mass. He falls to the dirt with a thud. Your strength doesn’t waver, not even when you’re on top. Straddling him, you slam the front of his helmet with both hands. Despite repeating the process, the glass remains unbreakable. Yanking out one of your blades, you aim for his unarmoured neck. Just before the blade hits, he grabs your arms only centimeters away.
“I wonder how Batman will feel about this murder attempt?” He taunts you.
Determined to get the blade through his neck, you push as hard as you can. “I wonder how it’ll feel when I slice through your vocal cords.” You snarl back at him.
He chuckles, pretending he doesn’t feel the blade against his Adam’s apple.
You lean forward, using your body weight to press the blade down. It backfires and allows him to ram his helmet against your forehead. After you tumble off of you, you attempt to crawl toward your bike. The black spots in your vision make it almost impossible to see it.
Arkham Knight stands there, watching as you crawl to your motorcycle. He almost for half a second feels for you. For half a second, he thinks back to when he was Robin. He thinks of that little boy so full of red-hot rage, so stubborn to prove himself. He sees Jason Todd in you. Soon, images of himself crawling away from Joker derail his mind. The asylum’s grimy, moldy floors squeak as he moves away from Joker. The new Robin suit being caked with blood and the massive headache he had all the time.
He can’t breathe. He hates watching you crawl. He hates seeing you. He hates Batman. He wants him to pay, to feel how he feels. He needs to send a message.
He stalks over to you, and once he’s close enough, he kicks you in the side so hard you flip over. He places his boot on your chest, applying enough pressure to make you wheeze.
“Don’t blame me for this. Blame Batman. He wasn’t here to protect you. He left you all alone.” He says it like he’s pitying you. No teasing or taunting, just pity.
He takes a small gun and aims it at your chest. You double-click the button on your tempad that alerts your bike to come to your location. It roars to life and charges in your direction. The speed of the bike causes his instincts to kick in, and he swiftly leaps aside. With lightning speed, you mount the bike and zip away. As you emerge from the tunnel, the sight of the Gotham streets greets you, and in that moment, a wave of relief washes over you.
Standing there, the Knight watches you disappear into the distance, the sound of the motorcycle reverberating off the walls. He raises the gun, his finger hovering over the trigger, but then abruptly lowers it, a moment of hesitation flashing in his eyes. He’ll wait until the perfect moment. He wants Batman to witness your death. Nothing and no one is safe from the Arkham Knight, and he’s going to make sure that Bruce knows that.
taglist: @thegirlwiththeyarn @pank0w @geminizmoonz @emilia527 @elizamay @anime5005 @babypaperwitch @skypperlegacy @rwylm-things @mayo-0-o @ex-cla-ma-tion @pheonixfucu @not-herexo @g0atmansbridge182 @theg0ddesshera @redhoodedangel @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @marigiano @lyralibra @lilocapoca @misaki-kira8 @blackcanary130 @ykyouluvme @kiwi03 @xbonniepricexx @definitelynotanalien @ghostlyleech @pinkmaggit666 @0littlestwolf0 @stupid-ninja @reanie-xoxo @kittykatchicha @bunz-lover @justalittleb1tcrazy @gghoulpool @snackeyalleyjuice @deadplantluver @comealivedaya @thefandomdiaries07 @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @awstrck @gemini-bichxx-blog @jennifermoyas @xdrin @harleycao @screamingsilence3 @ex-pinguina @kat-nee
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd#arkham knight x reader#batman arkham knight#Arkham knight x fem!reader#if only you knew#ioyk#dc comics#arkham knight#red hood#red hood x reader
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Fuckity Fuck. This’ll be a long one girlies!
AK!Jason & Pizza gorl have an unconventional romantic relationship! I headcanon JT as disabled since he realistically should be. He’s canonically able bodied & can most definitely still kick some serious ass, but mentally, he’s absolutely spent. Suspension of disbelief for the sake of this being based on a literal video-game BUT also I want to world build in my little delulu arkham verse!
As always credit to my favorite fic writer @morverenmaybewrites because she made the pizza gorl fic 🤭🍕
Please read! If you have read it, reread it!
SLEEPING 😴💤
In my world these two basically obsessed with each other but PG is extremely accommodating to JT’s mental & physical traumas. She strongly encourages him to do what’s comfortable for him in their home, as she wants it to be a safe space for them both. Jason does his very best to accommodate PG as well as he possibly can to return the favor.
J prefers to sleep alone most nights.
He sleeps on the pullout couch a lot of the time don’t worry he’s not cramped because of his nightmares and general anxiety/paranoia. Despite it though, he still desires the presence of you constantly, it brings him an immense amount of comfort. The doors in the apartment normally stay open. Even during showers. He can hear you sketching, typing, reading, or even occasionally snoring depending on how quiet the night is. It’s the perfect white noise in his opinion! The gentle presence of a loved one goes a long way for JT, he doesn’t feel alone nor watched or out of place. It’s the epitome of a happy medium for him.
When you two are actually sleeping together, it’s usually really cold out. The bed is extra toasty with your XL heating pad and fluffy duvet. JT makes a habit of burying himself underneath the comforter and tucking himself into your embrace, he sleeps the heaviest on these nights. He rarely overheats. Typically these are dreamless nights for him. During the peak of Gothams harsh winter, Jason is the most consistent with sleeping in bed with the exception of a couple random nights he gets horrible night terrors. He just can’t get enough of the encompassing warmth 🤭 Not to mention it’s much harder for his mind to construct nightmares when all he’s thinking about is getting warm.
PG obviously prefers to sleep with her significant other most nights but makes it a point to respect his boundaries. As much as she wants Jason to be guilt free when sleeping alone, he still feels no better than a bag of shit when leaving her to her own devices nearly every night after all this time together; especially during holidays like valentines or something similar. To combat this they’ll usually do an activity together before sleeping—like reading aloud to one another or crocheting or even a coloring book.
COOKING/CLEANING 🫧🧽🧼
PG loves to eat but couldn’t be more indifferent to cooking, it’s not a hobby or particularly fun experience for her. She does it simply because Jason doesn’t like to mix things up when he cooks. Not because he doesn’t want to either, he’s just good at a handful of dishes and hasn’t ventured beyond them. They’re both average but PG is marginally better since she cooks more.
Jason’s skin looks considerably better due to him eating more homemade food. He’s not nearly as greasy now.
