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jointherebellion215 · 9 months ago

Text

Birdie

John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader

Summary: A rare night out in London has Bucky coming to terms with his feelings for you.

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mechanic!reader, songbird!reader, female!reader, she/her pronouns used, drinking culture, cursing, mutual pining, moderate bouts of denial, insecurities, women supporting women because it's what we deserve, let's pretend that The Old Therebefore is an ancient Appalachian folk song in this universe, maybe she's a Mary Sue idgaf, I just wanted to write something happy so LET ME LIVE, WWII era, there's no Y/N but reader has the nickname "Birdie"

A/N: Yeah, I'm obsessed with Masters of the Air. I had to write something for my mans before the creative procrastination literally killed me. Please leave a like, comment, or even a reblog if you're so inclined :)

You can read my OC version of this story on AO3!

Songs Mentioned in This Fic:

Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy by The Andrews Sisters

G.I. Jive by Johnny Mercer

The Ole Therebefore (Accapella) by Rachel Zegler

Disclaimer: I own nothing. This story and any recognizably named characters are based solely on dramatic portrayals of the characters from the series, not the real individuals they represent. All the respect to the actual service people who fought and died in the Second World War. Also, don't copy my writing without explicit permission. That includes you, you AI sonuvabitch.

Your heels clicked on the cobblestone streets, turning into the pub you’d heard so much about. You were out celebrating a very rare weekend off. The Brass had somehow allowed you and twenty other mechanics from base two days leave, so you took advantage of the opportunity and headed straight to London.

Your two best girlfriends from base were with you. Teresa was one of the toughest nurses you’d ever come across. She could give you a wide grin, crinkles around her hazel eyes, and reset a broken bone without breaking a sweat. It helps that she was already working towards becoming a nurse back in New Mexico, the war just sped along that process. You had bonded over your love of books, giving each other recommendations almost weekly.

You’d met Irene on the boat to England. She puked on your shoes almost thirty minutes exactly after leaving the port in New York. You gave a small grin, offering her a handkerchief and a piece of ginger candy and the rest was history. Finding out that she was a fellow mechanic was the icing on the cake. Coming in at a whopping five foot two, the spritely blonde could easily be found in a crowd with her loud Appalachian accent.

It seemed almost like fate for the three of you to have found each other. Being some of the few women on base naturally made you close, but you were closer with Irene and Teresa than any of the others. That’s not to say that you weren’t friends with any of the men, because you were. Friendly.

All three of you were dressed to the nines, in contradiction to your everyday work wear. You all got ready together in your hotel room, giggling while you applied makeup here, spritzed some perfume there. You all felt confident and were ready to have a good time. You spotted some familiar faces and made your way over towards them, your friends linked arm-in-arm with you. Lemmons was the first to greet you.

Of the fifty men on the ground crew, Sgt. Ken Lemmons was the most welcoming of them all. From the get-go, he didn’t care if you were a man or woman. He just wanted to know that you were capable. You were sure he had to go through some hazing because of his age, which probably changed his perspective on gatekeeping the job. This made earning and maintaining respect a lot easier for the women on your crew. We all came over with the same goal, it was better for all if we just helped each other out.

“Hey Birdie! Nice to see you out and about.”

Ah, the famed nickname. You tend to hum and sing under your breath when elbow-deep in a project. It helps you pass the time and clear your mind. Of course, the rest of the ground crew quickly caught on to this habit of yours, which quickly earned you the nickname “Birdie”. You, of course, never sing solo in public, so this confuses anyone who’s not around you while you’re working. But the name stuck, so here you are. Birdie.

Chairs are quickly cleared for you and your friends, which you all graciously take. You go up to buy some drinks, knowing what your friends like, and quickly return with your drinks of choice. Conversation flows, laughs are shared, and a few drinking games are played over the next hours. Teresa soon speaks up on a topic you’d been hoping to avoid.

“Do you think he’ll be here tonight?”

You shrug and look into your drink, “Dunno. Why does it matter?”

Irene, the ever supportive best friend that she is, backs up Teresa. “What do you mean ‘why’? This is your chance to finally make a move!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You quickly deny, taking another sip.

An unladylike snort leaves Irene, “My ass! You and Major Egan have been making googly eyes at each other when you think the other’s not looking for months. I’m saying it’s time for you to perk your tits up, buck on over and ride that—!” You slam your drink on the table, pressing your hand over Irene’s mouth, heat rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“Are you insane?” You whisper harshly, looking around to make sure no one overheard you. You seem to be in the clear, which makes you calm down a bit. Irene pushes off your hand, takes a swig of her drink, and consults the person who started this whole conversation.

“Am I wrong?” You look to Teresa, who cringes slightly in agreement.

You gape at the pair of them. Normally, you were the median between the two girls who had vastly differing opinions. But this is what made them come to a consensus? Unbelievable.

“Look, I’m not saying that I don’t want to.” You start, which makes your friends nod encouragingly at you. “It’s just that… Is he really as interested as you think he is?”

They both groan and slump against each other, like they’d just run a marathon. Teresa sits up, scooching your chair in closer so that the three of you were in a private triangle, cut off from the rest of the group.

“Let’s look at the facts here, okay?” Teresa starts to tick off a finger with each point she and Irene make. But you seem to always have a rebuttal at the ready.

“He brings you coffee every morning.”

“I thought he does that for everyone.”

“He constantly fixes his hair when you’re around.”

“He takes care of his appearance!”

“He walks you to the mess hall every day for dinner.”

“We just happen to be going the same way. And we happen to have the same dinner schedule.”

“He read The Hobbit when you said how much you loved it.”

“He’s an adventurous guy, it’s an adventurous book, what’s not to like about it?”

“You two literally will walk and talk outside alone for hours.”

“A man can’t have a stimulating conversation with a woman?”

“He laughs at all your dumb jokes.”

“Hey! They’re not all dumb. Like, the one with the goose and the—”

“Point proven. Anyways! He has your picture in the inside pocket of his jacket.”

That one stops you in your tracks. You brain tries to justify this meaning but comes up blank.

“He…” You struggle with an excuse. “He…” Your best friends give victorious smirks in your direction.

“He… likes the extra padding in his jacket?” You stutter over what is possibly the most pathetic, sorry excuse you could have ever come up with.

“When are you gonna admit to yourself that he likes you? Like, actually truly likes you?”

You gave a sad sigh, letting the insecurity you were feeling deep down come to the surface. “I just… He’s just so…” You had stomped down your feelings for so long that it was becoming hard to articulate what exactly you’re feeling.

“He just seems so unreal. Like, of everyone he could have chosen, why me? I mean, I know I’m great. But you’ve seen the other girls on base. They’re all so beautiful, smart, classy… and none of them are covered in engine oil ninety percent of the time.” You looked down at your hands, specks of grease and oil peeking out from beneath your nail beds. It seems like it would never completely wash out, no matter how hard you scrubbed. You hadn’t even painted your nails for this weekend, knowing it would be money wasted come Monday morning when you’re back on the clock.

Teresa and Irene share a look that you don’t see, then come forward and grab each of your hands.

“The words you just used to describe those girls. All of that is you, Birdie. That and more. You being a mechanic doesn’t make you any less of a woman, and to hell with anyone else who thinks otherwise.” You nodded in agreement, Irene’s words of encouragement slowly washing away your anxieties.

Teresa spoke up next, “You deserve someone who will rearrange the stars and the whole night sky for you. And I’m more than willing to bet that Major Egan is up for the job.”

“Besides, none of that 'unreal' stuff. At the end of the day, John Egan is nothing more than a man. If he can’t look past his nose and his d—" You gave a squeak to cover up the vulgar word Irene was about to blurt in public. She rolled her eyes fondly and continued.

“If he can’t see what you’re worth and make the effort to treat you a hundred times better than that? That’s on him. Not you. You know what you deserve, and you deserve everything you want. Absolutely everything.”

You sniffed, happy tears coming to your eyes. You brought your best friends in for a hug, thanking them profusely.

“Don’t sweat it,” Teresa grins into your shoulder “every girl needs to be pulled out of her well sometime.”

You pull back from the hug, grabbing your glass and tipping your head back, finishing the rest of your drink. “Even if he’s not gonna be here, let’s have a ball!” Your girlfriends cheer as the three of you go to the bar for refills.

One drink turns into two, which turns into a few more, and suddenly you’re buzzed. Your group are having a rambunctious time, Irene dancing by the local piano player. Once Irene looks over to you, she stops and whispers in the player’s ear. He nods, then starts a new tune. Irene starts up her voice, walking over to you and Teresa, encouraging you to join her.

The alcohol has loosened you up enough that you don’t feel the nausea you usually associate with being perceived, so you join in the harmonies you and your friends have practiced in your bunks at night.

He was a famous trumpet man from out Chicago way

He had a boogie style that no one else could play

He was the top man at his craft

But then his number came up and he was gone with the draft

Soon the whole pub was jumping and dancing along to the tune as you brought a new vibe to the pub. It was like a spark that started an entirely new night and everyone was eager to go on forever.

One song turns into an entire set, which ends with a full rendition of G.I. Jive, which had everyone singing along. It was a magical moment; made you feel like you were a part of something important.

Irene sidles up to you, giving you a hug. She says in your ear,

“I think it’s time to slow it down a bit. How about you sing that song I taught you.”

She means an old Appalachian folk song that’s been in her family for generations. You had heard her sing it one night and immediately loved the dark, but strong nature of the lyrics. It was an honor to learn it from her.

“I don’t know, it’s your family’s song and…”

“And I can’t think of anyone better to sing it to these soldiers.” You gave each other a look, her slight eyebrow raise gave you the courage to nod in acceptance. She smiled, hugging you again, her voice yelled out to the crowd.

“Birdie’s gonna sing solo!”

The announcement is met with raucous applause, Irene and Teresa shoving you towards a dodgy looking table. Crank offers a hand up, which you take gratefully. As you find your bearings on the tabletop, you quickly spin around and find all eyes on you.

The crackling energy in the air seemed to simmer, the fast-beating hearts of the pubgoers recognizing a moment to acknowledge you. Nausea starts to make an appearance, but a deep breath quells the sensation within you for the time being.

You take another deep breath. Inhale, exhale. Inhale. Exhale.

You close your eyes, open your mouth, and sing.

Meanwhile….

Majors Gale Cleven and John Egan walk down the familiar street, one eager to catch up with his fellow countrymen’s alcohol intake, the other just happy to spend time with his friends. They were arriving later to the festivities due to being caught up in filling out reports. By far the worst part of having a higher rank was the paperwork.

“It’s pretty quiet.” Buck acknowledges. “They’re usually rowdier by this point.”

Bucky sniffs, shrugging off the concern. “Ah, it’s probably nothing.”

As the two men approach the pub, they find that a crowd has formed. Soldiers, civilians, RAF, USAAF, old, young— people had obviously stopped to watch whatever was going on. It was dead silent, save for a voice singing. Was there a radio show on or something?

A familiar face peeks out at them from the crowd, DeMarco quickly waving them over.

Bucky is quick to question, “Hey, what’s going on?” but is immediately shushed by nearby crowd members. Buck cringes in apology, despite not being the one to disturb the peace. His best friend, ever unshaken by the opinion of strangers, carries on.

DeMarco leans in, whispering, “Your girl’s taking us all to church.”

“My girl..?” Bucky’s nose scrunches in confusion. He makes space through the crowd and quickly makes sense of DeMarco’s words. It was you.

I’ll catch you up

When I’ve emptied my cup

When I’ve worn out my friends

When I’ve burned out both ends

Standing on a tabletop, watchful eyes sat all around you like baby ducks flocking to their mama. You were captivating everyone with each note and word that flows from your mouth. Damn, you've got a set of pipes— a voice that belongs on the radio, in concert halls, on Hollywood records. He had no idea.

His little Birdie.

“Wow.” Buck mutters in awe from behind him, and Bucky couldn’t be more in agreement.

When I’m pure like a dove

When I’ve learned how to love

He hadn’t noticed before, but her eyes were closed. Like she needed to concentrate on each and every breath she took, every single movement her body made, before letting them out in an angelic melody.

As if by divine intervention, her eyes pop open and lock on his as she belts “how to love”

It could’ve been an eternity, for all he knows, the amount of time that they spent locked in each other’s gaze. The world pauses around them, everything frozen. Her eyes were already the kind to knock a man clean off his feet with a single gaze, but he thinks- for a brief moment- that his heart completely stops beating.

John Clarence Egan would swear every day from then on, until his dying breath, that the course of his life was altered in that very moment. He knew how it would continue from then on, and how it would end. How he wanted it to end.

Then the world starts back up and carries on.

Right here in the old therebefore

When nothing is left anymore

Her final hums are joined by a short blonde woman who stands nearby, another face he recognizes from base.

The applause that picks up after the end of the song is near deafening. The star of the hour gives a shy smile, a quick curtsy and is given a hand to step down from the table.

Everyone soon starts mingling, the normal chatter of the bar returning. But Bucky is stuck in his spot, dumbfounded. In all the conversations you’d had together, somehow this never came up. He should’ve put two and two together, as he recalls overhearing your hums one morning as he made his daily coffee delivery to you. But you had been caught off guard, so much so that you tripped off the ladder you stood on and fell. Luckily, his quick reflexes kicked in to catch you before any serious injuries occurred.

Remembering the sensation of his hands on your waist and thighs, face just inches from yours, sent his brain into a tailspin. That’s not even considering just how damn cute you were when, after a beat, you turned away from him and playfully mourned the cups of coffee that were splattered all over the hardstand.

“John. John?” A hand waving in front of his face knocks him out of his reverie. He blinks once, twice. Then looks to his best friend.

His voice comes out uncharacteristically weak in response, to which he then clears his throat and corrects. “Yes—yeah?” He pops the collar of his sheepskin jacket to try and hide the rampant red of his ears that signals the heat radiating from them.

Buck just shakes his head and gives him a knowing smile. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Egan. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“See what day?” Bucky starts to consciously return to his body, leaning on the bar.

“The day when a girl finally knocks you on your ass. I knew you had a thing for her, but that?” He points to his face and motions to indicate where they had just been standing. “That’s something else. That’s something real.”

Bucky gives another shrug in response, to which Buck throws back an unconvinced frown. He turns his head to gaze over the pub patrons and is distracted by you once again. Any denial he was about to spout immediately dies in his mouth when you lock eyes with him again and give him a dazzling smile. The world starts to fade away again.

His heart pumps faster in his chest at the sight. Damnit. He sighs, telling his best friend the truth he’s been privately wrestling with for a while now, all the while keeping his eyes locked on yours.

“I know, Buck. I know.”

Bucky smiles back at you and is elated when your face lights up. You give him a wave.

“She kinda snuck up on me.”

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sirenologyyy · 8 months ago

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EVERYTHING I KNOW ABOUT LOVE !

୨ৎ summary : wherein singer!reader books her next role in the ballad of songbirds and snakes after starring in the third highest-grossing movie of all time called avatar: the way of water, and falls for the bad guy... of course

୨ৎ warnings : cussing, that's pretty much it HEHEEHEH

୨ৎ author's note : YA'LL I've never seen laufey as a faceclaim in these before she's gorgeous. Also, your character in atwow is named Magnolia Quaritch, you're in Daisy Jones and The Six as a Jazz singer named Vienna Cartwright and a character in House of The Dragon named Theadosia Baratheon.

yourusername

tagged: @/jamieflatters @/baileybass @/jackchampion

liked by rachelzegler, sukiwaterhouse, hunterschafer, baileybass, jackchampion, livkatecooke and 176,987 others

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jackchampion DUDEEE YOU SAID YOU WEREN'T GUNNA POST THAT PIC OF ME

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yourusername

tagged: @/lionsgate

liked by rachelzegler, hunterschafer, jackchampion, tomblyth, joshandresrivera, oliviarodrigo and 500, 975 others

yourusername show our girl mira sage baird some love, the ballad of songbirds and snakes out now November 17th!

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⤷ rachelzegler duly noted

user17 y/n y/l/n as mira sage baird oh someone up there is looking out for me frl

rachelzegler

tagged: @/yourusername

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rachelzegler new york, new york - Frank Ocean

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yourusername liked this comment

user1 not Tom Blyth being down bad

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lionsgate our favorite sister duo 💕

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rachelzegler 😭😭😭

tomblyth

tagged: @/joshandresrivera @/rachelzegler @/yourusername see more...

liked by yourusername, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, ashleyjliao, hirokiberrecloth and 268, 836 others

tomblyth HG film dump. We had our flaky croissants, our chewy croissants, but alas, not one croissant on earth could live up to these beautiful people. teebosass coming to theaters near you. ❄️❄️❄️

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⤷ tomblyth what can I say

ashleyjliao 🥐🥐🥐

yourusername that cucumber salad did not taste as good as you manipulated me into believing

⤷ tomblyth hey you could use the vitamin K, you're welcome ❤️

⤷ yourusername this is what playing a pre tyrannical president of a dystopian world does to you kids

user1 yes mom 🫡

user1 AWWW THE GROUP PIC OF ALL THE MENTORS 🥹🥹🥹

⤷ user2 I'm abt to sob

user3 so excited OMGGG

user2 YA'LL THE CABIN SCENE I WILL NEVER RECOVER...

user4 sofia crying makes me wanna cry too wtf

user5 the tributes and mentors aww

⤷ user3 I'm having that picture framed and put on a pedestal

user6 Y/N getting her own picture is so cute 🫶

user7 holy shit ur right

⤷ user2 replying to user6 she literally got a single picture all to herself while the others were with someone else on every photo

⤷ user8 CHAT WHAT IS GOING AWNNN

user8 no because y/n having her own picture meanwhile everyone else had to share the spotlight is making me think thoughts...

user9 oh twitter's about to blow up and second now

user10 @/y/nsidehoe on twt 🔥🔥🔥

user11 you were amazing in Billy the Kid!

user12 RACHEL IS SO POOKIEEEE

user13 these photos are so well shot though

user14 the tributes all hugging eachother ugh MY HEART

user15 josh's posture is cracking me tf up 😭

⤷ user10 BWHAHAGSSJAJSSJS

user16 10 MINUTES AGK HOLY SHITTTT

user17 y/n's face though HELP ME

user18 Y/N NATION HOW TF ARE WE FEELING???

user19 I don't even wanna speculate anything atp remember what happened to her and Charles Leclerc?

user17 oh NAWWW they were definitely a thing, did you SEE those yacht pics?

user10 it was a shame they never confirmed it though they were so cute 😔

user20 YALL dosen't tom have a gf???

⤷ user18 nothing's confirmed, pretty sure he said him and the girl were good friends in an article somewhere LMFAO

⤷ user8 omg link

⤷ user13 (2)

⤷ user18 hold on dms

user21 josh and rachel have my heart fssss 🫶

user22 y/n nation boutta start shipping them I'm frl calling it

user23 it'll be gone in a week or so then she'll hop onto the next male lead in her next film

⤷ user22 HAAHAHA SHUDDUPPP

⤷ user23 for promo ✨️

⤷ user24 she's doing smth to these men I swear, spiking their drinks, keeping voodoo dolls of em or sumn

⤷ user23 WAIT STOP AHAHSHSAH

#tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x fem!reader #tom blyth x yn #laufey lin #coriolanus snow x oc #tom blyth imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes soc med au

196 notes · View notes

fbfh · 3 months ago

Text

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 11

wc: 13.2k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), platonic reader + mom!alice

warnings: severe mommy issues, brief touch on food scarcity and trauma, COMPHET, reader scratches her arm and bleeds a little, one use of the word purge in a non food related sense, ben has a gnarly panic attack, very mild dubcon bc mal used mind control on ben without him knowing (she didn't do anything physical with him it was just ethically questionable at the very best and the important thing is ben feels gross about it), ben very briefly contemplates involuntary manslaughter, one use of the phrase "being [someone's] bitch", comfort from reader's mom

summary: Ben and Mal go on a date. You follow a rabbit. All three of you begin to realize things of critical importance.

song recs: dream girl evil - florance and the machine, girls against god - florance and the machine, tell me I'm okay patrick - rachel bloom/crazy ex girlfriend cast, hovering - miley cyrus ft trace cyrus, when you wish upon a star ethereal remix - a.krishna, nothing is every anyone's fault - crazy ex girlfriend cast, when you wish upon a star (music box) - the by8nd, silly lullaby - natasha richardson

a/n: your outfit, your mom's outfit, optional face/voiceclaim for adult alice (it's natasha richardson)

THANK YOU GUYS SO MOTHERFUCKING MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT??????? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK. also as per ush (how do we phonetically spell the first part of usual????) fangz 2 cici 4 betaing lulz mcr rox. btwTHERE IS WONDERLAND TERMINOLOGY USED IN THIS CHAPTER!!!!!!! HERE IS THE GLOSSARY!!!!!!!!!! the tldr from memory is as follows:

brillig = late afternoon around when you would start cooking dinner

nunz = don't go (with a sense of urgancy/immediate importance)

gyre = to spin around and around like a gyroscope

mimsy = flimsy/miserable hybrid word (think sad wet pathetic little mewmew)

gallymoggers = cuckoo bananas crazy

so yeah!!! I think I got everyone from my asks and replies (LOVE YOU ALL SO FUCKING MUCH EVEN YOU SILENT READERS YES I LOVE YOU TOO LURKERS AND LIKERS AND SILENT REBLOGGERS <333 YOU SPECIFICALLY READING THIS RIGHT NOW) so if you wanna be added or I missed you just hoot and holler in the notes!! (or if you wanna be more anon you can message me too I don't mind in the slightest uwu)

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Mal has a lot of reasons to hate herself. She’s weak, sensitive, and incompetent at best on a good day, as her mother likes to say. She has no grit, no spite. She knows this, because she grew up hearing it. One of the last things her mother told her before shipping her off that god forsaken rock was don’t blow it. Mal knew from her words, from the frightening pleasantness in her voice and tension in her eyes what she really meant. The way she clamped her sharp nails down painfully into Mal’s shoulder - from a distance, a maternal and supportive gesture - the weight that this opportunity held.

If you asked Maleficent for a list of all the things wrong with her daughter, she could easily fill a book. Probably several, but Mal doesn’t think she actually cares enough about her daughter to pay close enough attention to do so. If she found out her mother put that much effort into listing her flaws, she thinks that would be the most mother daughter bonding she’s ever received. She might try becoming worse somehow, just to disappoint her mother further and give her more to work with.

Many of the things her mother thought of her, she had started to believe over time. But now, Mal finds herself in an unusual, almost funny position of being able to add a new failure, a new flaw to that eternally winding, growing list.

Mal is getting attention from a boy. And worse, she likes it.

So really, it’s two for one.

Being around Ben felt weird at first. He kept trying to kiss her, which was… gross. Mal justified it as being above all that, being too wicked and rotten for mushy gushy matters of the heart. Maybe it’s really because it’s just… too much. It’s all so much, happening so fast. A week or two ago she couldn’t be alone with anyone without trying to figure out who was going to shank who first.

She knows that’s not how Auradon works, she knows the crime rate here is basically zero, and she wonders if she’ll ever be able to shake that feeling. Like being safe is somehow worse than being in danger. At least danger is familiar. That’s probably why she’s able to strut playfully across the rickety old rope bridge the way she is. Behind her, Ben chuckles nervously, holding tight onto the sides.

