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jasntodds · 10 months ago

Text

Petrichor [16]

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

Words: 13,749

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, blood, gunshot wound, a little bit of gore, mentions of death, panic attacks, hurt/comfort

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: Hey!! lmao so sorry for the super late update. I was sick and then some personal stuff happened and then I thought I got covid so yeah hi lol I'm so sorry lol This chapter was like 20k+ words so I split it into two because that was a lot 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 😭

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Jason is stuck pacing back and forth in the room he’s calling a bedroom now. Worry has taken every part of him as his hand grips his phone like a vice. It’s been hours. He hasn’t heard from you or Dick or Gar. He hasn’t heard from anyone and he’s tried calling you seven times. But, your phone is off and your phone is never off. That is the one thing about you, your phone will never be off unless there is a reason for it and being hurt isn’t a good reason. Not to you. The only time your phone even dies is…never. Jason thinks about it and he doesn’t think you’ve let your phone even reach 20% in the entire time you’ve known each other. He thinks it’s probably so someone can always find you and you can always call for help because you’re almost paranoid about it dying. Your phone doesn’t die.

That leaves Jason thinking the worst of the worst. If your phone is off, that means it has to be dead or you shut it off for some reason but that’s uncharacteristic of you. So, he thinks maybe it did die and if it died, that’s because you didn’t charge it. If you didn’t charge your phone, it’s because you were physically incapable of charging it. What if something really bad happened? What if you were shot somewhere else? Jason knows Crane wanted you taken care of, maybe he shot you twice but you’re really good at hiding your pain when you need to. Adrenaline probably kicked in and shock, you were scared for Tim. Maybe you didn’t realize how bad it was. What if there was a complication of some sort and something bad happened?

Jason’s mouth starts to water as his eyes burn. His brows pinch together hard as his teeth grind so hard his jaw starts to ache. He was brought back. But, a part of him really hates that he was. Would you want to be brought back? If you died, would you want to be brought back like him? Jason comes to a stop, trying to steady his own breathing as his leg aches and burns. The scars on his chest feel like he’s being cut open again. What if you don’t want to be brought back but Jason did anyway? What if you did, and he does nothing?

What if you did die?

If you did die…Gar would call him, right?

Gar would definitely call, Jason assures himself. Gar would call immediately if something were happening. He has the number now and Jason’s ringer is on with the vibration set to strong. He has no missed calls but he’s certain Gar would call. If not, he would have called Molly and Molly would have found a way to call Jason. If you were dead, one of them would call him.

And then Jason swallows his own heartbeat as his phone starts ringing.

Gar.

“Hey.” Jason clears his throat, trying to keep himself together as he tries to prepare himself for the worst news he’ll ever get.

“Is she there?” Gar asks and Jason can hear the worry etched in his voice.

“Uh…no?” Jason questions and he’s not sure if he should be relieved or panicked with Gar not knowing where you are. At least he’s not calling to tell Jason you’re dead but that does not rule out you bleeding out in a ditch somewhere. “I told her to go with you.”

Gar sighs on the end, running a hand through his hair. “She took off. I thought maybe she went to find you but she was hurt and she’s not answering her phone. Molly hasn’t heard from her either.”

Jason already figured you wouldn’t go to Molly. If you went to Molly, she would worry, give you a look you don’t like, and you’d run away again anyway. The last thing you’d want to do is drag Molly into it further. But, Jason really hoped you’d have listened for once and just went with Gar. Or at least sent a text to one of them to let them know you’re okay or not.

“She hasn’t been around.” Jason keeps his voice quiet and he looks around his room as if the answer is going to be written on the walls.

“Uh…hey, I know this…might not be what it’s for, but can you track her? She was shot and we’re all really worried.” Gar’s voice is hesitant as he scrunches his nose, hating the idea of having Jason do it. It feels like an invasion of privacy, especially Gar being the one to ask but it’s a last-ditch effort.

Of course, Jason’s been thinking about it. But, something in him can’t get himself to do it. On the small chance you did shut your phone off, that means you don’t want to be found. Jason can’t overstep, he can’t intrude on you. Even if he is desperately wanting to because you could be dead. He thought maybe he’d give you twenty more minutes and then he’d just do it anyway.