JT having someone hounding him to hydrate and eat on routine gives him more energy… he’s lowkey shocked at how much more energy he actually has. PG is indefinitely annoyed at his antics but continues to nag JT to keep up with himself. He usually returns the favor by doing most of the chores, he seems to get some enjoyment from cleaning. It’s so easy for him to focus while simultaneously not actually think about anything. Head completely empty… only the sound of himself scrubbing away at grime.
Pure peace.
Sometimes when Jason runs out of things to clean it will lead to him stressing out unnecessarily. Unfortunately, it’s the only activity that helps alleviate stress at a rapid rate. The second best self soothing method is counting down from 10 thousand in increments 7 or something akin to that. But it doesn’t work nearly as well though..
As helpful PG finds this behavior, they’re both brainstorming better measures for calming him down.
HYGIENE 🪥
Pizza can’t really go more than 24 without a shower, she hates smelling like greasy fast food! She has a lot of scented products that help get rid of the stench pretty effectively. Jason only uses them when he needs to erase the scent of blood, otherwise he opts for the simple cleansers and shampoos.
PG loves to feel just as pretty as she smells so her hoard of hygienic products is never lacking. Jason is still genuinely curious how any girl could need so many oils, body butters, & moisturizers. It’s never ending. JT never comments or judges his significant other on her affinity for skincare. Something that makes PG so clearly happy makes him happier too. Not to mention, Jason also reaps some small benefits from her extensive collection; although he usually just uses what Pizza seems to ignore the most, some of his smaller scars have evened out and much of his hyperpigmentation has lessened. Jason himself hasn’t noticed this development in the slightest, but PG most definitely has.
He’s very bashful when you compliment him and most of the time, Jason doesn’t believe you.. sometimes though, he can’t help but let his heart flutter at the directness of your attraction.
Every once in awhile, Jason will roll up his sleeves and ask you rub cream on his forearms. As tense and anxious JT will become while being touched, he wants to heal. He wants Joker to stop haunting him. Freedom is all Jason has ever wanted since the asylum. Becoming whole again is his ultimate goal; so he’ll sit through the discomfort, the self hatred and disgust of his mangled body, to exist as he sees fit. Not by what Joker had planned for him. PG doesn’t always do it as long as he’d like if she feels he’s on the verge of panic or an episode, but occasionally, Jason can beat personal records.
JT gets loads of praise from his partner either way.
Anything to do with prolonged touch is done in complete darkness 🙃 what kind of touch is up to y’alls discretion lol
#blurb#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jt <3#arkham knight#red hood#ak!jason#jason peter todd#my baby boy 🥹🥰#arkhamverse#pizza girl x jason todd#pizzagorl
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Chapter 1
‘Is this love?’
Kenji Kishimoto x reader
<this takes place before shatter me>
<Contains some cussing><just in case someone needs it… (y/n); your name, (l/n) last name>
Your the adopted daughter of the Supreme Commander Anderson, you were brought in at a young age due to your intelligence when it came to tinkering with machines. Now you are know as Aaron's right hand, someone to be feared, creating all sorts of weapons for the Reestablishment, over time you have learned to keep your emotions in check and hardly ever smile... but what happens when an annoyingly cute new soldier is constantly trying to get your attention? Will your emotions start to spark again? Or will this mess of a world shatter your love story until it becomes nothing but a lost dream. Only time will tell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I didn’t know what time it was or how long I had been down here and honestly I didn’t care.
I was mindlessly tinkering with whatever I could find trying to cure my boredom, lately that seems like all I do, wake up, eat, work, and sleep, it feels like my life is constantly repeating itself, nothing ever changes, I feel like I’m slowly losing my god damn mind…
With a sigh I put down my equipment as I look at the Ak-47 I was building, I get up from my seat as I stretch looking at my surroundings, I was currently in my workshop, a giant room located under the main building in sector 45.
I take a quick look at my many projects, from pistols to tanks I have fixed and improved them all, of course I’m not the only person working in this section, but I am the one who fixes the things that no one else can, in other words I am irreplaceable to this sector, something I have worked my ass off to accomplish, Anderson might have taken me in but that doesn’t mean I got any special treatment I know damn well if I am to fail at my job I won’t go unpunished, that man has always been good at keeping everyone in there place.
I am quickly snapped out of my thoughts when I hear knocking at the door
“come in!” I say,
a soldier steps into the room
“good afternoon Miss (l/n)” the soldier gives a quick bow as a sign of respect
“Is there something you need?” I ask, the soldier was quick to answer my question,
“Sir Warner has called for you”
“has he now… for what purpose?”
“to welcome the new recruits Miss, he wants you to be ready in 8 hours”
this answer surprised me, I didn’t expect to welcome recruits so soon after the last bunch,
“very well, tell him I’ll be there”
the soldier gave one last bow as he left the room, it was quiet for a while before I decided to go to my private chambers, ‘I should probably prepare…’
—————————
After a shower I dressed into elegant clothes, just like Aaron I enjoyed looking presentable, especially when it came to important matters, I tidied up my hair as I gave myself one last look in the mirror.
After assuring myself that everything was in place I walk towards the location in which the assembly is taking place, I spotted Aaron waiting for me in the hall, once I approached him he gave me a small nod and walked into the auditorium, i quickly followed behind him.
I looked around the room towards the thousands of men, Aaron quickly found his place in front of the podium as I took my place next to him.
While he started to give his welcome speech I took the opportunity to give a closer look at the soldiers trying my best to memorize all the new faces, none of the soldiers where looking at me all to focused on the speech my brother was giving,
that was until i made eye contact with one particular man catching me a bit off guard, the man had a defined jawline and eyes as pitch-black as his hair,
for a second i wasn’t quite sure how to react so i sort of just froze, the man noticed this and i realized that he started smirking at my reaction, this pissed me off, ‘just who does this guy think he is?’,
a threw him a glare, there was no way I was going to let this guy look so damn smug for absolutely no apparent reason, unfortunately he didn’t look to intimidated by my stare and his smile only grew bigger, ‘fuck this guy!’
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Finally chapter 1 is out! I’ll try and make the next chapters a little longer but first I wanted to get the introduction out of the way!
