#Jason hates every second he’s in the saddle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

batarella · 4 years ago

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I Don’t Hate You - Part 19 (Jason Todd x Reader)

FUCK WE’RE ONE CHAPTER AWAY FROM THE FINALE. AND I JUST WROTE 10K WORDS IN A NIGHT SOMEONE HELP. SORRY AGAIN FOR THE DELAY

WORDS: 10,619 FUUUUUUCK WARNINGS: FLUFF AND ANGST AND FLUFF AND ANGST AND a lil but of smut hihi

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

------

“Jason…”

“I knew you’d like it.”

That was an understatement. Your breath had been long gone. “This is Dame Bell’s.”

“I know. Biggest in the state.”

Dame Bell’s Carnival. It was renowned in the East Coast as one of the most visited, dating almost thirty years ago. It basically disappeared from the map after a horrific roller coaster incident that left eight dead. You’d have expected it to be covered almost completely in graffiti by now, but people would have broken in here ages ago. Not everyone knew where it was, since it was so far off town and only so many have heard of it at this age. It was barely even on the internet.

Not only was it extremely popular back in the day, but it was also said to be one of the most haunted abandoned carnivals there were.

You stared up at the clown’s head that served as the carnival’s entrance. There were turnstiles in front, but they were completely rotted off and barely held up at all. It was covered in weeds and vines, and it reeked like bitter iron. You loved it.

You saw Jason stare too long at the clown.

No. not today. You’ll make him forget about everything. You took his wrist.

“Come on.”

You walked into the entrance. Just from where you stood, you could see almost everything in store for you. For a park so well known, it held up so nicely and beautifully, like this part of the world ended by itself in its own little apocalypse. You had no idea where to start. There was a roller coaster, a Ferris wheel, a carousel, a wave swinger, carnival game booths, and even fucking bumper cars. Everything had that gorgeous antique look with brown rusted metal and faded pastel colors of red and white. A lot of the parts had fallen off, like the metal slabs that held up the carousel and the horses that littered the floor, but you’d take this any day than any working carnival there was.

“Jay, here.”

A small booth that stood near the entrance. Probably to sell merchandise. There were only so many of the gifts left on the stand, and they reeked. You picked up a dust-covered cap from one of the hooks. It had the name right on top. “Wear this.”

“You want me to have a head itch for the next fifty years?”

You felt something crawl up on your arm. Immediately you placed it back. “Shit.”

Jason picked a little travel mug made of tin sitting on the surface. “Man, these things are old.”

“You know when this was abandoned?”

“Maybe ten? Fifteen years ago? But this was built in the sixties. Can't imagine how people hadn’t completely destroyed it by now.”

And it wasn’t. It was magical. Better than Disneyland.

You walked down the main street and reveled at the sight all around you. You walked back, looking up at the taller rides that were so close to just suddenly collapsing. All you needed was a bag of popcorn and some cotton candy and you’d basically be in your own personal heaven. Your eyes landed on Jason, multiple times, and you never failed to miss his smiles and laughter.

“Carousel.”

You went over to the first ride and shimmied through the metal fence around it, making sure not to touch anything before you’ll have to come home with a tetanus infection. The horses were still intact, and they aged wonderfully with their color subsiding only so much. The metal parts of their décor had rusted, and above it was a roof painted in swirls and stripes, red and yellow before they had turned to a less appealing brown. There were also lights around that would’ve looked beautiful if lit up, scattered about the ceiling, the column in the middle, and the tent-shaped roof. You placed your hand on the metal bar that held up one of the horses.

“Ride one of them and I owe you dinner tonight,” you told him. Jason snickered and patted the horse’s saddle.

“I’d be surprised if these things don’t hallow out after three seconds.”

“It can't be that bad. I’ll do it.”

Jason narrowed his bushy eyebrows. “Are you fucking sure?”

“Yes.”

You tapped his arm as a bit of a ‘watch this’ sort of gesture. Good thing you were wearing jeans now, as well as a long sleeved top. You grabbed the metal rod and pulled yourself up, swinging your leg over a horse’s red saddle. You settled yourself in and felt around for any type of breakage. “See? Nothing.”

Jason’s slight smirk he often fought off with a frown showed through, and you kept your eyes on him. He went closer to you, grabbing the horse by the snout as if it were real. “I’m leaving you here if this whole thing falls off.”

“It won't.”

He looked up at the ceiling, which held onto the metal plates barely keeping up. “Get down from there, Y/N.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“I don’t want to.”

You leaned into the horse’s solid mane and swung your legs around.

And Jason, smiling at you, leaned into its head as well to get closer to you.

“You’ll have to pull me out of this.”

Disapprovingly, he looked elsewhere, but still kept himself close. “No.”

“Then I’m not leaving.”

“There’s other rides to check out. Come on.”

You held firmly onto the bar, smiled menacingly at him even when he was sighing with his eyes rolled and his hands stuffed to his pockets. Then he looked at you, met your devilish looking eyes, and clenched his jaw.

His hands grabbed onto your waist so tightly when he pulled you off the horse. They were firm, yet still gentle. And you held onto his shoulders even after he settled you down.

You took in the sight of him before he’d eventually pull away. And for a short, far too short second, he didn’t, and he just looked at you with his hands on your hips.

You flicked his chest. “Come on, asshole.”

-----

“These won't turn on.”

“Yeah, but we can ride them still.”

“What’s so good about bumper cars that won't even turn on?”

You settled yourself into a small, purple bumper car that had a number five on it. An antenna was standing right behind you and the seat tightened around your ass. It was made for kids. And you had to brush off a few leaves off the seat before you even touched it. Jason had his foot on top of the pod, and just with the slightest bit of movement, the car started to move.

“Get your own car.”

“You know what, I’d rather do this.”

The ring wasn’t that big, and there were only four other cars around you left on the field, so you had plenty of room to drive. Jason went behind you, grabbed onto the back of your seat, and started to push.

“This is more like it.”

Your laughter could be heard from the top of the Ferris wheel, probably. You moved around so easily with his strength, turning the wheel so you could go in all directions. You looked up at Jason, and suddenly you saw the seventeen year old pushing you in an old library cart.

Jason quirked his eyebrow up at you and kept going.

“Hold on tight.”

“Todd, whatever the fuck you're thinking, I don’t-AHHH!”

Your high pitched screams were the next to be heard. He pushed the bumper car all the way from one end of the ring with such strength that it propelled you to a wall. You heard his laughter, then your head bounced on impact and you clutched your chest. “Fuck.”

You stood up, glaring at him like a growling cheetah. “You are gonna pay for that.”

Jason backed away to the gate. “Come on, you hothead.”

Snarling, you raced to catch up to him. “I wanna go on that wave swinger.”

“Lead the way.”

-----

Your eyes just lit up at the hundreds of wires suspended from a large, circular UFO like structure that was held up by a large thick column. Jason could practically hear the ghosts of children speaking into your ear, and you didn’t look any less than loving every second of it. He went in through the gate with you, marveled at the magnificent sight. You went over to the swings and touched one of the wires.

“If you sit on any one of them, I’m not saving your ass from the ground anymore.”

“I won't. Because you will.”

“What makes you think I’ll get on that? I’d barely fit.”

You looked around. “There. That one sits two. And it’s wide enough to fit us both.”

“You're kidding me.”

“No. I’m not. Now get in.”

You went to the swing and sat at the farthest left to make room for him, even when he was clearly big enough to fill the whole seat by himself. You opened the latch and started pushing yourself back and forth. “Come on. Sit with me.”

Your smile. Your eyes when you did that. He wanted to rip that smile off of you before he’ll give into you so much that he’ll lost basically everything he promised to keep.

But he really, really wanted to sit with you on that swing, talk about everything for hours and let your head fall to his shoulder.

This was going to be the last thing you’ll remember out of him.

And he wanted you to remember him well.

Sighing, Jason went over to you, pinched your chin so lightly yet hard enough to make you flinch away. “Get your own seat.”

He saw your eyes glimmer. You stood up, opened the latch for him, then settled himself onto the seat made for two. His ass fit more than enough, but it was his body that almost fit the entirety of the swing. You took the one by his side and pushed your feet onto the ground so you’d rock back and forth. “Man, I wish this thing still worked.”

“We could go to an actual carnival, you know.” Jason kept his swing steady, but watched you the whole time.

“Nah. I like this one a whole lot better.”

He watched you with your hair flying to your back, and he saw you in that dark, secluded playground where he first kissed you. Jason looked away.

It was already past noon. And the sun, creeping out from just under the wave swinger’s top, looked down at the both of you like it was taking a peek of what went on.

“Y/N…”

“Hmm?”

He gulped.

“Did you really not have anyone else the whole three years I was gone?”

You lost your smile in an instant. He shouldn’t have asked. You looked down at your lap and stopped the swing from moving so much.

“No. I didn’t even talk to anyone. I didn’t want to.”

A part of him, the selfish part of him, that only ever wanted you for himself, reveled in the thought that he didn’t have to imagine you with another. That you were definitely, ultimately still his. But it was that part of him he wanted to bury deep along with all the other memories from before he died.

The other parts he didn’t like, and hated just as much, wanted to punch himself for ever subjecting you into that kind of pain and loneliness in the first place. “Did you?” you asked.

He looked up.

“What?”

“The last few months. Were you with anyone else?”

There wasn’t a doubt. As much as he didn’t want you to think about it too much, you deserved to know how much you still had his heart.

“No…”

You both looked down at your hands, keeping the silence. He wanted to hold you and keep you from thinking too much about it.

Thud.

A loud, painful crash of the rotting metal hitting the cement ground. Both your swings’ wires gave out, and he heard you shriek in pain while he hissed at the sudden impact right on his ass. “MOTHER FUCKER.”

“JESUS CHRIST, THAT HURT.”

“WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT IT BREAKING???”

“OH, DON’T GIVE ME THAT.”

You opened the latch and pulled yourself up, your hand soothing your butt and groaning in deep pain. “Fuck, my ass has a concussion.”

He broke the latch before it was even unlocked. Throwing the metal rod, he held onto your hand and you helped pull him up to stand. He rubbed his bitt. “Fuck, I must have broken my ass bone.”

“Your ass bone?”

Jason dusted off his pants. “I told you not to sit on anything suspended.”

“I told you not to sit on anything suspended.” You mocked his voice.

“Real mature.”

You playfully hit his shoulder. “Brush it off. Come on.”

He kept rubbing his ass the whole way out the ride.

-----

“If you lose on this, you wouldn’t be able to rise from the shame.”

“You're all talk, Y/LN. Why don’t you show me what you got?”

The first carnival booth game you went to was the one with all the bottles you had to shoot from a reasonable distance away. There was a pellet gun and some conveniently placed bullets right beside it. The bottles on display were broken, but you saw three others stashed underneath. You crawled over the booth, went over to pick up the bottles, then you started placing them on the shelves. It was covered in graffiti inside and the whole place was a wreck, but as long as you could have the bottles, standing, you were good to go.

Jason got the pellet gun loaded before you were done placing the bottles.

“I have an idea,” you said. “Since you're just so good at this, stand all the way over there.”

“You insult me.”

You snarled at him, and he gave you that cocky smirk when he walked all the way to the other side of the booths, yards away from the targets. You got out, raced to the side, and gave him a thumbs up.

Jason didn’t even have to look twice. He shot two bullets, and with each one, it was followed by breaking glass.

You rushed back to the booth. He only hit two of them. “Nice. How bout the other one?”

Jason walked back over to you, took your hand, then placed the gun on your hand. “You’re gonna shoot it.”

“Me?” you snorted.

“Yes. Time I teach you how to aim.”

“I know how to aim, you fucker.”

“Not with a gun.”

“How’s that any different from darts?”

He rolled his eyes and stood aside. You felt the gun in your hands, weighed it with your fingers, then you held it up and pointed it at the bottle.

“You’re holding it wrong.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I’ve never held a gun before in my life.”

He started picking your fingers and placed them on the right spaces on the handle. “There. Then aim.”

You held it up, looked through the tiny scope on top.

“Fire.”

You pulled on the trigger, but you couldn’t hear the sound of glass breaking after it. The pellet went straight through the tent.

“Dammit.”

“Here.”

You instantly smiled when Jason went behind you, gently held where your hands were holding onto the gun and leaned in so close that you could feel his breath in your ear. You could feel his chest against your back. and even when you were definitely surprised, you kept your mouth shut and enjoyed every moment of it.

You turned your head slightly to the right, and your lips were so close to touching. “Like this?”

“Keep your eyes ahead,” he whispered to you.

You felt his eyelash tickle your cheek, his back press closer, then you slowly looked forward. Bang.

The bottle broke on impact.

“See?” Jason let go of you too soon, but his voice was still that low, sexy husk. You placed the gun on the table and turned to him.

“Wanna see if you can beat me at ring toss, asshole?”

“You wouldn’t be able to land a single one, I guarantee it.”

You went to the next booth, with the rings you threw to hit the bottle’s heads. You landed three, and Jason landed all five. It wasn’t with his help this time, and you constantly threw the rings at him when he gave you that annoying little laugh. Then you went to the next one, with darts on what used to be balloons and was just a plain wooden board against the wall, then another with the spinning wheel.

You haven’t had so much fun since… well, since him.

-----

“Okay. There’s no way we can even get anywhere near that thing.”

The roller coaster, for small time carnival, looked enormous. And its entire foundation and main support structures were all made of old, rickety pieces of wood nailed together just to keep up the roller coaster’s deep plunge right at the start of the ride, the high rise that came after it. And most of all, the loop. The wood had already broken in just below that high rise, forming a large hole big enough for three people to stand on top of another. And if they were to get anywhere near that place, they’ll be crushed.

Still, you went to the safest place you could. At the bottom most part of the ride where people got in and out of the car. Jason went with you and sat at the very front by your side.

“We used to love roller coasters.”

“I know.” Jason smirked at the memory. “Remember that one we rode three times?”

“I do. That was amazing.”

Your smile was so beautiful. He didn’t move away even with you being so close to him now. And he let his gaze linger on every detail on your face. It didn’t matter that you caught him. You were the first to look away, looking forward at the long walkway made of hard wood.

You leaned back, kept your silence. And he allowed himself to enjoy that silence when he settled in as well.

“I know you don’t want us to get too close and all…” you said.

He shifted in his seat. “I just-“

“I know. I know,” you let out a deep, long sigh. “But… I don’t…”

Jason leaned forward and let his arms rest on the handrail. You looked away, at the whole structure of the ride.

“We can be a bit closer... If you want.”

You looked at him. “Do you want to?”

Knowing you’ll need the comfort, and what you wanted deeply with you outrightly telling him, he licked his lips and smiled. “Yeah…”

And the way you looked into his eyes, when you felt that glimmer of hope he once never wanted to instill on you. Just when he thought he should never had gone soft for you the first time, he leaned closer.

He stared at your face when you leaned in and placed your head comfortably on his shoulder.

He breathed, closed his eyes.

You were just how he remembered.

And as much as it ached him, at how your face was looking, staring into nothing as you buried yourself deep into his neck, he turned his head and rest his nose on your hair.

Another step. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you even closer.

You didn’t say anything, even when he placed his lips so subtly at the top of your hair or even when he inhaled your scent like he so often does.

----

“Alright, stop sucking your own dick.”

“You’re just annoyed ‘cuz you know there’s no way you can beat me at this.”

“I unlock doors with just my foot, jackass.”

“Try kicking your way out of this one.”

The Hi Striker. The one where men overflowing with testosterone would challenge their testosterone filled friends to a test of strength. The hammer was just by the large bell you were supposed to hit. And it was heavy to just lug around.

“You sure you don’t wanna try it?” Jason said.

You cocked your hip and just stared at him. “I’m not getting my hands dirty with that thing.”

“Fine. I’ll do it. Don’t get too turned on.” He winked.

“Oh, shut up.”

Jason grabbed the sledge hammer with far too much ease and you rolled your eyes. The meter that shot up to the sky in front of you was filled to the brim with dirt and rot. But you could see the different measures written on it. The bottom most one called you ‘TOO WEAK!’ and the top most one screamed ‘WOWZA!’

Jason brought the hammer behind his shoulder, assessing the bell with his other hand.

“Just hit it already,” you groaned. Jason shot you a dirty look and held the hammer with both arms, holding it all the way over his back.

You could see his shirt rise from just before he swung it over him.