“Have you looked for her?” Jason asks, eying his tablet you left out.

“No, I called you first.” Gar admits. Honestly, Gar doesn’t even know where to look but he knew Jason would.

With no one out looking for you, maybe they don’t have to track you and possibly invade your privacy. If you’re just blowing off steam or punishing yourself, Jason knows exactly where you’ll be. He figures, if him, Gar, and Molly can’t find you within an hour, checking all of your spots, he’ll use the tracker.

“Okay, you and Molly go look for her at her usual spots. Molly’ll know ‘em and I’ll check a few others. If we don’t find her in an hour, I’ll track her.” Jason nods his head on the other end.

“Do you think we’ll actually find her? I mean you know how she is.” Gar isn’t trying to be pessimistic but it’s been hours and he thought for sure, you would be with Jason.

Jason can feel the panic attack starting to course through his blood. His heart is racing and his hands are growing clammy and he’s getting unreasonably angry. It is not Gar’s fault because even on a good day, getting you to listen is like pulling fucking teeth, especially when it has to do with taking care of yourself. Jason knows this better than anyone but he’s mad anyway and he knows it’s the panic attack. You were fucking shot and he took off so he’s mad at himself for listening. And he’s mad that you were shot and Gar didn’t stop you. He can turn into a fucking tiger for fuck’s sake, couldn’t he have turned into a tiger to stop you? Tackled you to the ground and pinned you there, dragged you to the manor kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do. You were shot and maybe you’re dead now and he didn’t help. And Jason didn’t fucking help.

“Fuck! Gar, then you should have fucking followed her!” Jason snaps and immediately feels bad about it but any part of him that should apologize is washed over with guilt and regret and more anger. “Just go fucking look for her with Molly and I’ll look other places.” Jason grabs his coat from the bed and heads for the door.

“Where should we start?” Gar is quiet on the other end.

“The zoo.” Jason spits right back without even thinking. “Start there, then the harbor and I’ll–” Jason cuts himself off as he swings the door open, seeing you right in front of him with bloodshot eyes and blood-stained clothes and hands.

Gotham never sleeps. It never stalls. Everything is always moving, always loud. There is always something going on, people always going from one spot to the next in their lives. In some ways, it’s a little comforting. A reminder that you are here. You are here and alive like all of the people you passed on your walk here living their own lives. On the other hand, you wish it were quiet sometimes. You wish it were quiet sometimes because everything seems too much sometimes and your skin crawls while your heart feels like it’s going to beat out your chest. Your head spins and everything feels too much. But, it was quiet in the basement. It was quiet in the tower before you were attacked. It was quiet in the tunnels. It was quiet when you found Jason. It was quiet when Tim was shot. Maybe quiet is the surrounding air grieving for the mess fate’s created.

So, you stand in Jason’s doorway because quiet with him, alive and breathing, has always been the safest place to be. You stand weakly, haunted by everything that’s happened as the very idea of existing physically pains the deepest parts of your heart.

It’s hard to go through the same shit all the time. You’re just supposed to be fine with it. It’s happened before and you got over it, so you can get over it again, right? At some point, someone reaches the end of their rope and you think you might be there. It is the same pain over and over again and it never gets any easier. Time passes and it all just hurts anyway. People say time heals everything but you don’t think that’s true because you think about your mom dying and it’s like the wind’s been kicked from your chest all over again. You remember Jason’s body and it’s like you're being waterboarded. Time doesn’t heal anything. It’s not even like you’re used to it. You were just traumatized and avoid thinking about everything so it doesn’t fucking hurt so much. But, even that’s just exhausting. Existing is hard and tiring and painful.

Maybe you’re just tired of being in pain.

Your bottom lip starts to quiver and you always felt safest with him. Even from your own thoughts. You never felt too much pain around him. He always knows exactly what to do and it’s all too much right now. Being alone doesn’t work anymore. So, you stare up at him as Jason’s brows pull together with a cross between worry and relief.