It was annoying at first, all the attention. She laughed about it with Evie. Or she tried to, at least. But the more time they spend in this frilly princess infested hellhole, the more Mal notices Evie seeming… different. Their banter and mean spirited jokes that flowed so easily seem to have evaporated overnight.

She can tell Evie’s not as into it anymore. No one else could, but Mal can. She wonders if this means Evie isn’t as into her anymore. Mal wouldn’t call them friends. She wouldn’t call any of her friends friends. But no one would ever deny the bond, the loyalty between the four of them. The thought of Evie drifting away, pulling back from her like this hurts. It would be so much better if she just full on betrayed Mal, stabbing her in the back and sabotaging her. At least that way, they’d still be speaking the same language.

She thought if anyone would be excited about getting some idiotic prince in her clutches, a figurehead to manipulate and make dance like a puppet, it would be Evie. But now, for the first time in her life, Mal feels like she cares more about boys, about bagging a prince than Evie does. It’s strange. It’s unfamiliar, uncomfortable, and she doesn’t know how to fix it. How to make things normal again.

It’s not like she could even call Evie out on it, either. She’s being normal enough. Mal could see her beaming ear to ear with that dazzling, blinding smile before she even got the question out of her mouth - will you help me get ready for my… date? She gagged a little when she said that, but Evie was too busy hugging her and talking about what to do with her hair to even notice. When they talked about dresses and blush undertones - something she’s still not sure she fully understands - things were great. They were better than normal, she felt like she and Evie were more in sync than they have been in years. It felt good.

It’s when she brought up Ben that she noticed Evie’s light dim a little. Her heart just wasn’t in it. So Mal did what she does best. She deflected. She started talking about split ends, and kibbe types, and other stuff Evie has encyclopedic knowledge about that Mal has never even heard of, and just like that - boom. The sparkle was back in Evie’s eyes, the sincerity back in her smile. So Mal swore to herself that she just wouldn’t bring him up. Unfortunately, that’s proving to be easier said than done.

Ben isn’t making things any easier for her, either. He’s been so nice, so disgustingly kind and considerate that it makes Mal sick. The worst part, the thing that really fills her with dread and sickening disgust is that he’s been like this the whole time. Before this stupid spell and the stupid cookie, before the stupid tourney game. He’s been thoughtful and considerate and kind, and good since the moment they stepped foot out of the limo. If limos don’t normally come filled with candy, that means he was good and kind even before they got to Auradon.

She feels giddy around him. Sick, and giddy. Despite everything, despite a lifetime of training for this, she can’t stop leaning into it, indulging herself. It’s so fucking stupid, she barates herself even as she turns and smiles at Ben, lets him guide her through the forest.

“Tell me something about yourself you’ve never told anyone,” Ben requests gently, so gently it makes her flinch. For a moment, she’s pulled out of her spiraling maelstrom of self loathing.

“Um…” She hums out loud, silently letting herself revel in this feeling of captivating someone. Not scaring them, not grabbing them by the jaw and locking eyes while hers flare green, imposing her will, but actually having someone want to listen to her. Voluntarily, and not under threat of bodily harm.

“My middle name is Bertha.”

Ben chuckles behind her, and she turns back around away from him quickly so she doesn’t have to look at him. She’s not even sure if that’s true, and for the first time, she feels a dull pang of guilt for lying. It sounds stupid, the kind of thing no one would lie about, but Mal doesn’t even know if she has a middle name. She doesn’t know if she has a last name, other than Young Mistress of Evil, but having an embarrassing middle name sounds like something that other normal people her age would experience.

So she goes with Bertha.

She makes some little comment about her mom, and it gets a laugh out of Ben, one she tries to laugh along with.

“Mine’s Florian.” Ben says in understanding. “Ben Florian Lemaitre-Alarie Leroy de le Lumme-Mont.”

Mal turns her head away, but she can still feel his eyes on her.

“Wow. How princely.” She quips.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, trying to look at her. She starts walking again. “It’s- it’s a mouthful…”

He follows her closely, and soon they reach the end of the bridge.

“Okay, close your eyes.” He instructs, placing his hand on her shoulder to stop her.

Her stomach drops. Her brow furrows, and she shifts away from him on instinct.

“Why…?” She asks skeptically.

He pauses for a moment, then laughs sweetly at her reaction.

“It’s okay, it’s just a surprise.” He says, his voice so earnest she can almost bring herself to believe him. “You’ll be okay. I promise.”

Sixteen years of muscle memory force her to dig in her heels, to throw his allegedly good word out the window. But against her better judgment, her mind clouded with that squishy sappy dizzy feeling, that contact high she’s been getting from being around him too much, she reluctantly agrees. She knows that Ben won’t harm her because he can’t - not as long as she’s in his head.

She thinks back to the relief that flooded her when she finally pieced the plan together. She had two obvious choices; a love spell, or some sort of mind control. Mind control would have been ideal, she thought. It’s more predictable, plus it will score her some major points with her mother.

She thought about how great it would be, following in her footsteps and hypnotizing Ben with incorporeal hypnosis, just like her mother had hypnotized Audrey’s to touch the spinning wheel.

She tried her hardest, she really had. But it turns out that hypnosis with eye contact or an artifact is already hard enough to begin with. Incorporeal hypnosis is about a thousand times harder. Worse off, Mal had never been able to practice magic a day in her life. All she knew until recently was theoretical second hand knowledge, gleaned from her mother’s drunken recollections of the good old days after a few too many absinth martinis.

Mal never knew how her mom could drink that stuff. She once tried a pinky dip of the poison ivy infused gin her mother made to use in her drinks, and quickly realized it was a terrible mistake. It tasted like bitter greens and itchy, fiery spice. Her mouth was burned for a week, but her mother could easily down two or three over dinner, insisting the poison ivy gives it just the kick it needs. She asked her mother about it once, and shocked Mal when she actually answered her question instead of glaring or going off on another delusional tangent.

“Oh, it’s a dragon thing.” She sighed. “Once you’ve had fire in your mouth, nothing tastes strong enough.”

For a moment, Mal could pretend this was what things were always like. They were always a normal mother and normal daughter. She always got advice and anecdotes from her mom. She’d get scolded if she came home scraped up or too late because her mother always cared enough to notice. Then Maleficent grabbed her shoulder, bringing Mal to look out the window at Auradon with her.

“Someday you’ll know what I mean. After your first time transforming, you’ll understand.” She had chuckled. For a moment, just one moment, Mal dared to see the faintest glimmer of hope on the horizon. Maybe things will get better, her mother will care about her, be proud of her already.

“Because one day, Mal, we’re going to get out of this dump… and onto the throne. Right where we belong…”

That was the day she’d been forced to let go of that hope. Her mother doesn’t care about her, just that she can have an extra pair of hands, a faster set of reflexes and a sharper pair of eyes. But she never quite let go of making her mother proud. That still seemed like something she could try for.

That’s how she came up with the whole cookie angle. She found a simple amplification and extension spell, and managed to bake it into a cookie. Once Ben ate it, the spell would be absorbed into his system longer, making it easier to control him. After days and days of research, she came to two conclusions - one shocking, the other terrifying. Shocking was that love spells don’t actually exist. The only ones she could find word of were gimmicky ads in gossip magazines, and even those were few and far between. That’s when the second realization hit. She has to figure out how to make hypnosis work. That’s her only hope, her only chance.

Ben’s hands are strong on her waist, strong enough to make her jump and pull her from the memory that seemed to envelop her out of nowhere, hiding her from the world. She lets him guide her through the unfamiliar terrain. She tries to shake the memories, tries to get rid of that sinking, disorienting, cold feeling. Right now, she has a part to play. She has to be a good girlfriend, she has to get the wand and make her mother proud.

It’s all part of the plan. It’s part of the evil scheme, that’s why she’s acting so coy and flirtatious, that’s why she’s letting Ben keep his hands on her waist and guide her gently through the forest, his voice soothing in her ear as he instructs her on where to turn and where any rocks and branches might block her path. She keeps telling herself, reminding herself of this because maybe if she tells herself enough, she’ll be able to ignore the fact that she’s enjoying it, leaning into the attention and safe presence of Ben’s big hands and strong chest behind her.

“Oh, watch your foot… there you go.” He coaxes, guiding her past an overgrown shrub, careful to make sure she doesn’t get scratched up. “You good?”

He asks so gently, so sincerely, that Mal feels herself almost shrinking back a little.

“Yeah,” she says lightly, with a forced chuckle.

“Good,” he breathes, and she can hear the smile in his voice. He moves her so easily, positioning her so she stands just in front of him, his chest to her back. She doesn’t like how small and… dainty, and pretty, and fragile she feels around him. It’s intoxicating and terrifying.

“Okay,” he says, gentle voice spiking with anticipation. He rubs his hands up and down her arms softly, struggling to stifle his excitement.

“Ready? Open.” She hesitates, then complies. She sucks in a breath, eyes widening at the most breathtaking thing she’s ever seen.

Covered in ivy, and vines blooming with morning glory and lilac, an open air greek pavilion sits in the middle of an enticing, crystal clear lake. Even though only half of the pillars and colonnades remain, the circular stone base is solid. Buttery golden sunlight dapples peacefully through the lush flora and plant life all around them, hiding it from sight.

The lake itself - calm and so blue it’s almost green - is surrounded by rocky, grassy bluffs, just high enough to dive off of. To Mal’s shock, nothing around her looks… menacing. The cliffs aren’t jagged and ominous, the water isn’t murky and threatening. The rocks are smooth. Inviting, even. The crumbling pavilion itself seems like it’s been worn away from time, not from neglect or destruction. There’s no litter or trash, there’s no graffiti, no broken beer bottles or cigarette butts.

It all seems so… welcoming. Safe, and friendly. Peaceful. After a moment of basking in the haven of tranquility before her, she notices a blanket spread out on the middle of the stone floor. It’s a bright, vibrant blue, and is free of any stains or patches or holes. Laid out on top of the blanket like something from a magazine is a spread of the freshest, juiciest, most wonderful looking food she’s ever seen.

She gasps softly, turning to look at him, and sees he’s been looking at her the whole time. She studies his face for a moment, trying to figure out if this really is all for her. His smile tells her everything she needs to know. She lets out another breathy gasp as she turns back to the pavilion, feeling like it’s the sort of thing you’re supposed to do in this situation.

She knows it’s all pretend, playing the part of the pretty damsel like this. The type of girl who’s wanted, who strong, influential people like Ben always protect. Somehow, knowing that it’s pretend doesn’t get rid of the way it feels - the good feelings, or the sickening ones.

When the rocks have magically moved themselves to form a footpath onto the pavilion, Mal lets Ben guide her some more, and sit her down for their thing. Even thinking the word date still feels strange and uncomfortable. She’s quickly distracted from the uncomfortable knowledge that she’s on a date by how good the food is.

Good doesn’t even begin to cut it, it’s delicious. Better than that, but she can’t think of anything better than delicious. It’s the kind of food she used to dream about, the kind that would show up in lavish spreads and banquets. She would always stuff her face as much as she possibly could, wanting to get enough before she woke up. Before it could disappear.

“Is this your first time?” Ben asks softly, a knowing smile on his face. She startles slightly, forgetting he was there for a moment.

“Um…” She starts, licking the powdery sugar off her fingers. “We don’t really date on the Isle. It’s more like gang activity.”

Ben chuckles, but it’s really not an exaggeration.

“I meant your first time trying a jelly donut.” He clarifies sweetly. She pauses. She’s rudely awakened by that contextualizing feeling of abnormality. No, everyone doesn’t grow up not knowing their fruits and vegetables. No, everyone isn’t used to living off scraps and whatever can be scrounged together. It’s not a common, shared experience to have soggy boxes stacked up with nutraloaf bars shipped in on rat infested barges as an after school snack.

She blinks, trying to pull herself back to the present.

“Is it bad?” She asks cutely. Ben doesn’t chuckle like she expects. It doesn’t seem to land as endearing with him, but as a genuine question.

“Not-”

Her eyes flare green before he can finish. Once they do, Ben chuckles. He leans closer to her, smiling softly.

Wipe the sugar off her cheek. Caress her. Act like you mean it.

No sooner does she transmute the orders into his mind that he complies. He leans in as he does, more invested in the sticky powdered sugar dusting her lips, and has her mirror his gestures.

“Go like this…?” He says, licking the sides of his own lips where sugar sits on hers. She does, and he giggles again before reaching over to brush the rest off. Mal smiles, looking away coyly.

“Can’t take me anywhere, I guess…” She looks away and bats her eyes like she’s seen Evie do before. Even though it’s familiar, it feels staged and contrived. It doesn’t feel natural, but like something that anyone in her position should do, so she does it. She glances down at her hands to look for any remaining sugar, and for the first time she can ever recall, she finds herself bothered by the jagged edges of her bitten nails, the chips in her worn down purple polish.

Across from her, Ben is looking at the ground near a big old elm tree. Mal adjusts in her seat, but he doesn’t notice. She stares at him more intently, but he’s still looking off into the distance, transfixed by the place where the gnarled roots and lumpy trunk meet the grass. The illusion around Mal begins to crack. The immersion of playing princess to his doting prince starts to slip as she realizes that for the first time since casting the spell, she doesn’t have his full attention. Her expression grows stony with a cold, sick feeling as she watches his distant, almost melancholic gaze fixed on the tree.

“A tumtum what?” He had asked you one day with a chuckle.

“A tumtum tree!” You’d exclaimed back with a smile, as though you were having to explain to him something as common as clouds or air or tea. You had sighed playfully, gesturing with your hands as you explained.

“Tumtum trees have only ever been found in Wonderland. They’re quite large, even their seeds are around the size of your fist. They look like…”

You trail off, trying to think of a suitable comparison. Ben waits. He’s used to this, these pauses in your descriptions of Wonderland. The problem that you’ve found when trying to tell him about your home down there is that not everything is always like something else. It can be quite hard to describe something out of nothing, or nothing out of something. No sooner had the perfect thing popped into your mind.

“An elm tree.” You exclaim with a resolute snap of your fingers. You nod in satisfaction as you clarify, “Like a wych elm tree. A bit, at least.”

“Like which elm tree?” Ben asks, unsure if he had heard you correctly.

“Exactly.” You nod confidently, drawing a confused, familiar smile from him. Ben watches you in fascination as you continue to describe the trees in question.

“Tumtum trees are usually quite friendly. Good at watching over one when one should find oneself in need of a cat nap.” You state, nodding surely. “Good conversationalists, too.”

Ben lets out a laugh, free and organic from his chest.

“I forgot trees can talk down there,” he says.

“Some of them,” you say, then nod solemnly. “Some prefer other methods of communication, like pelting those they dislike with acorns, or pollen.”

He laughs again, contagiously, and it begins to spread to you as you continue.

“The most notable thing about tumtum trees is their roots and their bases. They’re usually quite big and tangled, curling in and out in lumpy little nests and sprawling through themselves-”

Ask about her.

It grabs him by the neck, roughly yanking him from his thoughts. He’s pulled from the pleasant memory of you, the voice destructively ripping through his train of thought.

Look at her. Look at her. You have to know everything about her right now. You’re dying to know everything about her.

The orders repeat over and over in his mind, his eyes glassy and green for the shortest moment as he’s locked into Mal’s toxic glower. The words begin to ring true. He finds himself burning with an almost painful need to know every possible detail about her. He leans closer to her.

“Tell me everything about yourself.” He asks, only hearing the question for the first time as it leaves his lips.

Mal smiles, acting surprised and flattered by the question she made him ask.

“Well,” she starts with a soft sigh, as if trying to find where to begin, “I’m sixteen. I’m an only child, and… I’ve only ever lived in one place.”

The poisonous light glows from her eyes for a moment, casting strange shadows around them. Ben responds quickly, as if he were waiting for a cue.

“So am I! We have so much in common already,” he laughs, leaning closer. Mal laughs too, leaning away.

“No, not as much as you might think.” She glances away, then back up at him. “Anyway, you’re going to be king soon, huh?”

Ben’s laughter grows stale, and he begins to get that distant look again, the same one he had when looking at the elm tree.

“A crown doesn’t make you a king.” He says softly, more to himself than to Mal.

“Well… it kind of does, yeah.” Mal says dryly. She waits for another laugh, but no laughter comes.

“Your mother is the mistress of evil, my parents are the poster for goodness, but-” he hesitates, searching for the right words. “That doesn’t mean we’re automatically like them.”

He finishes quietly, eyes falling down to his signet ring. Even with his mind a blank slate, weaved around Mal’s fingers like an obedient snake, he can still feel all the pressure, all that he has to live up to. Everything he wants to be is still right on the horizon.

“We choose who we’re going to be.” He finishes softly.

Across from him, Mal’s heart pounds. She didn’t make him say any of that. She didn’t tell him to, he did it himself. He said that she’s not like her mom. He said that. Her heart pounds, and she wants so badly for him to say it again. His words ring in her mind like a bell, over and over. We choose who we’re going to be. No one had ever said that, or anything remotely like that to her before. No one had ever made her believe it.

Those strange shadows dance across Ben’s face again, and Mal squeezes her trembling hands, trying to calm herself.

Say it again, Ben. Tell her. Say she’s not evil. Say it. Tell her right now. Tell her she’s not evil. You don’t think she’s evil.

He leans in even closer. He moves his hand onto her cheek. He locks eyes with her, oblivious to the shared glowing green light between them.

“I can look into your eyes and… tell you’re not evil.” He says with certainty. “I can see it.”

He moves closer, letting his eyes drift shut softly, tilting his head to the side-

Mal jerks away, letting go of the active control with a sudden drop. She lets out an uncomfortable laugh, scooting away from him. The pressure on his chest eases, and it almost feels like he can think again. Having a modicum of control over his thoughts and actions again, he stands up. He nods his head, gesturing for Mal to join him.

“Come on. Let’s go for a swim.”

“Uh-” Mal falters, eyes darting between Ben and the water. “Um, no. I think I’m okay.”

“It’ll be fun,” Ben coaxes with a smile.

“I- I think I’m gonna stay behind and try a strawberry. I’ve literally never had a strawberry before.”

She grabs a nice juicy berry and bites in, humming performatively for Ben. It takes a moment for the flavors to explode in her mouth. She can’t believe something so delicious could come from a plant. It’s so sweet, and a little bit tangy, but in a good way. It’s a different sort of sweet than sugar, though. She can’t put her finger on exactly what it is, but there’s a light twist, a depth and complexity to the taste that she never could have imagined. It somehow tastes like a bright clear morning and a darkening rich sunset all at the same time.

“Mmmh…” She hums, for real this time, taking another bite. She eats the whole berry - stem and leaves included - and Ben chuckles softly. He says something she doesn’t catch, then goes off to swim. The moment he leaves, Mal has only two things on her mind.

Strawberries are fucking delicious, and Evie is going to love this. All of this. Picnics, strawberries, pagodas or pavilions or whatever the hell they’re called. She can see it clear as day; taking Evie out here with Carlos and Jay, the two of them can sit and talk while the boys are off splashing in the water. Evie will be so excited that she makes her and Mal matching sundresses in their colors - blue and gold, and purple and green.

They can eat strawberries and laugh when the juice gets everywhere. They can throw shells and tourney balls into the lake for Carlos and Jay to get to keep them busy while she and Evie talk. Mal will scoff and laugh and roll her eyes when Evie reminds them all to wear sunscreen. She and Carlos will agree, but Jay will insist he doesn’t need any, and they’ll spend the following week treating his sunburn. Evie will insist on braiding Jay’s hair or twisting it up into some kind of bun or ponytail so it doesn’t get tangled.

She’ll make Mal hold all the bobby pins and hair ties, and she’s sure Evie will have some sort of goop to put in Carlos’s hair so the water doesn’t turn it green. What’s that called again? Evie had been going on and on to Mal before they left for Auradon about how some water can turn blonde hair green. Cholera? Fluorine? Chlor… chlorine maybe? Yeah, that sounds right. There’s no chlorine in the water in the Isle, but since it can affect your hair, Mal’s not surprised that Evie knows everything about it. She doesn’t know if lake water has chlorine, but she’s sure if hair is on the line that Evie will be cautious.

She’s only pulled from her hazy strawberry high when the berries have run out. She catches a remaining drop of strawberry juice on her finger from the edge of the bowl, and brings it to her lips. She looks around and sees Ben on top of one of the taller grassy bluffs. He waves at her, and after a moment she waves back hesitantly. She looks at his swim trunks, then yells across the lake.

“Are those little crowns on your shorts?”

Ben smiles a little, remembering when you had helped him pick them out.

“Maybe,” he calls back.

He lets out a loud, animalistic roar, then jumps.

She looks away before he hits the water. Her eyes fall down to the empty bowl of strawberries, the ones Evie would love. The ones Ben provided her with. She starts to relax a little now that he’s not watching her. Her facade, her perfect princessy persona starts to slip. She relaxes - her shoulders, her jaw, her posture, the grip she keeps on Ben.

She takes a few deep breaths, trying to reorient herself, to figure out how she feels. She’s so confused, unused to acting sweet - at all, but especially around other people. She has to keep it together. She needs to use these few minutes of Ben swimming to make sure she has her head on straight and her eyes on the prize. She has to stay focused, stay grounded.

She clenches her fists so tightly that her nails, bitten short and chipped with a deep plum polish, dig into her palms.

She hopes the slight sting will get her head back where she needs it. The pain is good. A reminder of where she came from, what she’s here to do. She tries, but this time, it’s not enough. Not anymore. She shakes her head a little, hoping it will clear her mind, make her feel like herself again. Her hair is fried under all the purple dye, and she can tell it’s growing frizzy from the humidity and movement. She lets out an annoyed huff, and reaches up, trying to fuss with it until it looks like Evie made it look before.

Are you kidding? The thought shows up suddenly as she catches herself worrying about her hair of all things. Realization sets in that not even that is enough to snap her back to herself. A sense of shame washes over her as she realizes how deep in all this she’s getting. In the moments after that realization, her mind begins to wander. It goes further and further from anything she had ever let herself think before.

Maybe she could… make this work. Maybe there’s a shot at pulling it off. If she could keep Ben under her spell a little longer than necessary, she could make him fall in love with her for real. She can implant so many thoughts and repeating orders until it scrambles his brain and… makes it real somehow. Then he’ll want to look after Mal on purpose, not on principle. He can get her and her friends into witness protection or something, get some guard gargoyles and knights to watch over them.

She can talk Ben into giving her a little cottage deep in the woods - it will be safest for them there anyway. And that’s what he wants, for them to be safe. He wants that because Mal wants that, and when a prince like Ben loves someone, he makes sure they have whatever they want most. And what Mal wants most is a safe, secure, roomy cottage in the woods for her and Evie, Jay and Carlos. They’ll have a little lake just like this one, and maybe like, some ducks or something. Cats, or snakes, or whatever makes a good pet.

Jay can chop the firewood, and Carlos can fix the computers whenever they get weird. Mal still barely understands how to use smartphones and dropbox, but Carlos has taken to all that stuff like… well, like his mom takes to furs. She’ll make sure there’s a nice big room for Evie to sew, and she won’t complain as much when Evie uses her as a dress form. They’ll have more delicious, fresh food than they can eat, and they won’t need to worry about any of this anymore.