The man must have had a fucking eight pack.

Fuck.

The bell practically broke on impact and the hammer was smashed into two separate pieces. You saw the meter shoot up, all the way to the highest measure. The bells started to ring continuously until it eventually broke down and died.

“See?”

“Shut up.”

You hid your face from him before he could take notice of just how flustered you were at the sight of him. Jason ruffled your hair, then you pushed him away laughing.

----

A small, kiddie roller coaster that went around in a tiny little circle. There was barely anything other than a small hill that it went over. The small yellow car that could only fit one of you in it was sitting near the entry way. And it looked clean enough to sit on. You raced to it and took a seat before Jason could get to you.

“This is the least dangerous ride we’ve come across.”

“I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.”

Your knees were up so high from the compact space on it. It could only have seated one or two kids from the look of it. You then placed your legs on top, just to give you some air. “You know,” Jason said, walking over to the controls. “What if it still works?”

“It can't possibly have the electricity.”

“Well, there’s the generator.” He pointed to the far side where all the wires let to. “It could still work.”

“You sure it won't blow up?”

“We’ll see.”

He stood at the control panel and started fiddling with all the buttons and levers.

You just sat back, looked up at the sky. He loved watching you when you were in that trance, when you just grew silent and looked around you forgetting there was anyone around you at all. He watched you close your eyes, then he went back to the controls.

Jason almost leapt. “I think I found it.”

“Found wha-“

The generator. It started running. The lights around the small coaster also turned on, some you hadn’t noticed. Fairy lights being held up by four poles at each of the corners, crossing over the other to form some sort of web. You felt the little car start to vibrate. You were both marveling at just how magical it all looked. The engine was noisy as fuck, but the fact that it was running at all, even after so many years, it was nothing short of amazing.

“You ready?”

“Oh, I’m ready.”

Jason pulled on the lever, then the coaster started moving.

Barely. It was so slow it was laughable.

And you did laugh. So hard you had to keep balancing yourself up right as the car continued to move in a circle.

“You’re doing great!”

You flipped him off with both hands, then Jason clutched his stomach at the look on your face when the coaster went over the tiny hill. You held your hands up, feeling the air go through you. You closed your eyes, demanded another round, then you sat back and waved your arms around, pretending to scream when at the hill. Jason felt his cheeks hurt at just how much he was smiling.

Dear God, you were beautiful.

----

The fucking Tunnel of Love.

The murky water looked absolutely disgusting. And if you even touched it you’ll be sure to barf out your whole stomach. You and Jason never went to one when you were together. You both thought it was stupid.

But an abandoned tunnel of love? You were intrigued.

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go in?”

“I don’t want to go in, but I wanna know what’s inside.”

You tipped the boat over with your shoe. “There’s no other way than the boats. And we’ll have to paddle out way through.”

Jason looked around, found a broken pillar standing right by the waters. And with his bare hands, he tore apart a large wooden beam. Enough to hit the bottom of the water.

“Come on. Don’t wuss out.”

“I’m not fucking wussing out,” you scoffed.

“Then get in.”

You tapped your foot on the boat again. There was water on the seat, and you groaned at the though of it touching your ass. You stepped in, balanced yourself on top feeling the boat start to rock about.

Then when you settled in, moving your ass away from the wet spot as much as you could, Jason went inside with his makeshift paddle.

“Onward.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And the boat went forward. You held onto the sides, choking a laugh when his paddling actually managed to work. The tunnel had a heart shape painted onto the entrance, and you shifted uncomfortably when you noticed him looking away from you.

You should have thought this through. There was nothing. And absolutely nothing inside that you could see.

“Bright idea, Jason.”

“We’ve never been to one. How was I supposed to know it was dark?”

“It’s fucking called the Tunnel of Love, you ass.”

Jason purposely hit you with his elbow, and you nudged him back, almost tipping over the boat. You leaned forward, chin on your hand, as Jason continued to paddle through.

“You’re not gonna help?”

“I thought you were the strong one, Todd. And where am I supposed to get another paddle?”

You heard him grunt at you. You couldn’t see anything that went on around you at all. Not even a single light was on. There must have been a few attractions you would have seen inside, but they were all turned off.

Your back shot up when you thought you saw a figure of a person standing nearby.

“Jay-“

“Animatronics. That’s what I wanted to see.”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you actually fucking scared?”

“I don’t get scared.”

“I can feel you shaking.”

“You get scared way more than I do.”

You heard him chuckle, so you felt around until you could feel his chin so you could pinch it. “Driving here!”

“Whatever.”

You leaned forward again, eyes focusing on anything you could make out. The tunnel was a long, narrow river, and you still couldn’t see any sort of light coming your way.

You sat back, groaning. You felt Jason’s arm brush against you when he leaned back as well. “My arm’s tired.”

“Great. How long are we stuck here for?”

“Calm down, we’re not stuck.”

“FUCK!”

A wet, soggy puddle, streaming right up your jeans, all over your ass.

“What?!”

You breathed, pursing your lips and feeling your arms shake. “I sat on the SHIT WATER!!”

You wanted to choke him that minute when the boat started to lightly rock. His laughter started to echo throughout the tunnel, slapping his knee and throwing his head back despite you not being able to see.

“You. Are so. Dead.”

“Why me?!”

“You wanted to come here and now my ass smells like SWAMP.”

He took a long minute to laugh at you again. And you maintained your breaths, tugging onto your hair as you leaned forward to catch your hair with your palms.

“Oh, man. I miss this.”

You slightly chuckled.

“Hey,” he said. You could feel he was smiling, but his voice was lower.

Then, you felt his hand land on your leg.

You slowly started to lean back. Your shoulder touched his chest. He was leaning towards you. And you couldn’t see it. Fuck, why can't you see it.

You breathed in and Jason thumbed your knee. “Calm down.”

You shrugged, but when you felt his breath against your ear, you got even more frantic than you were.

The darkness never felt so well when all your other senses had been heightened. You could feel his breathing, coursing through the skin of your cheek. You turned your head towards him so you could feel it against your mouth. Was he going to kiss you?

You felt his breath spike. His hand still on your leg, trailing up to your thigh. You were so close to him. You just knew it. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been so mesmerized by his scent, the feel of his hand sparking your body and your thoughts. Everything. You didn’t have to see him. And you could tell how beautiful he was so close to you.

Your hand touched his chest.

And at that, you felt him pull away.

You swallowed the rock in your throat, then Jason started paddling his way out.

Not long after, you were met with the sun.

“Finally,” Jason said.

And, as if everything was magically left behind with the darkness, you both went onto the next ride as if absolutely nothing happened.

----

“Where are you, motherfucker…”

Good thing he found the generator for this. Otherwise the whole place would have been as dark as the tunnel.

And a Hall of Mirrors wouldn’t be any good with it being so dark.

Neither of you were even shaken. This was one of the most haunted places within a 100-mile radius off of Gotham and you were going into a maze of mirrors like being lost it in wouldn’t traumatize you for the rest of your life.

But really. It was just a small tent with mirrors placed strategically enough to confuse the normal person who had no more than basic knowledge on how reflections work. There was nothing to be scared of.

He walked around, seeing the thousands of himself looking back at him, mirror after mirror like an endless abyss. “Y/N?”

“Good luck finding me, asshole.”

It was all just him. The tiniest one at the far back didn’t even have a face anymore. Jason walked around, letting his palm trace where he’d been through. He swore he passed by that specific mirror before. He was running in circles.

“Jay-“

“Hey!”

There you were, looking right at him from the mirror on the left. He knew it was a reflection immediately and turned the other way. He heard your footsteps, your laughter. And when he turned to a corner where he thought you’d gone to, you weren’t there.

“Where the fuck did you go?”

“Just admit you’re a noob,” you said. And he turned to follow your voice.

“Keep talking, babe. I’ll find you.”

“You won't.”

This time, he actually did find you. And you didn’t seem to notice.

He smirked thinking of what to do. “Where are you, Jay?”

A short whistle, and your back shot up and turned to his direction. He ran all the way to the other side before you’d catch him and hide behind one of the corners. Jason had to keep his laughter in. Fuck, he felt light hearted. Happy.

If he had a mop, he’ll even fucking chase you with it.

Jason went over to a narrow hall where his reflection looked back at him. And he saw his face. How his cheekbones were up, how his lips were curved up to a smile. And his back, standing straight and not crouched over like he usually does. His skin looked brighter. And he looked… well, happy.

He hadn’t looked like this in the whole six months of his second life.

He looked away from his reflection.

And saw you staring right at him.

“There you are-“

Just as he ran, his face bumped into the cold, hard glass.

The sound of your laughter had never been so animalistic and borderline evil. He rubbed his nose, felt the buzz on his face. He shook it off and made sure his jaw hadn’t been rearranged.

“I swear,” he heard you laugh even more. “It’s funnier the third time.”

Yeah. So what if it was the third time he ran to a mirror?

And when he looked around, really listened to where your voice was coming from, he caught you with your back turned to him, and he was ultimately sure you weren’t just a reflection. Slowly. Carefully. He crept up behind you.

You caught his eye on the reflection. You stood frozen. And he winked at you before grabbing you from behind, trapping you with his massive arms.

“I WIN!”

“STOP- AHH!”

He squeezed you tightly in his hold and tickled your neck with his nose. Your screams, mixed with your giggles and squeals, it only made him want to hold on tighter. You tried to wrestle him out of it but you’d be stupid to think you could possibly contest his strength. “JAY, I CAN'T BREATHE!”

You laughed again, and when he loosened his hold, you turned around. You both continued to laugh, until it eventually mellowed down.

His arms didn’t leave you. He didn’t want to. He wanted to keep holding you all day until his own arms would give out and you’ll have to worm your way off his grip. Then he looked into your eyes, eyebrows arching up, looking at him like he was the stars and the skies and the whole universe. You were his whole universe.

You were his happiness.

He gulped, pushing your hair behind your ear. Your hands were holding onto his arms, pulling him so close to you.

You.

You. You. You.

He wanted to run himself over with a bus. Or a truck. Or a fucking plane.

Now, because of him, who he is, he didn’t want to believe that he only had one more day left with you…

You.

He closed his eyes, and you were the first to pull away.

But then you took his hand.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Looking around. At your reflections, how you both looked to the eyes of someone else. With you holding his hand and him looking flustered and happy. He wasn’t going to see himself like this ever again.

-----

The afternoon had come to a close.

On the lowest car of the Ferris wheel, which stood right at the center of the whole park, you laid your head on Jason’s shoulder and had your eyes closed. You were going to wait it out until sundown. It didn’t matter how late you’ll get home. You only had so much time. You wanted the best out of it.

Jason was slightly moving the car back and forth with his weight. And it calmed you. Much like a swing. He leaned back against the seat and watched the sun fall to the earth along with the trees, the vines, the bushes that formed all around him.

You moved so slightly just so you’d rest on his chest. “Where are we getting dinner?”

“Probably just from one of the diners we’ll go through.”

“Okay,” you smiled, inhaling into his shirt. “I had fun today.”

“Me, too.”

You pulled your head up just so you could see his face. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t unhappy either. You hand went up to his chest, and he held it, tightly, and just before you thought he’d pull away again, he didn’t.

“Y/N…” he sighed. “I know what you’re trying to do.”

You backed away slightly. “What?”

“You…” he sighed and swallowed his throat. “Are you trying to change my mind?”

What?

“What do you mean?”

“All this. I didn’t want to get close and now…”

“You said this was okay.”

“I did, but… I didn’t at first,” he let go of you and leaned forward to rest on his knees. “You wanted this to happen, did you?”

You scoffed, looking at the grass around. “You’re mad that I somehow manipulated you?”

“I’m not mad-“ he tugged on his hair. “Y/N, this is only gonna hurt so much more at the end.”

“You think I’m doing this because I wanted to brainwash you into having me back?”

“I never said that.”

“Yes, you did.”

You placed your arm on the arm rest at the side, and Jason looked the other way as well. “I’m sorry.”

It hurt. This bastard has hurt you so many times over the course of your life. and you couldn’t believe it, but you outwardly offered yourself to let him hurt you again. Not once. Not ever. You never thought that at one point, you’ll ever let anyone step all over you like this and still want him more than anything else in the world. You're letting him hurt you at this point. And you hated it.

You knew bit the insides of your cheeks and breathed in.

“I knew I’ll never change your mind. Trust me. I’m not expecting anything good to come out of this when it’s all over.”

Jason looked at you, but you kept your eyes away from him.

“If you think I don’t love you enough to handle not being able to hold you or kiss you when you're around, that’s where you're wrong. I know this is going to hurt me. So much more than you think. But I asked for these three days with you so I could finally get to have you, all of you, even when it won't last. Trust me, I’d rather be hurt the rest of my life than to not spend a single day with you in it.”

Jason let go of a hard hit of breath through his mouth, biting his lip, staring out into the void the way he did when he wanted to hold himself back. You, on the other hand, were calm.

He thought you didn’t change. That you were still the sick, spoiled bitch from high school. He thought you’d do anything to get what you wanted no matter the consequences.

Well he was wrong in that.

The one thing you could point out as the biggest change you ever made for yourself was just that. When he died, it dawned on you that the world was never going to give you everything you want, and there would be nothing you could do to change that. You couldn’t talk to anyone, threaten anyone, or throw a tantrum until life gives you ultimately the thing you yearned for. Jason was that thing. You wanted him so bad and he was the one thing you couldn’t have.

And since then, you didn’t care any longer. You accepted things the way they were. You no longer worked your way up just to get what you wanted no matter how sneaky or foul-played. You just sat back, let things go through you. It had been that way since he died.

And he thought you were selfish enough to try to change his mind for your own gain.

“If you don’t want to be with me, I’m not about to change that.”

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you.”

“Want. Can't. Won't. Shouldn’t. It doesn’t matter,” you scoffed. “You made this decision. You wanted me to stay away.”

“It’s to protect you-“

“I know. I told you, I’m not arguing with you on that.”

Jason finally caught your eye, and when you looked away, he took your hand. You faced him but you shook him off.

“If you don’t want to get too close, then fine. Have it your way. I’ll handle it.”

You were staring emptily at the overgrown patches of grass. Jason was staring at you, at your face. You didn’t look at him. You crossed your arms. You felt your heart burn, the glass that housed your chest shatter like broken pieces of knives piercing your through your flesh. Your breaths were cut short. But you didn’t feel any tears coming. Not when it was about something you’ve already expected. You settled for feeling his shoulder touch yours and went with that. That was the most you’ll get out of his warmth.

Fuck this. Fuck everything. Fuck-

Jason’s hand grabbed your chin, turned your head swiftly to his direction and leaned in to meet your lips.

And no.

No. It wasn’t in your head.

His lips were real, soft, yet firm. Chapped yet luscious. He pressed himself so hard against you that you almost fell back.

You held his wrist, trying to pry him away, but he wouldn’t let you. And it was the only bit of effort you made to stay true to his word. You leaned forward, pushing him back as well. Oh fuck, his lips.

You shut your eyes closed and when you solely focused on him, his kiss, all you could see was the two of you in that playground, in that parking lot, in the Boner Aisle, in your bed, in his bed, in the gym, the cafeteria, on a date, or in the rooms of abandoned houses.

A year with him, it all came through.

This. This was what you missed more than anything else. Your arms circled his neck. You wanted him even closer. You didn’t care if the car started to creak and move about. You grabbed his shirt, pulled him tight, and when he pulled away to breathe you leaned in again.

You started tugging at his hair. You wanted his warmth. All of it. You wanted every inch of him. You couldn’t believe you were here with him again. Three years was a long time and you hadn’t been touched, let alone be kissed by another. You were pulling and pushing each other so slightly, with enough force for it to be so passionately wanting but enough to hold back before everything got too heavy.

But it was hot. Your hands on his skin, his chest so tightly against yours. Jason started holding onto the back of your knee and shifted you up so your legs were on his lap. It wasn’t enough. you needed to be closer. You moved so your ass was on his crotch, your legs swinging off his left side. He held onto your thigh and squeezed. Yes.

Then his other hand was on your neck, pulling at your hair. You let him squeeze just enough to make you gasp, and he felt your hand trail down his chest, just over his shirt. And you were right. He did have an eight pack. You could practically feel the hard ripples through the fabric. You breathed in again and he kissed your cheek, your ear, blew in just to make you shiver, then he bit onto your neck.