“Jason?” Gar calls. “You there?” Gar asks.

“I got her.” Jason says. “She’s here. I’ll call you later.” Jason says quickly before hanging up. “Hey.” Jason’s voice is soft and careful, noticing you’re not making eye contact with him.

You walk the couple of feet up to him as Jason keeps his stance, almost ready to do whatever you’ll need. And all you do is lean forward and rest your forehead against his chest. Jason lets out a breath and you’re able to pull one in for the first time. Jason rests his hand on your back, rubbing up and down slowly as he hears you sniffle against him.

“Gar was calling in a search party. Where the fuck were you?” Jason asks and he should have some sort of bite in his voice but he’s too worried and too relieved.

You look back up to him and shake your head. “Walking. I couldn’t-I couldn’t…do it.” Your jaw squares as you try to hold back your own tears. “S-sorry..I-I didn’t mean to…to, uh, worry you guys. I-I just…just couldn’t.”

Jason nods with understanding, looking you over and it doesn’t look like you took care of the gunshot wound. Your clothes are soaked and your hair is an utter mess. There’s blood on your face and he swears your cheeks are stained with tears and you actually look cold.

Jason rests his hand on your cheek and you finally meet his eyes. “You alright?” Jason asks softly.

“Hurts.” You mutter and his hand almost feels like it’s burning your cheek. He’s so warm.

“The gunshot?” Jason questions, almost afraid of the answer.

“Everything.” You answer weakly with defeat.

You've never seen his look on him before. His jaw is squared but it’s soft rather than harsh like he’d been trying to shatter his own teeth. His brows are pinched but not completely pulled together and they’re aimed downward, etched in worry. His eyes are scanning you over every few seconds as if he’s stuck between thinking you aren’t really here and terrified something really bad is about to happen. Jason Todd worries and you've seen him worried plenty of times but this is different. You've seen him scared, too, plenty of times. More times than you can really count. But, this is different. It’s a different look and it’s because it’s you. And that look alone, chops and hacks at the barrier holding you together until it finally crumbles at your feet.

“It’s all my fault, Jay.” You sputter as you feel your eyes starting to water again. “It’s all my fault and I really fucked up and Tim could die or he did die. I don’t even know cause I left and I’m a fucking coward for leaving and it’s all my fucking fault.” Your mouth waters and you can’t look at his eyes because it’s all too much. “And there was so much…blood again. And the last time…it was you and it was horrible and I lost you and I couldn’t do it again and it just hurts all the time.” You suck in a shaky breath. “And-and Gar would say it’s not my fault and he’d give me the look but it is my fault. And Dick would be mad at me and I deserve it but I can’t hear it right now because I don’t know if I can handle it. And….it’s just-it’s just my fault. And I don’t know if could save him but I tried and I tried to save you, too.” You sputter before a sob finally rips through your throat. It bounces against the walls in a strangled and broken wail as if the very life you've lived has finally taken its toll on you for the last time. Jason isn’t sure he can listen to it because it physically pains him to see and hear you like this.

“Y/n.” Jason tries to get out but you shake your head.

“I tried really fucking hard to save you and it didn’t work. And I had to call Bruce and beg him to help me and he couldn’t and it was so fucking horrible and painful and scary.” You try to suck in a breath as tears scatter down your face. Everything is just wet and ugly, and burning. “It was so bad and I was so alone.” You suck in a ragged breath, your voice cracking and breaking between sobs. “Because Molly didn’t know and fuck Bruce and Gar wasn’t here. I was so alone and it was so scary because there was so much blood and brain matter.” Jason almost winces hearing it. “I don’t know if I would have been able to recognize you if you didn’t have the fucking Robin suit. It was so fucking bad and it hurts to think about and believe it happened but you’re here. And then Tim gets shot and there’s so much blood and I had to ask Dick to help and it’s like I’m there with your body again and it’s scary and it’s painful and I hate it. I hate how much it hurts. I hate doing this. I hate that it keeps happening.” Your chest heaves as you look at Jason with tears soaking your cheeks and your eyes finally meet his. And all Jason can see is defeat. “What if it just keeps happening?”