<Just a little note! Reader is older then Aaron (you can decide by how much I won’t specify a number) I just wanted to make her closer to Kenji’s age who if i recall correctly is 20.>
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it's that time of year again: AK's 2023 Wrapped™. no, not the music thing. the december year-in-review thing. my spotify charts were deeply unfunny this time around because of all the game soundtracks i've been listening to. i don't know when these end-of-year posts became tradition for me, which is to say i could find out and i'm too lazy to check. the important thing, like lemon pigs or eating black-eyed peas, is that it feels like we've always done it. in the depths of winter, the warmth comes from the routine.
i won't beat around the bush about it: it's been a difficult year. it's been hard enough that it doesn't seem appropriate to joke about it or wave it off in favor of big, blog-worthy wins. times are dark right now. it behooves all of us to think deeply and check on each other. i hope i've been a decent friend to the people who needed it. so instead of scraping together a halfhearted victory lap, i'm going to go against my better judgment and be vulnerable.
it wasn't all bad. i got promoted to staff narrative designer this year, which is a fancy way of saying "you don't have to do time cards anymore." it's strange: in an industry infamous for volatility, my job has become one of the few things i can rely on to be positive. i believe my coworkers like me, which is good, because i like them. i feel not just included, but welcomed at work social events. i've developed a reputation for being a garbage goat on my writing team. "got an odd job? give it to AK. we can count on her to eat it." i had the chance to collaborate with someone i've looked up to for years, and i was delighted to find out how amenable they are to work with. there's work stress and there's work stress. everyone has challenging days, but it's not the crab bucket that voltage was, so it never seems that bad. i keep it in perspective. sure, these tasks keep me on my feet, but is it three cents a word, seven thousand words a week? i'll live.
i just wish it had all been good. it speaks to how my health has been that getting covid in february was one of the most mundane things to happen to me. i did everything right. i had all my boosters. i had paxlovid. i recovered well. still, it knocked me out of orbit in the psychological sense. i stopped getting enough exercise, though i'm building myself up again. i became neurotic about my stats. am i Getting A Good Grade In Blood Pressure? what about Pulse Rate? two months later, i came down with a strange, unrelated condition that was nowhere near as serious as covid, but made my life ten times more difficult. i'm happy to report i feel worlds better these days. even so, it was a bizarre time. bodies sure are curious.
later, my sink flooded my closet, and for a few days, i had to reckon with the idea that mold might destroy my entire wardrobe. all those irreplaceable pieces of character design that i've built my identity around since i was eighteen years old. who would i be without them? a wise person would say it was a lesson: stop defining who you are by your looks and find worth in your inner self. the mold is gone and my clothes are fine, but sometimes i have days where my lungs seem like they're sort of operating at ninety percent. i'm trying not to fuss about it. my checkups are normal, and i feel fine whenever i get out of the house for a while. maybe it'll go away when i move. because, hey, i can contemplate saving for a house now. how about that? remember when my mother and i were homeless? what a surreal landscape of highs and lows.
maybe grief is strange like that. in july, just when my health started to settle down, my grandmother died. it was a long time coming. she was 94 and extremely frail. i handled it well at first. it took the ensuing few months for the full weight of human mortality to sink in. before, i'd mainly been to funerals of warm, but distant old men, great patriarchs who loved but didn't relate to little girls. her, i knew. she was there when i was born. i won't go into detail, but it was not a peaceful passing, and it left problems in its wake. you don't live through that without taking a long, hard look at your life. everyone gets the invincibility knocked out of them sometime.
my mother is too disciplined to let it get the better of her. on the worst days of her life, the stove still got cleaned and the bills got paid. when people give her condolences, she encourages them to look on the bright side: she got almost seventy years with her. how many children can say that? but i can tell she's sad, and i'm not under any illusion i can help. i have to sit with it. there's nothing else for me to do.
under different circumstances, i'd have thrown myself into my work. i'd come up with some writing project to avoid thinking about it. i guess the dominant theme when it comes to my personal writing has been inertia: accomplishing nothing and being unsure of myself. if it's a growing pain, it's a rough one. i question my storytelling instincts so much, it's hard to get a story off the ground, let alone take it anywhere. i've hit a point where i find the conventions of the romance genre limiting. i still want to write about people in love, though, and i can't reconcile the two. why do some love stories get to be love stories and others are "just romance?" you could ask why it's "just" romance, and that's a good, but different conversation, i think. what are the great love stories saying about the human condition that i'm not? what is my work saying, period? not a whole lot, i'm afraid. i used to be pugnacious about writing from my id brain, about doing it for the fun of it. i worry that's not going to cut it anymore. i have to push myself harder. i also have to stop fretting about being perceived as pretentious for asking these questions.
it would be easier if i had more answers. i'm not sure which project to work on next, because they're all half-formed outlines with plots i don't know how to fill. i'm not sure whether it'd be weird for someone with my job to keep writing or posting fanfic, no matter how informally. i'm not sure what role physical intimacy should play in my writing, if any, because along with everything else, this was the year shame caught up to me. i'm not sure what happened there. i hope the "are sex scenes necessary" debate didn't get me, because i'd argue for their artistic merit any day. but when i do it, i worry that it's indiscreet somehow, like i'm revealing myself in ways that make strangers uncomfortable. some days i feel like going through my backlog of published work and tearing out all the sex-adjacent content like a power-mad inquisitor. i won't, because i'd regret it, but i spend a lot of time being embarrassed. it's embarrassing. i can't escape the feeling that people don't want to know that about me.
despite it all, it's still bad form to end on a down note, so i'll leave you with this: after five years, i finally got into physical therapy for my arm. i told my doctor the whole sob story and she put in a referral to a hand/occupational clinic. will it help? i don't know. i've tried so many things that haven't. but they're optimistic that i'm in better shape than i think - i've heard a lot of "wow, we get patients who can't even open a jar!" - so it's worth a shot. if it means i can draw a little more, it's something. i still make time for the picrew every day. ever onward. thanks for hanging in there with me, guys. you keep things interesting.
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So, you finally found all seven magical gems and completed the belt, what now- or: Return to Del and the Breaking of Narrative Structure
I love Deltora Quest- this much should be clear by now. The twists and turns, the adventure and intrigue, the carefully crafted world that breathes life through its pages with each new block of world building added to the tower. The books are the perfect length to pack an entire thrilling story in without ever feeling like you got too much from it, or not enough.
Something interesting about Deltora Quest is the formulas it falls into- formulas author Emily Rodda has expertly designed to work in tandem with the story.
Let me give an example.
Deltora Quest- or at the least the original- is a series that deals in the number seven, primarily because of the driving factor that forces our characters into action- the seven gems that form the belt of Deltora. The rest of the sevens come naturally after that- each gem needs to come from a tribe and each tribe needs a territory, and then each gem needs an Ak-Baba to take it to its own dangerous location with its own dangerous guardian. Seven gems for seven guardians, if you will. So, it seems almost odd that the series itself is not seven books long.