No. You want him back on your lips.

You pulled him back. Your noses were smushing against each other and your foreheads aching at the force, but you didn’t care. He didn’t either. You could feel his sadness, his months of being a cynical, cold-blooded sub-human. But you didn’t see that at all. He was the most human you could possibly think of. He was just as beautiful within as he was on the outside. And by god, was he beautiful on the outside. Your hands trailed down his face, his eyes, his cheek. Every part of him was perfect. And through your chest you could feel his own warmth, and it matched with all the warmth his emotions rubbed off on you. Everything was gold. He was gold.

Fuck, you could go on forever. You wouldn’t know when to end if you were asked to simply admired every bit of his body, mind, and soul.

“I love you…” you whispered, and he showed that kind of love back when he sunk his teeth into your neck. And you moaned, and you tugged on his hair so much that he hissed, before going back to your lips.

----

The sky was dark by now, and you were straddling his hips.

You probably couldn’t do it here. It was way too dangerous. For all he knew the wheel could break and you’d die before getting anywhere out of this.

But he really fucking wanted to. He wanted all his frustrations to let go through you, feeling you, making you feel good. He missed you so much, he swore he could never find this anywhere else. The things you do to him, and the things he desperately wanted to do with you. He squeezed on your thighs and trailed your hand up your ass. Fuck, did you get thicker?

Yeah. You did. You didn’t have the body of a teenager anymore. You were a fully grown woman and by all the gods he didn’t believe in but was probably up there, he wanted a taste of that. He wanted his hand to go down your pants and make you feel so good just by his fingers, make your back arch so much that you’ll cry out his name in this forgotten forest. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. He let your shirt go further down until he could see the top of your bra.

You were so beautiful.

Jason felt you grind against his pants, and he winced at the pain that went with his awfully hard cock. Three years dead, six months being borderline deranged, this was probably the hardest he’s been since then. He kissed down your chest and let you have at it with his neck.

Your hand was going down. Further down. And when it reached his cock, your teeth biting into his skin at the same time, he threw his head back.

Fuck, he really wanted this.

He hadn’t connected with someone the way he was connected to you, holding you so tight you were practically one with him. He never wanted to let go. He wanted to make love with you all night and never let you out of his sight. Of course, he wanted to be with you. More than he wanted anything else.

Jason opened his eyes, barely, still feeling the rush push through his skin and nerves.

No.

It was all too much the moment you unzipped his pants.

“Y/N…”

And just like that, it blew away. He wanted you again. That one moment where the asshole in him took over, it pushed you off of him. You immediately stopped.

No.

Fuck no.

You looked at him dismayed; eyes wide. Your cheeks were red but from the way you were looking at him now, he wanted himself dead all over again.

You scoffed, eyes looking like you wanted to murder him, then you slid off his lap.

“You're a jackass, you know that?”

He never looked at himself with so much shame. Jason couldn’t even bring himself to look at you. but whatever it was he was thinking about himself right now, it couldn’t possibly half as much disgust as you had on right now.

You dusted off your clothes, fixed your hair.

Your face was blank, and you were holding back so many words he knew would hurt him all the more. He deserved those words being thrown at him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry…”

“Just stop. Let’s go home.”

Jason wanted to drown in his own blood. You left the Ferris wheel before he could even stand up. He walked behind you, barely catching up. And you went into the car without waiting for him to get in.

The whole ride home, you didn’t spare him a glance. You even managed to fall asleep.

On the way to the carnival, he didn’t want you to waste away what little time you had with him falling asleep in the car. He wanted you to sing with him, feel the wind through your hair.

But he just let you sleep. So you could go through this day as quick as you could.

----

You were already awake when he parked across the street from your house.

You got out first, and he followed behind. He thought you’d walk straight to your door like you often did, but you walked so slowly, as if you were counting your steps.

How many times is he going to hurt you before you’d actually grow tired of him and willingly leave?

But even then, despite everything, you swallowed and stood at the first step, looking at him with your arms crossed. He stood in front of you and looked up at your eyes.

You weren’t even mad. But you looked so broken and disappointed. It was infinitely worse.

He didn’t want to hurt you any longer. That was what he’d been doing for three years. And he didn’t even have a say in that. Now that he did, he’s doing it all over again. Hurt you wen you deserved the kind of happiness you brought him. For once, he didn’t care if the world was so shitty to him. It was, because it gave him you, and it was taking you away in the worst possible way.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not mad at you.”

He graciously nodded and swallowed. “Thank you.”

You looked down at your feet. The way you did when you were about to say something you really didn’t want to say.

“You don’t have to come see me tomorrow…”

He stood back. “What?”

“I know how you think. It’s true. This is only going to get worse.”

No. That wasn’t what he thought.

Not at all.

“But I-“

“I know. I only asked to spend some time with you, and I can't thank you enough for these two days. I’ll have them to remember them by. But if it hurts both of us too much, then I understand.”

No. This couldn’t possibly be the last time he sees you…

“Y/N, this is going to hurt us either way-“

“Maybe you were right. Maybe I was trying to change your mind. I was too selfish to notice.”

Jason bit on his tongue.

“I’ll keep your promise. You never have to worry about me again.”

You gave him the saddest, most heartbroken smile.

“I’m letting you go.”

Just one day ago, he would’ve taken it as a pass and moved on.

But all that time of telling himself he still had one more day. Even when it was just a single day, it was already too hard to forget.

It was like when you were dating, the first few months, and he’d desperately try to make sure every free minute he had, he spend with you, and every hour that he wasn’t was an hour wasted. When he’d do everything to change his schedule just to squeeze in even just a few minutes with you. it was like that. All over again.

And it should matter, especially when it was just a single day of not seeing you anymore when he’ll have to get used to that for the rest of his life, but he’d already conditioned his barely sane mind that he still had One. More. Day.

He was going to prepare himself tomorrow for that, and let you go as smoothly as you could to make it just a bit less painless than it’ll inevitably be. He didn’t prepare for that today. He was going to be conscious enough to note that your laughs will be the last. Your smiles will be the last. Your teases, your jokes, your hold on him. That it will all be the last time. And he was going to memorize every bit of it, keep it in the deepest parts of his mind, yet not so deep that he wouldn’t be able to recall them anymore, anytime he wanted. No, he wasn’t prepared. He’ll always remember today, but he didn’t think it would have been the last. He didn’t think it would be.

“Y/N…”

“Jay…” you whispered.

He breathed in through his nose, keeping his cool before he’ll ultimately break down.

“Can I kiss you? Just one last time?”

You smiled.

Oh, that hurt, broken smile that was painful to see, yet so beautiful to watch.

You leaned in.

Your lips were barely pressing closely to his. It was just a light, subtle touch. Not at all like a while ago at the wheel. But it was all the more powerful. It shook him, made him feel like he was trembling in his feet. He held your waist, and you gently held onto his face.

This couldn’t possibly be your last…

But it was. With all the promises he made to himself, with how much he was supposed to prepare for how hard he was going on himself when this was over. And now, it actually was.

You pulled away, letting your forehead linger for a brief minute. It might have been a long time, but it didn’t matter. It was too short. Far too short.

“Goodbye, my love…”

Your voice tore him apart. Your love. That, he will always be.

And then,

You left.

Jason was lost, standing at the side of the road with nothing much to hold onto anymore.

He was alone. Indefinitely.

-----

Oh, love.

How people love to hate on love.

It’s the cause for life. For human beings to litter the earth. It’s the cause for the most beautiful things in the world. Art. Poetry. Passion. It’s all by the work of love. The most precious, vital thing to work with that brings up the best out of your talents. You could only do so much with your work if there was love put into it.

And it’s also the cause for destruction. For wars and battles and bloodshed. Love can be as ugly as it was beautiful. Love was everything the world has ever seen. It is happiness, distraught, anger, disappointment, guilt, and trust. It was, quite literally, everything there was.

Love, as it embodies everything, isn’t the opposite of hate. In fact, it most often causes it.

You don’t hate something when you aren’t in love with another. And it can be on the same exact thing or person or whatever it was. It can be on the opposite, but they almost always coexist. You can't hate on darkness without loving light. You can't hate on how your hair looks that day without loving it on another day. It can be caused directly, or indirectly. The two things don’t have to be related. But the whole point of love existing was that hate was also around.

Jason knew that to the heart.

When he told himself that all this was to prepare you, to let you down as gently as possible, he never took into account how it’ll ultimately affect him. He thought, sure, let him enjoy it while it lasts. And knowing him, knowing the moment he opens his heart to something, it’ll never close back, Jason never thought that by the end of this, at the abrupt end that wasn’t supposed to be, it’ll tear him apart.

The Red Hood murdered a whole block of Falcone’s men, a whopping fifty bodies left cold on a single night.

Batman had been on his tail the past week, just when he left you, just when the killings got so much worse. But he was quicker, angrier. He no longer had the remorse that was bits and pieces left over his consciousness, not like before.

He hated the world so much, he’ll kill it if he had to.

The days he promised you, he knew it was for you, for your lasting happiness. He knew it’ll hurt him, ultimately.

And well, he got what was coming to him.

It was so much like that time you broke up, when he’d lay on his bed, do nothing but stare into nothing, at a wall or the floor, when he’d starve himself just because he didn’t have it in him to move, when he’d let the thoughts of you floor over his mind so much like a painfully aggressive dam breaking into the sea, that he let the tears seep through. And when he wasn’t sobbing, just merely letting the hurt walked through so slightly, it hurt all the more.

Except now, instead of letting the pain hurt himself, he lashed it out on all the sick people in Gotham.

Just a week passed, and he’s killed more than a hundred goons and henchmen.

THE MURDEROUS RED HOOD

NEW GOTHAM VIGILANTE? OR VILLAIN?

RED HOOD: FRIEND OR FOE?

News articles on almost every form of social media. It was everywhere. And there was no doubt you saw it. Saw how he really was.

Jason told you to move on. To let him go. To forget about him. You asked if he wanted you to let him go, and he said yes.

He never once said anything about him moving on from you.

And frankly, with his stubbornness almost identical to yours, he never wanted to.

He was going to deal with the pain, spend the days with you no matter how hard it was ultimately going to be, and he was going to let himself go through all that just for the sake of your happiness, to give you the life he owed you. He promised you the world and he had no plans in walking out from that promise.

This was why he never wanted all this to go through.

Except,

When he made all those promises, he let himself break just one, teensy bit.

At 6 pm, just when you finished all your classes, the Red Hood was on the rooftop of the building across from you. And you never noticed. And even if you did, he didn’t know.

He watched you get out of the gates and wrap yourself in a sweater despite the humidity. Your head was down, and it was quite a walk to your car. He continued to follow you all the way down the street.

When you cross the pedestrian lane, he grappled to the next roof.

When you went through an alley, he made sure to keep a close eye, hand on his gun.

When you almost got run over by a man in a bike, he wanted to shoot his brains out.

You looked so perfect, so delicate, so beautiful in the most obvious ways. He just couldn’t help it.

Jason was always going to be here for you. No matter the dirty promises he told to keep. No matter how much he’ll try to suppress it.

Jason was always, without a doubt, going to love you for the rest of his days.

When you got to the car, he thought you were going to drive off home immediately.

But standing on top, where he couldn’t see you through the window, you were stuck in your car and you didn’t drive off.

Jason went to the opposite building and adjusted his optics so he could see through your car window.

You were crouched over the wheel, face buried in your hands. You were crying. And even if he couldn’t hear your sobs or clearly see the look on your face, he could see the frustrations, how it must have been hard to wake up and go through your day like nothing happened and be forced to forget about the one you loved. It was hard for him to do that himself. Why the fuck did he expect that from you?

And just like that, another tear fell down his face, masked over by his helmet.

He never left, and you were there for a considerable amount of time. You should’ve gotten home by now. But you cried, and continued to do so.

You fucking lied. You didn’t let him go.

Fuck him. Fuck him for hurting you like this. Fuck him for ruining everything. Fuck this and fuck the world.

Fuck his promises.

-----

“Girl, get those to the new shelf. And be careful not to smudge these with your sweaty ass palms.”

“Jeez, Ms. P, okay,” you faked a smile. You got the cart from her desk and pushed it onto the new set of shelves they placed near the old ones.

You only worked on Saturdays, and you should have thought about how much more it was going to sting coming back to work, seeing the library after everything that had happened and pretend you couldn’t see Jason wherever you go. And, of course, it was different this time. Because you no longer saw him and grieved, knowing the most precious thing in the world was gone. It was different now because that boy you followed around through the aisles and shelves was still here, being one of the most wanted criminals in the city who kept his distance from you by choice.

And you don’t know if it should make you feel any better or infinitely worse.

This time, you definitely had to try to move on. Perhaps it would be easier? That’s what you’ve been trying to tell yourself all the time. All those days of going to school and work and forcing yourself to forget the last four years of your life, you kept the reminder that this was his choice this time. He was alive. He knew you wanted him and still kept yourselves apart.

So yeah, maybe it will get easier.

Just not now.

“Y/N, I’m going. You close up.”

“Okay. Drive safe.”

Ms. Peterson left the room, but left the door open. The room was empty, and all the students had left for home. It was still fairly bright, and you still had a whole cart you wanted to shelf before you head back to your apartment.

Keeping your hands busy. It was the best thing to do.

You let yourself get lost into your trance, let the emptiness of thought consume you, make you believe nothing was going on when in fact, so much was happening around you. You kept the silence and worked your way through it. You didn’t cry. You didn’t let anything do a number on your exhausted mind.

You focused on the books. Placed them on the spaces. One. Two. Three.

You were lost in yourself. So lost in fact, that you didn’t notice someone at the door until you heard a knock.

“We’re closing up,” you said, thinking it was the janitor asking why you still hadn’t placed the chain lock.

“Need help?”

His deep, husky voice, so low and chilling, it sent you into a frozen, plunging spiral.

Slowly, you turned around.

Jason leaned against the doorway with a light brown leather jacket hugging his shoulders. He smiled at the sight of you, subtly so that it grounded you even more.

“What are you doing here?”

He started walking up to you, up to your cart. Jason turned to you and sighed.

“I promised you one more day.”

Yeah. He fucking did. You choked in your own breath.

“What do you say? For old times sake?”

He took a book from the cart, and just like he did almost four years ago on the first day of your library detention sentence, he held out his hand for you to shake.

You smiled.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

ONE. MORE. PART.

everyartistwas-firstanamateur @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive @lucy-roo roseangel013bf @ loxbbg reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiazannoylinglyaries @knightfall05x @l-horizon11 flowersgirl02

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood #batarella #batarella fluff #batarella angst #i don't hate you series #i don't hate you #jason todd x reader series #jason todd reader insert #batarella series

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dopescotlandwarrior · 5 years ago

Text

Bluegrass-Chapter Nine

A special thank you to @statell for all your help and wisdom

Previous Chapters on AO3

Chapter Nine

Claire was on her second day of coaching Runner about his air transport to the upcoming races. So far, all he wanted to do is race her. She was getting nowhere. When the answer came to her it was inspired and she smiled wickedly.

Later, Claire was in Runner's stall as he chowed down on fresh hay. She had 8X10 glossy pictures of some very fine, and fast horses. She taped the pictures to the back wall at Runner’s eye level and waited. She stroked Porcelain. Runner started throwing images at her of him beating these horses.

“Who is that horse? Oh, that’s Sham. He is favored to win the Champagne Stakes.” She threw him an image of Sham beating him.

“This little beauty is Angle Fire and she will beat you too.”

The hay was forgotten as Runner paced, getting more worked up by the minute. He sent an image of him crossing the finish line and the other two horses were way down the track, laying down. Claire laughed at the image and grabbed his face.

“The only way to race them is to ride the airplane. So be a good boy and don’t act up.”

She saw the last image of the sleeping competitors and Runner’s big finish several more times that day. He was stuck on racing them to the exclusion of every other thought. So easy, she thought.

Rupert’s giant king cab waited at the bottom of Claire’s stairs. Jamie stowed her cases and jumped in the front seat listening to Rupert explain what happened to Runner that morning at the airport.

“I’ve never seen a horse more eager to board a plane. He dragged the handler up the ramp and backed into his flight stall in under ten seconds.” They were laughing while Claire looked out the window with a slight smile. I’ve got your number Runner, she thought.

When Nick was picked up, Jamie got in the back seat to pester Claire and slapping his hand made Rupert look at her in the rearview mirror.