Jason shakes his head and every single time he is reminded you were the one that found him, he sends himself into a guilt-ridden spiral. Of course, you found him. That isn’t the issue. The issue is what it looked like from your perspective and the devastation it caused. He knows. He knows what it is like to find someone you love dead. He knows and it’s horrible and painful and devastating. It makes someone feel completely hopeless and helpless and useless. There has never been a time where he felt more helpless. And then he put you in that same position, not on purpose. But, he did and it was worse because it was gorey and traumatizing and he left you. He didn’t realize how badly it had traumatized you. It traumatized him, too but it affects you.

Dying doesn’t just happen to the person that’s dead. It happens to everyone around them.

“I’m so sorry.” Jason says softly, sliding his hand off your cheek. He shakes his head, biting his own tongue because he almost wants to cry with you. “I’m fucking sorry.” Jason wraps his arm around your shoulders as he pulls you into him. He’s careful not to hug you too tight, minding the gunshot wound he knows he’ll be taking care of for you later. “You’re not coward.” Jason manages to get out as he tries to come up with an answer for you even though he doesn’t think he’ll ever have one. The reality is that it will keep happening.

“Yeah, I am.” You argue back before you look up at him. “What fucking person just leaves as their friend is bleeding on the ground?”

“Someone who’s fucking traumatized.” Jason bites back. “Someone who was also fucking shot and in shock. You tried to help him and me knowing the shit you’d get for it. You fucking knew I went after the Joker and you show up alone, ready to take him on by your fucking self if you had to. You think that makes you a coward? What’s that make me then, huh?” Jason questions back, knowing you’ll never think of him as a coward, even if he sees that in himself sometimes.

“Not a coward but that’s different.” You argue.

“Fucking how?” Jason spits back. “You left Tim with Dick and the rest of the Titans who would know what to do. You were also fucking shot.” Jason shakes his head.

Jason wonders if this is what it's like dealing with him sometimes. Going round and round, circling the drain into a self-destructive spiral that only seems to have one result. It's not that he minds, it's that you think this. You're anything but a coward and Jason can't even figure out how you could think otherwise. You always do what you think is best for yourself and for the people you care about. Always. And you fight tooth and nail, as hard and as fast as you possibly can for what you believe. That's not cowardly.

“I-I know but…” You sniffle as you shake your head. “H-how can I keep doing this? I mean…losing people and the blood and….how can I do this for other people when I can’t even save the people I love?” You ask bluntly. “That’s shit, you know? We’re supposed to be out helping people and…and I can’t even…I fail with the people that matter. So, what’s the point?”

Jason would be lying if he doesn't question what the point is half the time, especially over the last few days. What's the point of living if this is even how it plays out? Pain and chaos, destruction and lonelienss. It's all pretty miserable, actually. But, he holds on anyway because it wasn't always like this.

Shit gets bad and then it gets better and yeah, it is exhausting sometimes. But, it's always gotten better. Jason doesn't know how much better it'll get from here now but he won't tell you that. He just knows he wakes up and he tries because you were nearly beaten an inch from your life and you find so much joy and love in small things that that alone seems to give Jason some sort of hope. And because Gar's family was killed and Gar was experimented on and he is the most optimistic person he has ever met. And because Molly lived on the streets with the death of her parents and Molly is the nicest person Jason has ever met. If all of these people can just be better after everything, than he can't very well just give up. And you can't either. Maybe there isn't a point but you'll never know if you give up.

“You know what you told me? You are the one that said sometimes we fail, that’s part of the job. But, we try.” Jason licks his lips as he sucks in a breath. “You talked me off the roof. Maybe Deathstroke would have tried to kill me or done worse shit if it weren’t for you. Fucking Pete Hawkins bullshit. The kid at Jerry’s. You were the one that fought tooth and fucking nail to save Gar. And you did, by the way. You saved Tim at Excellent Gotham. You failed two fucking times but by my count, you win more often.”

“Three times.” You correct him, earning you a glare. “Gar got kidnapped, we failed then…too.”