She’ll reluctantly let Evie teach her how to use blush, and style hair.

They’ll sit in the nice sunshine in the fresh clean air all day. She’ll make Evie crowns from all the pretty flowers that grow here so she can have as many crowns and tiaras as she wants, and Jay and Carlos can play tourney and climb trees and do whatever else they’re always doing. She can see it clear as day; Evie’s head resting in Mal’s lap while Mal uses her spellbook to weave together flowers, enchanting them to make them sparkle while Jay and Carlos laugh and roughhouse nearby.

They’ll still share bedrooms. That’s the one thing Mal has actually kind of liked since moving to Auradon, sleeping in the same room as Evie. Getting to be close to her. She’s sure Jay and Carlos sleep better knowing they’re not by themselves, too. Maybe if the cottage is kind of small she and Evie can share a bed. She’d be fine with that. They’ll bake non magic cookies and eat strawberries, Evie will have all the ingredients she needs to make every kind of face mask and hair mask and lotion she could dream of.

Ben will come and check in on them sometimes. Not very often, just once in a while. He’ll stop by and make sure they’re safe and protected and left alone all the time, because that’s what princes do when they’re in love with someone. They’ll never leave unless they want to, and they’ll have VIP tickets to all the balls and galas and sporting events in Auradon. Mal will go with them, because she knows things wouldn’t be the same if she stayed behind. Even though parties are boring and sports are dumb. But as long as Evie’s having a good time, she’s sure she can handle it.

If only… if only she could figure out that it’s a sure thing. Then she’d be all the way in.

You can’t recall a time your heart pounded in your chest like a jackrabbit as it does now, as you tread through roots and bushes and grassy forest terrain to the enchanted lake. You’ve been following the white rabbit who had alerted you to Ben’s whereabouts until you arrived at the lake. You find a little hidey-hole in the brush and gnarled roots of an old elm tree within eyeshot of the pavilion, and crouch down. You can almost make out what he’s saying, but not quite.

You fumble for your teapot bag, digging around for something you’re sure must still be in there.

“Come on, come on…” you murmur frantically. You let out a gasp as your fingers close around the monocle, and you pull it out quickly. You’d pawned it off a ring of ring-a-ding worms in Wonderland several months ago. You weren’t sure how trustworthy they were - which usually means not very trustworthy at all if you’re doubting it in the first place - but you simply couldn’t help yourself. The monocle was a very old sort of subtitling spectacle, a kind of eyewear that lets you see what people are saying. They’re not always right, nor are they always perfect, but right now you’re desperate.

“Please please work,” you ask the glass silently before holding it up to your left eye. You squint at Ben and Mal, and between the fragments of conversation reaching your ears and the monocle, you’re able to understand things a bit better.

“...You’re not evil. I can see it.” Ben says to Mal, as you watch and listen to his words intently. The sun is closer to setting and brillig draws nearer, basking everything in that not quite sunset glow. You try to crawl closer to see and hear better, not even noticing when you nearly lose one of your shoes in your efforts. You rub your eyes in disbelief, waiting to see what they say next. An elm leaf falls, tangling itself in your hair, and you find yourself unable to believe what you’re seeing. If you were using two monocles, you would surely dismiss it as the subtitle spectacles breaking. Unfortunately, there’s no disguising the truth you see before you.

Ben leans in to kiss Mal, and you recoil backwards, suddenly and in shock. Your stomach twists in that terrible way, and you’re sure you’re going to be sick. You grip the grass tightly, hoping it will stop your head from spinning. This doesn’t make sense. None of this makes any sense, or nonsense at all. The world around you makes positively nothing. You can deal with chaos, with spontaneity, but this? This is just cruel. The world is… mean for making you live through this.

You summon a rabbit hole back down to Wonderland faster than you can blink. You tumble down, dirt sprinkling down on you as you fall. Right before you’re swallowed by the earth, you scratch your arm on a rough patch of bark and roots. You catch a glimpse of your blood and tears falling in beads before you’re shrouded in darkness, blurry and delicate. They dance together like pained flurries of your heart and mind’s shared turmoil. You let yourself fall carelessly, the stuffy air disturbed by your stifled sobs slipping out where you don’t want them to.

You don’t plan on staying long at all. You just need a few moments to collect yourself, to gather your thoughts. You take in a few deep, heavy breaths, your brow furrowing with determination. You must overcome this. You must stay focused. You have to if you’re going to have any chance at helping Ben. You let out a sharp breath with a sharp little noise attached to it, and you can feel your head coming back in place. There will be time to deal with all of this, there will be time to cry, but that time is not now.

The second Mal turns away and pulls her face from his gentle embrace, Ben takes in a deep, panting breath, feeling like his chest is suddenly less tight than it had been. He hadn’t noticed it before, but he feels the absence of his contracting muscles and shallow breaths now that they’re gone. He immediately looks back over to that elm tree, the one he was looking at before. For a moment, just a moment, he could swear he saw your fingertips, the ends of your hair, the dark glint of your silky blackberry bow falling into the earth. But he blinks, and whatever might have been there or not is gone too quickly to tell.

He shakes his head a little, hoping to reorient himself, but a breeze blows by and he could swear on anything there’s a trace of your scent carried in the air. The faintest hint of something so quintessentially you - your perfume, your smell, your blood. His chest squeezes again, this time with longing.

He’s about to realize how long it’s been since he saw you, about to realize this is the longest he’s gone without even speaking a word to you, but something drags him back, keeping his thoughts here and now. He turns back to Mal, with that dull, throbbing headache he hasn’t been able to shake since the tourney game.

“Let’s go swimming.”

The enchanted lake is one of Auradon’s hidden gems. It was a gift to the newly united front of Auradon as a whole from the gods of Olympus; a thank you, an offering of goodwill for assisting in the containment of Hades. Hercules and Megara had gone through many lengthy strategy sessions and battle plans with Adam and Belle, trying to figure out how to prevent Hades from another attempt to overthrow Olympus. Adam and Belle knew that Hades was dangerous - he is a god after all - but they had no idea the extent and reach of his power.

The First Villain Uprising was a dark time that spread over many years. Most people know the events of VU1; the poison apples, the sleeping curses and dark magic. They’re familiar enough with the coups and the curses, the unregulated dark magic running rampant through the land, wielded by power hungry loonatics. Villains. Brave leaders and heroes in countries from down near the Southern Isles to way up north in Winter’s Keep refused to cower in the face of evil. They did everything they could to stop it, and for many years the villains were presumed dead.

The problem came from all the different countries not having a united front, not communicating with each other. There was no teamwork, no global council, so no one knew that the moment Maleficent was pierced through the heart by the sword of truth was the same moment Hades had managed to claw his way out of the river styx. The first thing he did once he got his bearings was drag Maleficent down to the underworld. She wasn’t dead, not quite yet, and they both saw the opportunity before them. A combination of Maleficent’s dark fairy magic and Hades’ rule over the souls of the dead meant they could drag the worst villains back from the depths.

That was the start of the Second Villain Uprising.

When the rulers figured out what was happening, they knew they had to band together, be stronger as a whole. That’s when Adam gathered up as many kings and queens as he could to start planning the first crusades. Fairy Godmother sent word out to the most powerful wizards and fairies and sorcerers she could, pleading for them to join the fight against evil.

It didn’t take long to start rounding up villains, but they needed somewhere to put them. Eventually, Fairy Godmother devised a plan. With the help of Merlin of Camelot, Yensid of Schwartzvald, the Great Genie of Agrabah, and the Three Good Fairies of the Moors, they were able to create a magic barrier around an abandoned isle off the southern coast of Belle and Adam’s kingdom. This became known as the Isle of the Lost, the only secure place where villains and all the evil they bring with them can’t escape.

As a thank you to the mortals down below, the gods gifted them with the enchanted lake, right in the heart of Auradon. Each god added a blessing or a gift of some kind, which is how it got such steadfast healing properties and good magic. The lake itself is magical, which is something that Belle and Adam decided not to advertise during the aftermath of the expulsion of evil.

There was so much terror and fear in the land, people afraid of something going wrong, of some new villain popping up right when they let their guard down. Adam and Belle decided to keep the lake’s properties under wraps for the most part, preemptively stopping any attempts to stockpile or weaponize magic purely to get the upper hand in a magic cold war that has long since ended.

The cleansing and healing properties of the enchanted lake are simplistic, but effective. Ben remembers a time when he was young, there was a brief few weeks when Adam seemed to lose control over shifting his form from man to beast. His condition was ultimately traced back to stress, a comorbid symptom of some nasty migraines, and high cholesterol.

Rumors of his condition began to circulate, and Adam found himself splashed across the covers of gossip rags on newsstands and store checkouts. Fairy Godmother was able to fix him right up, and instructed him to fully submerge himself in the enchanted lake once a week for about a month or so. He followed her instructions to the letter, and was soon back to rights.

As he stands on the small cliffside overlooking the serene, enticing water, Ben’s not sure what jogged that memory, or why it’s at the front of his mind right now. He shakes his head a little, but it keeps coming back, tugging at him like a child vying for their fathers attention.

“Are those little crowns on your shorts?”

Ben glances over at the pavilion where Mal sits. He looks down, then chuckles.

“Maybe,” he calls back. Their eyes lock as Mal gathers her thoughts. Ben can feel it, the tightness coming back in his chest. Before it reaches all the way up to his head, his instincts kick in. He lets out a loud roar, then he jumps.

The water hits his skin. Instead of cool and refreshing, just the way he remembers it, it feels like a freezing cold burn. The world goes quiet as he sinks deeper and deeper into the lake, eyes widening in shock at the unpleasant, almost painful feeling. His skin burns, and he scratches at his arms and legs and chest. His hands move, frantic and sluggish in the water as he itches his neck, then his cheeks, then his head…

He freezes, muscles relaxing, limbs falling still as the water soothes him and purges the last of the fizzing magic out of him. He had no clue what was happening until it was over, and now, hovering underwater, it’s over. He knows he can’t have been down there for too long, but it’s when his instincts scream at him to hyperventilate that he realizes he’s still underwater. His eyes widen, and he fumbles, swimming to a rock hidden from the shore.

He drags himself out of the water, chest heaving, body shaking. The surface of the rock is smooth, but he struggles to maintain his balance. He manages to flip over and lean back on the rock, praying for some stability. His free will, his mind, his cognizance is all coming back to him at once. He feels like a computer flashing a blue screen from too many programs running and downloading at the same time.

He clutches his chest, unable to control his breathing. The disorientation starts to fade and his eyes widen with horror as the reality of the situation starts to set in, cutting through the painful panic gripping him. Mal… drugged him. Or worse, cursed him. His stomach drops, twisting sickeningly, his hands trembling out of control. He’s not normally like this. He never lets himself get like this. He heard stories about extremely powerful villains being able to use mind control or hypnosis on rare occasions, but he never expected it to feel so… violating.

His gaze drifts downward to the rippling water. No one can know about this. This can never get out. If even a whisper of this gets out, the consequences and aftermath would suffocate him. She just jeopardized the entire future of the United Republic of Auradon. She could very well have just pounded nail after nail into the coffin containing the lives and futures of all those poor kids stuck on the Isle, the ones she claimed to care so much about. She may have destroyed lives, futures, an entire nation, for… what?

He tries to figure out why. Why would she do this? She has to have some sort of motivation for reaching into his brain and jerking him around like a puppet, making a fool of himself in front of the public. Oh god- he thinks, remembering the tourney game. He never acts like that. He never acts erratic or impulsive. What must his parents think of him? What must you be thinking of him right now? Or the entire country?

His throat tightens up as he starts to panic again, mind already clouded by the doom of plummeting in the polls. He’s unopposed for king, but after a disaster like this, who would want him? Someone else will run and win, because no one in their right mind would trust someone who voluntarily lets themself become a villain’s personal sock puppet to run a goddamn country! He breathes harder, flexing his fists open and closed until his knuckles go white. Why would she do something like this? What does she want from him, a second date?

He pauses. That must be it. A new wave of rage overcomes him as he realizes - unless he’s given a miraculously better explanation for this - that Mal pressed a self-destruct button for the entirety of Auradon because she has a crush on him. A stupid, goddamn teenage crush. And now his political career will be over before it could ever start because of it. He’s going to be the first king to be impeached before he’s crowned. He can’t stop spiraling, can’t stop the racing thoughts drowning him above the water.

A loud, animalistic roar tears from his chest. It’s much more primal, more beast-like than he ever allows himself to be, but he supposes that it’s understandable for something like that to slip out given the circumstances he finds himself in.

“Breath,” he tells himself, swallowing thickly. “Breathe.”

If he can’t get his head right, if he can’t be smart about this, it… well, that’s not even an option. He has to collect himself. He has to live up to the person his parents think he is, his country thinks he is, that you think he is. He has to be that person. He only has a few moments of this realization to reorient himself before he hears Mal’s voice.

Instead of enticing and distracting like it had been before, now it feels like the lure of an angler fish’s light in the murky depths, it feels jarring. He shudders, recoiling like she just threw glass at him. She calls out for him again. This time, he can hear the spike of fear carried along in her voice as it echoes across the lake. Is she hurt? In trouble? He starts to go check on her, then for a moment, he hesitates.

All the thoughts racing through his mind like the piston cup find their way to the forefront of his head again. His chest aches as he relentlessly beats himself up over this. How could he let this happen? This is exactly what his parents warned him about, what he promised them - gave them his word - that he would not let come to fruition. And yet, here he is, sitting on a rock with the livelihoods of innocent people at risk because of him and his naive, stupid optimism.

This, the wellbeing of all innocent people of Auradon, is what he’s devoted all of his time and power and care and focus and everything else he’s got within him into. All that work, all that potential for good, and now he lays paralyzed below the sword of Damocles. He can only stand there, watching the ropes fray one after another.

“I can’t…” he pants, chest squeezing in terror again. “I can’t let this happen.”

He swallows hard, muttering to himself.

“Can’t let them win.”

He can’t let Mal achieve whatever the hell her endgame is here. He has to stop this before it gets worse. And above all, this cannot become known to the public. He can see the faces of disappointment and fear on the members of the council, on the senate. He was never ready to be king, they’d say in hushed, justified tones, the boy is a fool! How could we let him bring evil into our homes on purpose?!

The voices in his head go on and on, painting the worst outcome possible in vibrant colors. The nation will lose any trust or faith they might have had in him. More painfully, he realizes how deeply disappointed his parents will be in him. The kind so irreparable that they can never even speak of it. His father will go silent, his mother will try to smile at him, but her tears will give her away. Disappointing his parents, disappointing you…

Oh god, you. Where are you? Where have you been during all of this? You and Ben are usually joint at the hip, but he hasn’t seen you in days. The realization makes him feel sick, like he’s just come to the realization that he hasn’t had air to breathe. What have you been doing without him? Have you been in Wonderland, or at the Wonderland Embassy with your mother? Why haven’t you texted him? Or at least called? Worse fears attack him relentlessly from the inside out, worse than ruining innocent lives or his political career because these fears are about you.

A scream, followed by a large splash, then another more fearful scream pierce his senses, pulling his attention out of the momentary panic over you and your wellbeing. It must be Mal, he thinks, it has to be. She’s the only other person out here. She must have gotten into the water to look for him, but why does she sound like she’s struggling? He listens intently for a moment. She definitely sounds like she’s struggling. He stands up to jump into the water and find her, but before he can, something unusual happens.

He hesitates.

After everything she’s done to him, and to the people of Auradon, after she stabbed him in the back and violated his free will for days, should he even bother trying to help her? What if this is part of some elaborate ruse, luring him into a trap by pretending to drown. Maybe she’s going to turn him into a bug and trap him in a jar, letting him suffocate slowly while she shakes it and laughs.

What if she just… had an accident? Anyone could drown in a lake if they weren’t being careful, and he’s sure children of villains aren’t raised to be super cautious. Maybe it would be better that way. It would certainly give Ben one less problem to worry about, one less moving part to constantly keep track of.

He dives back into the lake, swimming towards her. He bites his cheek, dismissing the fleeting, impulsive thought as quickly as it could intrude into his stream of mind. He’s not even going to waste time considering it or letting it argue his case. He knows who he is, and he knows who he chooses to be. He is never going to choose to be the kind of person who lets someone else get hurt when they can do something about it.

If he can help anyone - regardless of who they are or what they’ve done to him - he’s going to. Even if it’s from a distance, he can’t knowingly be complicit in tragedy befalling anyone. That’s why he’s bringing over the kids from the Isle in the first place. He can’t sleep at night knowing that there are people struggling and suffering while he has the power to do something about it.

He has to give his parents credit for raising him to have such strong moral character. That’s why, against his better judgment, he swims as fast as he can back to the pavilion. It only takes a moment for him to see her, kicking and flailing mere feet from the pavilion.

He dives as deep down as he can. He hopes that the longer he’s under the water, the more submerged he is, the less likely any more magic she tries on him will succeed. Or at the very least, she’ll have less time to try and pull something on him. His hand skims the bottom of the lake, brushing against something uncharacteristically sharp. He sees a cluster of glowy crystal like geodes - a wishing stone, he realizes. He grabs it, and shoves the rock into the pocket of his swim trunks.

It’s not much, it’s barely anything really. But he’s sure any mildly sharp object is infinitely better than nothing when facing off against an unpredictable dark fairy. Trying to use a wishing geode to defend himself from dark fairy magic - either as a magic shield or a physical weapon - is like trying to use an umbrella in a hurricane. He’s really going into this blind, but at least he’s aware of the disadvantage he’s working against. In spite of all the massive errors and failures he seems to have accumulated out of nowhere, he can at least say he’s not stupid enough to be entirely unarmed at a time like this.

He can see Mal, splashing and thrashing about, slipping below the surface as she loses her footing. He rushes closer and grabs her, scooping her up and confidently walking them both out of the lake. He catches his breath, focusing everything he’s got on one thing - he cannot let Mal know that he knows. He has to keep his face neutral, act sweet and normal, not say or do anything that could possibly tip her off. He’s in the lion’s den, and one wrong move could ruin everything beyond repair.

He silently thanks his parents for years and years of diplomatic training, for teaching him how to maintain his composure no matter how overwhelming his emotions are, no matter how much pressure and scrutiny he finds himself under. He reaches the pavilion in just a few steps, and sets Mal down gently. She doesn’t seem to notice anything about his behavior is different, so he keeps doing what he’s been doing. It seems to be working so far, which provides him with the briefest sense of relief.

“Ugh!” She shrieks. He shakes the water out of his hair, trying to clear his head, and she swats at his chest, “You scared me!”

Ben falters for a moment, nearly letting a grimace loose at the nauseating feeling of disgust permeating him from this, from having to be so close and sweet to her after she violated his mind, his free will. And she did it on purpose.

“Uh,” he starts, trying with everything he’s got to sound so light and casual, like she made him sound before. “You… you can’t swim?”

It’s really not that important to either of them right now, but it’s the first thing he can think of that doesn’t start with why the hell or how the hell or jail.

“No!” She yells indignantly, like it should be obvious.

“But you live on an island.” He notes. He never would have been able to challenge her under the curse she cast on him, not even something as small as asking why she can’t swim. He watches her expression closely, wondering if she’ll notice.

“Yeah, with a magic barrier around it, remember?” She demands incredulously. There’s a shrill tone to her voice with a venomous sting, like Ben was the one who cast her out and put up the barrier himself. He flinches at the sound of her voice.

She can’t swim. She nearly drowned looking for him, and he let himself consider allowing it to happen. A stab of unwelcome but justified guilt catches him off guard for a moment, causing him to falter.

“And… you still tried to save me.” He murmurs solemnly, mostly to himself.

He hates this. He hates that she did something so horrible and so kind to him right after each other. It’s tempting to dismiss her searching for him in the lake, to let himself focus only on the pain and damage she’s caused in such a short time, and he tries desperately to cling to his moral values. Values that he’s always sworn to himself he will never abandon, no matter how hard or complicated things get.

Now here he stands, looking hard and complicated square in the purple framed face.

People are nuanced, he tells himself, trying to remember it. Nobody is all good or all bad. People… people are complicated. It’s a hard philosophy to hold onto, and an even harder one when you’re the one that’s been made a fool of, made to dance around in public and cater to her every whim. It’s hard to remember that people are nuanced, not all bad when you’ve been made into someone’s bitch.

“Yeah, and do you thank me?” Mal demands rhetorically, “No!”

He struggles to follow her. Her voice makes him flinch, buzzing around his head like an angry hornets nest. It makes his ears ring. He feels that strange, painful headache stirring up again - the one that got worse and worse every time she forced her voice into his mind.

“All I get is soaking wet!”

She looks at him expectantly, then huffs. It sounds exactly like the noise Audrey would make when she wanted something that wasn’t handed to her instantly. A new wave of indignant rage begins to bubble and boil up inside him as he realizes what she wants. She wants him to grovel. She wants him to apologize, and kiss her hands, and beg for everything to be smoothed right over. He swallows hard, managing to contain it. Just barely.

In a split second, he realizes he has to do something. The more time they spend together, the sooner Mal will realize she doesn’t have control over him again. If she finds out, that will open up more trouble than Ben would care to count. He has to pacify her, just enough to get them both home as fast as possible. Before she can do anything else to him.

He reaches into his pocket, handing her the geode.

“And this, uh… this fancy rock.”

His stomach twists, spiking with anxiety as he offers it to her. Wishing stones - also called wish geodes - are a natural and common byproduct of fairy magic. They can vary in strength and appearance based on what fairy they came from, and since they usually form underground or by bodies of water, they can be hard to find. They’ve become even harder to source in recent years as less and less people use magic - fairies included.

The ones near Auradon are from Fairy Godmother’s magic. The ones way up north in Schwartzvald are from the mainland forest fairies deep in the Fantasia Woods, the ones out west are from the Blue Fairy, and any wish geode you find on the northeastern coast will always be from Flora, Fauna, or Merriweather. Since wish geodes are essentially nature’s way of recycling magic leftovers, they’re usually not too strong. Unless they were charged up with something, like a blessing, or a falling star, or enchanted spring water from Olympus.

Ben, however, is painfully unaware of this. He hasn’t studied magic and magic theory as extensively as you have. He suspects sometimes that you may know more about magic than the good fairy herself. He does know some introductory magic theory, and a few little facts from you that he’s remembered over the years.

What he does know is that wishes and hypnosis or mind control or whatever the hell Mal did to him are two completely different kinds of magic. He knows that if he gives Mal the stone, even if she did wish for something, it couldn’t possibly do more damage than she’s already done. At this point, it’s the lesser of two evils. Really, it’s the only viable option he’s got. The geode shimmers and glitters, glowing softly against her skin in a luminous pearly hue. She glares up at him, and he plasters on a smile. Hopefully, a convincing one. He gestures back behind him.

“Make a wish, and throw it back in the lake.”

Unless her goal of hypnotizing him was to somehow end up with a good grade on the next test, or a really good hair day, this rock will do nothing for her. It’s just not strong enough on its own, which makes it the perfect placebo. Mal scowles up at him, and winds up to throw the rock bitterly into the lake.