“Yer always pretty lass, but with yer hair down like that yer beautiful.”

Claire blushed and thanked him, and Jamie knew Rupert must be under her spell to make such a comment. He kissed her hand and felt like the luckiest man in the world.

Through the flight to New York and for the rest of the afternoon Claire tried to get Nick's attention. She wanted to talk about actually riding Runner as a partner and having input into the way he ran the race. After dinner, she pulled his arm until he stopped and looked down at her.

“Nick, you promised we would talk about techniques I can use on Runner…to help him make decisions, to actually decide for him.” Her voice got smaller as she completed the sentence because Nick was staring at her with irritation.

“Sure Claire, just pick the race you want to lose and go for it. Make him dance like a ballerina if you want, I don’t care because the race was lost as soon as you interfered.”

The blood drained out of Claire’s face and she looked at him like she didn’t know him. She felt humiliated the way he talked down to her and hated his heavy hand in the decisions about how Runner would race. Her anger and hurt feelings made this conversation impossible to continue so she took off toward the hotel.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Nick? Do ye really feel that way, are ye blind to the bond they have?”

Jamie’s face was purple with his rage as he fired off questions to the insufferable trainer. He wanted to rip his skin off for the way he talked to Claire, but found himself looking at a puffed-up self-anointed king of the trainers and his energy to hurt the man blew away.

“I won’t be needin your services anymore Nick, yer fired. I’ll have a ticket delivered to yer room and ye won’t be runnin into Claire on yer way out, by chance or otherwise. Yer done here, now get away from me.”

Nick looked at Jamie like he had lost his mind. He had trained racehorses for twenty years, no one knew this sport better than him.

“It’s a fluke that horse has won what he has. You put a rider with no history of racing on him and bet the farm on a retarded Thoroughbred that got lucky at Iroquise. He’s gonna kill your little girlfriend when he gets twisted up at the gate. Maybe she won't be missed. A guy like you must have a dozen waiting to take her place. That's on you, Jamie. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Jamie drew back and landed his fist in the jaw of one ex-trainer who went down like a sack of potatoes. He was out cold, so Jamie pulled a one hundred dollar bill out of his pocket and asked the Maitra d’ if there was someone to drive him to the airport.

“Tell him to listen for his name so he knows where to pick up his ticket home.”

Jamie’s thighs were burning when he raced back to the elevator and stepped off on their floor. He wanted to cry for Claire and tried to imagine her disappointment. The room was dark, but he could hear her sniffling in the corner. He knelt in front of her and waited, hoping he could fix this.

“I am so sorry mo chridhe. I don’t even know Nick anymore and never expected this. I didn’t know Claire.”

“I knew something was wrong when he never worked with Runner like the others. Nick was never serious about Runner, or me. Just keep him away from me, please.”

“I knocked him out, right there in the lobby, just after I fired him. Paid the Maitra d’ to drop him at the airport.”

Claire touched his cheek, “we have lost someone I felt was a valued member of the team. Runner needs a trainer, so what do we do now?”

“If you had one hundred trainers to choose from, all ages and backgrounds, varied experience with winners, which would you choose?”

“That’s easy,” she whispered through her tears, “I would pick the one that knew the science and didn’t fall back on his excessive, unproductive time on the track. I’d pick the one who used science to win.”

Jamie let Claire rest while he met Air Horse One at the airport and watched his goofy horse almost drag the handler down the ramp. Runner was looking around, nostrils flared, ready to explode until he saw Jamie and whinnied hello. Jamie asked the handler for a few minutes with Runner and felt the big colt pull the stress out of him.

“One more leg of yer journey my friend, and you get dinner and a rest.”

The handler took the rope and Runner resumed dragging him to the trailer where he ran inside and waited for the cross ties to clip to his halter. Jamie looked at Runner and shook his head, wondering why he was in such a hurry.

The alarm seemed ear-splitting at five o’clock in the morning. Claire pulled her riding clothes and boots on while Jamie stood under a hot shower praying for strength. Runner was still percolating high octane energy making Claire laugh at his head twisting in every direction looking for Sham and Angle Light.

Claire looked at the training schedule Nick left behind in his unconscious haste to leave. She read through his scant notes about Runner and compared them to pages of notes on the other horses he worked with. She felt her blood boil and realized she had lost faith in Nick’s training slamming the book closed. She looked at Runner.

“Let’s see how motivated you are today big guy.”

Jamie lifted her foot and held Runner while she adjusted her stirrups before turning into the track to warm up. Thirty minutes later she rode up next to Jamie who was deep in a conversation with a gentleman she didn’t know. She smiled and lowered her goggles. She circled in a canter before she let him go for a one and half mile breeze. Runner stretched into his stride, but Claire could tell his heart wasn’t in it today. She always got this feeling during training. If there was no one to beat, he often asked her why he was running.

When Runner was cooled down, Claire jumped off and secured her stirrups.

“I’ll take care of that Doctor Beauchamp.”

A young man, around twenty she guessed, pulled the reins over his head and smiled at her. “Mister Fraser hired me for your groom while you’re in New York. I will be here before you every day and hopefully, this big guy will grow to like me.”

Claire was stunned. She managed a smile for the pleasant man and offered her hand, pulling her glove off quickly.

“What is your name sir?”

“Ha, it’s weird enough you’re a female jockey, and you’re British too, that’s awesome. Oh, my name is Jason Campbell,” he said shaking her hand.

“Thank you, Jason, very pleased to meet you.”

The boy blushed and walked Runner toward the stalls and wash racks.

Claire walked to Jamie and the man he had been talking to. Both men stood while she sat next to Jamie pulling off her second glove.

“Sassenach, I’ve been talkin to Michael here about needin a trainer for Runner. He watched yer ride and asked me questions I dinna know. Perhaps you can supply the answers.”

Claire looked into the intelligent and questioning eyes of the man named Michael. He was twenty-something with an easy manner about him. Claire surmised this was just a trackside conversation and settled in to answer his questions.

“Do you hand ride him during races, like you did in today’s training?”

“Yes. I carry a regulation whip, but I’ve never needed to use it. Thankfully, because I don’t know how. Runner wants to win, so I let him.”

“Your body position is very different from the norm. I saw that you crouched and ducked your head in the last quarter mile, otherwise your …um…position was different. Why do you ride like that?”

“Let me help you ask the right question. I appreciate your gentlemanly tact sir but what you want to ask is why is my ass so high off the saddle and my hand holding his mane?”

“The Royal Veterinary college studied this position and the monkey crouch finding the open position kept the body weight forward and lessened the burden of the horse moving through space. They used…”

“Forty-five GPS monitors to watch the jockey’s body as the horse moved under him.”

Claire’s eyes went wide knowing this man was familiar with the study. “To be honest, it is my natural position, I mean it happened naturally. No one would show me how to position myself so that’s what I did.”

“No one demonstrated your position in school? How do they keep the doors open?”

“I am a veterinarian. I never went to jockey school, I don’t know any jockeys. I ride hunter-jumpers.”

Michael stared at Claire like she was speaking another language. “I have never heard of something more preposterous, however, I know it’s true, I can feel it from both of you. How utterly remarkable you can compete with world-class jockeys. It’s impressive.”

Yes, well, my wanting to take part in his race suddenly turned our trainer into a jerk and Jamie fired him. I know Runner is ready for the Champagne Stakes. What happens then, when there is no trainer to get him ready for the Hopeful Stakes in three weeks?

“That’s why you don’t use a crop, you don’t know how. The way he ran today I doubt you’ll ever need to.” Michael pushed his chair back so he could see both Jamie and Claire.

“If you don’t mind, may I ask how far you intend to go on the road to the derby?”

“We are going to win the Kentucky Derby sir. It’s Jamie’s dream, then I go back to being a vet.”

Michael sat back in his chair and rubbed his chin thinking. He knew this was a serendipitous moment in time, and he wanted to be a part of this remarkable story, no matter what.

“Can I come too?”

Claire looked at Jamie like she didn’t understand and then smiled at Michael with a questioning face.

“I graduated with a Master’s degree from the University of Michigan last year. I want to train Thoroughbreds and make a name for myself while I change the standard of whipping a horse over the finish line. I have prayed for a miracle and this is it!”

Claire looked at Jamie and laughed.

“I have a proposition for you both, may I explain it please.”

Jamie who had remained quiet for the past twenty minutes looked the man in the eye, “you have our attention, sir.”

“Let me train them, Mister Fraser. Half of my graduate curriculum was preparing me for a horse like Runner. Claire should be an active partner in the race. He seems to run all on his own, but he won’t always. When you start the super six he will be exhausted and whatever means you use to make it fun won’t work anymore. That’s where Claire takes over the race and keeps him going, guides his leads around the turns, holds him back for the first half mile and then lets him go. I want to come with you and train him. If we get to the derby I will write his story, Claire’s story, and mine. It will be a best seller and the world will never forget his name.”

“That’s quite an offer Michael, how do you eat in the interim?”

“Books and magazines.”

Claire recoiled at the thought of eating books and Michael noticed her reaction.

“No, I don’t eat them. My family is in publishing. I am sole heir to Pearson Publishing. I spent some time on the track five years ago and fell in love with Thoroughbreds. I don’t need a paycheck, but I want first rights to publish this amazing story.”

Michael had worked up a sweat in his excitement talking about training Runner. Jamie and Claire were speechless and got carried away with his excitement. Jamie could not untangle all the facts that had just poured out of the man’s mouth but when he looked at Claire, he knew the decision was made.

“Do you have track time this afternoon Claire?”

“Yes, five-thirty. What should I be doing?”

“An hour of breeze, then the short track to work on his leads. Tracks in America are run counterclockwise so he will make the best time on the right lead along the straight track, and change to the left lead around the turns. He isn’t changing leads in the turn and it’s costing him time. “

Claire stood up, “will I see you there?”

“You will see me everywhere Doctor Beauchamp.”

“Well, alright, but enough of the formality. He is Jamie and I am Claire.”

They checked on Runner who was sending Claire images of beating Sham and Angle Light. She laughed and kissed his nose before catching up with Jamie.

Claire lathered under a hot shower and thought about the race tomorrow. She no longer had the fear of death before a race. Her fear now focused on losing the race because Runner was out competed, or God forbid, she made a mistake that cost them the race.

With a big fluffy towel on her head and another wrapped around her body, she sat at the vanity and rubbed lotion into her skin. She could see Jamie behind her on the bed, grabbing some dream time while he could.

He was breathtaking. Easily the most handsome man she ever met. Her eyes swept over his chest and stomach, dipping into the region that brought her intense pleasure and she felt her heart quicken. She pulled the towels off and fluffed her hair as she made her way to him and purposely made little movement on the bed so he wouldn’t wake. She wanted time with his body. To look at every inch of him and touch his secret places.

She kissed his balls before sucking one into her mouth, lightly holding his penis up to watch it get hard. She had no will power to tease. She needed to come and ran her tongue up his shaft and circled the head. She heard him moan and slowly pulled him into her mouth pushing him as deep as she could before she choked. She felt a strong hand grab her hair and force her down on him and then back up until he reached for her and dragged her up on his chest. She could feel his cock pushing against her core, threatening her sanity as he bit her nipple and then feasted on the whole breast.

Jamie was energized and hungry for her. Pulling her to his chest before he rolled off the bed. He kissed her away from the bed and spun her back to his chest as he bent to place his hands behind her knees and lift her, spreading her legs so she was wide open, her pussy hovering above his dick. She reached her hands above her and locked them together behind his neck.

“Look mo chridhe, look at what I’m doin to ye.”

They were in front of the vanity and mirror and she could clearly see her body, wide open and descending on him.

“Jesus Christ, that is hot.”

She was completely dependent on Jamie to move her, set her pace, and open her legs. Claire was breathing hard, staring at the coupling reflected in the mirror. It was something she could never see without his assistance and the erotic view made her pant and moan. She was begging him to make her come when he walked back to the bed and lifted her off of him setting her down on her knees and pushing her head to the bed.

Jamie watched his cock slide into her body and shuttered at the site. When he pushed harder his hips slammed into her ass making it quiver until he was ready to lose it. He loved the erotic image, but he needed to feel the connection by looking into her eyes. He dropped his mouth to her until she exploded in her release. He flipped her over and locked into her energy, her eyes, and what felt like her soul. Jamie took his time as they spoke volumes about love, commitment, and desire without saying a single word. Jamie pumped his hopes and desires into her and clutched her to him. Claire dropped her head into his panting chest and cried.

Michael had lost none of his enthusiasm by the afternoon and stayed close to Claire to coach her through the crucial lead changes that Runner wasn’t used to doing. Claire knew the instant Runner understood what to do. After that, there were two quick reminders and he instantly corrected his lead.

Claire wore her new silks for race day and when Jamie lifted her foot into the saddle, she was the very definition of calm determination. Runner knew it was time to race and shot blinking pictures of him winning as they were ponied to the gate.

Michael stayed up in the stands, high enough to get the whole race on his video recorder. Jamie admired his equipment, all very high tech, and his confidence in this man grew a bit. He had tried to vet Michael, but the weekend made it impossible to reach the registrar’s office at the University of Michigan. He was able to bring up photos of Michael on the internet which proved he was the only son and heir to Pearson enterprises.

Claire stayed quiet in the saddle as the horses were loaded into the gate. Runner would be coming out of gate 3 in a nine-horse race and would face all the old habits of breaking late and hanging back. She wondered if Jamie thought to mention that to Michael.

When the gate slammed open, Claire was off Runner’s back, ready to move. The pack of horses was well away before Runner bolted into his race lane, running a methodical slow race to the first turn. Claire could feel the easier gate as he changed to his left lead in the turn and then engaged his power. It felt like she was flying as he chased up the outside and caught up to the pack. Even with the deafening sound of hooves pounding the dirt she could hear the roar of the crowd as Runner past one horse after another. He told her he would run very fast to catch up to Sham and Angle Light. Claire tucked close to him, no time to hope, no time to pray, Runner became a bullet, coming out of the second turn with Sham and Angle Light twenty lengths ahead, he lengthened his body as his front feet pounded the ground at the same time making each stride a leap to cover ground. Claire felt her heart sinking as the finish line came into view but suddenly Angle Light was fading behind her and she was neck and neck with Sham’s jockey who whipped the horse mercilessly.

She realized that Runner was keeping pace with Sham so he could torture him and she let him know, in no uncertain terms, it was time to win. He did. Claire was screaming at him with her joy and disbelief he had done it again.

“Runner! You big beautiful horse! You won the Champagne Stakes! You won, you won, you won. Thank God, thank you, God!” Runner was still in a gallop as Claire tried to pull him back, slow him down, but he wasn’t listening. When she saw Angle Light ahead, she knew he just had to race by her and flaunt his win. She let him, after which he obediently started to slow down. She looked for Jamie in the stands, and on her second loop, she saw him and Michael at the rail waving. Claire was crying with joy and pulling back on the bit. When a track handler rode in front of them, Runner finally slowed down.

In the winner’s circle, Claire smiled with her tear-streaked face and Jamie and Michael proudly smiled with her. Claire jumped off and let Michael take Runner so she could get lost in Jamie’s kiss and cling to him like he was the most important man in the world to her. Because he was.

In Kentucky, Nick logged into the track at Belmont Park and snorted with disgust. He felt a small flair of pride and happiness at Runner’s win and then logged off. He was moving his training horses out of Highland Brother’s and had little time to waste.

Michael’s enthusiasm never seemed to lessen and Jason the groom was not far behind. Claire saw Jason jumping and waving at her from Runner’s bath and she smiled at him and his happiness. She passed several jockeys as they moved through the facility, each having a curt nod for her as they passed.

Claire was too exhausted to find a restaurant for dinner, so they ordered a pizza, watched a movie, and slept like the dead.

Jamie checked in with Rupert or Angus daily, happy the construction was going so well. He had ordered new locks on all the doors in the compound and had them monitored by a local security agency. When they returned, each of the borders would get their own password and Jamie could print a report of who entered and exited at any time. If the doors were tampered with it would trip a silent alarm and the video surveillance would wake up Jamie’s phone and beep. Each improvement he made brought him that much closer to a peaceful existence.

Having Jamie to herself was like heaven to Claire. They went sightseeing during mid-day, walked for miles and talked about their early lives. It was a struggle for Jamie to hear about Claire’s life as an orphan and he stopped several times to pull her into his arms and just hold her. This time together deepened their bond and devotion to each other.

