Good Essays I’ve Read This Year

Death

After being in the Tartarus, Nico was really anxious, when he was alone he yearned for human connection.

In the day was easy, the Mediterranean sun heating his skin, the bright blue sky, holding Hazel's hand, in the night, it was hard, they weren't enough rooms, and he can't go to Percy nor Annabeth's, the little room they gave him was small, triggering the memories of the jar in Rome.

Because of that, he was, most of the nights, in the mast, the sea smell calming him, so different from the toxic Tartarus air.

In the nights, he and Leo started to converse, it was easy, and the boy's voice calmed him, he knew when Nico wants to listen and when to talk.

After Eros, Jason tag along too, and the three of them enjoyed the company of each other.

When Leo died, Jason and Nico became closer, sharing activities in Camp Half-Blood, talking about temples, gods, and aesthetics.

They searched together for Leo, and, when Jason took the decision to study in Pasadena, Nico almost enters the school too.

Later, when Leo, Calypso, and Apollo departed, a bad feeling burned in the chest of Nico, Will, worried, advise to follow his guts, but Nico can't, not knowing what was going to happen.

But he dreamed, the night Caligula killed Jason, he woke up, sweaty and teary, shocked.

He felt the death of Leo, but, thanks to the physician cure, he didn't see his soul been judged in the underworld, the absence of his life like a hole on his chest.

Maybe, he thought, when his father spoke about unavoidable deaths, he was talking about Octavian and Leo, but, perhaps the Fates decided someone of the seven had to die, the storm or the fire, and, by the trick of Leo, he had doomed Jason.

The son of Hephaestus went back to Camp Half-Blood, tired, his eyes gloomy, destroyed, as he had the same realization that Nico, he caused Jason's death.

Nico hugged him, whispering sweet words to the boy, talking about Elysium, and the promise to talk to Jason's ghost, at least to say goodbye.

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You’re Dick Grayson. 

You’re tortured, your identity is revealed to the world, and then you’re killed. Right after that, everyone you care about cries over you because they think you’re dead. Then your dad beats you up and tells you that you have to go undercover to protect the people you love. You know that people are going to be mad at you for it, and you’re not sure they’re going to understand why you’re doing this thing you really don’t want to do. 

You tell your dad that your relationship with him will never be the same because of this. You’ll never be “his boy” again. Your dad tells you it’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make. It hurts you almost as much as the next punch does. 

So you go do your mission. It’s hard because you don’t have your usual support system to help you get through it. All you have is a little device that you sometimes call your dad on, and then one day you don’t even have that because your dad stops answering, and you don’t know why. You ask him, no, you beg him to let you come back home because you did what you came there to do, and you don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, but more than anything, you just want to come home. 

To make matters worse, you’re confronted by the man who murdered you, and he happily reminds you of this all while trying to take kryptonite from you. He also shows you that the technology you’re using while undercover can control your body. Now you know you can’t trust anybody, including yourself. 

You decide, fuck it, and go back home because you’re sick of this undercover shit. More importantly, you don’t know if your dad is dead or if something bad happened that forced him to abandon you. 

When you get home, you find out that your dad has amnesia and doesn’t remember you. Your brothers spit accusing words at you for lying to them even though your dad is the one who forced your hand on the issue. One of them punches you because he’s so mad at you for pretending to be dead. You don’t know how to explain to either of them that you really did die. At this point, you’re not sure they would even care. 

You go to see one of your best friends next, and when you try to explain things to her, she tells you you’re a disappointment. She doesn’t understand how hard you fought your dad to avoid doing all of this in the first place. She doesn’t understand that people, including your dad, took advantage of you when you were physically, mentally, and emotionally fragile. You know she doesn’t know all of this, but it doesn’t matter. 

It still hurts. 

And then… and then there’s your youngest kid brother. Your Robin. Your heart stops when you see him because what? He’s alive? You’re frozen in shock, but your Robin isn’t. He flips into your arms and, suddenly, you’re hugging him. He’s warm and alive, and there’s no mistaking that this is your Robin. This is your kid. And your kid isn’t like the others. He’s just as thrilled to see you as you are to see him. You hug him hard enough to hurt, and your cheek is pressed tightly against his. It’s everything you wanted, and you don’t think anything can beat this feeling. 

You’re proven wrong when your kids says, “I missed you,” in a voice that’s incredibly sincere and full of pure, unadulterated happiness. 

I love you, you think while closing your eyes and gripping him even tighter. 

What comes out of your mouth is, “I know, kiddo. Me too. Me too.”

— Hamlet, act 2, sc. 2

First 'I love you'

Nico was running, holding Jason's hands, dragging the boy, hiding behind a trash can, in a dead-end.

"Leo's coming," muttered Nico, rising the shirt of Jason "We'll go to my father's castle and kill your soul if you dare to die."

"You're pretty when you're worried."

Nico sighed, pouring nectar on the wound, bloody and green, thanks to the venom of the dracaena.

"I love you, and you don't have to say it back."

The son of Hades froze, it was the first time Jason tell him that words and his heart ached because of the situation.

"Don't you dare think I would let you die."

Filling the mouth of Jason with ambrosia, Nico touched the boy's face, praying to Hermes, asking for a fast and safe trip to Camp Half-Blood.

"You know, I love you too, and your death won't make you leave this relationship."