“You were both tranquilized and they used kryptonite on Krypto. I don’t think that counts.” Jason nods his head.

“I guess.” You let out a breath, looking to your shoes. “I just, uh,” You sniffle as you shake your head, looking back to him. “I just want the pain to stop.” Your voice cracks again.

Jason doesn’t say it, but he does, too. So, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you into him.

You press your cheek to his chest, wrapping your arms around him as your breathing is still rapid and ragged. But, you can hear his heartbeat in between breaths. It’s fast but steady. A lot quicker than it usually is but it is there. A few more tears leak out as you count his heartbeat and are fully engulfed by his warmth. You hadn’t realized just how numb you had gotten from the cold until now. Your fingers and toes are starting to feel like painful pins and needles. Your arms are burning and your cheek sting from the salty tears. It’s as if you're thawing from his warmth. Between that and his steady heartbeat, you calm yourself down.

“I can try to help.” Jason whispers softly. “If you’ll have me.” Jason pulls away just enough to look down at you and your eyes meet his.

You told him before that you’d come for everything that ever hurt him if it came to it. Anyone that ever wanted to hurt him, would have to go through you. Because he was just Jason Todd to you. It didn’t matter that he could -- should have been able to -- take care of himself. And Jason knew that’s how it was for him, too. Anyone who wants to hurt you, has to go through him. But, the problem is that someone did hurt you…because of him. And he hurt you. Right now you're in pain and it’s because of him. It’s not right and it’s not fair to you but Jason wants to protect you. He’d cut out pieces of his heart and glue them to yours if it would make you feel better. He would do anything in this world if it would make your pain less. Any form of pain that wants to come for you, is going to have to go through him first. From now on.

You nod your head. “Always.” You croak out.

“Come on.” Jason releases his arms and cold rushes itself right back over your body. “Sit on the bed, I’ll grab you some clothes and supplies to clean that shit. We’ll start there.”

“Thanks, Jay.” You mutter softly, walking to the bed and Jason watches you carefully.

He wonders if this is how it always felt for you. He’d come home bloody and bruised, weak and pitiful. Scared and in pain. He never said anything but Jason knows you always knew. Somehow, you always knew when he was hurt and scared. But, it was always him walking through the door hurt, not you. And it was you that would stitch him up. Sure, he’s helped you with your hands, but you did it at least twice a week for months. And you never complained. But, Jason wonders if this is what it feels like.

It feels like he’s carrying the weight of the world for the both of you and he’s trapped in a worrying spin. And he is so fucking sad for you. It’s not pity, but just sadness. It’s wanting the best for you and you to have everything good in this world because you deserve it. And wanting to witness it because he loves you. It’s just wanting to see you smile and happy, making some stupid joke and telling him to fuck off. It’s just wanting you to not be in pain anymore. He wonders if this is how it felt being you and if so, he wants to know so badly how the fuck you dealt with it because he feels like he’s suffocating while he grabs you clothes.

Jason walks back over to you, handing you a pair of sweatpants and a red hoodie. “I got first aid shit in the bathroom so change and I’ll be back.” Jason nods his head at you.

“Okay.” You answer weakly and Jason hesitates for a few seconds before he practically runs off to the bathroom.

You're weak and unsteady as you change into the sweats. You're realizing you haven’t eaten in a while and you haven’t had much to drink either. That’s definitely not helping your mental state and you know it. But, if you were being really honest, none of those activities sound like things you're currently capable of doing. Changing is even almost too much effort at this point. And it fucking hurts as you try to take your shirt off to swap it for the hoodie.

“Need help?” Jason appears right back not two minutes later.

You always hated feeling helpless but not around him. “Yeah, it hurts.” You sniffle softly, sitting pitifully on the bed.

Jason walks over, resting the kit beside you before he lightly grabs the hem of your hoodie. Jason helps you tug it off of your bad shoulder and then over your head, you groaning the entire time. With the hoodie off, you're left in a blue t-shirt and Jason sees where the bullet hole is, covered in red and brown. With the chaos of last night, he didn’t check and wasn’t able to check if the wound was a through and through. Jason's stomach twists at the thought that it's not. But, he hides his worry, looking back to you with a soft sigh.