In that moment, her heart’s unsung desires cry out desperately, begging for something that not even her mind can grasp. I wish what he said was true, her heart cries, that he doesn’t think I’m evil. I wish Ben would keep being nice to me, even after I break the spell. I wish Ben would defend me from all the people who act like they’re afraid of me, I wish he would make me feel like I belong here!

The rock sinks into the water, bubbling and glowing as her desires are realized. A soft whispered voice floats into the air, seeming to speak only to her.

“Malorie Valda Faery, Princess of the Moors and Young mistress of Evil… your wish has been heard, and your wish has been granted. So long as you do not act on the evil inside your heart, and stay trustworthy, honest, and kind, he shall see no evil inside you.”

It’s so faint, so hard to hear that she thinks she must have imagined it. She falters, thrown off guard for a moment, then stands up and shakes off some of the water still clinging to her. The glowing water swirls and pools around Ben. An almost ticklish, tingling feeling floats down onto him. It’s so light and so soft, it’s gone so quickly that he struggles to remember if it really happened.

He takes in a breath, his brow softening as he realizes the panic is retreating. A breeze blows by, carrying the scent of magnolia and the impending night air that quickly makes its way closer to them as the sun sinks. Little goosebumps prickle down Ben’s arms and back as his defenses begin to relax back to normal. He picks up his varsity jacket to wrap around Mal, and grabs a towel for himself. The last thing either of them need right now is to catch a cold.

He takes a few more breaths as she sits down, mildly puzzled at why it’s so easy to breathe now, but so difficult just a few moments before. He searches every crease and crevice of his mind for what was bothering him before. He doesn’t usually struggle to remember what he was thinking about, but this particular thing just seems to evade him, like a child playing hide and seek. He knows it was important, really important, but he just… can’t remember. He looks down at Mal in hopes of jogging his memory, but seeing her sit there, all sad and wet and swallowed up by his jacket, all he feels is a pang of sympathy.

He feels himself relaxing, his reflexes softening from a state of panic to their usual level of low, constant background anxiety. Look at her, he thinks, does she really look like she wants to overthrow an entire country? The question is rhetorical, and the answer clear. No. She just wants a home, somewhere to fit in. She looks so small, so vulnerable and powerless like this. He chastises himself for letting himself lose sight of why he brought her and her friends to Auradon in the first place.

She’s here to grow, to heal - they all are. Of course she’s going to make some silly mistakes like spray painting her locker, or cutting class, or using magic to get Ben to go out with her. Besides, with coronation coming up so fast, it makes sense that she would feel like she couldn’t find an opportunity to ask Ben out without a little extra help. That’s all this is, a silly mistake. It’s nothing to be blown out of proportion, really. He sighs, sitting across from her, feeling a dull nudge of something that could grow into fondness with time.

He reaches over to fix her hair, and she looks up at him. She searches his eyes, desperately looking for any signs of hate or change in how he views her. That’s what this is, he confirms to himself. She just has a crush on him is all. He would never say that to anyone, he wouldn’t run the risk of embarrassing someone dealing with such delicate feelings, but it does make sense. She said herself just a while ago, dating on the Isle is more like gang activity than picnics and drive in movies. Of course she wouldn’t know how to talk to someone she likes, how to find ways to spend more time with them.

Ben almost chuckles at the thought, the idea of her trying to figure out how to enchant her crush into liking her back. It’s sweet, really. Nothing malicious at all. Besides, everybody knows that love magic doesn’t exist, there is no such thing as a love spell. So if she still doesn’t know that yet, could her knowledge of magic really be that dangerous? It can’t possibly be. She just used a harmless little spell to speed things up a little. No one would ever act out like that if it wasn’t for some matter of the heart or other. It’s almost flattering in a strange way.

He decides to test his theory, letting his fingertips linger in her damp, sugar plum hair, twirling it lightly.

“Mal?” He starts, getting her attention.

“I, uh… I told you that I loved you. At the tourney game.” He says, jogging her memory. He looks at her, studying her face. “What about you?”

This is perfect, he thinks, this is the most opportune way to offer her a way to tell him how she feels, get it all off her chest.

“Do you love me?” He prompts.

Normally, he would never be this direct with someone. But he feels it’s warranted, given the circumstances. It’s taken many years for him to learn to trust his gut with things like this, and he’s not going to doubt himself now. Yes, what she did was bad - unforgivable, even - but at the end of the day, she’s just a hormonal teenage girl with a crush. She can’t possibly be faulted for that, for having feelings.

“I…” Mal starts, swallowing thickly and looking away from him again. She clutches the sides of his jacket, pulling it tighter around her. It smells soapy, like it’s too clean. She knows she should probably be feeling something, but she has no goddamn clue what it is - much less how to recognize and articulate it. She feels… queasy. Kind of shaky and sweaty. Are you supposed to feel like that when a boy says I love you? That has to be the feeling that people are always talking about, getting butterflies in your stomach. Mal supposes butterflies just don’t agree with her.

“I don’t think I know what love feels like.” She replies simply, in a rare and impulsive moment of vulnerability. If she’s ever going to be vulnerable, it will be when she can control how the other person reacts to it. She looks down. Instead of looking at Ben, she traces her eyes over the skirt of the dress Evie put her in. It’s calming, relaxing. There’s the faintest trace of Evie’s perfume, and it makes Mal feel a sense of warmth and longing that she desperately needs right now.

Ben’s heart squeezes sympathetically. He feels so bad for her. That tragic compassion reassures him that bringing her to Auradon was the right decision, and this whole thing was just a silly miscommunication. A mistake.

“Maybe I could teach you.” He says softly. He puts his hand on her arm, helping her stand up.

“Come on. Let’s get you home.”

When you show up to the Wonderland Embassy, the home away from home you share with your mother, you look positively and uncharacteristically ragged. It’s merely a pebble’s throw from campus, so it couldn’t have been a particularly tiring walk - unless you walked your way from Camelot, which is highly improbable. Your blackberry bow is loose and slipping off towards your ear, your skirt is all rumpled, and you haven’t even noticed the run in your favorite pair of knee socks.

Worst of all, worse than your slouching or lethargy or the tear tracks down your cheeks, are your eyes. The vibrancy, the hope and curiosity is all but gone. Your dear mother, Alice - better known as Alice Liddel, Ambassador of Wonderland - notices all of this right away. You answer her usual question, are you ready to embark on your weekly mother daughter dinner, before she can even ask it.

“I’m afraid I can’t make dinner, mother,” you say, babbling around the tea biscuit you grab from the counter and hold in your mouth, keeping your hands free to drop off the useless information you’ve gathered throughout the day and search for a few books in your mother’s collection.

“But I promise I’ll get something more than tea and cakes from the school kitchens tonight.” You assure her half heartedly, more worried about her peace of mind than your dietary habits. The moment the words leave your lips, she knows that something is wrong. Not wrong in the sort of way that a leaf floats down a brook, but deeply wrong, like a subaquatic shrub.

Shrubs are not subaquatic by nature, and if one is found it’s recommended to bring it to the nearest tree surgeon as quickly as possible. She looks at you, her darling daughter, her wonderful little dear, and sees a subaquatic rose garden. You never skip dinners with your mother, not for the tiffletoo flu, or final exams, or anything else regardless of urgency or importance. The only time you’ve skipped dinner in the past was one time, one terrible night where Ben was rushed off the tourney field with a broken wrist and a nasty concussion.

The standard for skipping dinner and tea with your mother is one that’s very rare and quite extreme, so you’re not too terribly surprised when she stops you from leaving the Wonderland Embassy with a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Nunz yet, my love,” She says softly, soothingly. She fixes your hair in that comforting motherly way of hers, then moves on to fix your bow how you like it.

“I can’t watch you gyre like an overwrought sulphide marble for a moment longer.” She looks at you softly. “What’s got your mind so snaggled, sweets?”

Your mother, your dear dear mother is your most favorite person in both worlds, right alongside Ben. You’ve always found your inability to lie to her or hide your feelings as a relief, a blessing. Now, however, you find yourself wishing for the first time that you were able to lie to her as easily as Audrey and Lonnie lie to their mothers. Your stomach twists uncomfortably. You don’t like this feeling. You wish it would just go away, but you know you can’t tell your mother everything that’s going on. Not yet, at least.

She’s so close with Ben’s parents - in both business and personal regards - that if you were to make the wrong move, it could mean a world of nasty repercussions and consequences for Ben. The exact ones you’ve been maddening yourself trying to shield him from. You trust your mother implicitly, but you also know she has a duty - not just as a politician, but as a parent - to inform Ben’s parents imminently of any perils regarding Ben that she is made aware of.

You sit down, fussing with the pleats of your dress, tugging at your stockings to buy yourself some time, give yourself a moment to carefully choose the most right, non incriminating words you can muster up.

“Ben has been behaving strangely.” You state. Your voice is soft, but not fragile. This worries your mother. If your voice were fragile, you see, it would mean this was all very new and fresh. But the reluctant acceptance in your tone of voice tells her the severity of the situation in which you’ve found both yourself and Ben. Your voice is quiet, your words simple, and a soft hum of understanding leaves your mother’s lips. She nods empathically, silent in the moment that follows so you can continue.

“And, I… can’t quite seem to figure out the reason why.” You continue, even more quietly - almost shamefully so.

Your mother hums again, this time with a deeper, more resolute understanding of how you’re feeling and why exactly you must be feeling the way that you are. You and Ben have been so terribly close for so awfully long, that if either of you had felt at any point during your numerous years of friendship that you were mildly confused by the behavior or the other - much less left clueless and in the dark, as you currently are - that that in and of itself would be nothing short of anomalous.

So naturally, when something this catastrophically unusual occurs, it should come as no shock at all how deeply distressing it would be to you. The very worst part, you realize, is that your mother has already come to this conclusion with barely a fraction of the information you have. You shudder to think about how distraught she’d be on your behalf if she knew everything you do about your trouble with Ben’s unusualness as of late.

“Lovey…” Your mother says warmly. She reaches over to you, handing you a warm porcelain teacup and saucer of her ever perfect chamomile tea. It’s sweetened with just the right amount of honey, but not so much as to overpower it - a mistake that you’ve seen many people make quite often - and topped off with just a little bit of shaken cream and rose pollen.

You’re never sure how she manages to make it so perfectly with so little effort every single time, but it must be a mother’s touch, you suppose. A gentle hug and a warm cup of her specialty tea always gets you to open right up to your mother, no matter how mimsy and gallymoggers you may be feeling.

Your expression drops, and your mother recognizes it instantly as the look of finally allowing yourself to let in the very best of ideas. Your posture straightens imperceptibly, and your mother disguises her proud smile with a sip from her own teacup. She loves seeing you like this, lighting up as your mind is flooded in a flash brainstorm.

“That’s it…” you mutter again, aloud this time. You stand up, careful not to spill your beverage, and you take a great big sip before setting it down hastily.

“Thank you,” you sigh gratefully to your mother, giving her a squeeze around the middle, and a honey chamomile kiss to the cheek before you depart.

“I really must go now,” you say regrettably, but she’s already waving you off with affection.

“Be safe, dear.” She smiles, then gives you a subtle and humorous look. “And don’t lose your head.”

You let out a laugh from your nose.

“I think you’ve come close enough for the both of us.”

You exit the Embassy in a rush, determination and your mother’s laughter following in your footsteps. For the first time in days, you know what to do next.

#curiosity is a wonderful thing #curiosity #descendants #descendants x reader #ben florian #ben florian x reader #daughter of alice #daughter of alice!reader #alice liddell #liddell!reader #I finally got my adhd meds upped so I'm having a productivity focus let's be normal party #also I bit the bullet and read this chapter to my mom and sister to make sure it hit right because WOW it's a lot. subtext by calvin klien.#anyway yeah they loved it???????? so fucking sweet

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wileys-russo · 11 months ago

Note

Ella toone / Mary Earps one for your writing challenge with the reader scrolling through edits of her and Ella / Mary noticing reader doing it, just kinda teasing fluff lol

ella toone

you chuckled to yourself laid down on your bed, watching an edit of ella and alessia's latest adventures together on the lionesses version of gogglebox, rolling your eyes at your girlfriends recount of a very minor finger injury she braved through during the world cup.

still relatively new to using tiktok as you'd first vowed against its use seeing just how addicted ella and mary became, but unable to put it off any longer and with a lot of free time in malta during prep camp you caved.

out a mild curiosity you clicked on the tag of your girlfriends name. her videos came up at first and those you'd seen, her phone forever thrust into your face as she begged for feedback on her content. but scrolling a little further your eyebrows furrowed at the immense amount of edits of the mancunian which were not made by your girlfriend.

so engrossed in your scrolling you failed to hear mary return to the room after her shower, wringing out her hair with a towel as she noticed your obvious interest in whatever you were watching.

"oh you are not watching fan edits of your own girlfriend?" you jumped and locked your phone as marys obnoxiously loud laugh echoed around the room. "piss off nosy!" you threw your pillow at her head as she settled into bed.

"god you're so lovesick its disgusting." mary gagged dramatically as you threw your other pillow, this time successfully hitting her in the face. "your loss! these are mine now." the older girl smirked tucking them both under her as you sent her a glare.

"just you wait till i tell tooney she's gonna love this."

and despite your begging, and you did mean begging on your knees with hands clasped together and puppy dog eyes, the keeper did in fact keep her word and rush over to tell your girlfriend the very next morning at breakfast.

you sighed from a distance as you grabbed food for the two of you, rachel patting your back in sympathy at the wild eyed grin ella sent your way. "i don't know what thats about but...good luck." the older girl chuckled as you groaned and picked up your tray.

"oh my biggest fans brought me breakfast aren't i lucky!" ella smirked as you placed her plate down and rolled your eyes.

"don't make me spit in it ella." you mumbled, tired and hardly in the mood for this today, kept up half the night by marys snoring having drawn the short straw and being forced to room with her this time.

"oh my grumpy baby whats wrong?" ella cooed knowing exactly why you were so annoyed as you shot a smug looking mary a filthy look across the table. "here babe maybe this will cheer ya up." she slid her phone in front of you where an edit of her from last years euros played.

"you're insufferable." you sighed knocking her phone away as she sloppily kissed your cheek mumbling that she loved you very much, your mood remaining low all throughout breakfast.

"nope! you sit love, i'll do it, and i'll make ya a juice for trainin." ella beamed pushing you back into your seat and grabbing your plate for you, stealing a kiss as she did and ignoring the teasing jabs from mary across the table, millie going with her.

"i hate you earps." you crossed your arms and scowled at the keeper who blew you a kiss and wiggled your eyebrows. "you love me." mary waved off the claim and returned to her conversation with keets beside her.

a juice was placed down in front of you as you craned your neck back and smiled appreciatively up at your girlfriend, kissing her cheek in thanks as she sat back down. "oh! i know how to cheer ya up." ella suddenly perked up, scrambling back to her feet.

"el baby i'm fine i'm just-" you started but her finger smushed against your lips silencing you as she bent down and whispered something to millie whose grin slightly terrified you as ella stood out of her seat, counting in.

on three millie clicked play on something on her phone, breaking dishes by rihanna started to play and ella began to sensually dance. "who needs tiktok edits when you can have one live baby?" ella grinned as she rolled her body and pulled faces.

"oh jesus help me." you buried your face in your hands as ella continued and mary started to film, both her and keets dying of laughter on the other side of the table.

"okay ella enough!" you groaned though unable to stop a smile growing on your face as millie cut the music and your girlfriend dropped back into her seat.

"enjoy that love?" "no i think i like the edits more, they don't speak back."

#woso #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso blurbs #ella toone x reader #ella toone #woso community #engwnt

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edelfie · 3 months ago

Text

#𝓣𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘! wannabe chart topper.

there is a certain sense of degradation and shame that comes with being a well-known industry figure not for what you create, but for how terrible you seem to be at it. no matter what genre or style it seems you just haven’t got the midas touch. your friends aren’t gonna let that stop you from doing the thing you love—no, not creating music, silly! publicly shaming your exes through song!

or, there is no better cure for heartache than money, revenge, and clout (in that order).

POST CREDITS! —

There's a heavy sigh that escapes Asahi's lips as he closes out from the group chat. Normally the mood isn't so...dour, and the seldom times it is it appears to be a product of his own doing. Yet to see you, especially, so downtrodden upset him. Asahi knows that everyone becomes sad for one reason or another, naturally, but the ever-confident Y/N L/N being insecure? Unfathomable, he declares.

From the day he met you, you have been a rock. Not just in his life, but also in his idealized version of you. Of everyone in the group, you had one of the bigger personalities—it was hard to know for sure if yours was the biggest when Tendou is being...Tendou. Regardless, you always carried yourself like you knew you could buy the entirety of Japan with your pocket change.

You couldn’t, of course—you didn’t even come close. But the unwavering confidence you held in that you could was admirable, if not slightly arrogant. In Asahi’s mind though, it took a certain type of person to be selfish, headstrong, self-centered. And to pull it off so well that he didn’t even hate them? He had to give flowers where they’re due.

And if you're none of those things, you're a damn good actor—and maybe that's part of your "star power" too. You had him fooled, and he's sure you'll fool the entire world too. So, with a bit of selfishness, he'll continue to remain by your side and push you into the limelight so he can bask in that aura once more. Even when he knows it isn't real.

You are a rock, the one which holds their entire rag-tag group together. You are the post in which the ship hauls their anchor upon. You are the jagged edges which cut through those who earn your ire, drawing blood. You are softened by the crashing tides which erode at your exterior. You really are special, and he can't imagine you being anyone else.

"Oi, are you still listening?"

Asahi snaps to attention. He had completely forgot he was on the phone with Yuu, so absorbed with his thoughts. The lack of sleep was also likely to blame as he teetered from left to right, eyes hovering open just a crack. Still, he makes a great effort to not look like he was totally spacing out.

"Ah, yeah I am! Sorry..."

"Right," Yuu drags the word on for a few seconds "Anyways, like I was saying..."

NOTES! —

Rise and shine (ursine)! Today is a new day, and I'm aiming to double post today, so be on the lookout for that! Ah, but don't hold me accountable if I don't either—I get out from my classes late today and commute in peak traffic, so the second chapter may be released wayyyy later today or not at all (until tomorrow that is wkwk). Anyways, today's fundraiser goes towards supporting Rachel Pikrel-Hawkins and her children in Colorado.

Rachel's ex husband, Michael Hawkins, is a retired police sergeant and convicted felon and sex offender for the continuous rape and sexual assault of his daughter and two adopted daughters. However, he is free from custody while Rachel is in jail for objecting to court-ordered reunification therapy between Michael and two of their sons. The case is beyond horrifying and revolting, and I recommend reading into it further in the description of the GoFundMe page. If you are able to assist Rachel in paying for attorneys to defend her and her children in court, please consider donating here and sharing their story with others.

If you’ve noticed, the “blind items” section looks different today! That’s because it’s supposed to be an in-universe bonus section for gossip and rumors, usually about what happened in the screenshots. However for this conversation, obviously nobody is telling any gossip pages about this, so I replaced it with “Post Credits”! Now whenever there are no blind items, this section will appear instead and will detail the inner thoughts, feelings, and opinions of the characters—or, just anything that didn't make the cut. These are all still canonical, but weren't included in the chapter for a platitude of reasons (conflicting pov, limited time, etc.) Please take these crumbs of writing as a sign of my gratitude for all you readers!

PREV + MASTERLIST + NEXT

#༄ — taste #?! — edelfie #//#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu smau #smau #hq #hq smau #hq x reader #haikyuu reader insert #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader

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silantryoo · 2 years ago

Text

midnight rain — huh yunjin x non-idol!reader

yunjin can't help but reminisce about what she left to achieve her dreams.

WARNINGS ; self-depreciation, cyber-bullying

TAGS ; the huh sisters are the best, y/n is the most supportive gf ever, yunjin sacrificed sm, someone check on y/n, idek if this is a happy ending or not, yunjin using y/n as a coping mechanism tbh

GENRE ; fluff, angst (4.2k)

huh yunjin had the whole world in the palm of her hands.

there were thousands of people out there, longing for the idol's attention. she could win anyone's heart over, just with a couple words and her goofy smile, but none of them could ever compare to you.

huh yunjin might rule the world, but you still and will always rule hers.

yunjin met you right after she had finished produce 48.

she had left korea feeling like a shell of her former self. yunjin had gotten the taste of a dream that she so badly longed for, and one she most likely would never be able to achieve again. she had missed her only chance, and there was no getting it back.

it didn't help that mainland korea had turned its back on the then-aspiring idol.

she had read through the produce forums almost daily since then. yunjin spent hours scrolling, letting every horrible thing said build inside her like a sickly virus.

glad huh yunjin didn't make it. she's a backstabbing bitch. (+193, -21)

did huh yunjin die? i hope so (+86, -7)

i hope huh yunjin never debuts!!!!!!!!! (+273, -11)

huh yunjin knew she was done for.

she went back to new york mid-september a year later, back to the high school that she dreaded going to, another reminder that she will never, ever be who she wanted.

"um," yunjin felt a tap on her shoulder. "you know the school library isn't open twenty-four hours, right?"

"huh?" yunjin wiped her eyes. she glanced at the clock behind the strange girl. 7:12. "shit, sorry. i didn't realize."

"it's fine. i'm closing this place up soon." yunjin watched as the girl's eyes locked onto hers. she could feel her heart in her throat. "you can stay, if you want."

"i want to, uh..." yunjin cleared her throat. "i'll stay."

"okay."

yunjin forgot about everything for a moment.

"okay."

yunjin was never a studious person.

the girl had decent grades, but she never actually put effort into studying, not like her sister or her friends around her. it came to her naturally, and yunjin had other priorities such as working on her musical skills (something that she had abandoned as soon as she stepped foot on american soil once more).

but a week later, yunjin found herself sitting in front of her younger sister, watching as she did her homework.

"unnie?" her sister, rachel, eyed the brunette weirdly. "why are you here?"

"why?" yunjin stared at the empty desk in front of her, looking around the library to find the others full of papers. "can't i study?"

"no. you can't." rachel tapped her pencil. "you're literally incapable of studying."

"wow, okay." the former trainee scoffed. "i've had a change of heart."

rachel shook her head.

"i get losing in produce sucks, but i don't think you could do a 180 that fast." yunjin winced, rachel opening up fresh wounds. the older huh knew that the girl was just trying to make light of the situation, but it still hurt like hell. "it's been like... three weeks."

yunjin knew it had been three weeks. three weeks, two days, and five hours since she landed back in america. she didn't need rachel to remind her, not when the entire world already had.

"can you shut up?" yunjin snapped, gripping the backpack she was holding on her lap.

the younger huh flinched, the silence of the library amplifying yunjin's aggression.

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes shut tight as she tried to calm herself down. the young girl had never been good with emotions, but she wanted nothing more than to tell her sister that it was okay to feel upset.

(even if rachel knew yunjin wouldn't listen.)

"oh hey, rach." yunjin's eyes opened, her head turning to the sound of a familiar voice, soothing the former trainee. "what are you doing?"

rachel hummed, setting her pencil down. "working on the assignment from our econ class."

you made your way between the huh sisters, looking at the diligent note-taking of the younger girl to your left.