Michael had changed Runner’s training schedule and Claire was spending more time breezing and working on lead changes. When he discussed new ideas with Jamie and Claire, he always had the latest research to support his changes. He and Claire were in their element and Jamie was excited for them both.

When he held her close and ran his hands down her body, the changes were obvious and worrisome. Her hip bones and shoulders were bony protrusions where she once had soft round curves and she had constant bruising on the insides of her knees. When she kept losing weight Jamie made an appointment with a nutritionist who gave her a list of supplements to take every day, keeping her energy up and stabilizing her weight.

On race day, Claire was feeling so good, and she teased Runner about beating Sham again because he would be racing too.

To Jamie and Michael, it was a smooth transition to the Saratoga racetrack as Runner was getting very accustomed to traveling. Runner looked calm and ready to race during his workout and Claire’s rosy cheeks were a blessing to Jamie’s worried heart.

When Runner bolted onto the track, the other horses were well ahead, as usual, and he came out of the first turn like a bullet, as usual. He took the lead before the second turn and was never caught. An easy win for this horse who was gaining notoriety because he was unbeatable. The day and the race were so perfect and Claire lavished him with praise during his post-race flaunting to Sham. When she came around the turn and saw Jamie it felt like the air evacuated from her lungs. Something was terribly wrong, and she felt confused and scared until she heard the announcement.

“Midnight Runner has been disqualified from the Hopeful Stakes."

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summerseachild · 5 years ago

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I power-watched GoT Season 1

Why? Because before tomorrow, I wanted to remember what I loved about the show. Instead of liveblogging my flailing, I did it in my phone’s notes, but I thought I’d dump the whole season here (season 2 is also finished as of today). I to keep myself to three bullet points per episode, but failed most of the time.

1x01

1. They are all SO YOUNG! Kit is a bb! Maisie! Sophie! RICHARD!

2. I still love to story of Jaime jumping off the cliffs at the Rock and his impression of Tywin. (And you wonder why I fell in love with them..)

3. The years have not lessened my dislike of Robert Baratheon.

1x02

1. Lannister family breakfasts give me joy. (GIVE ME A GOOD CLEAN DEATH ANY DAY OMG JAIME)

2. Michelle Fairley was a gift.

3. (Bonus - Theon being in the trusted council Cat tells about suspecting the Lannister’s in Bran’s attempted murder = ❤️❤️❤️)

4. JUSTICE FOR LADY 2K19! I am still so angry at everyone involved that I can feel my heart rate start increasing the second the scene by the river starts, and by the time we get to the scene in front of Robert, I have to make sure there’s nothing in my hand to throw. True story: the first time I watched this, I came closer than I ever have in my whole life to throwing an actual glass at a tv. After all this time, only a lifetime of self control and respect for the people who bought us our new tv keeps me from doing it now.

1x03

1. Love the Lannister vs Stark parenting parallels: Cersei doesn’t give terrible advice to her son... Machiavellian, but canny. Ned is a good dad too... trying to explain to Arya why Sansa acted the way she did...

2. Remember when the white walkers were scary and Old Nan was the best storyteller? Remember when there were so many great minor characters like her? Like Old Maester Aemon and Syrio Forel given so much good stuff to do with not a lot of screen time?

3. I may hate Robert, but my great respect for Mark Addy as an actor has only grown. That scene in Robert’s study with Robert and Barristan Selmy And Jaime is SO GOOD. Also Jaime talking about Aerys with that look on his face like he’s reliving it is always SO HAUNTING.

4. Bonus: remember when Dany had her OG clique? Irri and Jiqui and Doreah and Rhakaro and Jorah? I do. :(

1x04

1. Tyrion’s second visit to Winterfell is great. The smile on Bran’s face when he gets the plans for the saddle is SO PURE. Theon recommending Ros to Tyrion is less pure but still hilarious before we get to the serious business of explaining why Theon is in Winterfell.

2. Awwww Pyp And Grenn and Sam are such babies! Yay brotherhood.

3. Ned’s straightforwardness is so obviously going to get him killed it’s painful.

1x05

1. Sandor Clegane is more interesting to me this time around. Also Rory McCann is brilliant.

2. Maester Luwin And Bran talking with Theon practicing archery in the background makes my heart ache. “Famed for their skill at archery, navigation, and lovemaking.” Lol

3. That skull Arya hides in has to be Balerion. It looks even bigger than Drogon! And that’s Varys talking to... Illyrio? I don’t remember a lot I’m realizing.

4. I can’t resist cackling at Littlefinger and Varys sniping at each other and Aiden and Conleth PLAYING IT UP and clearly loving every second of it.

5. Bonus bonus: that scene between Cersei and Robert where they’re discussing strategy and potential scenarios for a Dothraki invasion is fascinating on so many levels. They hate and know each other so well and Lena and Mark play off each other brilliantly. And CERSEI IS SO VULNERABLE HERE. I think this might be one of the moments I fell in love with her, weird as that sounds.

6. Triple bonus: 😂 at Jaime knocking out his own man who stabbed Ned and robbed Jaime of his fair fight with The Warden of the North.

1x06

1. This episode gets a 10/10 for amount of time Theon and Robb spend in scenes together.

2. Having watched a lot of Ripper Street seeing Bronn for the first time is a whole lot of fun.

3. FIRE CANNOT KILL A DRAGON YES KHALEESI

1x07: remember when Dan and David used to let experienced writers co-write their eps? That was fun.

1. Tywin Lannister DRESSING HIS OWN STAG like a boss. I live for this intro scene and Charles Dance’s Tywin.

2. YOU WIN OR YOU DIE. And Cersei lived and died by those words. At least she’s consistent? Anyway, SO ICONIC.

3. Sam and Jon taking their vows at the weirwood North of the Wall with the snow swirling around them still sends a chill up my spine.

4. Bonus: all the Dothraki language in this episode is cool and Jason SELLS IT.

5. Bonus bonus: BETRAYAL! ...Peter, no...

1x08

1. Let’s hear it for quick thinking dead heroes. Septa Mordane And Syrio Forel saved those Stark girl’s’ lives.

2. Poor bb Sansa all getting used as a pawn by people who have power over her. Your day will come, my Queen in the North.

3. Today’s sexuality: Robb Stark saying “call the banners”

4. Bonus: Dany did not save those women from being assaulted in that village to burn down King’s Landing out of spite

1x09

1. Maester Aemon’s speech about love and duty is so great and it reminded me of when this show had THEMES and common plot threads that WORKED.

2. Shae and Bronn And Tyrion playing games gives me joy, until Tyrion tells the Tysha story and I’m not ok ever.

3. Robb was a smart commander and one who Got How Serious his responsibilities were and I just love him ok.

1x10

1. Catelyn being like “FIRST get your sisters back THEN kill them ALL” to Robb is peak Stark bloodthirst and I love it.

2. NOW AND ALWAYS followed by Theon saying something that sounds a lot like the wedding vows but with swords is giving me a LOT OF THROBB FEELS this time through.

3. Mirri Maz Duur is SO INTERESTING and her actress is GREAT and I want to know MORE ABOUT HER.

4. Jeor Mormont being like “White walkers are COMING do you think it matters who sits on the Iron Throne?” Is super funny now. Because d and d sure don’t agree with him.

5. BABY DRAGONS!!! SO CUTE!!! Shrieky, but cute.

#summersea has feels about got

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secondgenerationnerd · 7 years ago

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Mother Knows Best

Author’s notes: Another SpeedDemon fic? Say it ain’t so. I’m kidding. Can’t remember why I decided to write this aside from causing my bestie @girlwonder123x some pain (love you!). I also reference a few stories on @dctinytitans so you should totally check them out! (next Fic is gonna be a Lian Harper fic)

Rating: M for swearing and violence.

Words: 4606

“Ok, lightning bug,” Irey reaches into her daughter’s crib,” Mama’s here. I gotcha.”

Irey speaks softly, mostly about nothing, as she changes the five-month-old. Asha looks up at her mother, looking every bit like her father except for those dazzling green eyes, babbling and gurgling to herself. Irey smiles. She tickles the little girl, filling the room with giggles,” Someone’s in a good mood. You wanna see if Baba’s up? Huh? You wanna talk to Baba?”

Asha snuggles up to her mother as they go to the living room. Irey makes a list of things she needs to do as she settles on the couch, pulling her nursing bra to the side. Asha latches on easily, long lashes fluttering shut. Irey looks down at her daughter with so much love. Breastfeeding is one of the things she’s loved most about being a mom. The health benefits and science behind it she loves, but being able to hold her baby, bonding with her this way is something she will never take for granted. After all, It’s something she never thought she would get.

When Irey and her twin brother, Jai, were 13, they’d been told that they have a very low chance of ever having kids. This was due to the stress their powers put on their bodies, as they had to produce more ATP and there had been more science babble that Irey heard but didn’t process. At 13, she knew at some point she wanted a family, but not now. It didn’t really hit her until she was 17 and she had been dating Damian a while. They’d been cuddling on her bed, talking about nothing in particular. It just hit her how much she wanted to grow old and have a family with him. And how that might not happen.

When Irey found out she was pregnant, she straight up called her doctor a liar. He did three different pregnancy tests, two in front of her face. She still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t until that first ultrasound, where she heard Asha’s heartbeat for the first time, that it hit her. She was having a baby. The baby now nestled in her arms, contently nursing.

Irey takes another minute to just be with her daughter before grabbing her communicator. She can’t exactly call Damian’s cell phone, but the process of getting in touch with him on the communicators is a pain in the ass. She has to request it, hope to whatever is out there that he’s available to talk and has service, and, even then, it’s not like they can really talk because it’s being recorded. Irey rolls her eyes as she selects Robin V (His brothers and Steph don’t even use the damn names anymore) and waits, her eyes drifting around the room. She smiles at a picture on the mantle. Damian and Irey are maybe 11 and curled up together in an oversized armchair. They were in the Wayne Manor library. Damian’s arm had found its way around her, holding her loosely. Irey, on the other hand, had both arms around his waist and her face practically buried in his neck, cuddling him like he was a teddy bear. You’d never know two seconds later he was punching Dick in the face.

That had been the day they met. Her dad needed to talk to Dick (who she has long since stopped calling Uncle Dick because it was too weird) about something, and Damian was saddled with her. Damian had been an asshole towards her. He’s the first to admit it, but things got better as the day went on. He’d gotten her a rose from the garden after finding her crying there. He ended up reading Hamlet to her. Irey, to this day, still has no idea how they ended up cuddling in the photo. She just remembers feeling warm and Damian’s smooth voice reading the words she doesn’t quite understand.

“Hello, my beautiful flower,” Irey looks at her communicator’s screen. Her heart soars at the sight of Damian. He looks like hell. Dark hair messy, dirt and sweat cover his face, showing her where his mask had been, a bruise starting to form on his cheek up towards his forehead. Irey beams, thinking he’s never looked more handsome.

“Hey, babe,” Irey adjusts herself as Asha finishes feeding,” We miss you.”

“Miss you too. I don’t like being away from my girls,” Damian smiles,” How are you?”

“Well, not tracking a drug cartel in Guatemala, but I can’t complain,” Irey points the camera at Asha. The baby squeals at her father’s image, stretching her little fists out for him,” I think Asha misses her baba.”

“Hi, Hayati,” Damian coos to his daughter,” I miss you so much. Baba loves you and can’t wait to see you tonight.”

“Tonight?” Irey points the communicator back at her,” You all finished already?”

“It’s been a week, Nuri,” he points out.

“You’re working with Lian, Gar, and Bart. Forgive me for thinking the mission would last longer,” She teases. Damian smirks.

“Why do you think I’m leading the team?” Irey snorts at this,” No, we finished yesterday. Father said to stick around til tonight, see if any more news comes our way. Then they’ll zeta us home.

“I can’t wait to see you,” Irey gives him a smirk that sends a jolt of electricity down his spine,” I miss my fiancé. The bed is too big and cold without you.”

“I’m sure we can warm it up,” Damian assures her with a wink,” Honestly, as much as I love you, Irey, it’s taken everything for me to not murder Bart. I can’t believe he’s related to you.”

“I usually chalk it up to a future thing and leave it at that. Besides, your family isn’t much better.” Irey stands up, getting Asha a bottle of formula. Poor baby has her mother’s overactive metabolism. Irey sets the communicator on the counter, so she can still talk to him.

“Fair enough,” Damian chuckles,” What do you two have planned for today?”

Irey looks down at Asha, speaking in her baby voice,” Well, when it’s not 2:34 in the morning, Mama and Asha are going to get breakfast with Uncle Jai-Jai. Then we have to go to the doctor to get weighed. And if we’re still in a good mood, we’re gonna go grocery shopping and get yummy things to try; like bananas and strawberries and-“

“You know,” A cool voice behind her interrupts,” If you speak to her like that, your daughter will grow up to be dimwitted.”

Irey drops the bottle in her hand, whipping around. A woman looks at her. Dark brown hair, green eyes, caramel skin. Irey adjusts her grip on Asha, holding her as close to her chest as she can,” Talia.”

“Irey?” Damian’s voice calls out. Irey uses a very tiny portion of her speed to grab the communicator so Damian can see her. She doesn’t dare use anymore or got too far, in fear of hurting Asha. Irey gasps when a dart hits her arm, barely missing her baby,” IREY?!”

“Hello, my son,” Talia says coolly. Irey isn’t sure who recoils more at the words- her or Damian.

“Damian,” Irey’s voice is firm,” I need you to hang up- “

“N- “

“Hang up and call the league.” Irey barks, not taking her eyes off of Talia. She feels different, slower. Whatever was in that dart must be neutralizing her powers. She growls,” What do you want?”

“Can’t a grandmother come to see her granddaughter?” Talia moves towards her. Irey steps back, keeping her grip on Asha tight.

“Stay. The. Hell. Away. From. My. Baby.” Irey spits. Talia smirks and it takes everything for Irey not to think of how much it looks like Damian’s.

“You don’t scare me, speedster.”

“I might not be scary, but I can be pretty fucking ruthless when it comes to my daughter’s safety.” Damian’s still watching, unable to move.

“Who said it’s her safety you need to worry about?” Irey doesn’t have time to react as Talia pulls out a gun and fires at her. Just before Damian’s feed cuts out, he hears a crash and Asha crying…

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Dick, Jason, Cass, and Tim are silent as they enter their little brother’s apartment. Normally, they would stop to look at some of the pictures on the wall, as Irey likes to switch them out. Now they stop because of the blood splatter on the wall and the trail on the floor. Jason kneels beside a streak and mouths fresh. While Cass and Tim clear the living room and kitchen, Jason and Dick check down the hall. They open doors along the way, waiting for someone to jump out at them. Nothing. They check the master bedroom, finding nothing but an unmade bed and a pile of laundry. The men jump at the sharp cry that comes from the only room yet to be cleared.

Cass and Tim meet them outside Asha’s room. Cass mouths Home clear. They nod. Dick throws the door open. Asha wails from her crib, holding onto the railing. While the other three check the room, Dick picks up his niece,” Hey, hey, hey. You’re ok. I got you, pretty girl, I got you.”

“Dick.” Tim flips on the light. The front of Asha’s purple pajamas is covered in blood. Tears cut trails in the splatters on her cheeks.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Jason picks up a note in her crib. SAVE MY MOMMY in crisp feminine letters. The siblings exchange a knowing glance. This wasn’t good. Dick bounces Asha, trying to calm her, as Jason grumbles,” Wally’s gonna blow a gasket. Damian’s gonna blow a gasket.”

“Baby,” Cass holds her arms out to Dick,” Give me baby.”

Dick gently passes Asha to Cass. The dancer moves around the room in quick, sharp steps. The same pattern over and over. Most babies would hate the movement. Most babies don’t have Irey West for a mother. Asha’s cries fade to hiccups as she rests in her aunt’s arms, looking around for her mother or father.

“We need to get her somewhere safe,” Tim says. Dick nods, already grabbing the prepacked diaper bag that Irey kept on the rocking chair. He opens her drawers, looking for something warm for the baby to wear in the cold December night.

“So…who wants to tell Damian his fiancée and the mother of his child has been kidnapped by his mother?” Jason asks. No one answers him. No one wants to answer.