“How did you wanna do this?” Jason asks bluntly.

Your brows furrow in confusion. “I-I don’t know?” You shake your head.

“I can’t clean it with your shirt on.” Jason sucks in a breath and normally he’d have some comment about seeing you half naked again but he can’t quite muster it this time.

“Oh…” You whisper and you swear it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t seen each other naked before and it’s not like you didn’t see Jason fully exposed just the other night. There is something that just feels…new and vulnerable again. “That’s fine.” You nod and Jason leans forward again, tugging the hem of your shirt up and over your head, freeing your arm. You grab Jason's hoodie with your good arm and Jason helps tug it onto your good arm, you thankful it's a zip-up and not a pullover. “Guess that’ll do.” You suck in a breath and you're kind of tired of feeling like this. “I expect you to actually help and not just stare at my tits the whole time.”

Jason manages a cheeky smirk. “You know I’m ass guy anyway.” Jason glances down and then back to you.

“Shithead.” You mutter and Jason’s head swims. It’s been so long since you've called him that and it almost feels nostalgic.

“Babe.” Jason quips back.

Jason takes out his phone, examining the gunshot now that there isn’t anything in the way. There’s still blood everywhere and he can’t even tell if it’s because you did such a shit job at cleaning it or if the wound is actually that bad. Something in his stomach twists and turns into a gnawing pain at the thought this is worse than he originally thought. But, he keeps a straight face, not to let his worry cross even a single line of his face. When he worries, you worry.

Jason grabs a wet rag from the bowl he brought in with him, gently cleaning around the area to try to get a better look. You let out a shaking breath, the water cool against your skin.

“Sorry, no hot water.” Jason barely glances to you as he scrubs some of the dry blood away.

“Should probably fix that.”

“Pilot lights are expensive.”

“I have Bruce’s credit card.” You mutter quietly, earning a look from Jason.

He stops, looking up at you fully. “You would.”

“Eat the rich.” You shrug. “Or take their money when it’s offered to you and he didn’t ask for it back.” Jason lets out a snicker before he goes back to cleaning. “You should use yours. It might send up a red flag for Bruce and maybe he’ll call someone back or come back.”

You hate the words as they leave your lips because wanting Bruce back means admitting defeat. But, Gotham has gone to absolute shit since Bruce decided to fuck off somewhere. At least Gotham had some degree of fear and respect for the Bat. They don't seem to like the Titans very much. And Jason's been off his rocker and you've been stuck trying to help him. Gotham does need someone they respect. Bruce should definitely come back. And if for no other reason, to see his son is alive again.

Jason scoffs. “Yeah, fucking right.” He shakes his head in annoyance. “Fuck Bruce. I don’t need him.”

Before he died, he was getting better about talking about his problems and the things that kept him up at night. He was doing better with it but then he comes back and the very idea of talking about it makes him want to crash through a window headfirst onto solid pavement. In all fairness, he already hated talking about Bruce. It was one thing to complain about him but it was an entirely other thing to unravel and dig into actually talking about him. Now, though, it’s worse because every time Jason thinks about Bruce, it’s as if his heart starts to break all over again.

Maybe him getting bludgeoned death was his fault. He knew better. But, where was Bruce? Bruce gave up on him. And then…was going to let the Joker just…live. Jason was supposed to be Bruce’s son and he couldn’t even kill the Joker for him or do anything about him. And maybe, just maybe, Jason could get over that eventually but Jason’s alive again and Bruce is nowhere to be found. With everything going on in Gotham, Jason is certain Dick would have called Bruce and let him know. If for no other reason than to rat Jason out to “dad”. So, maybe Jason feels like he was always a little expendable to Bruce, not just Crane or the Titans. And that part hurts the most.