"why?" you muttered. you were sure that the due date didn't change. "that's due next week."

"no?" you felt your heart drop. "it's due tomorrow."

"oh shit." your eyes widened, covering your mouth. you were screwed. "i need to find nadine."

rachel looked at you with a smile. it was hard to believe that you were only a month younger than yunjin. though yunjin never cared for schoolwork, she was always hardworking when necessary. you on the other hand...

"who was that?"

rachel looked at her sister, yunjin's eyes trained at your retreating figure. "y/n?"

yunjin couldn't help but smile. the name fit you perfectly. "yeah."

"she's my classmate from my AP econ class." rachel squinted. yunjin was a bit too interested in you for it to just be curious. "she's a junior this year... why?"

yunjin's eyes widened, the former trainee's face unable to hide her surprise.

"why are you taking AP?" she tried to change the subject. "aren't you 14?"

"i wanna get into NYU." rachel sighed, picking up the pencil as she bit back multiple remarks that would leave her sister cursing at her. "leave me alone."

yunjin felt a pang in her chest.

it had slipped her mind that she had to think about university now. where she was going to commit, scholarships and loans...

yunjin tried her best to not seem fazed. dreams were meant to be dreamt, not fufilled. the sooner she knew that, the better it was for her.

"you're such a nerd."

"you're literally a theater kid, unnie." rachel bit back, too immersed in her work to notice the mood drop. "you can't talk."

yunjin stared at her sister, hoping that she would never feel that way.

(but in the back of her mind, through all the guilt and anger, she couldn't help but linger at the thought of you).

yunjin was starting to like the library.

it was quiet, and peaceful (minus the many kids who were scrambling to study for a test in the corner of the library). it let her think about everything, letting her sit in her feelings. plus, the library had the ambiance of the produce practice rooms early in the morning, something that the former trainee greatly missed.

"are you here to read through your phone again?"

yunjin could feel the hairs on her neck stand up. "huh?"

yunjin, eyes trained on your figure, watched as you took a seat across from her.

"you and rach look a lot alike." you said, humming as you set your chin on your hand. "i should've known that you were her sister."

yunjin pushed back a smile.

(she'd never tell anyone, but part of her was worried that rachel no longer looked up to her.)

"she told you about me?"

"she brags about you all the time." you smiled at yunjin's grin. "something about being a kpop idol, i dunno. i'm not good with that stuff."

the former trainee pursed her lips.

"oh, well," yunjin chuckled awkwardly, the awkwardness in her chest starting to change into pain. "i don't think that's gonna happen."

you looked her up and down. "why not?"

yunjin could think of multiple reasons, ones that she had internalized so much that she had changed the way she carried herself, but she wasn't going to say that to a random stanger (much less a hot random stranger).

"it didn't work out." yunjin said.

"oh." you scratched your cheek, yunjin nodding shallowly. "well, it's too soon to tell, y'know? you could be like, the next bts or something."

"how can i be the next bts when i'm one person?" yunjin squinted. kpop was so much more than just bts. "plus, bts isn't the only kpop group out there."

"i know that." you scoffed, rolling your eyes at the girl. "you just seem like someone who likes bts."

yunjin could feel herself blushing.

"...yeah."

"see, i already know you." yunjin looked away, afraid that she'd implode if she looked at your smile. "i just need to know your name."

"my name?" yunjin's mind went blank, nearly spitting out a random name. "jennifer."

"jennifer." you smiled harder. "nice to meet you, jennifer. i'm y/n."

and for a moment, right when yunjin's name rolled off of your tongue, yunjin felt seen.

yunjin considered herself a lot of things. as of late, most of them had turned overwhelmingly negative, but regardless, she at least knew that she was in tune with her emotions. she, unlike her sister, was able to identify them, and 'fix' them to the best of her abilities.

however, being around you the past couple of weeks you have told her differently.

yunjin knew she liked you. she liked the way you smiled at her, your gums showing through your crooked smile. she liked the way your hands felt, the way your hand would accidentally bump into hers, making yunjin long for more.

you were everything yunjin had ever dreamt of in a person, but she was sure she was just going to mess it up again.

yunjin sighed, forcing herself to stop thinking about you, a common occurrence that had been recently happening lately.

"unnie." rachel tapped her should, causing the older girl to jump.

she turned to the younger girl and her friends, her locker mirror shaking as she slammed it closed. "what?"

rachel's friend, nadine (if yunjin remembered correctly), said, "you're close with y/n right?"

yunjin clenched her jaw, a burst of anxiety running up her spine. had you gotten hurt? was something wrong? yunjin couldn't help but overthink.

"why?" she hummed.

"you guys aren't dating?" rachel asked, yunjin's eyes widening as big as saucers.

"no," yunjin scoffed, a blush covering her face. if only she could. "what?"

rachel looked at the girl beside her as yunjin avoided the younger students' gazes. her older sister was anything but subtle.

"okay." rachel said slowly, watching as yunjin perked up, waiting to hear any information about you. "derek's planning to ask her out, so i just wanted to make sure you don't go all... you on him."

"okay, i don't go all 'me' on anyone." yunjin crossed her arms. perhaps there had been one incident a year ago that almost got her suspended, but that was only because someone had hit on rachel. yunjin took no fault. "wait... derek mcavoy?"

"yeah?"

yunjin felt her stomach sink.

she considered herself many things, passionate being one of them. sometimes, yunjin passion could get in the way of her rational thinking.

"hey, do you guys know who sent me these flowers?" yunjin could hear your voice behind her, getting closer to her. "i think they're trying to kill me."

yunjin clenched her fist.

"aren't you allergic to those?" rachel blinked at you, staring at daisies that were in your hand.

how you weren't dead? she had no clue.

"severely." you sighed, looking at the bouquet in front of you. "i had to take my inhaler."

rachel shook her head, looking at her sister who was staring into the distance, face stoic and eyes glazed over. the younger girl sighed. it was happening.

"jen," you called out to her, bringing her out of her head. yunjin turned to you. "do you think one of your fans reached me?"

yunjin's eyes met yours, hardened and swirling with an emotion that you could only identify as anger and regret. looking over to rachel, she shrugged as yunjin continued to stare into your soul.

yunjin didn't want to live in regret anymore, not when her daily life was already filled with it.

"go out with me."

yunjin had never heard silence in a crowded hallway until that very moment.

"what?"

("unnie?")

"go out with me, y/n." yunjin stated, pushing down the embarrassment threatening to take over her entire body.

("should we be here?")

"uh..." you took a breath, your gummy smile making yunjin overflow with happiness. "okay."

yunjin had never felt happiness like that in her life.

"okay."

yunjin would be lying if she said she was satisfied with how her life was right now.

she had everything that anyone could want at her age. her grades, although not to ivy league standard, could get her in a good college if she kept her current pace. she had no family problems, and yunjin had always gotten along with rachel.

most of all, she was in a great relationship, celebrating her first valentine's with the girl she had slowly fallen in love with over the past four months.

but it wasn't enough, because this life will never be enough for yunjin.

"oh my god," yunjin smiled, turning her phone off as you entered her room. "is that huh yunjin from produce 48 where iz*one was created?"

although not as strong, yunjin felt a dull ache in her chest.

"you're so annoying." yunjin rolled her eyes, sitting up to greet you with a kiss.

"hey, i got into kpop for you so we could bond as a couple." you teased, humming against her lips. the taller girl smiled. "how am i annoying?"

"i didn't say i hated it." she whispered, moving over to give you a seat. "i missed you."

truthfully, yunjin did miss you, especially the way you made her forget her failures, even if it was just for a moment.

"i saw you yesterday." you teased. you grabbed her hand, smiling at her. "but i missed you too."

you leaned in once more, capturing the girl's mouth against yours. you always felt an overwhelming sense of love whenever you kissed the taller girl, but yunjin always felt a sense of fear. the fear of becoming content with a life like this, a life without doing what she loved.

you pulled away. "me or bts?"

yunjin groaned, guilt simmering in her stomach. "you're the worst."

"i know." you giggled, kissing her cheek.

yunjin sighed, leaning back as she slammed her back onto her bed.

you followed her suit, the short haired girl wrapping her arm around you as you snuggled close into her body.

"tired?" you asked, stroking her hair out of her face.

"this week has been kicking my ass." yunjin knew she had done it to herself, tuning into the japanese tabloids that week to keep tabs on iz*one's debut. "but it is our very first valentines together. plus, i think you're my gift from cupid."

you scoffed playfully, trying to pull away from the ex-trainee. "am i just an object to you, jennifer?"

"hey, no!" yunjin whined, shoving her face into your neck. you giggled, feeling the strands of her hair against your neck. "and don't use my full government name."

"sorry, sorry." you smiled, watching as her eyes looked into yours. "what do you want me to call you instead?"

yunjin thought for a moment, her eyes darting to your mouth. "mine."

your smile dropped, and you pulled away from her, the korean whining at the loss of contact.

"ugh." you sat up, shaking your head. "jesus, jen... that was disgusting."

she gasped, sitting up beside you. "you dated me knowing that i'm like this."

"no." yunjin frowned, and you couldn't help but smile at her adorable face. "i dated you because you're hot."

"wow." yunjin's mouth hung open, trying hard not to smile as you attacked her cheek with kisses as an apology. "so you only love me for my face."

you pulled back, raising your eyebrow. "who said i loved you?"

yunjin stared at you, hearing her heart break slowly.

she knew it wasn't your fault, but yunjin couldn't help but find herself feeling the same way she had at the beginning of the school year.

"i'm sorry, i--"

"i do, though. love you, i mean." you cleared your throat, awkwardly scratching your cheek as you looked at the ground. "i'm just trying to figure out how you know when i literally never told anyone until now."

yunjin smiled at you, taking your features in as if to memorize you.

"i love you too."

yunjin watched as your eyes swarmed with adoration, and nothing had ever scared her so much than the feeling of fulfillment that spread through her chest.

"you do?" you whispered, looking into her eyes, finding nothing but sincerity in them.

but something was off, you could feel it in the air. the way the weight of the room had gotten heavier, almost as if the burden of your girlfriend filled the entire thing.

yunjin looked away, and that was enough to know that deep down, she never wanted to fall in love with you, not like this.

"yeah." yunjin muttered, smiling through her smile. "i do."

you smiled through your pain, wanting nothing more than to feel love instead of regret.

"the famous huh yunjin is in love with me?" you joked, watching as her face morphed into a more playful tone.

"shut up."

"okay." you nodded, wondering how long you had left with her. "only because i love you."

"i love you too."

yunjin had meant every word she said, even if it came with layers of regret.

yunjin had heard from koeun a month ago that source music had opened back up, this time under new management, a much more competent one.

when the former trainee heard the news, she refused to get her hopes up. she had come to terms with how her life was now. yunjin still felt the what-ifs from time to time, but she couldn't do anything about it, even if she so badly wanted to.

she hid it well from her family, the longing for the spotlight, to perform. they didn't ask her questions about why she would skip dinner, sitting in front of her computer as she waited for a stupid email to pop up.

(you knew, however. and it pained you to know that your girlfriend would never truly be happy with you.)

you pushed it down, waiting for the right time to bring it up to her. you just wished it didn't have to happen today.

"hey, jen. sorry i kept you waiting. your mom tried to force-feed me once i stepped through the door. she thinks you aren't feeding me enough." you laughed as you set your sweater to the side of her room, making your way over to kiss her forehead. "happy six months, baby."

yunjin wiped her face, looking at the monitor of her laptop. "happy six months."

yunjin didn't look at you, afraid that she'd lose everything as soon as her eyes locked onto your eyes.

"what's up?" you wiped her tears. she hung her head low, the light of the monitor illuminating her tear streaks. "you don't look as happy as i do."

yunjin was silent, waiting for you to look at the screen in front of her.

you turned your head, skimming over the english text found in the email. it was bound to happen, and you had tried your hardest to prepare yourself for it. you hoped it was enough to keep the facade up long enough.

"oh, jen." you rubbed yunjin's back, watching as her tears fell harder. "are you going back?"

yunjin shook her head, not wanting to think about it. "i don't know."

"do you want to?"

you already knew your answer a long time ago.

"i don't know." yunjin didn't mean to lie, but she loved you. "i don't want to leave you."

"it's fine." you whispered in her ear, swallowing your tears back. "i'll be fine."

yunjin wrapped her arms around you, her head buried in your neck as sobs wracked her body. she couldn't do it again. she couldn't lose everything she's worked for again.

yunjin couldn't lose you for nothing.

"what if it doesn't go well, and i just ended us for nothing?" yunjin asked in between sobs, gripping the back of your shirt.

"so you want to go?"

yunjin's face fell, pulling back from you as you smiled at her with teary eyes.

yunjin loved your smile.

"baby..."

"it's okay, i promise." you nodded, trying to push through the pain. "you'll be fine. i believe in you."

yunjin shook her head. she didn't deserve it. she didn't deserve your support, not if she's leaving you like this.

"i finally accepted it." yunjin blubbered, too emotional to realize what she said. "i can't go through this again."

you bit your upper lip, looking away briefly. hearing yunjin say it was different from knowing that you were just the second choice.

"i know." yunjin's face was wet with tears, a never-ending flow of remorse. "but you won't, because you'll debut this time."

yunjin shook her head. "how do you know that?"

"because you're jennifer huh. you're the girl who came back here, fighting to be okay again even though deep down you knew that it wasn't what you wanted." you kissed her nose, watching as her nose crinkled at the contact. you smiled. "you're the girl i'm in love with."

yunjin felt a weight lift off of her shoulders.

"i'm in love with you too." yunjin sniffed. "i don't want to leave you."

you looked into yunjin's eyes, and you saw nothing but passion, passion for you.

if there was one thing that you loved yunjin, it was her overwhelming sense of passion. but at times like these, you hated it.

you watched her for a moment.

"then i'll leave you."

"what?" yunjin's eyes widened, moving her hands onto your arm. "no."

"you want us to make it work?" you asked her, almost challenging her at the ridiculous thought.

you two were high school kids, two girls who fell in love because of a missed opportunity, an opportunity that yunjin was willing to jeopardize for you.

yunjin could feel her fears coming true.

"i..."

"baby, what are they gonna think once they find out about us if we even manage to make it through until your debut?" you told her, furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know."

yunjin looked at you through the thick silence, almost as if she was trying to memorize you one more time.

"it's a good thing we're both private people, huh?" you chuckled, the knot in your throat becoming bigger. "imagine all the people you'd have to pay off. i mean, you guys are rich but st--"

"can you not?" yunjin whispered. "please?"

"sorry." you cleared your throat, looking away as tears were starting to form in your eyes (not yet. please.). "do you want me to go?"

"no." yunjin said with sincerity. "i just want to spend one more day with you."

yunjin stared at you desperately pleading for you to agree. she just needed to hold you one more time, to listen to your voice. she just needed one more day to memorize you before she lost you.

"okay."

one day was enough for you, even if you'd love her for the rest of your life.

"okay."

you untangled yourself from her at three in the morning the next day, eyes bloodshot and arms tired from holding her as if she was going to disappear.

you wiped your eyes, and placed your forgotten sweater on her desk, tucking a piece of paper in the pocket.

you were going to break soon, and you didn't want yunjin to see the broken pieces she'd leave in new york.

looking at the girl once more, you gave her one more kiss on the forehead, hoping that she'd remember you with only happiness and love.

you left yunjin's room, clenching your mouth as you tried your best not to sob.

"y/n?"

"night, rach." you tried to walk away, the younger girl following you to the door.

rachel looked at you with a frown, watching as you struggled to put your shoes on. "are you okay?"

you looked up at her, your eyes red as you smiled. you haven't heard someone ask that in a while.

"no." you grinned, the tears streaming down your face betraying you.

"thank you for doing this for unnie." rachel said, watching as you stiffened up. she wished she could do something more, but this wasn't her expertise. "it's probably killing you."

"i'll be fine." you whispered, standing up to face the girl.

"come study with me later?" she asked, a small smile on her face.

you hated how much rachel looked like her sister.

"okay." you patted her shoulder, rachel opening the door as you fished for your keys. "thanks rachel. you would've made a good sister-in-law."

rachel winced. not at the comment, but at the way your face morphed into an emotion she had yet to feel.

"you too."

"yunjin-ah!"

yunjin groaned as chaewon yelled at her from across the dorm. no matter how hard she tried to rest, there was someone who always needed something from her.

"you know that hoodie i was gonna borrow?" yunjin grunted, earning a smack on the head from chaewon. the taller girl looked up, staring face to face with an old piece of paper. "this fell out of it."

"huh?" yunjin didn't remember leaving anything in her pockets.

chaewon hopped on the couch, sitting beside her roommate.

"it's a letter." yunjin knew your writing anywhere.

"oh?"

dear jen,

i'm rooting for you, jen. just like i always have and just like i always will be.

i love you, jen l/n y/n.

"who's y/n?"

"someone." yunjin whispered, memories suddenly flooding her brain. "you can't wear that hoodie though, that one's special."

chaewon whined. "why?"

"you can't." yunjin stated, chaewon watching closely as she hummed, the taller girl having a small smile on her face. "now, let's go get food."

"you're so weird."

i love you too, y/n.

silan says " pls pray for me... i cannot fail my final ;-; "

#huh yunjin x reader #le sserafim x reader #lesserafim x reader #kpop x reader #idol x reader #wlw #silantryo

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never-enough-novels · 5 months ago

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Introduction

Hieoo welcome to my blog<33 my name is Avi but you can call me whatever you are comfortable with except any slurs or anything offensive otherwise

Age:18

Writing acc: @never-enough-books-ever

♧My books (which I can remember anyway):

the inheritance games trilogy, the brothers hawthorne, shatter me series,good girls guide to murder trilogy,5 survivors, A million kisses in your lifetime,king of sins series, twisted series,dreamland billionaire series,the cheat sheet

♧Anime watched (which i can remember):

Jujutsu kaisen,bungou stray dogs, demon slayer, attack on titan, monster, cowboy bebop,blue lock, oshi no ko, death note,suzume, howls moving castle, kakegurui, the future diary, high rise invasion, parasyte

♧Current read: The reappearance of rachel price

♧Something about me

:Just finished school, indian, been a reader since childhood, INFJ-T, introvert, Grayson's wife and rohan is my side chick, absolutely obsessed with tig, my music tastes depends on my mood and so does my favorite song at any moment, born to be a reader but forced to study, would buy all the books of ot was possible, recently started getting into f1 courtesy of @darlingnemesis, I'm a hugeee procrastinator so i apologise beforehand if i don't answer asks or tags pls dont think I'm ignoring you

♧Pls for the love of God don't send any hate asks or messages

♧My dms are always open to talk to everyone!! even if it’s a random or a silly thing or because you wanna talk about a book pls fo ahead and don't care about how you start the conversation because I don't know how to either lol

Masterlist

My pookies<33

@mqstermindswift @shuhuaspookie @lanterns-and-daydreams @myster3y @f4iry-bell @hearthown @darlingnemesis @bookish-phile @pixiedust347 @xo-zozo @reminiscentreader @reyreadersblog @banilikesfictionalpeople @x-liv25-jamieswife @berryzxx

Moots I would like to get to know more:3

@nqds @lyrakanefanatic @ellaisbackbitches @soulaires @mariamluv @lxvebelle @libby-grambs-1996 @flowers-for-em @sophiesonlinediary @mafiasliege

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marisol-000 · 23 days ago

Text

The Sandbox Scientists ch.2

Chapter 2! I can't believe how long this got, I had to push some stuff to the next chapter sooooo look out for that one!

(a03)

The boys didn't take the news that they weren't going home well.

There were lots of tears and crying and yelling until eventually weak promises and the offer of cookies calmed them down.

She couldn't blame them of course, the poor things suddenly waking up in a place they don't recognize with people they don't remember.

But what could they do? Neither she nor Robert knew where Jekyll had lived, just “somewhere” in Glasgow; and forget Edward 'street urchin’ Hyde!

Even if they could send them home it probably wouldn't be a good idea. Whatever had happened to her friends was likely temporary, or at least more likely to be solved by one of the scientists here than any townie in scotland.

All they could do now was try to keep the two comfortable while they looked for a solution.

And the first step to that was to get the boys in some fitting clothes!

“Right, but we don't have any. This isn't exactly a daycare.” Robert mused.

“Well you seem to forget! I'm quite the gifted seamstress!” Rachel bragged, wiping some cookie dough off her hands.

She flipped the patterned rag over her shoulder. “I can have some outfits going for these two in no time.”

Robert leaned around her, peeking into the kitchens where the two were playing tag. Henry kept tripping over his pants which slowed him down, but Edward couldn't seem to catch him anyways; not stepping wide enough and his arms not quite reaching, so there seemed to be no clear winner.

He let the door swing shut.

“Hmm, A whole wardrobe? For two boys? There's no telling how long they'll be this way. We'll need shirts, slacks, vests, coats, shoes and who knows what else. I'd much prefer taking him to a tailor.”

“Him?” Rachel raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, “I suppose you mean Henry.”

“Yes Henry.” he said unflinchingly, “You can't expect me to take Edward Hyde to the bloody tailor, he's still a wanted criminal you know.”

“He's a child!”

“He's a nuisance! He'll probably knock a candle over and set the shop on fire, it's in his nature.” he huffed.

Rachel paused and clenched her hands. She fixed him with a nasty glare.

“Don’t talk like you know him! That fire was *not* his fault! Master Hyde is a sweet boy who’s not done *anything* wrong.”

Lanyon hesitated, surprised by her sudden attitude change. Regardless he cleared his throat.

“Well, you seem to have forgotten about all the drinking and bar fights he’s known for. He's a bad influence. I don’t want him anywhere near Henry.”

Rachel rolled her eyes, “He is *not* a bad influence.”

She walked into the kitchen, swinging the door open and holding her arm out to gesture. “Edward Hyde is a charming young man who would never do anything wrong, much less convince Henry of all people to do so too!”

Both boys were on a chair, eating raw cookie dough directly from the bowl.

They blinked at the adults with their big round eyes.

Robert crossed his arms over his puffed chest, turning to her with an infuriating smirk.

Rachel sighed and got them cleaned up.

First Edward, then she balanced Henry on her hip while leaning over the sink. He was old enough to use the bar of soap by himself but she couldn’t resist wiping his rosy cheeks, humming while she dried his hands with her apron.

His feet barely touched the floor before Robert grabbed his arm and whisked him towards the door.

“Oi! And where do you think you’re going?” Rachel yelped.

“To the tailor, as I said.” Clearly believing he won that argument. Which he hadn't! She just… hadn't had the best timing.

“While he looks like that?” she gestured to Henry’s oversized and by now wrinkled clothes. “Robert, people are gonna think you kidnapped him.”

“Well how do you-” Lanyon made a shooing motion towards Edward, who was trying to follow them, “How do you expect the tailor to make him clothes without measuring him?”

Rachel rolled her eyes, sometimes she couldn't tell when he was being a helpless rich boy who couldn’t do anything himself or just plain stubborn.

“I’ll take the measurements, they don’t need him there in person. I’ll measure both boys and you can take that to them.

And say it’s for nephews come to town! No one’s gonna believe Robert Bleeding Lanyon of all people is taking in poor orphans.” That got a snort out of him.