(By now seven is ceasing to sound like a real word)
No, Deltora Quest the original is composed of eight books- the last being Return to Del. The eighth book in a series devoted to the number seven- it’s almost a little odd. Return to Del is an outlier among its predecessors, and not just because it feels like it shouldn’t fit in the maths- it should. The equation does work. It has to be here. There needs to be a book for what to do after you find all the gems. Otherwise you have to bloat out Valley of the Lost and these are meant to be short kids books. You have a structure- you have a pace. You shouldn’t detour from it.
But Return to Del stands out mainly because it is a breaking of the expected Deltora Quest narrative structure.
Let me lay it out. Here’s how each book goes. A gem needs to be found. The trio heads into a new dangerous territory to seek it out in its deadly location. They face many perils along the way but none more dangerous (arguably) than the guardian who waits for them at the end of their journey. They face them on- near death experiences ensure and then the gem is found. Nothing should come easy to the trio- this is a quest of life and death. And so they need to face a series of challenges before they reach the final one- and the final challenge should be the most deadly of them all. The differences come from the actual story told- what territory they’re in and what guardian they’re facing. The audience comes to know this format with each new book read. They expect it. And it’s good that it’s like this. The somewhat repetition works in the story.
And then Return to Del comes along, whacks them on the head and says ‘hey guys we’re doing something new now’ and by god does it also work.
Return to Del is a wild race of an adventure that guarantees you only one thing upon opening it- and that’s that Del will be returned to. Apart from that, everything is wholly unknown to a new reader. The expected narrative formula is broken and now readers have no way of knowing where the story is going to go. There’s no gem to find. No new dangerous location to explore. No horrifying guardian to either face head on or avoid entirely (Looking at you Glus). What are the trio going to do? Who are they going to meet? Will the Shadow Lord actually show up?
It is a fitting end to a series that wants to keep you on your toes. The formula must be broken in a new and exciting way so that each new twist in Return to Del will take you completely by surprise. You cannot, and you should not, get to know what is coming next. Rodda wants to take an audience who, by now, thinks they are familiar with how her stories work and show them that all they should expect is the unexpected. She is doing nothing by accident. This is all part of her perfectly crafted world, and part of that world means you don’t get to know how it’s going to end.
In other words, you finally found all seven magical gems and completed the belt, what now?
Roddacember Day 22 | Return
I tried to do a book review for this about how Return to Del is a bit of an outlier in the first series- I hope you enjoy! I used to do book reviews for a paper but I’m not sure how much of the technique I retained
#roddacember 2022#roddacember#toshi's roddacember prompts#happy roddacember!!!!!!#emily rodda#deltora quest#return to del#book review
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"Lotte Works" Story Masterlist
Current OC stories and projects I'm working on - likely to be updated! Feel free to ask anything about anyone. Ok to reblog. Listed in no particular order:
MAIN
HAWK AND HANDSAW: In the summer of 1997, Saint Grieves drowns - and meets an angel. That angel calls to them, and gives them a vision - That they are destined to stop the rapture. Feeling blessed - and proclaiming themselves a savior - Saint takes up the mantle of a saint. Given just around two decades to save everything and everyone he's ever loved, Saint must fight against a failing world and the bubble that they live in, slowly closing in.
Set in Three Acts, during three fundamental periods of his life. Preteen years; Late teens, adult transition; The months before the end of the world.
Game project I'm working on. Massive WIP. Horror game - originally plotted as an RPGMaker, but I'm willing to adjust depending on what it needs.
TCDA (AWAKENING): Nick Deadmann wakes up at the end of the world, and decides it's the perfect time to have his indie girl coming of age! Come along with Nick Deadmann, G.T. Graves, Shark Sullivan, and "AK" to fight zombies and build friendships!*
*We are not responsible for any drastic tonal shifts you may experience.
No why would you think I stole this from a 10 year old minecraft machinima. I'd never do that. i'm innocent. and if i did i know better than the creator.
MM/RM (MOMENTUM MORI/RIGOR MORTISE):
Momentum Mori: Augustus Fer throws his life away, and discovers a conspiracy in the process.
Rigor Mortise: The world shifts.
Very extended work. Huge W.I.P. A massive world I am currently working on, set thousands of years into the future. I've been calling it "Post-Dystopian." Always willing to answer questions - it is a convulted story, and things are constantly shifting and changing. Near and dear to my hear. Find a mechanical god buried in the remains of your home today!
OTHERS
DOG TAGS: A girl and her sister fight against a werewolf.
A short story I'm planning to make as my entry into RPGMaker games/coding. Completed - not much to spoil!
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If you don't mind me asking, I'd be curious to hear more about FGO's writing having higher peaks than AK's. Do you suppose this is due to the different writing focuses the games have, or is it more of an inherent thing with their writing in general and AK is worse at doing peaks?
It's the experience gap IMO. Nasu's been doing this since the 90s, and in the occasion that FGO has him be lead on a chapter, the writing just pops off hard (unless it's one of the Year 1 events lol) The other writers often have brilliant flashes as well, though are a bit more inconsistent.
The strength of Arknights' writing is its crazy consistency. Barring the first 4 main story chapters, their stories range from 'Good' to 'Very Good' with only Ancient Forge really feeling like a mediocre event. Characters are three dimensional, likable, stupidly sexy and competently done. There's always a thematic narrative following the actual plot. They do SO much research when writing out their fantasy world because they mean it to reflect part of ours and that will create messages. Its writing choices are often brave or interesting, and require the reader to engage with it actively rather than through passive consumption. There is generally always meaning to what you're reading, which is helpful for attention when Arknights really likes to make horrifically long cutscenes.
If I had to try to summarize the weaknesses of Arknights' writing, I think I'd list the following:
Dialogue — You could really tell Kal'tsit was Hai Mao's Deviantart OC that he built Terra from scratch for. She speaks in overly-long, overly-complicated speech as a hint to how old and experienced she actually is, but a whole fuck ton of other characters speak that way too to a lesser extent.
Over time they've gotten better at creating unique voices for characters who engage in more natural conversation, but Terra remains a continent inhabited by philosophers.
Moving from Point A to B — This is a very simple and yet very pervasive problem in Arknights' storytelling: it's often easy to get lost in what's happening, because they're often not very good in telling the reader how they got there.
Occasionally too-frequent POV switches, complex movements from an extremely large cast without enough words dedicated to described movements (thus giving time to cement them into the reader's mind), HG even sometimes just brushes off the idea of scenes acting as connective tissue entirely and just barrage the player with happenings upon happenings like a history book.