After making sure Asha is secured to Jason’s chest with three separate straps and bundled up as warm as possible, the group heads towards the Batcave. It takes almost an hour to get there as Jason avoids any rough roads. Asha sleeps the whole way. They head Damian screaming the minute they ride into the cave.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!” He roars at Bruce, Clark, and Diana,” WHERE’S MY FAMILY?!”

“Damian, you need to calm down,” Bruce’s voice is firm and even.

“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN I JUST SAW THE LOVE OF MY LIFE GET SHOT BY MY MOTHER WHILE HOLDING OUR CHILD!”

Asha wakes up at the sounds of her father’s shouts. She wriggles against her uncle, not wanting him anymore. Jason quickly unhooks her.

“Damian-“Dick begins.

“WHAT?!” Damian whips around. Everyone, everyone, watches his shoulders relax and his eyes soften. They hear the breath he releases at the sight of his daughter. Asha holds her arms out to him, babbling and cooing. Damian runs to Jason, cape flying up behind him, and taking her from him. He holds her tight, kissing her dark curls over and over and over,” I’m here. Daddy’s here. You’re safe. I got you. Daddy’s got you. I got you.”

He holds her tight, just reminding himself that she’s here and alive and safe. But then he takes a closer look. Little bits of blood still fleck her cheeks and neck. His heart stops,” Where’s Irey?”

None of his siblings answer him. Dick is the only one to meet his eyes. Instead of answering, he hands his little brother the evidence bag with the note inside. As quickly as his demeanor had changed when he saw Asha, it changes again. All the light fades from his eyes and his face grow tight. Asha gurgles in her father’s arms, typically something that would make him smile at her. This time he doesn’t react. He doesn’t look at his daughter, instead handing her to Dick. Asha’s confused as her father walks away. She starts crying. Damian doesn’t react.

“Where are you going?” Dick asks, trying to calm Asha. The baby cries harder, stretching her arms out for Damian.

“To find Irey,” Damian, without a second thought, hops onto his old motorcycle. He rides away before anyone can say anything to him.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Irey grits her teeth as the pain courses through her body. She won’t scream. Talia doesn’t get to hear her scream. Instead, Irey pulls on her chains. Why the fuck a church has a dungeon she’s not sure. Talia nods at her henchman, who cuts the electricity off. Irey releases a sharp breath.

“I’m impressed,” Talia says, looking at Irey like a piece of meat,” I didn’t think you’d last this long.”

“Fuck. You.” Irey growls. Her hair falls over her shoulders and into her eyes.

Talia ignores this,” I suppose my son wouldn’t be attracted to someone weak. Though I still don’t see why he would choose you.”

“Because I actually love him,” Irey doesn’t care if Talia knows it,” I love him and I love who he is- “

“You stupid girl, you don’t know who he is- “

“I know who you tried to turn him into. A cold-blooded killer who would never love anyone. Never let anyone in. And guess what, bitch? That isn’t Damian.” Irey can’t stop the cry of pain as Talia turns the electricity on again. Irey can tolerate more than a normal human, thank you speed force, but her muscles tighten until it feels like they’re ripping. She’s breathing heavily as the power cuts off.

“I know my son better than some whore.” Talia’s words sting, but Irey meets her eyes.

“I’m not a whore. I’m the love of his life, the mother of his child-“

“A bastard-“

“Just like her father.” Irey hates saying it, but technically it’s true,” But until her father, Asha will have a mother who loves her. Who will protect her. Who won’t ever use her like she’s just a pawn in a bigger game.”

Talia slaps her across the face. Irey looks back at the older woman’s eyes, refusing to back down,” You think you scare me, bitch? I’m Irey West. I’ve been doing this shit since I was 10. There’s nothing you can do to me that I haven’t already been through.”

“Maybe not you,” Talia’s fingernails dig into Irey’s cheeks,” But there’s a little girl I can still hurt.”

Irey doesn’t recognize her voice through the anger and venom,” If you touch my daughter, I’ll shove my hand through your heart.”

“My dear, there isn’t anything you can do to stop me-“

“But there’s plenty I can do.” Both women look up. Damian stands in the doorway, blood on his uniform and his unsheathed katana. Irey relaxes at the sight of him,” Get away from her.”

“Get him!” Talia shouts at the henchmen. Irey watches in horror as they attack Damian. But then she sees the cold look in his eyes. No.

Damian doesn’t hesitate to kill the men, slicing them down as if they are inconveniences. No mercy, no pausing. Just killing. It’s just her, Talia, and Damian a minute later. Talia seems shocked,” I thought you weren’t supposed to kill.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t. I will say this one more time. Get. Away. From. Irey.” He snarls. Talia looks between Irey and Damian. Reaching into her pocket, she holds up a switch.

“Unless I walk out of here, Asha will never see her mother again.” Damian looks between his mother and Irey. Irey can see some light come back into his eyes, see her Damian returning.

“I won’t hurt you,” Damian sheathes his katana. He slowly moves towards them. Talia backs away towards another door. Just as Damian reaches Irey, Talia flips the switch. Irey screams at the top of her lungs, her back arching and every nerve flaring in pain.

She sees snippets of her life pass before her eyes. She’s helping her mom make pancakes. Her dad is reading Lord of the Rings to her and Jai. She’s learning to throw lightning. She’s jumping around her room. She’s dancing in her underwear. She’s kissing Damian for the first time, his hands on her waist, the rain hitting their skin. Lian is shouting in her ear as something explodes. Mar’i’s teaching her how to make a Tamaranian dish. Jon’s telling her about an article he’s working on. Damian’s pressing kisses to her skin, telling her how beautiful she is. She’s holding Asha for the first time. Damian is down on one knee, asking her to be his forever.

The pain cuts off and Irey slumps forward. Everything hurts. Her lungs feel like they’ve been fried. Her vision is blurry. Damian is at her chains. He picks the locks with ease and grabs her before she can fall to the ground. She can hear his heart beating. She can feel his arms shaking.

“Irey…” She nearly sobs at the gentle way he says her name. She looks up at him.

“Let’s go home.” She whispers. He nods. Damian removes his cape, wrapping it around her. She doesn’t bother reminding him that she doesn’t get cold. Irey lets him pick her up, breathing in his scent. Underneath the sweat and dirt, she picks up the traces of his cinnamon cologne. This is her Damian. He’s hers. She just has to remind him of that.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Irey winces as Alfred dresses her shoulder. Whatever the dart had in it has yet to wear off. At least she has a cool new scar to show off.

“I’m sorry, Miss Irey. Shouldn’t be much longer,” He assures her. Irey gives him a pained smile.

“Would you believe me if I said giving birth to Asha with no painkillers hurt less than tonight?”

“Miss Irey, you’ve sparred with Miss Mar’i before. I don’t doubt that you’ve faced worse pain in your life.” Irey laughs at this, then grabs her ribs,” Master Damian seems to be in a better mood.”

“I saw him, Alfred. He went back to who he was before. Jason told me…He told me Asha was crying and Damian walked away from her.” Alfred finishes wrapping her shoulder.

“Miss Irey, there are very few things in this world that we can change. Who Master Damian was before coming here is one of them.” Irey looks down,” However, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him act like that.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I believe the last time he gave into the darkness was about 5 years ago. After Miss Mar’i was nearly killed by her aunt.” For some reason this makes her feel a little better,” Miss Irey, if I may, Master Damian will never be free of those demons. No matter how much you might want to believe he could be, they are still there.”

“I don’t know how to help him, Alfred.” She looks at the old butler,” I’m going to be his wife-“

“Which means you, more than anyone else, have the privilege of knocking sense into his thick skull. Not an easy task as I’m sure you are aware of.”

Irey laughs at this, ignoring the pain it causes her,” What would this family have done without you, Alfred Pennyworth?”

“I do not believe the family would be as whole as they are. And a few of them would be missing limbs.” Irey laughs again. There’s a soft knock on the door,” It’s open.”

Damian enters, holding a now sleeping Asha. He smiles at Irey. Irey sees his family at the doorway. She looks Alfred,” Can we have the room for a minute?”

“Of course.” Alfred gathers his things and shoos the other’s away from the door. Damian sits on the bed with her.

“How much trouble am I in?” He asks in Arabic. Both of them knew his family was probably listening right outside the door, but none of them spoke Arabic. Irey had learned it after they were dating.

“Do you want me to answer honestly or sugar coat it?”

“Honestly.”

“Damian, you shut down. They told me Asha was crying, crying for you, and you ignored her. Not once, in her entire life, have you done that.” Irey looks down at their sleeping daughter. Asha’s curls are damp from her usual night sweats. She sucks on a baby bottle top. She’s content in her father’s arms,” I know what happened scared you. It scared me too. But things like this will happen in the future.”

“You don’t know that-“

“I know we both agreed that we would continue to be heroes. To set an example for Asha. To make the world a better, safer place for her to grow up in.”

“How could it be a better place for her to grow up in if her mother isn’t there? How can I look our beautiful little girl in the eyes and promise I will never let anything bad happen to her when I couldn’t protect you? How can I possibly look her in the eyes if I have to tell her she will never hear you sing her to sleep or hold her or tell her you love her?”

“Baby, I know you are scared. I don’t know what I would do if you died and I had to raise Asha by myself. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried you will take all that hurt and anger and sadness and you’ll shut her out. You can’t do that. Not to Asha.”

“Irey- “

“I mean it, Damian. You cannot ignore Asha. No matter how much you are hurting. No matter how much you miss me. Asha needs you. She needs her father. She needs you to be there to wipe her tears away, patch up her skinned knees, fix her broken heart. She needs you to tell her stories about our old missions and how we fell in love. About the song you sang to me when you told me you had a crush on me. About our first kiss in the rain and the horrible head colds we had afterward. She needs you to chase the monsters away. She needs her daddy, especially if Mommy can’t be there.”

Damian gives her a sad look,” I hate that my mother hurt you.”

“Babe.” Irey kisses him. It’s soft and sad and longing,” What happened is not your fault. It’s hers. Only hers. You are not like her.”

Damian tucks a strand of her fiery hair behind her ear,” I love you, Irey West. You are half my heart.”

“I wonder who the other half is,” Irey presses a kiss to Asha’s forehead.

“HAVE YOU TWO MADE UP YET?!” Jason yells. Irey laughs and Damian rolls his eyes.

“Come on in, you guys,” Irey calls out. His family piles into the room. Damian scoots on the bed so he’s sitting beside her.

“So the wedding still on?” Jason asks.

“Todd, I swear to god-“

“Actually,” Irey turns to Damian,” Can I see your ring?”

Damian frowns, but hands over the obsidian engagement ring she’d given him two months ago. Irey’s own ring was at home. Irey turns to face him, holding one of his hands. Her eyes meet his, filled with love and awe,” Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, you are an impulsive man. You can be short tempered, bitter, broody-“

“Have I mentioned how much I love this girl?” Jason asks. Dick shushes him.

“There are a million things about you that I should hate. But I don’t. I don’t hate them, even though everyone keeps telling me I should.” Irey’s green eyes sparkle,” I meant what I said the first time I proposed. I’ve loved you since the day we met. You are my best friend, my rock, my confidant, my lightning rod. You have made me feel so beautiful and powerful and strong. Even though your mom is literally the worst mother-in-law ever, I still want to be your wife.”

Damian beams at her. Irey holds up the ring and asks,” So, Damian Wayne-Al Ghul, do you still want to be my husband?”

“Of course,” Damian laughs,” I have backed out yet.”

Irey laughs and slips his ring back on,” Good because it would have been really awkward if you told me no in front of your family.”

“We would have had to kick your ass,” Tim informs his little brother.

“I think you mean try,” Irey says.

“You have to take his side- “

“Actually,” Irey turns to face the Batfam,” I decided to calculate who wins more often in a fight by reviewing old footage. Damian wins his fights against Tim 68% of the time, Jason 54%, Dick 77% of the time, and Cass 49.5% of the time. This means his odds of kicking your asses is about 62.125%”

Damian grins at his brothers’ and sister’s stunned expressions,” She’s as smart as she is beautiful.”

“I like you a lot less now,” Jason grunts.

“What about Damian and Bruce?”

“Insufficient information to draw a conclusion.” Irey grins,” You want to hear how likely he is to beat me in a fight?”

The others roar with laughter, waking Asha. Irey gently takes the baby from Damian, shushing her. Asha looks up at her parents, specifically Damian. Then, clear as day, she exclaims,” Baba!”

The other adults laugh while Damian and Irey look at each other stunned.

“Bottle would be her first word,” Dick laughs.

“She’s not saying bottle,” Damian’s trying very hard not to cry.

“She said ‘baba’ that’s like universal baby talk for bottle,” Tim points out.

“Baba,” Irey smiles at them,” means Daddy in Arabic. That’s what we call Damian at home. He’s Asha’s baba.”

“Baba!” Asha smiles up at Damian,” Baba, baba, baba, baba…”

“You know most infants aren’t actually talking around this time,” Tim informs them,” They just babble and we try to make sense of the gibberish-“

Damian throws one of his hidden knives at Tim’s head. He misses, intentionally, but it shuts the older man up. The family decides to leave the young couple alone. Irey lays back, watching Damian as he coos to Asha in Arabic. His hands carefully caressing her curls and wiping drool from her chin. Irey smiles. This is her future.

“I promise,” Damian says a little while later, Asha sleeping with her head on his shoulder. Irey looks at him, confused.

“You promise what?”

“I promise to not shut Asha out. If anything happens to you, I promise I won’t shut down. Or I’ll try at least.” Irey looks up at him, tears blurring her eyes.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Damian pulls Irey close to him. She wraps her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face into his shirt. Damian listens as her breathing evens out and all the muscles in her body relax. This, this right here is heaven. His daughter sleeping on his chest and the love of his life at his side, both of them safe and loved and alive and with him.

What more could he ask for?

#irey west #Damian Wayne #robin #Impulse #Tim Drake #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #Red Robin #nightwing #Red hood #batgirl #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #talia al ghul #fanfiction

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themyskira · 7 years ago

Text

Wonder Woman #32

i hate this comic so much i hate everything hatehatehahtehahtehtahtehate

Previously: Because Geoff Johns hates us, Diana has a secret twin brother and Darkseid has a sexy evil half-Amazon daughter called Grail. Grail is now murdering demigods and feeding their tasty life essence to Darkseid, who is a baby (Johns again). Grail has just murdered Hercules. Hercules’ lawyer, Hercule Poirot, has informed Diana that she is heir to his estate.

ah for fuck’s sake we’re one page in and already we’ve been saddled with the fucking Oddfellows, aka the shitty expies of Sameer, Charlie and the Chief from the Wonder Woman movie.

For those sensible enough not to read Tim Seeley’s Wonder Woman: Steve Trevor oneshot, the Oddfellows are a team of… mercenaries? I guess? …who do off-the-books work for ARGUS. Because Tim Seeley forgot that Rebirth Steve doesn’t work for ARGUS, I guess.

Sameer isn’t so bad -- he’s a former Moroccan intelligence agent who “speaks twenty-four languages and [is] a con man in every single one”. A reasocnable modernisation of Sameer from the movie.

Charlie is essentially the same as his movie counterpart — an ex-sniper who is, and I quote, the “steadiest hand in the business unless he’s having a panic attack, which is often, or not drinking, which isn’t”. This worked in the context of the movie, where in the midst of a world war Steve had to assemble a team quickly and completely off the books, and where the character served to illustrate to both Diana and the audience the terrible trauma of war. It makes zero fucking sense in the context of a private contractor working for a clandestine government agency, because what worldly motivation would ARGUS have to hand dangerous and sensitive missions to a man with debilitating PTSD and alcoholism?

And the Chief? The Chief is just fucking bananas. He’s a former Shadow Wolves operative who used his skills to help refugees and illegal immigrants past the border before he was caught, and joined ARGUS to commute his sentence, which is fine. Except… he’s also creepily into explosives? And he’s an amateur jewellery designer who makes truly hideous accessories? Which also explode? A fact which we (and Steve) discover only after the Oddfellows find themselves cornered, and the Chief tells Steve to shoot the gross necklace he gave him, and after the smoke clears, Steve is like, “is everything you’ve ever given me a potential bomb?” and the Chief answers, completely seriously, “Of course. Why make things that don’t explode? Boring.”

w h a t t h e f u c k.

But anyway, we’re talking about this shitty comic.