“Didn’t say you did?” You let out a breath. “Just saying is all.” You pull in a deep breath. “Fuck Bruce, yeah. Just saying.” You, for one, still hate Bruce but Jason hating Bruce seems weird. You chalked it up to the drug at first and Crane but…Jason’s clean. It’s weird, even for Jason. “What’s your sudden issue with Bruce anyway?”

“You got a problem with me having a problem with Bruce all of a sudden?” Jason spits back and he shouldn’t, given your current state but his heartache over being abandoned by him is fresh.

“Oh, no. I am actually fine with that cause fuck Bruce but it’s weird. After all of that shit, you come back and suddenly don’t like him. That’s weird, Jay. Even for you.”

“Never fucking mattered to him. I was always just the replacement for Dick anyway. Doesn’t fucking matter.” Jason dips the rag into the water, rinsing some of the blood off before going back to the wound.

You furrow your brows, trying to figure out where that’s even coming from. “Uh…not true? Bruce is a fucking weirdo and shit but I actually think he gives a shit about you, Jay. Outside of Robin and Dick. You always said that, too. Like deep down you knew that, so what is it now?”

Jason grows more and more angered but he knows you aren’t going to drop it. “You were fucking right, alright?” Jason snaps back. “Should have killed the fucking Joker because he killed me. So fuck him.” Jason keeps his explanation short.

“Right yeah, had he just killed him, you wouldn’t have died and it doesn’t make up for it because too little, too late shit, but like…he did—“

“Can you fucking drop it, please?” Jason’s words come out more as a demand rather than a request. “I’m done fucking talking about it.” Jason looks at your shoulder from your back, seeing there’s no hole in the fabric.

“Sorry.” You say softly. It just doesn’t sit right with you. You’d still be pissed at Bruce, too because had he killed the Joker in the first place that wouldn’t have happened but that’s…not really Jason. He doesn’t hold many grudges and Bruce did kill the Joker. It was a little late for that but he did, to avenge Jason. Bruce didn’t throw his morals away for Dick, he threw them away for Jason and that would normally mean something to him. It’s weird but you know when to push and when not to. You're not in the mood to fight it anyway. “Just thought it was weird, is all.”

“It’s fine. Sorry.” Jason squints at the wound, seeing something shine back at him and his heart plummets. He grabs his phone, shining a light into the wound again. “The bullet is still inside.”

“Figured.” You let out a breath.

“I have to take it out.”

Your eyes land on his and you know this is about to suck. “Okay.” You nod your head.

“Lay back and hold the phone so I can see.” Jason hands you his phone as you do as told.

Jason grabs a pair of tweezers from the kit and he looks at the wound, grabbing your wrist to make sure the light is in the right position. Jason’s stomach twists into a hard knot, knowing how bad this is going to hurt. His leg starts to throb with the very thought of putting you through it. But, it has to be done. You're not going to go to an actual doctor for help and if he leaves the bullet in, it can lead to infection. So, Jason sucks in a deep breath and bends down hovering over the wound, careful not to block the light.

“It’s gonna hurt.” Jason glances up at you.

“Just do it.” You sigh, looking to the ceiling as your grip on his phone tightens.

Jason nods his head before gently sticking the tweezers into the wound. You slam your eyes shut as your jaw clenches. Your right hand grips onto the blanket beneath you as Jason moves the tweezers around. It’s burning and stinging like getting stung by a thousand hornets at once. It’s as if you're being shot in the spot over and over again as tears well behind your eyes. Jason is trying to be careful and quick, but the bullet is slippery thanks to the blood.

Your hand starts to shake as your breath grows rapid and uneven. You try your best to concentrate on anything besides the pain but that’s becoming increasingly more difficult. It was different when you were in the fight for your life. It was do or die and people can do absolutely insane things they should not have been able to accomplish in life or death situations. Your life isn’t in danger right now and even when you try to focus on something else, the tweezers move just enough and you're brought back to agonizing pain.

Given the events that happened, it’s hard for you to focus on anything other than the pain you're been in. You try to think of the good times but then those are tarnished like rusted silverware. Those good memories now come with pain, too. You try to focus on what you’re going to do about Crane because maybe that would kick in your fighting instincts but you're the one lying in a bed right now after being shot by him. Everything around you feels like it’s rusting and chipping away into a toxic pile of reds and browns. Tainted, tarnished, and broken.