Now I'm personally fine with this as I've been somewhat okay keeping up so far, but there's a reason why I often make posts that create a timeline or otherwise simplify certain events or arcs. I can see how this shit could get even avid readers lost.
Finales - Hypergryph is real brave when it comes to picking between easy narrative choices and more interesting, complex ones, but certain events love to chicken out at the grand finale. HG don't seem to have a lot of confidence in their audience finding someone they build up from scratch as cool, and HAVE to throw in someone explicitly stated to be cool. See: Maria and Margaret, Mountain and Saria, Lava and Nian (though personally I thought Who is Real was better about this), etc.
If Chapter 8 had Amiya's parents bail her out, we wouldn't have gotten this raw dialogue.
"I see you. You've fought the past Sarkaz kings. You fear them. You fear me."
"Face me, Deathless Black Snake."
___
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I'm so excited to have @tackytigerfic join me in the library today! I greatly admire not only their own incredible writing, but also the way that they cultivate and promote such a positive fandom space. I often find new and exciting fics and art from their blog and I just knew they'd be an amazing guest reccer. Not to brag on myself, but I was right! I loved the fic Tacky picked, and I think you will too!
I do want to give a heads up that this week's fic deals with heavier themes such as incarceration. The tags tell you at the beginning that in this fic Draco is incarcerated, and Harry is in auror training. This fic is also rated Explicit. Draco is a willing participant in making this fic explicit, but if the gray area of consent in a rehabilitation center might squick you, then this fic might not be your cup of tea.
That said, I now get the immense pleasure of welcoming Tacky to give their rec!
I’ve long been a fan of the Drarry Librarian, so it’s a real pleasure to be here today, taking part in the wonderful weekly fandom tradition of Happy Hour!
The Librarian has introduced me to so many new creations through their thoughtfully compiled rec lists, and I’ve always loved their Friends of the Library series. For me, fandom is first and foremost a community endeavour, and I love how the Librarian focuses on building and supporting that community.
I’m so excited to get the chance to contribute to this generous and encouraging fandom space.
I first came across Elaine’s writing through her delicious microficmay work jesus, etc featuring a starkly poetic series of linked fifty-word microfics. It’s a tense, steamy, lush fic featuring Charlie x Draco x Harry, and this snippet was the first piece I read (as you can see, these little micros often work brilliantly as compelling little standalones).
I was then absolutely blown away by a licence to kill. This is still a WIP with one chapter of two completed, but even that one chapter had me gulping it down and holding my reading bowl up begging for more. It’s such an enchantingly funny premise (hitwizard Draco whose struggle to get his kill licence renewed made me actually, genuinely laugh out loud), with a cracker of a summary that had me rubbing my hands together in glee: Draco Malfoy has a licence to kill. Unfortunately, it expired last Tuesday. OR: how Draco Malfoy learned to stop worrying and love form AK-86-G.
But despite the fact that I could rave about everything I’ve read by Elaine, the fic I’m here to recommend for Happy Hour is any day now. This is a 16k fic piece of political angst set in a Ministry-run “rehabilitation” centre for former Death Eaters. I am not sure how Elaine makes 16k fly past in one breathless rush, yet still creates something that feels epic in scale; whatever it is, it’s magical.
This fic was first recced to me by not one but two friends with superb taste — @corvuscrowned and @sweet-s0rr0w, who both told me I HAD to read it — but I was experiencing some Drarry burnout that meant I had been struggling with reader’s block. What I really needed was a fic that grabbed me by the throat from the very first line; a fic that brought me on a journey so intense and emotional that I couldn’t tear myself away; a fic so inventive and vivid with world-building that it made me gasp with admiration; a fic with such richly-developed, realistically flawed, truly lovable characters that made me root for them desperately. I got all this and more from any day now — it reminded me so forcefully of why I’m here in fandom, and how much I love this ship.
This is really a Draco fic — and he’s a brilliant, beautiful Draco, perfectly imperfect, very human, a bit of a dick in the best possible way. We pity him but also really, really want him to be okay. We recognise his flaws, while also seeing the best parts of him even as he struggles. The character development is really topnotch. It hit me right in my soft spots in a way that authors like @astolat and @letteredlettered also do — it’s a very incisive and moving Draco arc. Elaine is very, very funny, but there’s a thread of real sharpness and poignancy under the humour. This, combined with the exuberance and pace of the writing, makes her fics simply unputdownable for me.
Yes, both Harry and Draco are morally grey. Yes, the ending is ambiguous. Yes, this fic deals with trauma and grief and loss and hopelessness and regret. But it also has a lightness and a zest to it that makes a grim subject feel very moving. It takes such skill to write the prosaic rhythms of a life of incarceration, and the smallness of the world behind bars, and make them feel huge and searching. There is a lot of really intense world-building and plotty detail here—political machinations! Undercover spying! Superhot smut! Feelings puppets!—but for me the most magical thing is how Elaine brings beauty and tenderness to the grubby, tedious realities of daily life, and makes the reader fall in love with these two hurt, hurtful, damaged boys.
I loved this fic, and I hope you do too.
Read all the HP works by oknowiss here on AO3.
any day now by @oknowkiss (16,958 words, rated E)
Draco supposes he should be grateful.
The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway. Their stated objective is simple: to provide a safe space for low-tier Death Eaters and high-tier sympathisers to reconsider the entirety of their life choices. All guests–because no one is a prisoner here, the literature brags–are to be provided with shelter, food, clothing, and the guided support of a Mind Healer via a programme they call “ideological restructuring,” which is, of course, mandatory.
As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment!
❤️ Lots of Love and Happy Reading! ❤️
#friday fic rec#happy hour fic rec#happy hour#friday happy hour#tackytiger#drarry#the drarry librarian#harry potter#draco malfoy#thedrarrylibrarian#harry/draco#draco/harry#harry x draco#lots of love and happy friday#friends of the library
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Omega Radio for January 3, 2022; #294.