"The son of Hades, in a romance with a ghost."

"Shut up and eat your ambrosia."

Seeing the wound, it looked less green and smaller, but they needed to be in the infirmary, soon.

"Superman got near kryptonite?"

"I love you, Leo."

Valdez was over Festus, smiling at Nico, looking gorgeous, with the sun behind him, his hair, curly and loose all over his face, tanned, the trickster smile.

"Nico said he loves me and would date even as a ghost."

"Don't make plans without me, I want a ghost boyfriend too."

"Nobody is going to die soon," growled Nico, helping Jason to climb the dragon.

When Leo held the hand of Nico, the young boy blushed, tighten the grip on the hands.

"I love you too, for the record."

"Leo," interrupted Jason "your hair is on fire."

SO TIRED OF DC AND THEIR ANTI-TALIA BS.

REMEMBER THIS, GUYS??

WHEN DC ACTUALLY RESPECTED HER?!

probably what I love most about young justice is how it perfectly conveys how fucking extra the bats are. like yeah that guy has gills and that guy’s a clone and she’s from fucking mars but y’know who’s an actual trip? y’know who’s an absolute goddamn nightmare?

Robin.

he’s not an alien. he doesn’t have any meta abilities. by all accounts he is a 13 year old child except his dad is fucking batman and he has all this custom built tech and crazy acrobatic skills and sometimes he just fucking vanishes without a word. like none of the team could even tell you what colour his eyes are and that is just the way he likes it.

the fucking bats man

i’ve been shot. stabbed. betrayed. beaten down and blown up. you think i’m going to give up now?

trick or treat!!

I hope you don't mind some belated Mobinos for your Halloween prompt 💙

"Ruby is going to owe me big time," Jugend bemoans from the bathroom sink. The tile makes his voice reverberate through the hotel ensuite to where Alte is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"You wouldn't miss this for the world," Alte counters, watching Jugend's reflection in the mirror as the man painstakingly applies eyeliner. It's a good look on him, making his eyes pop like emeralds. Alte can't find it in himself not to stare.

Jugend leans back to inspect the whole effect, tilting his face to and fro. "She insisted," he counters, plucking a stray eyelash from his cheekbone. "Her Halloween parties are always beyond extravagant."

Somehow, Alte doesn't believe hell or high water could have prevented Jugend from attending Ruby's party.

It's good to see him letting loose, though. They're wrapping up a tiresome week of mergers and deal brokering in New York City. Kanin's due to arrive tomorrow, but Jugend had decided to kick off the festivities a night early.

Entice club's annual party seemed like the perfect opportunity for Jugend to let his hair down — figuratively and literally.

Apparently satisfied with his make up, Jugend's eyes flick up to find Alte's, drinking down the full effect of his face paint. He'd elected to go with a skull, painting the hollows of his cheeks and the tip of his nose in coal black. The bright white bones extend down his décolletage, marking out each one of his ribs beneath the cut of his open leather jacket.

Alte had joked about colouring the scar over his lung into a vibrant red bullet wound, but the chastising look on Jugend's features had killed the suggestion in the cradle. Alte still thinks he cuts an impressive figure, brown eyes glistening from the hollows of his painted sockets, hair gelled into an acceptably stylish mesh. Perhaps not as adventurous as his partner, but definitely in the Halloween spirit.

Jugend straightens from his lean over the sink, corset slipping down his chest an inch, and beckons Alte closer. "Come lace me up."

Alte approaches dutifully, taking the green ribbons Jugend offers into his palms. The laces slide like satin through his fingers. Alte makes sure to pull the bindings tight between Jugend's shoulder blades before he ties them off neatly.

It has a wicked effect on Jugend's waist, pulling the length of his torso into a seductive curve that Alte can't look away from. It takes two attempts for Jugend to catch his attention long enough to ask Alte to pass him his witch's hat.

"So you like the costume, then," Jugend summises smugly, preening under the vanity lights.

Alte slides his palms down his lover's waist, admiring the feel of the leather and heat beneath his touch. Jugend stills beneath it, cheeks growing a little rosy in the mirror when Alte presses a kiss to his shoulder. "That's an understatement."

Jugend turns to face him, green corset laces bright in the mirror's sheen. The green eyeshadow over his lashes makes his bedroom eyes look all the more pronounced when he tilts his chin down to murmur against Alte's lips, "Hurry up and kiss me before I put my lipstick on, then."

Alte winds his arm around Jugend's hips, pulling their bodies flush.

"Yes, sir."

I’ve decided Damian doesn’t play the violin based on things like observation and information about period instruments.

Because it looks like that one appearance of a “violin” in his possession is actually a viol, or viola da gamba! They were incredibly popular during the Renaissance, though they faded into obscurity and instead the violin family ended up being more well-known (mostly because they were naturally louder and better suited to concerts than viols, which were meant mostly for playing at home for your family and friends). The only exception is the double bass, which is actually a member of the viol family! and still a popular instrument!

Generally, you would never play one viol alone — you’d play one of several different sizes of viol together, making up what was called a “consort” of viols. It looks like Damian’s is a tenor viol, which was the most popular size, and fit tidily in the lap!

Anyway the idea of Damian playing an instrument that’s designed to be played with others during a time in his life when he simultaneously craved acceptance and love and rejected any help seems very fitting and appropriate to me ¯\_(ツ)_/¯