Privately she didn't think it was a good idea to separate the two so soon, they only just stopped crying. And they'd been sticking close together since she and Robert found them. Seemingly feeling safe and comfortable with each other.

She snickered to herself. She couldn’t wait to tell Dr. Jekyll and Hyde how cute they were together.

Once they warmed up to the place the kids will be back at each other's throats in no time!

“Besides, you probably couldn't handle one child much less two.” she smirked.

Robert huffed, Take that! Who's winning now Robert?, and crossed his arms while sitting back down at the table.

“Fine, whatever, just measure them already.”

Rachel ushered the boys to her room, wrapped a measuring tape around the wiggly worms, and wrote a list of things for Lanyon to buy. With notes on fabric types and colors. Lots of Red and Green of course!

As much as she would have loved to see Edward in Eli's old clothes, they hadn't kept any from that age.

The neighborhood they had lived in was in constant need of hand-me-downs, and they hadn't been expecting to need things to remember him by…

Anyway!!!!! That just meant that it was time for her favorite activity:

Dress up time!

‘Edward Hyde’ was not enjoying dress up time.

They liked Rachel, the woman who found them, well enough. She was making them cookies after all, but she's so grabby!

Especially with him, he couldn’t go longer than a minute without being practically picked up in hugs or stuffed with various snacks.

Not that he didn’t want them, he was SUPER hungry after waking up, but the way she squealed when he said ‘Thank you’ hurt his ears.

Henry…it felt weird to call someone else his name. He tried to think of it like the two Jeffery’s in his class, who both had the same name. Instead of someone else who was him.

Henry didn’t like being prodded either. Whispering as much to him when she left the room with her note.

He agreed, and hoped whatever “Situation” the adults said they had to be here for would be over soon.

“Alright! Here are those cookies I promised you, *cooked* this time.” Rachel pouted, entering the room with a silver tray.

“You two are welcome to any books I have when you're done, I'm gonna be busy for a while.” With that she sat at some sort of machine. And started using it to stitch some fabric together.

He knew how to stitch! Well, kinda, Momma had shown him a few times, but putting dead animals back together was different than clothes.

He snuck glances at the boy who was also Henry, who occasionally glanced back.

He wanted to talk to him so bad, surely if they were the same person then he had done that too?

He wanted to ask so many questions, and try things he couldn’t do alone. It was thrilling to potentially have a friend that was willing to do weird stuff with him.

But for now Rachel was in the room, and adults never liked his ‘science’ much.

The two of them sat in silence and ate their cookies.

After what felt like hours the woman straightened up with a pop in her back.

“Whew! Two pairs of shirts and pants in record time! Ready to try them on?”

He looked up and nodded eagerly, dropping the dreadfully boring romance novel, “Yeah! It’s so cold in here.”

She whipped her head to look at him, pigtails flying.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Edward, I should have noticed! I’ll get you some blankets and more of Jekyll's socks, I’m sure we can layer them til you're warm again!”

He was sure she could layer them to the point that he would never walk again.

“Er, no thanks! The clothes will be fine.” he said, dodging another hug.

Henry snickered softly, out of Rachel's hearing. He snuck around and inspected the clothes she put together for them.

They were nothing fancy, buttonless white shirts and coal black pants. The stitching for both of them looked to be black too, but upon closer inspection it was actually a dark green, it seemed she had a lot of green lying around.

He wondered if she would notice if they took out the thread later, or if this was a ‘gift’ they'd have to rewear, like with his extended family.

“Well, when you two are done, come back to the kitchen and I’ll make you something more filling than cookies!” she said, and muttered, “God knows you two don't eat enough.”

“Yes ma’am.” they said in unison.

With another squeak and a giddy grin she shut the door behind her.

A few minutes later, the door slowly creaks open. And two heads pop out.

Archer was losing his mind. Maybe he saw wrong? Or was finally going mad like the general public believed.

Surely something had happened to his head because he could have sworn he just saw a child.

Two even.

“Uh…did you see that?” he asked Bird, welding pen loose in his grip.

Bird looked up from adjusting one of his contained moss cultures, “Hmm? See what mate?”

Archer was leaning comedically far in his chair to see out the door, cord stretching to its limit.

“Just. Two little…I don’t know, ghosts maybe? One of Maijabi’s do you think?”

Bird raised an eyebrow, “Something on the loose in the society again? Should we tell the others?”

“Uh, could be my imagination.” he said, but set the pen down where it wouldn't burn anything. He stretched his arms above his head and groaned.

“Well, I’m overdue fer a break anyway, it’s been a while since anything interesting’s happened around here.”

Flowers was on the hunt.

She was on her way to the kitchens for a bite when she saw a short shadow dart through the common room.

Fortunately she had all sorts of equipment in her pockets, a true scientist is always prepared! But for some reason her emf reader wasn’t picking anything up.

Not under a couch… not behind this case…

The clack of shoes alerted her to someone approaching but she was more interested in the sound of wheels or metal boots.

“Hello Flowers, what are you looking for?” Tweedy then, she should remember to ask about some more batteries before he left. Her mosquitoes were too small to include a charging port.

“A small robot,” she said, checking under a table, “ ‘bout waist height. I think one of Pennybrigg’s creations is on the loose.”

“Oh, is that what I saw? I thought Ito shrank someone again.” he laughed loudly.

“Yeesh, that woman can be cruel when she's pissed off. Still can’t believe Dr. Jekyll taught her how to do that.” she shuddered.

Tweedy leaned on an armchair, derailed from whatever he’d been doing, “Actually I heard it was Hyde, everyone forgets he is Jekyll’s lab assistant.”

“Ah, well I’ll believe Hyde did that.”

On the floor above, Lavender rushed in, skidding to a stop before the railing. A large net slung over her shoulder.

“Excuse me! Has anyone seen any kids around here?”

Flowers and Tweedy looked up at her in shock.

“Kids?! I thought that was a robot?” Flowers gaped.

“Well *I* thought it was one of our creatures. I saw something slip out of our lab and was chasing it, but it turns out there's actually human children running around the society!” Lavender wheezed.

“I can’t emphasize enough how dangerous this place is for kids.”

The two on the ground floor looked at each other, slack-jawed, then scrambled to help her search.

“Well, we’ll just hope none of your creatures slipped out after them!”

By now it had spread throughout the society that somehow, for some reason, there were children there.

A good amount of lodgers were gathered in a random hallway, loudly trying to figure out what was going on.

“Is it true? Are there really children here?” someone asked.

“Sure are!” Pennybrigg laughed, “I saw them with my own eyes!”

“Huh, I thought that's what that was but I didn't think anyone would be dumb enough to let kids in here.”

“Does anyone know how many? We can’t have any left behind that's for sure.”

“Just two. I had to chase them out of my lab.” Griffin huffed, “The damn brats laughed at me.”

That earned a few snickers from the very mature adults in the room.

“How’d they even get in here is my question.”

“Well, it’s not like we keep the doors locked, it's probably just some curious teens here for a lark.”

“No, they looked younger than that. What if they're lost and need help?”

“Has anyone seen Dr. Jekyll? He’ll want to know about this.”

“Screw Jekyll! We don’t need him to hold our hands all the time, we can find two kids by ourselves!”

“But if they get hurt it’ll reflect badly on the society!”

The crowd murmured in worry, with people either confirming they locked their labs or resolving to. Luckett cursed and sprinted off right then, almost losing his hat in his haste.

“Then we’ll just find them before they get hurt! Come on, less talking, more looking!” someone said, clapping their hands loudly.

With that the crowd split off into different hallways.

“I GOT ‘EM!”

Twenty minutes later there came a cry from Ranjit Helsby.

Like a flock of birds the lodgers descended upon him. Cheering and pushing to see his catch.

“You cheeky buggers can’t hide from us!” Helsby crowed.

The exploratory bathynaut was carrying one child in each hand.

Scruffed and struggling like kittens, the two were yelping and crying for help.

They seemed to be about the same age. One was brunette, with a healthy flush, and dark brown eyes. He was yelling to be put down and kicking his legs in the air.

The other was smaller, frailer, a little pale but was squirming and kicking the same. He had a wild shock of blond hair, and quite the set of lungs, his voice quickly growing hoarse from his shouting.

The outfits they were wearing were odd. They weren't anything fancy, though they certainly weren't the rags worn by street urchins. Bizarrely, neither of them were wearing shoes. Just plain clothes with visible stitching.

Contemplative, Flowers reached into her pocket.

“Oh Helsby, put them down already!” Cantilupe cried, “They’re damn near the verge of tears!”

Sure enough the boys looked like they were about to start bawling. With the blond starting to hiccup, and the brunette's lip wobbling dangerously.

Pouting, Helsby did, trusting the wall of lodgers to prevent their escape.

Predictably the boys were off the second their feet touched the floor. Everyone reaching arms out and bumping into each other to catch them.

However they didn't try to escape, simply darting for the nearest person wearing a dress. Who happened to be Chabra.

They crashed into her, nearly knocking her off balance. She startled but didn’t pull away. The small boys took hold in fistfuls and buried their faces in her skirt.

Chabra leaned down and awkwardly, cautiously, put her hands on their backs.

“Aww, guys we scared them! They're just babies!” Archer cooed from the crowd, triggering a flood of coos from everyone else.

The blond one peeked out to give a glare, but it was watered down by his red nose and big eyes.

“W-Who are you people? Leave us alone!”

Lavender curiously offered her skirt to the boy closest to her, the brunette.

He eyed it for a moment, then took the bait, reaching a pudgy hand out to the fabric. He didn’t grab on though, only running a hand over it a few times.

Incapable of going one at a time, the lodgers began bombarding the two with questions.

“Are you lost?”

“Do you need us to find your parents?”

“Who sent you??”

“Wot? Nobody-”

“Yeah what? They're literally children!”

“That's what they want you to think!”

“Do you want to see me set this plant on fire?”

“What are your names?”

“Hen-er- Ed-”

“Henderson you say, I had a cousin named that, but my uncle's name wasn’t Hender!”

“Oh, shut up Bryson!”

“No my names-!”

“Do you know someone by the name of Rachel Pigdley?”

The two boys look up at that.

Amidst the swarm of questions, Flowers had managed to win their attention, the other lodgers quieting down attentively.

The boys hesitate, suspicious. They whisper to each other, not even Chabra able to hear despite still leaning at an awkward angle.

“Do *you* know Rachel?”

Flowers puffed in pride at her hypothesis being confirmed. She relaxed her grin into a softer, hopefully reassuring smile.

“I do, she's the Day Manager. Next to Dr. Jekyll, she's the boss around here. Though she’s quite nice when you get to know her.”

Pushing someone out of the way, she approached the boys and carefully knelt by them.

She reached into her pocket. And turned it inside out.

“You see? Rachel’s a friend of mine. She sewed some pockets into my dress for me.” Flowers showed the boys the stitching on her inner pockets. The thread was a lighter shade of green than theirs, to match her dress, but visibly the same pattern and spacing.

She could have done them herself but these ones had been thanks for fixing an alarm clock Hyde had broken when he came in a window once.

This more than anything seemed to convince the boys. They let go of Chabra completely and leaned over her pocket like curious birds.

“Yeah! Rachel patches up some of my stuff too!” Sinnet jumped in.

He raised the elbow of his shirt, where a large brown patch was surrounded by some soot that had never washed out.

Some of the others pitched in, getting the idea.

“Yeah mine too!”

“And me!”

The two boys seem convinced and relax fully. A few people let out sighs of relief that they wouldn't have crying kids on their hands.

“Do you live here too?” asked the blond, looking around at all the people.

Sinnet looked at him quizzically, “Too?”

“Yeah, like Rachel and Robert.”

“Oh, yeah! Can't say I know any Roberts, though.”

“They mean Dr. Lanyon dear. Dr. Robert Lanyon, our co-founder?” Lavender sighed.

“Huh, I didn't think he liked kids, you suppose they’re new recruits of some kind?”

“Do we look like babysitters? Half the things in this building could kill a child like *that*!” Luckett snapped his fingers.

To everyone’s surprise the two boys gasped in excitement, “Really?!”

They didn't look scared, they looked eager. And… curious?

“Er…yeah actually. Do you… want to see them?”

Lavender smacked the man on the shoulder, “Luckett!”

“Come on! You saw their faces! Remember when you were that age and curious about the world? I'd bet anything these two are scientists!” he nodded confidently.

That got some excited whispers. Everyone turned to look at the two boys.

Their mismatched eyes were open as wide as possible, jaws dropped. “You-you’re scientists?” asked the brunette.

Nods from the crowd.

They looked at each other, then back. “We’re scientists!!!”

“That settles it! Let’s give them the grand tour!!”

The lodgers broke into cheers and lifted the boys up, prancing up the stairs as fast as they could.

As the others raced towards the nearest lab, Cantilupe and Maijabi followed at a more leisurely pace.

Once they reached the landing, the rapid click of flats managed to reach their ears.

Glancing over, they watched as Rachel ran through the halls and the common room. Calling out and frantically checking behind furniture.

“Oh, there's Miss Pidgley. I was beginning to think something had happened to her to have left those boys alone so long.” said Cantilupe.

Maijabi squinted, adjusting his eyepatch, “Hm, least she could’ve done was give us a heads up if there were new lodgers. It’s not like her.”

She paused to take a breath and called out again, “Edward! Henry! Edwaaaardd!!”

“Ah, that explains it, Hyde’s on the loose again.” Cantilupe giggled.

“Ha! That'll keep her busy fer a while. Suppose we’ll have to ask about the boys later then.”

Cantilupe nodded in agreement and they carried on behind the others.

Rachel checked the candelabras to make sure no candles were knocked over.

#The Sandbox Scientists #the glass scientists #tgs #tgs jekyll #tgs hyde #tgs rachel #tgs lanyon #tgs lodgers #like so so many #i love them all #the strange case of doctor jekyll and mr hyde #my fic

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jasntodds · 8 months ago

Text

Petrichor [19]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 12,542

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, mention of abuse, mention of manipulation, mentions of death, mentions of canon characters deaths, mentions of drug use

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: We're almost done with season 3 and I am so excited!! You're all gonna hate me later lmao (again happy ending, promise) I have so many plans lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

You, Gar, and Rachel are sitting around the Lazurus Pit. Rachel has just finished giving Gar a pep talk about how she's able to do what she does out of love. Gar has been feeling a little bit like a letdown, unable to transform into different animals on command like he can as a tiger. The only times it's happened is when he's terrified, as if there's a block of fear in his head keeping him from transforming into anything else. You stay silent. You don't think Rachel is wrong. Gar could definitely change into other animals beyond being scared and maybe the answer is the love he has for all of the Titans and the love everyone has for him because everyone believes him. But, you're still stuck in your head wondering if that's always enough.

Right now, love doesn't seem like the thing that heals all wounds and makes everything better. It wasn't enough to keep Jason safe. It wasn't enough to keep him out of Crane's grasp. It wasn't enough to get Bruce to kill the Joker before he had his chance. It wasn't enough to bring Jason home. It wasn't enough for Rachel to bring Donna back. It wasn't enough for Sam to bring Jason back. It wasn't enough to keep the Titans at the tower. There have been so many things, especially lately, where it's just not been enough. Sometimes it's not enough so instead of being pessimistic about it, you stay quiet, looking at the pit and hoping it spits Dick out.

"You're quiet." Gar states, moving his attention to you.

"Oh, yeah." You shake your head, glancing back at him. "Just...waiting." You look back at Rachel. There's no guarantee this is going to work. You need another plan if it doesn't. You need another plan if it takes too long. "Do you think you could find the other Titans? Like...at some point tonight?"

"Yeah." Rachel nods her head. "I can feel their energy, too." Rachel's voice is soft.

"Well, that's good at least. Kory will know what to do." You let out a sigh, moving your stare back to the Pit.

"You don't think this is gonna work, do you?" Rachel asks.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I'm just trying to think ahead in case it doesn't or in case it takes a while. I mean, for all we know it takes a few days." You state just as the put starts bubbling. "Or...a few hours." You mutter as the three of you get to your feet, looking into the pit just as Dick's fist punches through the surface and he emerges from the thick and glowing liquid.

Dick starts to swim to the edge while you and Gar quickly meet him there to help pull him out. You both grab his arms, pulling at him until he's out of the pit and leaning back on his hands. He coughs up water just as Rachel kneels down beside him, you and Gar getting back to your feet. You and Gar exchange a look of disbelief as hope has the courage to start to fill your chests.

"Dick?" Rachel asks.

Dick manages to look at her, furrowing his brows in confusion before he falls back onto his back and passes out. Rachel looks back to Gar and you, as if one of you will know what just happened.

"What do we do?" Rachel asks.

"Is he breathing?" Gar asks with hesitance.

The three of you see Dick's chest rising and falling. This whole thing has been weird and it almost seemed like he drowned. Is there supposed to be more to do this? Or is he supposed to just...sleep off the effects and then he's just alive again? The three of you are completely confused by the entire situation.

"Yes." Rachel states.

"I guess we wait some more?" You question. "He's breathing so that's better than the alternative." You shrug your shoulders, wishing you would have pressed Jason to get some answers from Crane about him coming back.

But then Dick snaps back out of it, gasping himself awake as he shoots up. You and Gar both jump back slightly at the sudden movement and sound as if Dick is jumpscare in a bad horror movie.

"Rachel?" Dick gasps for breath, looking more confused than ever. "Gar?" Dick rushes, getting onto one knee. "Y/n?" Dick questions looking to you.

The last thing he remembers to be real is you and Jason kneeling above him, looking lost and panicked. Then there was everything in the pit which only leaves him with far more questions than answers, none of which he has time to get answers to right now. The Pit told him everything he needs to know to take down Crane. That's all that can matter right now if you're all going to save Gotham. He can deal with the rest later.

"It's okay now. You're safe." Rachel assures him. "Let us help you."

"Are you...alright?" Gar asks with worry.

"Yeah, dude. You like...died." You state with the scrunch of your nose, earning a light nudge from Gar.

"What...what happened down there?" Gar asks.

Dick breathes heavily, catching his breath and then completely avoids the question. "Crane can be stopped." Dick states, running a hand through his hair. "There's still time." Dick rushes, getting to his feet.

Dick starts to walk towards the exit as Rachel gets to her feet. He cannot possibly be serious. He just died and drowned and now he's just...going to stop Crane. Suddenly he has all the answers and he's going to go off on his own? He can barely even catch his breath.

"Wait. Dick, man, you need to rest." Gar rushes after him, the three of you right on Dick's heels.

Dick turns around, barely facing the three of them. "Anton and First Street. There's an abandoned control room. Find Conner. Make sure he's okay. Unite the Titans." Dick states in a hurry. "Y/n, with me, let's go." Dick rushes before he turns on his heels and starts darting down the hallway.

"Unite the Titans where?" Rachel calls after him.

"Take them to Donna." Dick states, not slowing down or stopping as he makes his way down the tunnel.

The three of you look between each other in confusion, trying to grasp any sort of explanation to no avail. Donna is supposed to be dead, according to Rachel. And he was in a Pit?

Dick calls your name from down the hall, his voice echoing over the bricks.

You shrug at the two of them. "Uh...alright. Good luck with that, I guess? I'll make sure he's not fucking insane." You state quickly, spinning on your heels before you jog down the hall to catch up to Dick.

You catch up to Dick who is walking a steady and quick pace, his head clearly thinking a hundred steps ahead. You eye him as you match his pace, walking right beside him. He just died? And then came back to life? There is no way in hell this man is just...fine with that. Of course, there are a lot of other things you all need to focus on, especially with him somehow knowing Crane can be stopped. There are more pressing matters than Dick's mental state at this exact point in time but that doesn't bring you any type of ease.

No one should die and then just be fine.

Jason sure as shit isn't. So, Dick can't be either.

Sam follows Dick out of the building, keeping up with him.

"We're going to meet Jason." Dick states flatly once the two of you exit the building.

"We're gonna what now?" You question, shaking your head. "And how do you expect we even find him?"

"He'll be here." Dick states, a confidence that should be reassuring consumes his voice.

How is he so sure about everything all of a sudden? The Lazarus Pit brings people back, and heals them, but...it can't possibly predict the future right? But, Dick also just said Donna is alive which means...if that's actually true the pit brings more than life back to someone. It brings some sort of clarity for things they otherwise shouldn't know. But if he's wrong that just means it's made him crazy which also means the pit did have some sort of lasting effect on Jason, too. This can't be good.

"How do you even know that?" You question, trying to figure out what is actually going on. If anything, he needs to slow down.

"He'll always go back to where it happened." Dick states.

What?

Your face scrunches in both annoyance and more confusion. You did this round-and-round question game with Jason, you're not doing it with Dick. He wants you to go and find Jason so damn bad, he can give you some clarity, too.

"What the shit with Donna being alive? How the fuck do you even know that?" You almost demand instead of asking.

"I just do." Dick says simply.

"That's not reassuring whatsoever." You mutter with more annoyance.

Dick glances down to you, seeing you grow frustrated. "The pit..." Dick says.

"Yeah, no I figured that out but you're not exactly giving out details here." You roll your eyes before you grab his arm to bring him to a stop. "Dude, seriously, are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Come on, we can't waste—" Dick starts as he continues walking.

"No, fuck that shit!" You yell, keeping up with him again. "You know, you batboys do that shit all the time. You guys say you're fine when you're not. You literally just fucking died, Dick. You can't just be fine after that. And you know if the three of you would just fucking talk about how not fine all of you are, we probably wouldn't be in this mess to begin with, right? Like that's your guys' entire fucking problem. I hate talking about my shit, too but I'm learning the more I admit how not fine I am the easier it is and I tend to feel a little bit better about it. The three of you are just fucking annoying about it and if you really think that's not your problem, you're being willfully ignorant and we both know that's not a very Nightwing thing to be." You finish with a scoff and the shake of your head.

And maybe a large part of your frustration is that neither of them seem to think they matter. They are sacrifices. Jason always thinks the world is simply better off without him and Dick thinks he's expendable. He can be the sacrifice for the greater good. It's why he's reckless and why he goes off on his own. Jason does the exact same thing. It's fine to them if they die. But, they leave these people in the wake of their deaths with paralyzing grief. This time it wasn't permanent for either of them but what happens when it is? It shouldn't be because they were reckless and decided to sacrifice themselves because they matter to people. The people who love them and they should be considered in all of this.

Dick glances down to you as you keep your eyes straight, jaw clenched tight. Dying is traumatic but you're right. They don't talk about it. Bruce never talked about anything so Dick wouldn't talk about anything and Jason never talked about anything. Batman and Robin could never be scared and they weren't allowed to let their emotions get in the way. Emotions cause blurriness and distractions. On the field, those things get you killed. But, he's not Robin. He's not with Batman. He just died as Nightwing.

"It was a lot." Dick manages to state.

"Yeah..." You say quietly.

"You almost died. I think you know." Dick says, still partially avoiding the question.

"Yeah, it was really scary and traumatizing." You state flatly because even though you were close, you did not die. He saved you. And Jason saved you. Close doesn't count here.