D-Nice: “Crumbs On The Table”
Lordz Of Brooklyn: “Saturday Night Fever”
2 Live Crew: “The Funk Shop”
Naughty By Nature: “Craziest”
Salt-N-Pepa: “None Of Your Business”
Yaggfu Front: “Busted Loop”
Luniz: “I Got 5 On It”
2Pac: “Holla If Ya Hear Me”
Pharcyde: “Oh Shit”
Chi Ali: “Age Ain’t Nothin’ But A #”
Cool C: “Glamorous Life”
Lords Of The Underground: “Here Come The Lords”
LL Cool J: “Hey Lover”
Monie Love: “Monie In The Middle”
Heltah Skeltah: “Operation Lockdown”
Kool Moe D ft. Chuck D & KRS One: “Rise ‘N’ Shine”
Notorious B.I.G.: “Party And Bullshit”
Coolio: “Gangsta’s Paradise”
Troubleneck Brothers: “Troubleneck Wreck”
Tha Pharcyde: “Ya Mama”
Digital Underground: “Underwater Rhymes”
Ini Kamoze: “Here Comes The Hotstepper”
Slick Rick: “Children’s Story (Knock 'Em Out The Box)”
Snoop Doggy Dogg: "It’s A Doggy Dogg World”
Outkast: “Player’s Ball”
Young Black Teenagers: “Tap The Bottle”
Mary J. Blige ft. Craig Mack: “You Don’t Have To Worry” (Puff Daddy RMX)
Biz Markie: “Spring Again”
Smif-N-Wessun: “Wreckonize”
Mic Geronimo ft. Ja Rule & Jay-Z & DMX: “Time To Build”
A Tribe Called Quest: “Butter”
Three Times Dope: “Greatest Man Alive”
Queen Latifah: “Latifah’s Had It Up To Here”
Da Youngstas: “Crewz Pop”
Skee Lo: “I Wish”
Jeru The Damaja: “You Can’t Stop The Prophet”
Main Source: “Just A Friendly Game Of Baseball (Bonus)”
Poor Righteous Teachers ft. KRS One: “Conscious Style”
De La Soul ft. The Jungle Brothers & Monie Love & Queen Latifah & Q Tip “Buddy” (RMX)
Akinyele: “Ak Ha Ha”
Bonus golden-era hip-hop / rap broadcast.
#omega#music#playlists#mixtapes#hip-hop#rap#golden era#Da La Soul#Man Source#Jeru The Damaja#A tribe Called Quest#Queen Latifah#Jay-Z#DMX#Biz Markie#Outkast#Snoop Dogg#Slick Rick#Pharcyde#The Notorious B.I.G.#Coolio#Kool Moe Dee#Monie Love#2Pac#Salt-N-Pepa#2 Live Crew
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I came across @theshipper47 's "Forgetting" and something crawled into my mind. We know Mahd Wy'ry is like a mixture of PTSD and Dementia. And Thena is getting confused more often. So i thought about Thena waking up at home, in hers and Gilgameshs bed and not knowing where she is. Gil is making breakfast or something and Thena is wandering around the house, confused, without any memory. Gil is noticing her weird behavior and wants to aks her what's wrong but Thena summons an sword, holding it against his throat and screaming at him, who he is, where she is. And it concerns Gil a lot.
If you have time and feel well enough to write something, maybe this is something you would like to write. Hugs and much love to you! 🖤✨
She woke in a strange place, with a strange feeling. The room was nice, but she didn't know why she was there. She was in a bed. It also felt strange.
It smelled of herself, and of someone else, too.
Thena pulled herself up, looking around the room. The bed was clearly slept in frequently, the sheets wrinkled and the mattress softened from age. There was a breeze coming through the window, making the thin white curtains billow. Wherever she was, the climate was mild.
She slipped a foot out of bed, and then stood. She felt fine. Her limbs functioned as necessary, her breathing was unhindered and she could feel the ebb and flow of Cosmic Energy within her.
She couldn't remember anything, though.
She was Thena. She was the Warrior Eternal. She was chosen by Arishem to be an Eternal assigned to Earth, and...nothing.
Thena approached the door, seeming to be hand carved. A lot of the home around her seemed to be hand crafted, or if not, then certainly fitted into the house to contribute to its comfortable habitat.
Thena listened to the world outside the door. The wind was light, and perhaps it was not just a mild climate but an arid environment in which she found herself. There was someone outside.
Thena breathed in, calling a blade into her hand--something medium in size and manoeuvrable in case her adversary was adaptable. She turned the doorknob delicately, careful of every rattle it made.
There was a man outside. He was humming to himself in the kitchen, preparing some form of sustenance. He had a smile on his face--it was a nice smile. He seemed joyful in nature, but his build betrayed him; he had the form of a Fighter.
Thena poked her head around the corner again, trying to observe more about him. His presence was not wholly unfamiliar to her, which was a surprise in its own right. She didn't know him. But she wasn't filled with adrenaline, her heart wasn't pounding with the thrill of the fight. In fact, it seemed quite happy and contented by his presence.
"Thena!"
She leapt, flying over to him and pinning him against the counter behind him. Her blade hovered at his throat as she held his eyes--deep brown and expressing every thought that ran through his head. "Who are you?"
"What?"
"I will not repeat it," she stated, still holding him back. But his body was totally relaxed. He wasn't even thinking about resisting her, and her questions doubled in her head. "Where am I?"
"Oh," his face fell, and she almost felt a little bad for him (when she was the one in some foreign land). He sighed, "Thena."
Her eyes narrowed; how did he know her name? She remained still, weighing the tactical advantages of her options. Her head tilted just a fraction at him, "who are you?"
He seemed pained by her question, but he smiled. It seemed to come naturally to him, despite the way she had his neck within her grasp. "Gilgamesh."
Gilgamesh: the Strongest Eternal.
His name was in her head. She knew who he was, at least on a conceptual level.
"Gil," he corrected himself, looking at her with those eyes again. There was so much in them she couldn't pull anything from them, like trying to read an entire story with all of its words piled on top of each other. "You call me Gil."
"Gil," she offered, as a test, and he brightened. How could a Fighter allow himself to be so easily read by the enemy? Did he have no sense of preservation? She backed up from him, just slightly. "You know who I am."
His eyes stayed on her, those multitudes - those many, many lifetimes - of words rushing through them again. They were getting clearer to her, though. "I do."
Thena took a step back from him, her hair moving against her shoulders. She was wearing some soft, breezy dress. She liked it, but it was a surprise to not be wearing the armour she had expected, or even the standard grey robes afforded to any Eternal crew.
"Are you hungry?" he - Gil - asked gently, gesturing to a chair at the table. "You can have something to eat. I just made some eggs."
Thena tilted her head at him in the other direction. She could feel the Cosmic Energy in him--could feel the way it reacted to hers and created this funny kind of pull within her. It was as if her body longed to be connected to his, by just a touch--a hand in a hand, a touch to a cheek. She eyed the chair.
Gil held his hands up, stepping away slowly, letting her watch his movements. "You were asleep for a while, this time."