The Oddfellows are storming the Paris Catacombs, where I guess Diana is fighting Parademons? Don’t know when that happened; the last thing I remember Hercule Poirot was informing Diana that she was heir to Hercules’ estate. I actually just had to check back to the previous issue to make sure I wasn’t missing anything.

Charlie is drunk, of course. Alcoholism is hilarious, guys.

Steve and the bloke on his radio exposition back and forth about how the Oddfellows are here as Diana’s escorts, and Diana flew on ahead to fight Parademons. “Why?” asks the bloke on the radio.

Steve: “Dumb question. There was a battle awaiting her… and she’s a warrior.” urgh. fuuuuuuuck offffffff.

The gents catch up with Diana, and Charlie storms in singing The Bonnie Banks o’ Loch Lomond because we’re going full drunk Scottish stereotype here.

I need to talk about this terrible dialogue, because who the fuck speaks like this while they’re locked in a rapid-pace sword fight with multiple flying monsterbeings?

“I admit it isn’t easy fighting Darkseid’s Parademons in such a confined space, Steve.”

Cut to four hours earlier, and Diana and Steve are at ARGUS Central Command. A bloke named Doctor Peril, who’s either unfortunately named or a supervillain-in-waiting, asks Steve how it feels to be working with ARGUS again, because Robinson also didn’t get the memo that Rebirth Steve was never an ARGUS agent. Honest to god, between this and Grail/Jason and the bullshit with Circe in Trinity— what is the point of soft-rebooting Wonder Woman if the changes aren’t communicated to anybody else writing those characters?

Robinson highlights the stupidity of this by having Doctor Peril address Steve as Colonel Trevor, and Steve respond by telling him, “I’m Navy now, so for one thing — if you say my rank, it’s Master Chief.” I don’t know much about the military, so perhaps I’m just ill-informed, but why would a highly-ranked Air Force commissioned officer transfer to the Navy in an enlisted pay grade? That… seems strange and implausible, and probably should have been a sign to Robinson that something wasn’t right.

I also think Robinson’s promoted Steve a few pay grades — prior to this he’s been referred to as “Chief”. If he’s in the Navy, that would make him a Chief Petty Officer (Master Chief is the highest enlisted rank).

ugh, these shitty minutiae keep distracting me from the shitty story. Okay. Doctor Panic or whatever is studying Hercules’ desiccated corpse. Conveniently, the thing that killed him has left an energy marker unique to Apokolips, which ARGUS just happens to have been monitoring religiously since the last time Darkseid attacked. Diana immediately concludes that this is Grail’s work, then explains to us who Grail is because none of us bothered to read Darkseid War.

When you continually feel the need wall-of-text expositioning at your readers about stuff that when down in a different comic, you’re probably not onto a winning story.

(Also, good god this art is ugly.)

Doctor Pitfall interrupts their expositioning to inform them the Hercules wasn’t the first victim and oh fuck me what other Greek demigods has Robinson senselessly murdered as set dressing for this shitty story?

…a lot of them, apparently. He leads Diana and Steve into a curiously large morgue, where fifteen bodies are laid out on tables.

More exposition. Doctor Pissweak tells Diana that Hercules is the only one they’ve ID’d because ARGUS already had intel on him, and the Ancient Greece connection was what led them to Diana. Diana says that she has an appointment with the Poirot-lookalike lawyer. Gosh, it’s so refreshing to finally read a superhero comic where people talk about information management and appointments, this is just the kind of exciting escapism I come to DC for.

Sadly, this thrilling back-and-forth is interrupted, as a man with a distracting pornstache bursts in to declare that more convenient Apokalyptian energy has been detected in Paris. Steve takes Pornstache’s tablet and is able to immediately surmise that, yes, it’s denizens of Apokalips, but no, there’s no victim this time, they’re just shit-stirring. Yes, he can tell this all from the energy signature, obviously.

Back to the present, and we’re subjected to more excruciating flirtatious dialogue between Steve and Diana.

Steve: You know, Angel… a lesser man might feel threatened by how often you pull my fat our of the fire. Diana: Firstly, Steve, you’re not fat. Steve: Figure of speech, Angel, I just meant— Diana: And I’m sure you’ll save my back. You usually do.

Things that irritate me about this:

I get that it’s their thing, that “Angel” has been Steve’s nickname for Diana since the Marston era, but when he uses it in every second sentence, it stops being endearing and just becomes insufferable.

Steve having to explicitly flag that he is not the kind of man who feels threatened by a more powerful woman.

Steve interrupting Diana to explain a very obvious figure of speech.

Diana’s first reaction being to reassure Steve that he’s not fat.

this fucking art what the fuck are these proportions why is her tiara so huge

Anyway, then Charlie pops back into to be obnoxiously Scottish while Diana smashes some Parademons, and then the fight’s over and I still have no idea what it was actually about.

Diana and Steve realise they haven’t expositioned for a few pages, so they pause in the aftermath to remind the reader that Hercules and a bunch of other people are dead, and Grail is involved but they don’t know how or why, and hey, remember back before this ARGUS detour when Diana was talking to that Poirot chappie? The one who told her she’s the heir to Hercules’ estate? Since he has no conceivable connection to Grail or Apokalips, maybe he’ll know what’s going on! I’m pretty sure that makes sense!

Also, editing fail: “I’d be with him now, in fact, if not for ARGUS summons and then this.”

Cut to Oregon, where Diana and Poirot are being driven to Hercules’ house. Poirot sips tea and is posh. Diana is wearing a less attractive version of that one Cliff Chiang coat-with-tiara-as-a-headband ensemble, because this artist has no imagination.

And I know I’ve been snarking about this lawyer bloke being a Hercule Poirot lookalike, but the artists are so heavily photo-referencing David Suchet’s Poirot, it’s actually distracting.

They walk into Hercules’ house. Hercule Point asks Diana what’s wrong, why does she look sad? Of course, it’s an invitation for more exposition, and Diana explains to us that Hercules was her brother because she is a daughter of Zeus, who fathered many powerful demigods.

And just in case you think I’m being a little harsh on Sergio Devila’s artwork:

These are all supposed to be Diana’s face.

Then Poirot gives Diana a letter from Hercules, because if there’s one thing this comic needs at this stage, it’s more exposition.

To summarise: Blah blah you are a wonder. Blah blah shame for my past actions. Blah blah accidental typo because the editors of this book fucking suck. Blah blah self-exile. Blah blah worthy heir. btw, you have a twin brother called Jason who was raised by Glaucus, sucks that you’re finding out this way.

Diana interrupts the letter to explain the plot of Darkseid War some more. She says that she looked for this alleged “brother” but then she got distracted by her life. No, she literally says that.

Hercules concludes his letter by saying he now feels secrets are wrong and that truth is everything. Apparently he didn’t feel it that strongly, because he decided not to tell Diana the truth, and instead left it for her to discover in the very unlikely event that he died. He tells Diana he has left the coordinates of Jason’s location… embroidered in the pelt of the Nemean Lion, because I guess just writing it was too prosaic.

Cut to Diana and Poirot on the Aegean coast, where Diana. AGAIN. EXPOSITIONS ABOUT PREVIOUS COMICS. This has gone beyond a joke who the fuck is editing this comic what the fuck is this FUUUCCKING

…okay. Diana and Poirot make dull small talk, then set about finding Jason. Conveniently, the first local she ask immediately knows who she’s talking about and where he is. He and his crew are out fishing, she says, but they’ll be back this evening.

…ooooor Diana could just fly out to meet him, since after all her time is more important than his and who cares if she interrupts his work day?

OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE

i hate this comic i hate my life

#comics talk #the james robinson shitshow

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cchasing-the-sunn · 7 years ago

Note

Trimberly prompt: Non-power ranger AU. Trini is the new detective at the police precinct and Kim is her new partner.

AO3

Kim didn’t do partners. The whole precinct knew this. Itwasn’t that Kim refused to work with anyone, she just refused to have apermanent partner because a permanent partner was someone you had to put all ofyour trust in and know everything about. Kim though she knew everything abouther last partner; thought she could trust them; trust him.

Kim worked great with Jason and Zack so Zordon usuallypartnered her with one of them for the day or week; most times she went on herown. Today was one of the days Kim was on her own.

Kim just wanted to get her morning coffee before goingacross the street to talk with a possible suspect; but of course the world-andher possible suspect-had different ideas.

The barista behind the counter waved at Kim like she wouldany other morning, gave Kim a smile, and got started on Kim’s order.

“Morning Detective!”

Kim gave her a smile as she pulled out her wallet and phone;handing the barista a ten dollar bill, she unlocked her phone and scrolled throughthe text message Jason sent her on their possible suspect. She only called himpossible because this kid doesn’t look like much, but Kim has learned to notlet appearances fool her and the kid’s record was clean so why was this kidtied to a string of robberies? Kim’s next thought on the matter was why she wasgiven this case; Zack was the one who specialized in B&E’s; the result ofhis daredevil youth. And having Tommy Oliver for a best friend, but who was Kimto judge?

The barista handed Kim back her change just as a text camein from Zack; she took her change with a smile and dropped all of it into thetip jar; she was their favorite tipper.

“Here you go, Detective.” The barista smiled and handed Kimher large coffee.

Kim smiled as she took her drink. “I’ve told you to stopcalling me that; you know my name.”

The barista gave her a sheepish look before she replied.“Have a good day, Kimberly.”

Kim gave a triumphant smile before she looked down at hertext. Her eyes went wide and she looked up to see another unmarked squad carparked across the street.

‘Dad found out I saddled you with one of my cases so I’mmeeting with our possible.’

Okay, that would explain why the case file ended up on herdesk, but Zack was never the subtle kind and they had little to nothing on thisguy. She watched the door to the sandwich shop their possible worked at flyopen and said possible took off in a sprint.

“Shit!” Kim placed her coffee back on the counter. “I’ll beback for this!” She told the barista before taking off out of the coffee shop.

The barista took the coffee and placed it inside themicrowave. It wasn’t the first time Kim had to ditch her coffee in favor ofchasing after criminals.

Kim met up with Zack on the sidewalk. “What the hell,Zack?!” Kim shouted as they turned down a street and the kid threw a few chairsfrom the outside dining area of a restaurant in their way. Both easily hurdledover them and continued their chase.

Their suspect was a Latino kid of only eighteen, worked atthe deli, graduates high school in the summer, lives with his parents in a niceneighborhood, and if he was innocent he wouldn’t be running.

“Hey!” Zack yelled. “Police! Stop!”

Kim scoffed. Like that ever worked.

The kid ran across the street and nearly got hit by a yellowmotor cycle that stopped mere inches from him but he kept running.

Kim and Zack ran past the motorcycle barely sparing it andits rider a glace. If they had they would have seen the rider look around andmaneuver their bike around.

Kim and Zack turned into an alley where the kid was alreadyhalf way over the wire fence. Kim was so not in the mood for this. First shewas out on a case that was not her own, second, she hadn’t had her coffee yet,and third, it was too early for her to be chasing after someone through downtownAngel Grove.

“Hey!”

Zack leaped at the kid but he was already over the fence andZack was still heaving himself over.

The kid glanced behind him to see Zack almost to the top andturned around, taking off out of the alley and out of sight of Kimberly andZack.

Zack and Kimberly rushed out of the alley and looked bothways trying to locate their runaway.

“Damn it!” Kim shouted as she ran a hand through her shortlocks.

“He was a fast one.” Zack grinned as if it wasn’t a big dealthat they just lost a possible suspect.

Kim just glared at him before she heaved an exasperated sighand shook her head.

“I’ll see you back at the precinct.” She headed back toward thecafé, her hands shoved deep into her pockets, head down, and eyes on theground.

/\/\/\/\

Kim was shorting through case files trying to find any connectionto their lost possible; hoping to locate him through friends, as his familyhadn’t seen him since he left that morning. Kim typed something into thecomputer and sipped her reheated coffee.

(It wasn’t reheated. The baristas love her, they made her awhole new coffee. Kim was sixty percent of their daily tips. She stopped in atleast three times a day minimum.)

Kim hand just placed her coffee down when loud screamingcaught the attention of the whole bull pen.

Loud screaming in Spanish.

Everyone looked up to see a short woman walking in with Kimand Zack’s possible suspect who was screaming his head off as he struggled inthe woman’s hold; she dragged him in as if it were nothing and the kid had atleast a foot on her.

“No way!” Zack laughed as he got out of his seat.

The kid continued screaming and the woman rolled her eyes.

“You kiss your mom with that mouth?” She asked.

The kid cursed at her again and she smirked as she respondedto him in Spanish.

Whatever she said worked because the kid went silent as auniformed officer took the kid off her and escorted him to holding.

Zack walked up to the woman ready to introduce himself butZordon stepped out of his office.

“Gomez! You’re late!” Zordon shouted.

Trini smirked. “I came bearing gifts!” she motioned to thekid who was being led away.

Zordon rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Now, Gomez!”

Trini gave him a mock salute and made her way to his office.

Zack went back to his desk and looked across at Jason. “Whois that?”

Jason looked up and glanced at Trini. “New girl.” Jasonmumbled before going back to filling out his paper work.

Kim rolled her chair over. “What new girl?”

Jason answered without looking up or realizing that he waseven answering because if he was aware he never would have answered asnonchalantly as he did. “Zordon hired on a new detective to fill the opening.She’s supposed to be Kim’s new partner, the Brass has been bugging him about itfor weeks.”

Kim’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

Jason looked up, realized it was Kim and his eyes went wide.“Shit! I mean-“

It was too late, Kim was out of her seat and stormed toZordon’s office.

Kim threw the door to the office open and Zordon smiled ather, acting as if nothing was wrong. She slammed the door shut and leveled himwith a glare.

“Ahh, Kim, come meet Trini Gomez, your new partner.” Zordonsaid motioning his hands between the two. “Trini Gomez, Kimberly Hart.”

Trini stood up and extended her hand out to Kim. “Nice tomeet you.”

Kim eyed the outstretched hand for a moment before slowlytaking Trini’s hand and shaking it.

“Likewise.” Kim said, smiling politely, but her eyes saidshe hated every bit of this. She turned to Zordon who held up a hand, pausingthe inevitable tantrum Kimberly was about to throw.

Zordon addressed Trini. “Go out and meet the guys, haveJason bring you down to the lab to meet Billy and Alpha.” Zordon told her witha smile.

Trini gave him another mock salute and Kim a blinding smile.

She had a nice smile. Kim internally cringed; this was notthe time. She was not going to have a new partner no matter how pretty she was.

As soon as the door shut behind Trini, Kimberly whirled onZordon.

“A partner?” Kim asked, index finger pointing to the shutdoor, her eyes narrowed, and jaw set.

Zordon sighed. He knew this was coming, but god, he wishedhe could have put it off longer. “The Brass…”

“I don’t care about the Brass, Zordon, I care that you didn’teven give me fair warning to try and accept that this horrible thing washappening.” Kim practically snarled at him.

“Detective Gomez is a good cop, she is also the daughter ofa friend.” Zordon said. “So please, be nice, don’t make her time here terrible.”

Kim could tell by the look on his face that this talk wasover. She took a deep breath, schooled herself, and nodded; resigned in hersituation. “Fine. I’ll play nice.” She raised her hand in an ‘I surrender’motion and backed away.

“Thank you, Detective.” Zordon said in dismissal.

Kim left the office and exhaled heavily.

All she wanted this morning was her damn coffee.

What she got?

An early morning chase, Zack’s annoying presence before saidcoffee, and a new partner with a pretty smile that reminded Kim of the sun.

#Trimberly #prompts

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wimpyrusherwizard · 7 years ago

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“Diary of a Wimpy Kid: The Long Haul” - My review

(***WARNING!!! May contain positive opinions!!!!)

I walked into this movie feeling two separate emotions: 1) I was prepared to despise it and whatever downgrade that came along with it. And 2) I still wanted to approach this with as much of an open mind as I could and give it a chance. Apart from the recasting controversy, the surge of downvotes on the film’s trailers on YouTube that surely make A Christmas Story 2 blush (yes, that actually exists), and the scathing reviews it has received on Rotten Tomatoes, you must ask yourself a few questions…does it really warrant the critical thrashing it’s being given? Does it deserve to be shunned away from the rest of the franchise? Is it worth my time just to check it out and see what all the hate is about? Is this just a shameless cash grab to make a quick buck for Fox? Well, let’s dive in and find the answers to these harrowing questions, shall we?