"Yeah." Dick keeps his word short. "I had to face some...challenges." Dick confesses, feeling the very core of his bones ache with guilt over the brutal beating of Jason even though it wasn't real in the pit. "It's hard to explain. It was a test or something." You look at him, seeing the look of distance and remorse dissolve over his face and you don't need to ask what kind of tests. "I understand Jason a little more now, him as Red Hood." Dick lets out a breath. "But I can't focus on what happened if we're going to stop Crane. "

You nod softly. "Right, yeah, got it." You let out a breath. "Your ability to compartmentalize is really something else but you should really deal with it after instead pushing it off." You say quietly, earning a glance from Dick. "Something else will always come up, you're Nightwing. You're a Titan. I'm just saying, look where we stand today like maybe it would have been different if things weren't always compartmentalized. Maybe you need to feel it sometimes."

The words almost catch you off guard. You've been running from your own pain for so long that you think that's your biggest issue. You run and it hurts you and the people that care about you. It's easier to not feel any of it but it makes being a person harder. There is blood on your hands and a part of you wonders if you had just let yourself grieve, maybe there wouldn't be. Maybe most of what happened between you and Jason after wouldn't have happened because you would have grieved. You would have felt all of it. Maybe had you stuck around after your mom died, let yourself just feel it, you wouldn't have ended up with Jerry. Maybe allowing the pain to bleed a little is how people heal from it. Let it scab over and let it mend itself over time with care and attention.

"Are you okay?" Dick asks. "You were there. You found Jason, you were there with Tim. This is a lot for you, too."

"Yeah..." You let out a sigh. "Like...I-I-I don't know. You're like this weird...weird brother I-I never really wanted or asked for and then you died. And that's just...I don't know. I fuck with you but I respect you and ya know?" You look up with honest eyes. "Kind of would suck a lot if you died permanently. You're like good at this and you're important to the Titans." You roll your shoulder, pulling in a heavy breath. "And to me." You mutter so quietly Dick nearly misses it.

"Thank you." Dick says. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me." There's the smallest touch of sarcasm in his voice.

You manage to crack a smile. "Eh, don't get used to it, Dickolas. It's cause you died. Gotta be nice to you for at least an hour." Dick shakes his head but you see the subtle hint of a smile on his face. "Why are we going to find Jason anyway?"

"He'll know how to take out Crane and we need him on the inside. He wouldn't tell Crane he's against him, would he?" Dick asks.

"Doubt it." You scoff. "Jason is smart, methodical. He still wants Crane dead for what he did to me so he's not gonna let Crane think they're on different sides just so he can have the upper hand."

"Good. We find Jason and bring him with us. I have a plan." Dick states with urgency but offers no further explanation.

"Yeah...okay. So, uh, where do I come in? The mediator, still?" You almost laugh at the idea.

"No. You said Jason wanted to talk, let's talk. You're here because I need you with Jason."

While the idea of them talking is definitely enticing, you aren't completely convinced. Jason didn't pull the trigger this time but it is his fault Dick died. And given how Jason has been about Bruce who wasn't even in Gotham when Jason was killed, you can't help but feel a bit uneasy with Dick wanting to find Jason so soon after surviving the Pit.

"And how do we know you're not gonna kill Jason? I mean, don't get me wrong, I don't want you to kill him and I'd fight like hell to make sure you don't. But...he did kind of just get you killed so you can see why I'm a little confused about you're kind of change of heart, I guess." You explain, eyeing him from the corner of your eye.

"You'll just have to trust me. I never wanted him dead. He was just giving us no choice." There's something almost sad that trickles into his voice while his expression gives nothing away.

"There's always a choice, Dick." You say quietly. "You can't say there isn't a choice when you yelled at me for killing and you're mad at Jason for killing. And you preached about how we can't be judge, jury, and executioner. There is a choice."

"Jason was going to kill all of us." Dick defends his stance, not acknowledging the hypocrisy of it all.

"So? And the ones we want dead will keep trying to kill other people. Or worse. Just because we, specifically, aren't their targets doesn't mean they get a pass. The innocent people that are their targets deserve the same amount of care and protection that we offer each other." You pull in a breath, feeling Dick move his stare to you. "We clearly didn't have to kill him, is my point."

This is the most Dick has gotten out about your motive. It's more than it being about the kids left behind. It's the bigger picture. That there is a choice and sometimes it's a bad choice and a hard choice but one that means, in your head, protecting the greater good in the same way Dick wants to protect the Titans. It doesn't mean he agrees with you, but he does see your point of view for once.

"Do you disagree with going after Jason?"

"No." You answer plainly. "I'm just incredibly loyal to him. If it were anyone else, they'd be dead. And I understand that's a bit hypocritical given what I just said. That's why circumstances and background are important when making the decision to kill someone." You shake your head. "I know him. I know him being a cold-blooded killer isn't him. Background matters."

"You're right it does. I do not want him dead." Dick offers a sincere nod towards you before it falls silent between you.

You finally reach the spot from last night where Dick was killed. Dick finds the Red Hood helmet, picks it up and takes it along with him. There's a puddle of blood still on the pavement that makes your stomach twist. It's as if blood stains everything it touches.

You're still unconvinced Jason will be here like Dick says. He's not psychic all of a sudden. But, you stay with him anyway, hoping you run into Jason and of course, you do. Somehow, Dick is right about this. Jason is yelling that Red Hood is back as he fires a gun into the air.

"Jason...it's okay." Dick calls, getting Jason's attention as he spins around quickly. His face is still covered in blood and cuts from the fight the night before. His eyes nearly bug out of his head, this can't be right. "It's me."

He knows the three of you took Dick to the Pit but there is a part of him that still can't believe it worked. Watching the life literally leave someone's body only for them to be alive the following day, that's more than unsettling. It feels wrong. It's the same wrong feeling Jason gets any time he gets a moment of silence and can hear his own heartbeat in his ears. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

But he is relieved to see Dick walking and alive. The feeling of it being wrong, is just the echo in his own bones. Dick should be the one alive. If the Pit were to work on anyone and offer someone a second chance, it should be Dick.

"It worked?" Jason questions, almost losing the breath from his lungs with the words. His eyes land on you as if you're the only one who can confirm if this is real or not.

You nod once. "Yeah, it did."

"You knew?" Dick asks.

Jason nods. "Rachel said that's where Gar was taking you." Jason explains as his eyes start to grow glassy, the guilt thundering through his bones once more.

"We don't have much time. I need your help." Dick cuts the conversation short, knowing they can't discuss this now but he's getting the idea maybe Jason did just want to talk. He looks hurt and relieved to see him and you.

You, on the other hand, are still uneasy. Dick isn't giving you any indication that this is going to go sideways but you feel yourself grip a knife from your belt anyway. This can't go sideways again. You all working on different teams has not helped fight Crane but working together should. Crane, at the very least, won't see it coming. You just don't want to see anyone else close to you die again.

"You want me to help you?" Jason asks, stretching his arms out at his sides in disbelief. He can't help. Not after what he's become. "I'm a fucking murderer."

"You know how Crane is operating. You know how he thinks." Dick starts. "He needs to be stopped or a lot more people are gonna die." Dick pauses for just a second. "You want redemption?" Dick asks as Jason hangs his head. "Do you?" Dick asks more firmly this time. "This is the first step."

Of course he wants redemption for the harm he's caused but his methods now do not align with Dick's. He's almost gotten them killed and he did kill Hank. He betrayed them. How is he supposed to go back now and help? After everything? After what he's become? It sounds hopeless and he almost lets his pity get the best of him until his eyes meet yours.

"We need your help, Jay." You plead with him.

Jason shakes his head. "You can't stop him." Jason answers with defeat rather than snark. He genuinely believes Gotham is lost to Crane. "He's got everything. The police, the Batcave. He's gonna take the whole fucking city down!"

"How?" Dick asks more in a way that sounds like a demand.

"You think I know?" Jason scoffs. "He doesn't tell me shit."

"Jay? You have to know something. You've been with him this entire time and you wanted to talk to Dick last night. You know something." You urge, practically begging him to just say something.

He told you once that he remembers everything. Crane slipped somewhere and all Jason has to do is remember. Think of whatever the hell Crane said that might be a clue.

Jason hangs his head as tears start to come to his eyes. "It was all crazy shit." Jason pauses for a second. "Like waves of anger and fear. The bright and darkened lands of the Earth. Something about an attack you and Bruce stopped a long time ago." Jason states, looking at Dick with confusion knowing Bruce never told him.

"Years ago, Crane sent a poem to Jim Gordon with clues about an attack on Gotham. A chain of explosives to release his fear toxin. We stopped him before he had the chance to set it off. Bruce took Crane's weapons and put them in the Gotham Armory to study them."

"And Crane's in the Batcave." Jason finishes. "So, he knows where those weapons are."

"And so do we now." Dick states as he extends Jason's helmet out to him. "We need to go."

Jason puts the pistol back in the holster on his leg. "So, I'm a Titan again?" Jason asks.

"No, you'll never be a Titan again." Dick states before he closes the distance between them, offering his helmet. "But, you can help us save Gotham."

Jason eyes the helmet as the feeling of being lost hits him like a ton of bricks. He never really fit in being a Titan anyway but...something about the confirmation that even if he were to change back to who he was before, it's over, really hits him. It's something he can't come back from. That part of his life, Robin, is gone. It's lost to the darkness. The Joker took it from him. Crane took it from him. The one thing he thought made him who he is, is shattered with so many of his hopes. It's lost and gone and Jason can't help but feel alone and lost now.

But, feeling that way got him here in the first place so he takes the helmet from Dick.

"How do I know you're not going to kill me?" Jason asks.

"Because now I know what it's like to die." Dick answers harshly.

Jason's eyes glance to you and then back to the helmet in his hands. It's more guilt. It's always guilt that comes back like the bladed boomerang. Jason knows firsthand what it's like to die, too and that didn't stop him. That was never a reason for him to stop. It doesn't matter that he was drugged and manipulated because, to Jason, Dick's reason should have been enough. It doesn't matter that the drug removed his guilt and his fear and the feeling of being haunted and stalked by something dark and twisted. He should have known better and he put death on Hank anyway. He lead Dick to getting killed.

He should have known better than to go after the people who actually cared about him. He knows what it's like to die and Dick does, too. To Jason, that should give Dick enough reason to kill him and yet...he doesn't and he seems sincere.

"Fine." Jason agrees reluctantly. "How can I help?" Jason asks letting out a steady breath as he nods his head.

"Come on. I've got a car around the block. We're going to break into the vault." Dick says casually as he starts walking past Jason.

Jason looks at you before you roll your eyes, trailing after Dick, Jason falling in line with you. The two of you follow Dick to the car he, for some reason, just has. You and Jason can only assume it's from last night. He had to get to Jason some way. Jason takes the passenger seat while you sit in the back, sitting right in the middle. Dick starts the drive while Jason is stuck in the car with his brother. This is not the ideal situation.

"Do you want to explain any of this?" Dick asks after a few minutes of silence. "How we got here?"

"Not really." Jason quips back with frustration looking out the window. He's not even entirely sure where to start. It all feels like this started so long ago and maybe in a way it did. Maybe it started that day he stole the hubcaps. Maybe he should have listened to Dick and you about Bruce. "After fucking everything, I just can't believe Bruce couldn't fucking kill the Joker." Jason lets out a scoff. "He fucking beat me to death with a fucking crowbar and Bruce just...fucks off somewhere." Jason scoffs again, barely able to hide the crack in his voice.

The car falls dead silent as Dick glances in the rearview mirror at you before you lean forward in between the boys. You and Dick are on the verge of exploding. This really cannot be Jason's entire motive. How the hell doesn't he know? You look at Jason who's giving you a confused and annoyed expression. You look back to Dick who is clearly trying to figure out how he's supposed to burst this bubble without it leading to another fistfight.

"I got it." You state before looking to Jason. "Who exactly do you think killed the Joker?" You blink at him with your brows raised, really hoping Jason's motive is not entirely linked to this little bit of information.

Jason eyes you, looking to the side and then back at you. The look you're giving him with Dick glancing at him has him feeling like Crane may have lied to him about that, too. But, Bruce wouldn't throw his morals away, right? Not for someone like Jason. Not for Jason. Bruce didn't kill the Joker.

"Uh...Crane said it was one of the prisoners who dressed like the Bat?" Jason lets out a scoff, playing it off in hopes this conversation is not going where he thinks it's going.

You look back at Dick who looks like he might have an aneurysm. Jason has been deadset on his new form of justice which you agree with but...if he thinks Bruce didn't kill the Joker for him, maybe that's his motive. You always felt his hatred towards Dick was just some weird rivalry amplified by Crane but if Jason thought no one avenged him...maybe that's it. You almost cringe at the idea of having to burst his bubble.

"You hear it, right?" You ask Jason as you look back at him. "Like..." You pause, scrunching your nose. "Crane, inmate dressing as the Bat."

There is no fucking way Bruce actually killed someone, the Joker, for Jason.

"Did....did Bruce actually do it?" Jason huffs as if he expects you and Dick to be messing with him as some sort of cruel payback or even to get him back on the "good" side.

"Walked into my room with a bloody crowbar." Dick states.

He cannot believe of all lies for Jason to believe from Crane, he had to believe that one. Crane is a manipulative asshole who's had Jason drugged and under his thumb ever since coming back, but how does Jason actually believe this? Even though Bruce has always been completely against murder in any instance, Jason should have known it was a lie. All of Gotham knows it was actually Batman.

"He actually did it?" Jason asks but this time, there's a sense of shock and remorse in his voice.

Every single part of him should feel relieved that Bruce would do this for him. Bruce Wayne, Batman, the same guy who has preached about not being judge, jury, and executioner, killed someone for him. Bruce killed The Joker for beating Jason to death and Jason should feel relieved and thankful but instead, he just feels guilty. Maybe wanting Bruce to avenge his death was never the thing he really wanted.

"Yeah, Jay." You nod your head, your voice quiet and sad. "Fuck Bruce, but I told you he loved you."

"Fuck." Jason lets out a groan, resting his head back on the headrest. "I really fucking thought he wouldn't do it."

Jason always thought Bruce would never break that moral code. He said it would be too easy to keep going. It's always just that one and then there would be another who's just as bad. The lines would start to blur and he wouldn't be able to stop. But, Jason did think if he ever were going to break it, it would have been for Dick, not Jason. He had no idea he actually meant that much to Bruce and now Bruce up and leaving Gotham without a trace makes sense. It wasn't that Crane drove him away or some sort of hideaway until things cooled down after losing his son. It was the grief of it all. The blame Bruce has to feel, knowing he led Jason into the road of Robin.

"Was that your only motivation for this?" Dick questions, almost not wanting to know the answer.

"Of course not." Jason sneers. "But...it didn't help." Jason grits his teeth. "I don't fucking know." Jason crosses his arms, not more aggravated over the whole thing than ever.

Crane took everything from him. And Jason trusted him.

"It's okay if you're mad at him for not saving you and thinking he didn't avenge your death." You state softly. "But now you know."

"I'm not though." Jason states as he nearly cuts you off, catching you both off guard. "I'm not fucking mad at him for not saving me." Jason's voice trails off. "I...fuck it. Forget it, alright? Crane lied to me about that, too and here we are." Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head before turning to look out his window.

Dick always felt like Jason was the type to hold a grudge, get unreasonable mad about things beyond his control. But, in the time since the tower, he got to know him better, finding out that wasn't entirely true. Jason's statement just now proves that. It was never about Bruce not saving him or even avenging him. It was him being alone. Thrown to the side the second things started to get messy. It was always about him feeling abandoned and less than, not good enough.

And you can see that, too.

You look to Dick and for once, Dick looks worried. "Don't worry," You start, earning a look from Jason. "I'll kill Crane for you." You offer him a soft smile that almost makes Jason laugh.

"Really?" Dick questions with annoyance.

"Don't pretend like you don't want him dead." You chortle.

"Yeah, right." Jason scoffs. "He's too good for it." Jason nearly chortles with you just to mock Dick.

"Hey!" Dick challenges. "Crane is bad, he just needs to remain locked away."

"No, you want him dead." You nod your head. "He killed your brother, drove your adoptive dad away, almost killed me, killed Hank, has been actively trying to get you killed for two weeks, and turned all of Gotham against the Titans. You want him dead. I can tell."

"You got a fucking sixth sense for right now?" Jason quips, this time actually letting a laugh slip from the bottom of his lungs.

"No." You chortle. "Dick isn't as stern when he talks about not killing Crane. He always has this look about killing being wrong and he always says the same thing, he doesn't do either with Crane."

"He's just a bad person." Dick defends himself, not even wanting to humor your theory behind this.

"No shit, man." Jason huffs. "I fucking died and he probably set the whole thing up."

"So did I." Dick states back.

"Gar died, you both died, Donna died and all of you came back. We all just taking turns? Where should I stand in line?" You quip with the intention of not letting them even start an argument.

"Not funny." Jason and Dick say at the same time, making themselves grimace.

You burst into a fit of laughter. "I told you, Jay. You two--"

"Shut the fuck up." Jason hits his head on the back of the headrest, closing his eyes. The last thing he wants to hear is that him and Dick even have one similarity but his voice isn't harsh and there might even the smallest hint of a smirk on his lips.

You lean back in your seat with the shake of your head and a gentle smile. This is going to eat at him for a while but you hope Bruce will come back. Maybe after you take out Crane, Dick will be able to find him and him and Jason can go get him. Maybe Jason getting to see Bruce after all of this will ease some of his guilt. You've had talks about it. You know him being fooled into thinking Bruce didn't avenge him isn't his entire motive. Jason always felt like Bruce could do more and this is doing more. It doesn't make it easy for him or make him feel better, but you know there's always more to Jason's motives than something surface-level.

Once you get to the armory, the three of you enter with ease. There are no guards this time. There's no one even here, just the three of you which allows you to walk right up to the vault. The entire city is in a bit of chaos, using up any force that might have been here. It's not ideal for everyone else, but it is definitely beneficial to you, Jason, and Dick right about now.

You reach the vault door where Jason takes the lead, lining the door with a sort of liquid that then ignites and breaks the seals of the door, fire almost engulfing the door until it hits the floor. Jason is the first one to step inside, his gun pointed forward with a flashlight on top. You follow right behind him with your own flashlight and then Dick.

"Let's go." Dick says once he gets in front of you and Jason, leading the way to case you need.

Dick opens the case only for nothing to be inside besides a book called Collected Poems by Will Auden.

"I don't get it. There's supposed to be like two hundred ampules." Jason states with frustration. "What the fuck is that?"

Dick reaches forward and grabs the book. "Bright and darkened lands of the Earth." Dick states, looking at the book.

You and Jason look between each other and then back to Dick. Of all things for Dick to understand, a random book of poems is the thing he understands. Of course, he does.

"What are you talking about?" Jason asks.

"Crane's poem." Dick states as he opens the book, flipping to somewhere in the middle. "His war on Gotham."

Jason snatches the book back, you looking over his arm to see the page Dick opened.

"Fuck." Jason groans.

Crane's already beat you here. It has to be some sort of gloat thing he's doing, like he's already two steps ahead of you. He's been two steps ahead this whole time and his war on Gotham is now in full swing. What are you all supposed to do if you can't locate the bombs and disable them? What if Crane is already out there ready to blow up the city?

"What are we supposed to do now?" You ask, looking up to Dick.

Dick pauses for a second, looking to the empty case and then back to you and Jason. "Let's go. I have an idea." Dick says quickly before he turns and heads towards the exit.

The three of you head back to the car, taking back your seats as Dick immediately starts driving. You're watching him and you're fascinated by how quickly Dick can change directions. Not a single part of you is surprised but you are fascinated by it. He was trained by Batman. To be out there, as a vigilante, you have to know how to pivot immediately. Dick is really good at it. So, is Jason. It's something the two of them have in common. The ability to adapt to anything and everything, even when everything is covered in bloody chaos.

"One poem, multiple bombs." Dick starts. "Clues to where the bombs are are placed in the poems."

"What's the plan?" Jason asks, his stare on Dick hoping Dick does actually have some sort of backup plan.

"Find some supers and stop the bombs from going off." Dick says it almost casually as if it's something so simple and easy.

"Titans?" Jason scoffs. "What are they gonna do when they see me?"

Jason knows there is no way the Titans are going to welcome him back with open arms and trust him just because Dick and you say he's safe now. Gar might but Kory, Conner, and Rachel won't. He's been actively targeting them and he killed Hank. They're not just going to forget that and move on like nothing happened. They'll likely try and kill him the second they see him at this point. He got Dick killed.

"They're not." Dick states, revving the engine before pulling over at a curb.

"What's going on?" Jason asks once the car is stopped.

"Get out." Dick states.

"Out?" Jason asks, hurt covering his voice.

"I can't bring you back to the Titans. It'll cause a war." Dick explains. "But I do need you."

"So, I'm your dirty little secret?" Jason quips.

"You want to help us, this is the way it's gonna be. I can only fight one war at a time."

You remain silent, not daring to get in the middle of the two of them. It's the smart decision because there's no way everyone will trust him. Everyone will start fighting and arguing and nothing will get done. Crane will win just because there's a fight between the Titans, which is probably what he wants anyway. It might hurt Jason, but it is the only way this can even work.

"When do you need me?" Jason agrees with a bit of reluctance in his voice.

"If you don't hear from me before, meet me back here in three hours. Got it?" Dick asks.

"Yeah." Jason says quietly.

"You, too." Dick looks back at you.

"Why do I have to get out?" You let out a scoff as Jason quickly looks back at you, wondering what you did this time to piss off the rest of the Titans.

"Safety, precautions, you two work well together." Dick states. "Three hours."

"Got it." You nod your head once before you exit the vehicle with Jason.

Once your doors are shut, Dick drives off. You look over to him and Jason dodges your stare, looking to the side. It's the shame that's eating at him. Falling for all of Crane's lies, getting Dick killed, having to be kept a secret. He was once a Titan and now they can't know he's even helping. Instead, Dick has you here because you work well together, sure, but also to make sure Jason doesn't back out of it. He's not even mad because he'd do the same thing but it hurts and he feels so painfully guilty for everything. He's destroyed everything.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head to the right. "Safe house is close." Jason starts walking, helmet in hand while Sam follows him.

The silence between you builds like a sturdy brick wall. It's in the silence that you have time to process everything. It's always the silence that acts as a marinade for all things fueled with anger and misery. Dick might be alive and Jason might be alive but Jason is the reason Dick died in the first place. He could have stopped. For two seconds, Jason could have called a truce and he didn't and Dick died for it. There never would have been a crowd. The kid with the gun wouldn't have been there and Dick wouldn't have gotten shot. Jason didn't pull the trigger, but he didn't have to. Dick stood there and told Jason the reason Dick won't kill him is because he knows what it's like to die. Well, so does Jason so why the fuck didn't Jason take that into consideration?

You know it was the drug but it bites and gnaws at you anyway because watching everyone you care about die is hacking away at you.

"You alright?" Jason finally asks. You being completely silent never sits quite well with him. There is nothing that sounds more deadly than your silence in moments like these.

"I don't know, Jay. I just watched Dick die and come back to life. What the fuck do you think?" You snap without processing your thought.

"The fuck you mad at me for now?" Jason snaps back. "I didn't pull the fucking trigger. I went there to talk." Jason barks, really not wanting to be reprimanded at the moment. He knows.