This time. This time?
"Explain," she glared at him from across the table. She didn't like feeling as if this stranger knew things about her that she did not. She didn't like how calm he seemed. She didn't like that she still couldn't seem to get her guard up around him.
"Mahd Wy'ry," he stated as if it were a name, "what does that mean in your head?"
Mahd Wy'ry: punishment. Maybe that wasn't the word, but it certainly seemed to feel that way when she heard it. It was pain, and suffering, and agony. It was disease and decay, misery and malaise.
Thena looked down at her hand, as if the answer could be scrawled there for her to simply read. Gold flickered under her skin. "I...I have Mahd Wy'ry?"
Gil got that grief stricken look on his face again, and her instinctive reaction to remedy it bothered her. "Yeah...it's been a long time."
"How long?" she asked more directly. This little hovel - this home in what appeared to be an endless desert - had so many things in it she didn't recognise.
Gil didn't even blink, "it's been a few hundred years, now. I don't count the days--doesn't make sense for us to, y'know?"
She did know (for whatever reason). But something was reassuring about him not counting each day spent here with her.
With her?
Thena inhaled, preparing herself for the olive branch she was about to extend, beyond dispelling her weapon. Hesitantly, she turned her head, looking back toward the room where she woke. Taking her eyes off him still didn't make her feel that looming sense of danger, which didn't make sense.
Arishem: creator, danger. Deviant: enemy, danger. Ikaris: ally, danger.
Gilgamesh...Gilgamesh...Gil...there was a word there she didn't have.
She looked back at Gil, who hadn't made a single move. He was still looking at her, waiting for her every move to dictate the next step, both of them on some terrifying edge of something.
"You smell like that bed."
He blushed. Fighters weren't supposed to blush. "Well, it is ours."
Ours: yours and mine, shared. Thena just stared at him. There was absolutely nothing in her mind that was an 'ours' in any way. As an Eternal, very little was even hers, aside from her title, her mission, and her mothership.
"I sleep there," she stated, and he nodded. She wondered how she might react if things were different. Were she anyone but the Warrior Eternal, would she feel vulnerable? Would she feel betrayed, or perhaps intrigued?
But she wasn't even surprised.
She knew it was him, in some corner of her mind. She had sensed him outside the room. She had felt the pull to go to him, and she had known as soon as she saw him that he was the one whose arms had been around her in her sleep.
Gil moved slowly, pulling off the apron he was wearing - a pink, flowery thing - and setting it on the counter by the sink. "You eat something, sit and rest for a bit. I'll be outside in the garden. Just...just call for me if you need anything--anything at all, okay?"
Thena just watched him take the furthest route around her to the door. He was giving her space, and it did not seem to be in fear of the consequence for not doing so. He knew her in the same way she knew him (however that was).
Thena looked back to the sink, with a plate sitting next to it and a pan with eggs on the stove. She tilted her head at it. "At least hang it up."
"Huh?"
Thena kept staring at the little pile of apron on the edge of the sink. Something pinged in the back of her mind, like seeing a light through a thick fog. "It doesn't go there--hang it up."
Gilgamesh walked back over to it, picking up the garment that was obviously precious to him. He looked at her, and she sorted through the maelstrom of things in his eyes to pull out that one, louder, stronger, bolder word in them. "And how do you know that?"
Thena blinked, shrugging her shoulders before sitting down in the seat he had left out for her.
"You just do," he supplied softly, handing over a plate with some scrambled eggs and a little sprig of a chive on top.
Because he always wanted her to eat something green.
How did she know the apron hook was by the fridge? She just did. How did she know he was the man who slept beside her at night? She just did. How did she know that she trusted him implicitly--so much so that her own instincts and training knew he wasn't a threat? She just did.
How did she know it was love in his eyes when he looked at her?
Because she loved him too, somehow.
#Thenamesh#who's ready...to suffer?#with a happy ending!#because no one dies in this house#we can cry#but we have things to do#and these two#these two will always find their way back together#so long as I have them to write#their love is so sweet#I have spent my lifetime compiling words and phrases and expressions#to try and convey myself#and these two have exceeded my understanding of love#because he would do it again#on any planet#they invented 'in every universe'#thank you for the ask my love#it's very sweet#I hope you like this
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I know the end - Takatora Samura
Warnings: canon violence, blood, bruising, hurt (future parts) g*ns, Niragi (nothing bad will happen, in this fic or any) LMK if I missed anything!!
Authors note: Heyyy dude! so I wanted to start writing since I have more time now. This is a multi-part fic that I will do over the course of time. I hope you enjoy the read! This is the second fic Ive written, but more are coming. I have a few WIPs that Im pushing myself to finish. I hope you enjoy the read!
You were bloody and bruised. Stumbling into “the beach” you didn’t know what to do you were bleeding, that last game had almost claimed your and your friend’s life, Lily who you were currently dragging into this beach building. You then saw a group of people standing in the doorway. You couldn’t see very well due to probably having a concussion but you were pushing through, for Lily, you kept telling yourself. Once you got closer you saw the people standing in front of the building better. The first things that caught your eyes were their weapons, one of them and a shit ton of tattoos and a katana, and the other had an AK-47 on his shoulder with piercings all over. You were scared now.
“Who are you?” asked the one that didn’t have any weapons out, except for a pistol on his belt. You also saw a pocket knife on his ankle and other weapons.
“Please, help us “You struggle to get out the words but before you know it darkness had consumed you.
LATER
You were terrified where were you? Where were your weapons? Why couldn’t you see? Where was lily? And most importantly what were you tied down to? As soon as you start to move around the back your head gets pulled off and the stream of light poured in all too quickly. You looked around to see all your weapons had been taken off of you and put on a table far from your reach. You also see lily is awake and is also confused. You try to talk to her but your mouth is covered in tape for whatever reason. You give her a look that says “i don’t know what’s going on”
As the doors burst open and you see a man in beach attire stroll in like he owns the world.
You hate him as soon as he opens his mouth.
“Hello and welcome to the beach!” he says in an awfully happy tone that is so off-putting even Lily, who has never made fun of anyone, cringes and rolls her eyes.
“ Please untie our guests Niragi.” As the man introduces himself as the Hatter the man with the AK-47 starts to untie you and Lily. You are grateful to this hatter guy, you might not hate him so much anymore. Niragi is definitely a guy you want to keep an eye out for. He lingers so much it's annoying.