This latest installment in the Wimpy Kid films follows protagonist Greg Heffley (now portrayed by Jason Drucker) and his family getting ready to embark on a family road trip for his grandmother’s 90th birthday. But after a ballpit mishap forever brands Greg as an internet meme known as “Diaper Hands”, our hero decides to use this family trip to his advantage. His plan is to reroute the van GPS to a video game convention so he can meet his favorite YouTuber, an obnoxious, catchphrase-spewing gamer named Mac Digby, and appear in his next video with the hopes that everyone will eventually forget the “Diaper Hands” incident. As the Heffleys hit the road, numerous hijinks ensue, including: another vacationing family with a crazy bearded patriarch who has it out for Greg, faulty car engines, dive-bombing pigeons who have an insatiable hunger for Cheese Puffs, disgusting roach motels, a technology ban that the mother Susan (now played by Alicia Silverstone) reinforces with an iron fist, a baby pig, and several other road movie inconveniences.

Seeing as how multiple DOAWK fans, or at least the ones I’ve come across in my life, can attest to the fact that The Long Haul is one of the weaker books in the series, the fact that they chose to adapt this book for the screen was baffling at best. To pad out the runtime, the screenwriters (one of the them being Jeff Kinney himself) borrow elements from the other books to make everything balance out and have a “cohesive narrative”. For me, the better part of the movie is the last half because that’s where the story gets you hooked and it keeps your interest in just what will happen to these characters on the rest of their journey. It’s the only portion of the film where they feel like they’re a real family and it delivers some heartwarming moments that actually got an “awwww” out of me! The first half is more plodding and meandering, confused on whether or not it should give the characters something funny to say or do and is where a solid chunk of the expected gross-out humor and groaner jokes are, playing out like a Disney Channel recut of the 2015 Vacation reboot/sequel. Be warned, easily disgusted…there’s a barf scene that will literally make you thank the sweet lord that this DOAWK movie was not released in 3D. That doesn’t mean there are ZERO laughs to be found. The comedy is present but is executed awkwardly at times, isn’t exactly up to par with the original movies, and is more scattered and sporadic. You just have to really keep focused to find the particularly humorous moments. Plus, four words: Psycho shower scene homage.

While many fans will disagree, the replacement cast doesn’t really bother me as much as I thought they would (except for a certain rock music-loving older brother in the family but we’ll get to him in a minute). Jason Drucker is aware he’s got some pretty big shoes to fill in taking over the role of Greg but you have to give this kid credit where credit is due. He’s got a bit of a young Zachary Gordon flair reminiscent of Greg in the first DOAWK movie but still manages to make this interpretation of the character something all his own. As for the parents, they aren’t too bad, either. They’re no Rachael Harris and Steve Zahn, but their acting abilities appear to be on both ends of the spectrum. Tom Everett Scott, playing dad Frank Heffley, looks slightly ashamed to be a part of the project but he toughs it out the best he can like a champ, and Alicia Silverstone on the other hand seems like she genuinely had a blast on the set and just enjoyed every second of being there. Bottom line, the brand new cast DOES pale in comparison to the original but they’re decent replacements and don’t half-ass their performances on screen. They were a pleasant surprise.

But then you got Rodrick, played by Charlie Wright. After the trailers were first released, the recasting of Rodrick was what pushed Wimpy Kid fans over the edge. “#NotMyRodrick” was a hashtag that blew up all over social media, resulting in countless upon countless internet memes and edits. I will admit, a lot of those memes are really hilarious. But one would put themselves in denial and figure, “Maybe they’re saving all the funny Rodrick scenes for when the movie comes out but now we’re just saddled with the unfunny material”. But putting the controversy aside, does Charlie Wright do the character any justice? Um…they got that Rodrick is in a band called Löded Diper and likes rock music. That’s really about it. Now, in the books and movies, he obviously isn’t the brightest bulb in the tanning bed but he was still fun. Devon Bostick was clearly going to be a tough act to follow because he brought likability to a character we’re supposed to hate. Plus, he was the original emo dreamboat in many a pre-teen/teen girl’s eye. Wright, however, either over exaggerates his lines or is way too laid back. And even then, he doesn’t really seem to take the role all that seriously and is basically winging it. Out of everyone in the film, they wrote him the laziest by dumbing him down to Patrick Star levels (oh yeah...PATRICK STAR LEVELS!!!) He confuses a hotel safe for a microwave *insert immediate facepalm here*, he literally has the line “We’ve got a pet pig, now that means we’ll get bacon every morning” *insert double facepalm*, eats nine sticks of deep-fried butter only to go on a ride at the country fair and declare “I could totally go for another stick of butter” after PUKING IT ALL UP on said ride, and plenty more but if i list everything, we’ll be here all night. The only “A” for effort he gets is for a freak-out scene near the end of the film and it’s one of the few parts that got me to laugh but I dare not give it away here!

I’m decidedly half-and-half so far, but what are the other elements of The Long Haul that need no nitpicking? The music score and the soundtrack are a lot of fun, the color palette and atmosphere pops off the screen and you feel like you’ve been transported back into the world of Greg Heffley again, and the final scene does get your heart in bizarrely sweet way. I don’t know, maybe I’m just a sucker for that kind of stuff.

My overall thoughts in general?

PROS: Most of the cast is alright, Jason Drucker is a passable Greg Heffley (I think Zachary Gordon would be very proud of him), the soundtrack, the last half is better than the first half because of its heart, only three laugh-out-loud scenes, and its aesthetic certainly feels like a DOAWK film.

CONS: Majority of the comedy comes off as confused and unsure, Charlie Wright as Rodrick (seriously, man, what did they do to your character?), the gross-out humor is too much, most of the jokes fall flat, the first half could’ve been written better, and it somehow feels much longer than the past films but yet it has the shortest runtime out of them all (90 minutes).

FINAL THOUGHTS: I can most definitely understand why critics are tearing this movie apart and why fans would do the same, too. Personally, I’m glad I at least sat down and gave The Long Haul a chance. Is it as great as the original movies? No. But for what it is, it could’ve been waaay worse! Would this have fared better by going direct-to-DVD, done as an animated special for Cartoon Network, or as a Netflix Original Movie rather than be released theatrically? Yes. Is it the trainwreck we all anticipated it’d be? Not really. It’s bad but not horrendous. Am I gonna watch it multiple times like I have with the past films? Nah, one viewing is good enough for me. While it is an unnecessary installment, The Long Haul is harmless and if you watch it only to find yourself loving it, then that’s awesome; it doesn’t make you an idiot or a bad person. It means that at the very least, you were able to find more to love in it than I could. So, if I had to give this a letter grade, let’s make it a “C” or “C-”.

#diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #the long haul #greg heffley #review #me #mine #rodrick heffley #jeff kinney #susan heffley #frank heffley #manny heffley #rowley jefferson #don't hate me everybody #i wanted to give this movie a proper review #dog days #rodrick rules #movie review

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sinrau · 4 years ago

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By Michael Scherer and

close Michael Scherer

National political reporter covering campaigns, Congress and the White House

President Trump has launched a slash-and-burn campaign against an exaggerated caricature of his Democratic opponent, casting former vice president Joe Biden as a destroyer of basic freedoms and a threat to voters’ safety who would “let terrorists roam free” and “abolish the American way of life.”

His new dystopian vision, with militant and extreme language not typical in American politics, marks a sharp departure from Trump’s previous effort to cast Biden as “Sleepy Joe,” an establishment politician with deteriorating mental abilities. It marks the latest effort, orchestrated by Trump’s advisers, to shift the conversation from rising coronavirus infections and deteriorating public support for the president’s pandemic response.

In new advertising, tweets and public statements that began to appear earlier this month, Trump has argued that the presumptive Democratic nominee is a harbinger of chaos and destruction, depicting a fantastical scarecrow largely divorced from reality.

“Joe Biden and the Radical Left want to Abolish Police, Abolish ICE, Abolish Bail, Abolish Suburbs, Abolish the 2nd Amendment — and Abolish the American Way of Life. No one will be SAFE in Joe Biden’s America!” Trump tweeted Wednesday. In fact, Biden opposes calls to abolish police or U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement, seeks new gun regulations under current judicial interpretations of the Constitution and sees the nation’s suburban voters, especially women, as a core part of his political base.

Trump’s tweeted language, along with similar comments by him Tuesday in the Rose Garden, appear to be lifted directly from an internal White House document officials said was circulated in the building days earlier. In two concise pages, the document sent by White House senior adviser Stephen Miller laid out dozens of bullet-pointed attacks on Biden, along with a brief summary of positive points that describe Trump’s “vision for the future.”

The author of many of Trump’s most pugilistic public statements, Miller has raised concerns to other White House aides that the campaign’s messaging has not been tough enough on Biden, officials said, and a cachet of White House officials have begun working on campaign issues through their private email accounts and text message chains.

In the talking points he distributed, Biden’s elevation to the White House was described as an event that would “surrender America and its citizens to the violent left-wing mob,” “import terrorists,” and “allow left-wing fascists to destroy America.” In an echo of the speech Trump delivered at Mount Rushmore on July 3, the talking points alleged that Biden will empower “the mob to rip down every statue, vilify our heroes, erase our history” and let radicals indoctrinate our children. (Biden launched his campaign with a video quoting the Declaration of Independence and has condemned the removal of statues that do not commemorate the Confederacy.)

The document also includes false, and even contradictory, policy attacks that have long been a staple of the Trump campaign’s digital advertising.

“Biden will impose a socialist takeover of health care,” the talking points document reads. “He will massively cut Medicare and Social Security.” (Biden, who has fought against Medicare-for-all, supports adding a public Medicare option for those without private health insurance and increasing funding for Social Security.)

Miller himself pushed the harsher line in an appearance Wednesday on Lou Dobbs’s Fox Business show, where he spoke about the Central American gang MS-13 and charged that Biden and former president Barack Obama “unleashed these killers into our communities” and “never apologized.” The Obama administration prioritized deportation of undocumented criminals and gang members.

Miller framed the election in nearly apocalyptic terms. “That’s the choice everyone faces: Public safety under this president or lawless mayhem under the radical left,” he said.

The White House declined to comment on the document and the president’s rhetorical shift.

Similar talking points have since been broadly embraced by federal officials and Republican operatives in their public comments, bringing a broader audience to an argument that was previously confined to conservative media, like Tucker Carlson’s prime-time Fox News program, where Democrats are regularly described as people who “hate” and “despise” their own country.

House Minority Leader Kevin McCarthy (R-Calif.) has begun arguing that Democrats want to “deface, destroy and dismantle our country,” in a clear signal to House campaigns. Secretary of State Mike Pompeo said Thursday in a speech that “the very core of what it means to be an American, indeed the American way of life itself, is under attack” from within the country.

The effort recalls some of the controversial rhetoric that Trump embraced in his 2016 campaign, when he made calls for imprisoning his opponent, Hillary Clinton. But advisers to Biden don’t believe such a strategy can work again in a time of such acute national crises. They said the claims are so obviously false and outlandish as to not be credible, and they point to the fact that Biden begins the general election with higher approval ratings than Clinton.

“Predicating this ‘new,’ incoherent nonmessage on ‘safety’ or ‘radicalism’ isn’t strategic — it’s unstable projection and desperation incarnate,” Biden campaign spokesman Andrew Bates said. “This is another tragic reminder that in a moment of unprecedented crisis, when we need real leadership more than ever, we are saddled with an unhinged commander in chief.”

Trump campaign advisers maintain that the president’s recent statements are accurate depictions of Biden, because they point out parts of his past record or the effective results of Biden’s policy push. Biden has supported cuts to Social Security and Medicare in the past. He supports less aggressive immigration enforcement policies, and he would change qualified immunity for police officers, which they argue would bankrupt law enforcement.

“I hate to break it to Joe Biden, but he has a 47-year record and I am afraid he is stuck with it,” said Tim Murtaugh, the Trump campaign’s communications director, who also argued that Biden would be further manipulated in office. “Biden is an empty vessel here. He is a Trojan horse for Bernie Sanders and the radical left agenda because he cannot stand up to them.”

Bill Stepien, Trump’s newly appointed campaign manager, views a ramped up focus on attacking Biden as a primary goal, according to people familiar with his thinking who like others spoke on the condition of anonymity to describe private strategy discussions.

“There are two reasons an incumbent wins. One, you’re doing a good job. Two, the opponent has been discredited as a better alternative,” said Mike DuHaime, a GOP strategist and close friend of Stepien. “The first one is not really up to the campaign. It’s up to the president and the White House. Second, the campaign has some level of control over and needs to do a better job.”

Trump campaign adviser Jason Miller, no relation to Stephen, has also been pushing the messaging internally, sending out morning memos to Trump campaign advisers, supporters and surrogates to drive the message. A campaign official familiar with the effort said that both Millers participated in an effort in late June and early July to improve the campaign messaging.

The advisers seized on a July 8 joint policy statement by the Biden campaign and senior advisers to Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-Vt.) to claim that Biden is abandoning his moderate record to become a tool for the left. They have also focused on a July 8 interview by Biden, where he said that surplus military supplies going to local police departments had the ill effect of making them “become the enemy” for communities they protect and said he supported redirecting some police funding.

Since then, the Trump campaign has earned the ire of fact-checkers by claiming that Biden wants to defund the police or that he considers police “the enemy,” neither of which is true. The Trump campaign has nonetheless spent nearly $14 million since July 2, according to a Democratic ad tracker, to air a television spot that suggests police departments won��t respond to 911 calls if Biden is elected.

Trump has occasionally struggled to deliver the new message. In an interview set to air on Fox News Sunday, the president claims that the Biden and Sanders statement included plans to “defund the police.” It does not, but Trump nonetheless called for a temporary stop to the interview to check the document.

“You won’t be safe in Joe Biden’s America. Your family won’t be safe, your job won’t be safe and even your words and ideas won’t be safe,” one recent Jason Miller internal email read.

The sharpened talking points have given the Trump campaign a more unified argument, after months of struggling with how to respond to the viral pandemic, the economic crisis and the nationwide protests against police brutality.

For much of June, Trump moved, often confusingly, between praising and condemning protests over racial injustice. His campaign’s television advertising praised his response to the viral pandemic, even as he prevaricated on wearing masks to prevent transmission and urged the country to reopen among rising infection rates in many states.

The talking points document distributed by Stephen Miller lays out a direct message on the coronavirus: “Our strategy is to shelter the vulnerable while allowing the young and healthy to return to work.”

In recent weeks, federal health officials have stepped up their warnings about infections among young and healthy people that has spread to more vulnerable populations.

“None of us really anticipated the amount of community spread that began in really our 18 to 35-year-old age group,” Deborah Birx, the White House coronavirus response coordinator, said on Tuesday. “We right now have really significant cases in people under 45.”

The document also claims the United States has a lower fatality rate from covid-19 than France, Italy, the United Kingdom, Spain, the Netherlands, Japan, Denmark, Germany and Finland.

According to Johns Hopkins University Coronovirus Resource Center, the United States has the second highest number of deaths as a share of population among the 20 countries most affected by the coronavirus, behind only the United Kingdom. When measured by the number of deaths per confirmed cases, the U.S. has the ninth highest rate in the world.

Recent polling has shown a sharp deterioration in public approval for Trump’s handling of the pandemic, as the number of infections and deaths have begun to rise again nationwide. A July Washington Post-ABC News poll found that 38 percent of Americans approve of his handling of the outbreak, down from 46 percent in May and 51 percent in March.

Trump advisers have urged him to address the recent spike in cases more directly, and he recently pivoted on the question of wearing a mask, by wearing one in public and saying he did not mind the way he looked. White House counselor Kellyanne Conway said Friday on “Fox and Friends” that Trump should start appearing again at daily coronavirus briefings from the White House.

Those briefings stopped after advisers told the president that some of his comments, including his suggestion that doctors find a way to inject disinfectant into people to kill the virus, were hurting his public image.

Campaign advisers say the operation is still refining a positive case for Trump’s reelection. At recent events, the president has listed off a push for school choice, improved health care, a tougher stand against China, more conservative judges and continued focus on building the economy. The Stephen Miller document adds to several platforms that echo the negative case Trump is trying to make against Biden, including defense of police and keeping borders secure.

Among the Trump visions for the future, the document lists this one: “Defend our noble history and the American way of life.”

#IFTTT #WordPress

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