"You know what? You might as well have, Jason." You snap, your steps becoming harder against the pavement. "You could have stopped at any point and told him you just wanted to talk and explain it but you didn't. Not one part of you decided to do that. And for the life of me, I can't figure out why. So, Dick was killed because of that. You didn't do it. But that kid thinks he did the right thing to protect you. Dick wasn't even the enemy. So, that's shit." You let your own anger get the best of you, not even to tear him a part for it but just because you need to yell about it.

"It's not my fucking fault." Jason groans. "I didn't ask anyone to do that." Jason defends himself, knowing he's wrong.

"You don't have to!" You finally yell. "People will follow you like a damn cult because you command attention when you walk into a room. You are charismatic and enthralling. They have always been some of your best qualities but in this instance, it wasn't good. They believe in you, Jay." You look back over to him as Jason hangs his head, watching his feet hit the wet pavement. "But, Crane turned the city against the Titans, to follow you." You look forward as you shake your head. "I know I told you to work with him, but it didn't have to get to you and Dick fighting and him dying. It never had to end that way. You could turn them back to the right side." Your voice goes quiet with your last sentence earning you a glance from Jason.

"I didn't think he'd listen, alright? He was the one that set up the flash bang and came in ready for a fight. I didn't think it was any use and I didn't know those fucking people would be there. I..." Jason swallows his own words, not wanting to get into it.

You being willing to die for him is one thing. He hates it. He'd never let you if he could help it, especially having experienced what it's like to die. He would never. But, you love him. You have seen him at his good and bad. You've seen everything in between. Jason has fully exposed all of himself to you in every way anyone possibly could. And you would die for him. You would kill for him. No questions asked because you know Jason Todd better than he knows himself half the time. But these random people? They don't know him. Why the fuck would they kill someone for him? Why would they do that?

"I'm sorry, alright?" Jason's voice comes back down. "I know. I could have fucking done something and I didn't." Jason's saw clenches. "I'm fucking trying." His words are firm but there's a hopelessness in them.

"I know." You say quietly.

"I have a lot to make up for and I don't know if I'm gonna be able to do but I promise, I'm trying. I just...fucked it up." Jason's breath leaves his lips, the fog coming out in a haunting blow.

"I know...I just..." You shake your head. "I'm just really worried about all of you, all the time. You, Gar, Dick. You guys are the closest people to me besides Molly and I just...you're very important to me and this could be something so good and it was." You suck in a breath, the cold air starting to dry out your throat. "And I think we all deserve it. The Titans."

"Yeah..." Jason's shoulders slouch forward. "You do." Jason says quietly, keeping his stare ahead him even as you look over to him.

You've always deserved better than anything Gotham has given you. All this city has done is take everything you care about. And you only even started killing because of him. Even when Jason knows there's more to it, that was your breaking point. You're not shunned from being a Titan and maybe that'd be better for you.

"If you want to be a Titan after all of this, you should." Jason states in his way where he tries to sound really casual to hide his real feelings.

You snap your attention back to him. "Why would I do that?" You nearly scoffs at the very idea, especially coming from him.

"You're good at it and you like it. They like you and you fit in." Jason answers with ease, as if it were something he'd thought about more than a few times. "Why trap yourself here if you don't have to?"

It's as if the air is being pulled from your lungs by rusty hooks. How could he say that? He's here. Home is here. Molly is here. It's not a trap being in Gotham. Coming back, coming home, was a choice you made all on your own and not a single ounce of you even regrets it. You can't regret it. You got to reunite with Molly and while it has been agonizing lately, you had some of your best and favorite moments with Jason here. You got to make a different life again. It felt like home again. Here. Not in San Francisco. Why would he tell you to be a Titan?

"You want me to be a Titan?" You ask, doing your best to hide the hurt in your voice.

"Not up to me." Jason shrugs his shoulders casually, still keeping his stare away from you.

"That's not what I asked." You bite back, keeping your stare on him.

Jason looks back over to you as you reach the building. Jason opens the door for you, leading you in first before he shuts and locks the door behind you. You stand directly in front of him so he can't move once the door is shut. He doesn't get to avoid this conversation when he's the one that brought it up. If he wants you to leave, then he can tell you and then deal with the fact you will not.

"Answer me." You demand.

Jason looks to the right before looking back at you. He always thought you would anyway. After everything, it only makes sense to him for you to leave. You said San Francisco caused you so much pain that you didn't want to be there anymore. But, Gotham has caused you so much pain, you're not even the same person you were a month ago. He doesn't want you to leave but he wants you to be happy and he worries that just won't be here. Not with the track record.

"I always thought you would." Jason shrugs as his voice almost trails off.

"Because?" You search as your brows furrow. "What? I'd get bored of you? Tired of you?" Your eyes scan his face, knowing all of his insecurities. He can't hide from you like he can with everyone else.

Jason looks to the ground and back to you with the shrug of his shoulders. "No." Jason answers. "You didn't come back for me. Thought you'd figure it out and just...go back."

You narrow your eyes. "That's not the full reason." You say softly. "Tell me."

Jason shifts his weight, favoring his bad leg as it starts to ache. He shakes his head with defeat. "Just want you to be happy." Jason says honestly. "This place is fucking shit and you know it. And you hate Bruce but you don't wanna give this up. Bruce doesn't like other vigilantes in the city and..." Jason's heart breaks as he watches your expression fall. "Yeah, I thought you'd leave." Jason nods his head.

"Jay, I told--"

"Because I died." Jason cuts you off with a scoff. "That day on the roof, I fucking destroyed you. I died and it completely destroyed you. When you found out about the drug and Crane, then everything else, I thought you'd fucking leave."

"Yeah," You nod quickly as your eyes turn glassy. "It did destroy me. The whole damn thing hurt but that doesn't mean I want to leave. It doesn't mean I want to be a Titan." Your voice is almost pleading with him to not push without you ever saying it. "This is my home and Molly is here and my mom is buried here and you are here. I don't care if we're not together, you're here. The city is a shitshow so it needs us. It needs us and Batman to help."

"Are you sure?" Jason questions. "I mean, look at this place. I just want you to be happy. I don't fucking know."

You let out a sigh. "You didn't answer the question." You state as Jason opens his mouth. "I asked if you wanted me to. You just said you always thought I'd leave."

Jason shakes his head. "Of course not." Jason lets out a scoff, not even trying to lie or dodge it anymore.

"Good cause I'm not leaving, Jay." You nod your head. "I was always happiest here with you." Your words are barely above a whisper as you look to the floor. "So," You pull in a breath. "You don't have that to worry about. I was gonna stay anyway, no plans to leave again. Tired of running." Your voice turns airy, almost hopeful with your last sentence.

"I don't get you." Jason lets out a laugh that's filled with relief.

"Yeah, you do." You laugh softly. "You're the only one whoever did." You shrug your shoulders, moving past him to the stairs. "You know, you and Dick could probably bond over your whole dying experience now. Probably bring you closer." You offer with sarcasm earning a groan and then a laugh as Jason walks over to you.

"Oh, yeah? We sit down for a family dinner at the manor and tell Bruce all about it? Like a fucking field trip?" Jason quips right back as the two of you make your way upstairs.

"Yeah!" You laugh. "Hear me out, it might freak Bruce out which would be funny."

Jason shakes his head with a soft chuckle. "Us getting along? Yeah, that'll freak Bruce out."

You nudge him lightly. "That'll freak everyone out, actually."

The two of you go upstairs into Jason's makeshift bedroom. You head over to the window to look at the people down below. Everyone is fending for themselves and there are still fires in the streets. There aren't any cars this time. There are always cars.

You lean against the wall and slide down, keeping your head turned towards the window as Jason keeps his distance, watching you closely as he traps himself in his own head again. While you have been on Jason's side, you've also actively been trying to make sure the Titans are at a distance and safe from Jason. You can say you've always been on Jason's side this whole time and maybe that's true, but you also were entirely in the middle. It was never Titans or Jason for you. You were always determined to cut the wire. It was always going to be all of them even if it killed you.

Jason remembers you willing to die for him, how terrifying that was. No one in his entire life was ever willing to do that. Maybe Bruce would have but it's something Jason isn't sure of. He was sure of you. Deathstroke proved that and you confirmed it that night. You would die for him because you love him and Jason always thought that was absurd, even if he'd die for you, too. Dying for you seemed to be the easiest thing he would do if it came to it. But you dying for him? Insane. It had to be insanity but these past two weeks have taught him something else entirely.

You would just die for anyone you loved if that's what it took.

There is not a doubt in Jason's mind that you would put your life in danger for Gar. Of course, you would. He's Gar. Everyone would probably do it. There's Molly and Jason actually feels bad for anyone who would even think of coming after her. You'd die for Tim because of course you would. You care about him and Tim is determined and smart. Krypto is no question. You loved Donna and thought she was the coolest Titan, that's easy. You thought Kory was one of the coolest and most badass people you'd ever met while also being immensely kind. You told Jason once that the Titans need her. So, you'd die for her, too. Jason isn't entirely sure of the big reason you'd save Conner or Dawn or Hank but he knows you would. And then there's Dick. You'd save Dick because he's the leader. Because he saved your life. Because you look up to him. Because he's important to everyone.

It's not that you would die for Jason. It's that you would die for anyone you love if it ever came to it. Jason would be lying if he said he doesn't admire that. Though, he wonders if that's what will be your last straw or if you'll understand one day that you shouldn't have to die for the people you care about. Jason swore he'd die for you. That part was easy but the more time that passes, the more he's realizing he wants to live for you. Living is harder. He hopes you learn that, too. You deserve to want to live for someone and for yourself.

"What's with the symbol?" You snap Jason from his thoughts.

"What?" Jason questions, almost doing a double take.

"The rip off bat symbol. Your idea or Crane's?" You ask bluntly as your eyes dart between his and the red symbol on his chest.

Jason looks down to his chest where the red symbol stares up at him. "Mine." Jason chuckles softly, a devilish grin pushing itself onto his lips. "Why?" He asks and he walks over to the other side of the window from you, sliding down the wall and matching your position.

You let out a soft laugh as you shrug. "Funny that's what you would pick given you thought he didn't kill the Joker for you." You pull in a breath. "Why?"

Jason shrugs. "Fuck Bruce." Jason answers easily as if the answer were so simple anyone could have figured it out, as if he isn't neglecting the entire explanation.

The bat symbol represents Bruce's way of thinking. Inciting fear into the hearts of everyone so they don't do bad things. It works, sometimes. But, it doesn't work enough. The bat symbol represents a certain moral compass where even under the worst of circumstances, killing is still wrong. It represents Bruce. Jason wanted something to almost mock him, a fuck you and watch this to Bruce. Fear doesn't always work. It's not the best way. For Jason, he needed something to spite Bruce, prove his methods will be better because there should never be another Jason. Or Dick. Or any of them. No one should have to suffer the way all of them have. It was to represent everything Bruce refused to do for the greater good.

But Bruce did kill The Joker so Jason feels lost.

But then you offer this warm smile, one that says you understand every single thought in his mind without him ever having to explain.

"Yeah..." You sigh softly. "Fuck Bruce." You laugh softly. "I like it, by the way. Bruce only killed him for you. He never would have under any other circumstances." You pause before you tilt your head to the left quickly, raise your brows. "Well, he might have for Dick, too. But, it would have to be one of you. So...good for you, Jay." You nod your head softly.

"Don't think it's fucked?" Jason chortles.

"Oh, no it definitely is." You nod quickly. "I mean, just when I think I've got some daddy issues, I meet you and Dick. It's definitely fucked. But, like it anyway." You smile but Jason doesn't quite match it. There's a sadness washing itself over his face. "I think Gotham will like it, too." You say quietly.

"Yeah? Why?" Jason repositions, pulling his right leg to his chest. "Because I'm charismatic and enthralling?" A touch of a grin finds itself on his lips.

"Fuck you, no." You laugh softly. "They're brainwashed but...I think it took one video because you've already been out there controlling the drug trade, looking to get into guns. You've taken out some really terrible people and are trying to get this shit under control. They already liked you."

"I also helped get a drug onto the streets and contributed to everything with Crane." Jason points out.

"Yeah, but you've been distancing yourself and you also tried to save Nightwing. I mean, you tried to kill him, too but you just tried to save him and they'll remember that. They'll figure out Crane brainwashed them and see you were also brainwashed."

"I guess we'll see." Jason lets out a scoff. "But, thanks." Jason offers you a nod.

"Just being honest." You pull in a breath as you move your stare back to the window. "You gonna keep Red Hooding after this is over then?" You look back at him with hopeful eyes.

Jason shrugs. "Yeah, maybe." Jason nods his head softly. "Especially with Bruce fucking MIA." Jason gives you a soft smile. "You gonna keep this shit up?"

"Absolutely." You nod with confidence. "You're right, I do like it. The vigilantism, I mean." Your smile turns kind and loving. "You're a good Red Hood. You're gonna help a lot of people, Jay." Your smile is warm and honest, filling Jason's entire chest with hope.

"So are you." Jason matches the smile before the two of you look to the window, falling into a comfortable silence.

You get a text from Dick, apparently, the towers are back and running which is a relief but according to his text, Crane released some of his smoke downtown. He leaves the text with a warning for you and Jason to stay where you are until the smoke dies down or until he says otherwise. So, the two of you seem to be stuck here for the night.

You're safe here, entirely. You don't have to worry about the smoke or anyone coming to kill you. You're safe from it all for the first time in weeks and it's as if, weirdly as it is, you both can breathe freely. It doesn't feel like your very breath can shatter the illusion of peace. You both are allowed to breathe freely and openly.

You let your mind wander anywhere but to the disaster outside. The more you're in these situations, the more you're learning to compartmentalize it. There is no choice in this. It has to be done otherwise it'll eat you. You wonder how Dick is able to do it so well. Surely that's how he's so good at being Nightwing. He isn't heartless, he just shelves what he needs to until after a mission. It's something you need to be better at and so you sit here tonight and try to do it. You focus on anything but the disaster.

And then there's Jason who finds his mind going to your previous conversation a few minutes ago. You think he can be a hero again. He can use Red Hood for good, do it his own way. He lifts his head, looking over at you and how peaceful you look. You really do trust him. You really do just believe in him, after everything, there's something in you that believes in him even when you absolutely should not.

Jason keeps his eyes on you, wondering if you're right. He hopes you are. Jason just wants to help. That's what he wants to do. That's all he's wanted to do. That was supposed to be the plan before Crane showed his true motive. Jason wants to help the innocent people Bruce overlooks. Sex workers, sexual assault victims, domestic violence survivors, children who are put in all of these situations. A lot of them never make it onto Bruce's radar. He's busy dealing with everything else and a lot more of it happens in places like Crime Alley, somewhere Bruce doesn't go unless it's the anniversary of his parents' death. Someone needs to keep them safe, too. He wants to control the crime because he does believe that's the right way. No one can stop crime. That's impossible. But, Jason thinks he can control it. It's worth a shot. Someone needs to try. That's what he wants to do.

Maybe he can do it.

"I can feel you staring at me, Jay." You state as you look back over at him.

"Sorry." Jason mutters, feeling heat rush over his cheeks as he looks back outside.

"What's going inside that head of yours?" You ask.

Jason looks back to you, letting a beat pass before he settles on what to say. "Thanks for believing in me and being here." Jason pulls in a breath.

"Always." You say softly before it goes quiet again.

Time ticks by and it's you that ends up glancing towards Jason. He's holding his bad leg to his chest, seeming to be absentmindedly massaging the muscle of his thigh with his thumbs as he keeps his stare out the window. The white streak reflects off the lights from the window and the bruises are bright red from Dick's fists and enimga sticks. But, he doesn't look stressed this time. He looks content for once. And you always think there's hope for him but his position confirms it.

Which, lets your mind wander back to how you and him were. It wanders back to the night outside Excellent Gotham. It was the right thing to do. There is good, there is bad, and there is all of this grey in between. Something might be the right thing to do, for the greater good, to save someone, but that doesn't always make it fair or just or painless. It was the right thing to do, to save Jason. But, you wonder in the silence of the night, what happens after then. The bell has been rung and you're dealing with it but it doesn't feel good. Being around him feels like you're trying to breathe through water. You don't want to give up on you and him. You're gonna take out Crane, the Titans are going to leave, Bruce will probably come back, and it'll start to fall back into a new normal. And you want to know what kind of new normal that's going to be.

You want the new normal to still be you and him.

But you don't even want to ask about it. You hurt him and it just doesn't feel right to ask even if it'll gnaw at you until you do.

"I can feel you staring." Jason quips, looking at you, saying it on purpose.

You roll your eyes but the smile never reaches your eyes before it falls. "Yeah, yeah, yeah." You mock him, waving a hand haphazardly at him before you get to your feet and stretch before you lean your back against the wall. You look back at Jason and you can tell by the raise of his brows and his wide eyes, he's expecting you to elaborate. You let out a defeated sigh. "Hey, Jay?"

"Yes?" Jason answers expectantly.

"Where do we stand?" You ask bluntly. "I mean....you and me." You nod once. "After all of this and everything. I'll follow your lead." You nod a few times. "Ball's in your court this time."

As much as you would like to go to the roof and scream your lungs out about how much you want to be with him and how much you love him, you know you can't. None of that is fair to him. Jason Todd was murdered and then came back from the dead. He was used and abused and manipulated. He's not fine and he should be able to learn how to live now, rediscover who he is after all of this if he needs to. You telling him you want to go right back to where you were before he died, sounds cruel. It's as if you won't give him a choice, like you expect him to just be normal and you don't. So, you ask him and you let it be his decision because it should be. It was you that ended things anyway and it was you that betrayed him, more than he betrayed you is the way you see it.

Jason feels his heart in his throat. He hates this but he knows there is no other choice. He swears this one fucking time, he is not doing it to push. He is doing it for himself and for you. He owes you more. He owes you more than he has ever given you. He owes himself more.

You have said it over and over that Jason is loved and he is not alone, at the very least, he has you and he is loved by you. There is not a single day that he is not eternally grateful for you. But, that's not enough. It's not enough because, after everything, Jason still feels like he is not enough. He watches the chaos he has brought on all of these people who he cares about and who care about him. Someone who is enough, doesn't do that. And he died. The trauma of that isn't going to go away because you love him and he loves you. He desperately wishes it were so simple, but it's not.

Jason swore he would never hurt you but he thinks about that night outside of Excellent Gotham and how it looked like it was ripping you to shreds to end things and to give up on him, even if you never meant it. You didn't deserve it. He needs to figure himself out and sort out some of this pain in his chest before it metastasizes more. He needs to just exist for a second and work on who he is after coming back. He owes it to himself and then he owes it to you. It's not fair to continue something if he isn't sure he'll be okay in the end of this. That's not fair to either of you.

So, as much as it physically pains him, he knows where you stand.

"Uh..." Jason pulls in a breath and you know. Jason doesn't stutter often. "I really fucking hurt you." Jason nods his head.

"I hurt you..." You hang your head in shame before looking back to him.

"Yeah, deserved it though." Jason lets out a scoff before he shakes his head. "Look," Jason starts as he pushes himself off the wall and walks over to you, standing in front of you. "I don't want to ever hurt you again." Jason states and you know there is a but coming. This is not going to end the way you dreamed it would. "So, I think-think we need to sort our shit out."

You hang your head, feeling the lump in your throat. It was as if the night you ended things, it wasn't quite real. He was high and you were mad. Then you rescued him and it's been kind of weird ever since. It didn't feel quite like you broke up but it didn't feel like you were together. It has felt like this weird state of in-between where you're tripping over each other trying to find the right footing. And now, it seems you've found it in an unknown territory. It's scary.

It's scary because after being rescued, Jason is one of the only things you know. And you know that it's going to be good for you to find yourself without him, find out who you are outside of Jason and the Titans. It's for the best and you know. But, you also know Jason and Jason Todd has always loved to avoid things that are good for him. Good to him. What if he avoids this forever and this is really it?

"I'm sorry." Jason says quietly.

"It's okay." You nod up at him. "You're, uh, you're right. You died."

As much as you saw it coming, you feel blindsided. You are not together. He is not breaking up with you because you did it first. But, it feels that way anyway. He is right. You need time and space to heal and deal with everything that's happened. Maybe you could do that together but maybe you need to figure out who you are now. You are not the same people you were before he died. Jason Todd died that day and so did you. You need to just exist without each other even if it is the most painful thing either of you will ever do.

Jason nods. "Yeah," He scoffs. "It's not fucking fair to you or me if we jump into this shit again."

You nod softly. "Yeah...you're right." You push off the wall, closing the distance between you. "For what it's worth, I'm still sorry for everything that's happened to you, Jay." You sniffle softly.

"Thanks. I'm sorry for everything that's happened to you, too." Jason lets out a soft sigh, looking to the floor before he looks back to you. He will find his way back to you because you're everything he's ever wanted and he wants to deserve you one day. "Friends?" He asks, sticking out his hand with the quick raise of his brows.

"For now." You take his hand in yours. "We'll find our way back." You say softly but with certainty.

"Hope so." Jason quips right back with a cheeky grin. "I'll miss you being up my ass all the time."

You roll your eyes as a smile starts to fade over your lips. "Shut the fuck up." You groan, making Jason chuckle softly. "You're my favorite person, ya know?"

"And you're mine." Jason says simply, without hesitance.

The room falls silent, the two of you still holding each other's hand right in the middle of you. It's as if you aren't sure how to backtrack. How do you go back to being friends? You were never meant to be friends. There was always something more there. Something strong and tender, throbbing and beating like a desperate heart pumping blood through an open artery. You have stained each other with every scar and crumb of yours. How do you take it back? How do you cleanse yourselves and try again? Can you even do it?

Jason's grip on your hand tightens and he doesn't want to leave it like that. As friends. The very idea is bitter and stale. He knows it's for the best. For the first time in his life, he is doing something to better himself and protect you. It's not just self-destruction this time. He wants to be better for himself. He never wants to get here again. And to do that, he needs to do it on his own. Jason won't risk dragging you down with him again as he drowns himself. He's not sure if he'll come out the other end alive this time, but he's willing to try for himself. And then for you. But, that doesn't make this whole thing easier. He still loves you. He still wants you.

You feel it, too. You know he wants to reach forward, pull you into him just for old times sake. You're going to defeat Crane tonight, one way or another, and then you'll go your separate ways for a little bit...as friends. But you think about the last time you had a proper kiss, before you knew you'd end up here. He was alive again. It was a kiss of relief. That's not how you want it to end. You fully believe you will come together again but what if you don't?

The idea makes your stomach twist into knots. And you know Jason isn't going to act on it, out of respect for you. It's the way his hand squeezes yours, the way he won't let go and how he has that dark but kind look in his eyes. The way he is intentionally holding his stance just enough away as if he'll walk into a bear trap with one step forward. He'll never act on it out of respect for your space so when Jason finally starts to move away, you pull him back.

Jason eyes you and then the very corner of your mouth twitches up as you squeeze his hand, pulling him just a little closer to you. You move your eyes up with the raise of your brows before looking back to him and then you shrug effortlessly.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck it." Jason lets out in a single breath before dropping your hand and cupping your face, slamming his lips against yours.

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