Authors note prt 2: please leave tips on how to fix any mistakes! constructive criticism is welcome!! have a beautiful day/night love, star 💜
#takatora samura#last boss#my husband#aib#alice in borderland#tw niragi#aib aguni#aib hatter#the beach
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Mid/Low/High: Great RPG Mechanics
#RPGMechanics: Week Four
I’ve lived through a lot of resolution systems. Original D&D’s roll over THAC0, Basic Role Playing’s roll under percentages, Tunnels & Trolls’ roll high with a bunch of dice & adds. Either you wanted to roll high/low over a set number or you wanted to beat an opponent’s total. Dice Pools would change that– allowing for new calculation and manipulation tricks. But basically more dice was usually better since you checked each die to see if it gave you a success or not. Then you compared total successes.
Sometimes these have offered additional calculations like botches canceling successes, certain results having additional effects, building a pool, or checking for a wild die. Fading Suns has its Victory Point system where you want to roll under a set value, but you want to roll the highest possible number under. That’s a system, no matter how many times I play it, which doesn’t click with my brain. It brings me up short every time.
One of the revolutionary elements of PbtA which doesn’t get talked enough about is the simple, closed set dice rolling. You have relatively low stats (usually -2 to +3) added to a 2d6 roll. It’s quick, easy math. And with that, at a glance, you can see which band your result falls into. It’s a constant which has a huge impact on play– the base simplicity means checking what a move means or doing things like support actions after a roll doesn’t feel onerous.
Apocalypse Keys takes that set of bands for success and tweaks them in a super interesting way, one which completely changes the feel of play. You have a miss band, 7 or less, which has a fail which is usually out of your control— the GM Hard Move. Then there’s a sweet spot, 8-10, where you get everything you want. But then there’s the 11+, which has you going overboard, doing more in a dangerous way, or giving yourself into temptation and darkness. It’s the ‘Monkey’s Paw’ result. It works so well for powerful characters and those figures constantly tested by the world.
That works, in part, because you don’t have fixed stats. Instead you spend X Darkness Tokens and roll with that number. You can push your luck, spending a lot of tokens and likely overdoing things. But the secondary economy comes from creating those tokens for yourself as that process can cause drama and demonstrate character. But if you end up with too many tokens, your character’s problems deepen.
That loop creates interesting choices— but simple ones which don’t bog down flow. It’s dynamite at the table for me– I love the calculations and the ability to really gamble with what you’re doing. I’ve been thinking about an Exalted-like PbtA hack, where some moves have a base version and a heightened version, the latter using AK’s bands.
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Random baby/kid AKJ headcanons I was thinking about instead of debugging an issue at work:
Cathy was a really bad mom at first (as depicted in AK:G) because she was a young, scared, impoverished addict in an abusive relationship. Over time, however, she grows to be at least a caring mother.
One night when baby Jason, like every other baby in the world, is crying non-stop, Willis tells Cath if she doesn't shut that baby up then he will. So she crawls out of bed, grumbling to herself about her hangover, and makes her way to his crib. All they need right now is a child endangerment charge. She lights up a cigarette and leans over his crib, and he immediately stops crying. He smiles at her, and reaches for her, and from that moment on, she does her best as a mom, and Jason still loves her for it.
Notes:
I'm a Cathy Todd stan and can do what I want.
Willis is abusive in my Arkhamverse but not in his regular 'verse. See? He was an asshole but not an abusive asshole.
I actually like Willis being canonically abusive in AK:G because I like to think AK!Jason has a unholy trinity of terrible father figures: Willis, Bruce, and Joker.
For a time, Slade is... I guess maybe you could call it fatherly? He mostly just reminds Jason that he saved his ass from that pit and Jay owes him. But he also kind of watches out for him when Jay first arrives in Venezuela. I have lots of Slade & Jay headcanons for another day 🙃
More below the cut!
Kid Jason hates going home after school because Willis always finds a reason to be angry at him. So, of course, one place he visits is the public library until closing time. But he also meets his elderly neighbor one day in the lobby of their apartment building. He sees her struggling carrying her groceries inside so he offers to help her. From then on, he helps her out here and there whenever she needs it. Sometimes she even gives him a $5 bill, which he hides under his mattress with the rest of the money he's earned from helping her. He doesn't do it for the money but he certainly isn't going to turn it down when she offers.
Sadly, he starts going straight home again after school when he realizes that Willis just takes his anger out on his mom instead of him, and he'd rather suffer than see his mom cry 😭
Notes:
Jay canonically watched out for his neighborhood in AK:G so I'm sure this included helping out elderly ladies.
* * *
One night Willis is in a meth-induced rage and he kicks (literally) little Jay out of their apartment building onto the sidewalk in the middle of a Gotham winter without a coat. Jay makes his way toward his school, or maybe the church they went to once or twice when Cath was trying to detox, or the public library... but all those places are quite a hike away in heavy snow. He's so cold that he finds a spot in the back of a closed corner deli. The back door to the place is propped open and there's heat coming from the kitchen. He curls up between the door and the dumpster, trying to get warm enough to make it... somewhere. When one of the cooks finds him out there he tries to run but the cook, who looks like he could play in the NFL, catches him and brings him inside. The old Italian man who owns the place is delighted to have him there. He gives Jay plenty of hot chocolate and complains about the weather and how the neighborhood is going to shit and other old man stuff.
Jay goes back there after school ever so often, and eventually he starts working there (breaking child labor laws of course). This deli turns out to be a mob hangout, and that's how he meets some of the guys in Maroni's crew, and eventually the boss himself.
Notes:
When Cathy comes home and finds Jay missing and his coat on the floor she freaks. After screaming at Willis she goes searching for her baby boy. She eventually finds him, and he gets lots of hugs and kisses.
I don't know if this one actually works since there are probably lots of places nearby that are open 24 hours that he could go to, but I don't care 😉
* * *
When 10-year-old Jay finds Cathy dead from an overdose he calls 911 like a good boy. Willis freaks out when he finds out (the apartment is full of drugs and drug paraphernalia, and he cares more about his drugs than his family) He's in the hallway outside of their apartment bellowing at poor little Jay, who's already traumatized and in tears from losing his best friend/mom when the elderly neighbor hears the commotion. She comes out and yells, "Willis Todd you leave that baby alone!" (she yells this a lot), then she holds & comforts Jay until the police/paramedics get there 🥲
#woohoo!#my posts are back in the tags!#arkham knight#arkham knight: genesis#jason todd#catherine todd#willis todd#baby jay#kid jason#arkhamverse#headcanon#relationships#my arkhamverse#bubs talks to herself about jpt#mine
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