Jason glances up to you and he can see the agony written in every wrinkle and pinch of your skin. And he can’t see with the phone basically vibrating in your hand. All he can even feel is anger and not at you. It’s entirely on him and Crane because at the end of the day, it’s his fault and Crane’s how you ended up here. You never should have been shot. You were only there to look out for him. You and Tim were collateral damage. So many people around Jason end up just being collateral damage. And they don’t deserve it. But, at the end of the day, he isn’t the one that pulled the trigger at you and all he wants to do is go right after Crane. Make him feel the same pain he’s put you through. And then worse.

“Y/n.” Jason says, sternly. “You have to stop moving. I can’t see.”

You swallow thickly, trying to stabilize your hand. “Sorry.” You manage to mutter through your gritted teeth.

Jason goes back to the wound but the second he sticks the tweezers into the flesh, you wince and flinch as hard you try to stay still. Jason is no stranger to this and he knows it is agonizing to pick something out of an open wound. Nerves and flesh are exposed that should not be. It’s horrendous and seconds feel like hours. And it’s triggering phantom pain in his leg as his heart feels like it’s being suffocated with barbed wire. He knows it’s bad when you're the one who can’t sit still.

Jason pulls back, putting the tweezers back in the kit before he cups your cheeks. He bends down so his face is just an inch from yours and you open your eyes slowly, your jaw still clenched and tears threatening to finally fall.

“You gotta stay still or I’m never gonna be able to get it out.” Jason’s voice is stern.

“It fucking hurts.” Your voice cracks weakly as you sniffle.

“You were almost beaten to death. This isn’t gonna fucking kill you. You’ll be fine.” Jason nods his head once at you before he presses his forehead to yours for just a second.

You nod weakly at him. “Yeah…”

“Just…stay still and I’ll be quick, alright?” Jason asks, seeing the doubt across your face. “I got you.” Jason offers a weak smile.

“Okay.” You nod your head in agreement.

Jason nods once more before he goes back to your wound. He focuses on the bullet while the tweezers hover above you and you can’t help but notice the lack of shaking in his hands. Come to think of it, you aren’t sure the last time you saw his hand so steady. Jason has always been so steady around you. An unmovable force.

Jason looks back to you, raising his brows as if silently asking if you if you're ready and all you do is nod quickly before looking back to the ceiling. Your grip tightens on the phone while you lock in place with all of your might just to try to stay steady.

The tweezers stick back into the bloody wound, carefully and steadily as they go right to the bullet. Jason keeps his eyes laser-focused on just getting the bullet out and you grit your teeth together as tears come to your eyes. But, you suck in a deep breath as you feel the metal scraping around the wound, clinging onto every part your self-control in order to stay steady. That’s when Jason finally is able to grab the bullet, pulling it out in a steady motion, careful not to drop it.

Jason holds the bullet with the tweezers as a triumphant grin comes to his lips. You peek your eyes open at him, the whites turning a bright shade of pale pink.

“Told you I got you.” Jason shrugs casually but the grin quirks into a cheeky smirk.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah thanks.” You roll your eyes as you sniffle.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, that shit was just, uh painful. I really don’t recommend getting shot.” You lay the phone down beside you before rubbing your right eye.

“Yeah, don’t plan on it.” Jason quips back. “Probably stop hurting soon without the bullet.”

“Be nice.” You let out a sigh. “And Dick really just went to bed like this. What a fucking psycho.”

"Yeah, but you went MIA." Jason narrows his eyes at you because maybe he is a little mad at you for it. They were all worried. He was worried. "You bitch about him but--"

“If you fucking say it, Jason Todd, I’ll kill you again.” You deadpan. “You two are the ones that are oddly similar, okay?”

Jason lets out a scoff. “Bullshit. I’m nothing like him.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, you are. You’re different but you’re similar. You just don’t wanna see it. What? You never looked up to him before all of this shit?” You ask.

Jason sits back on his heels, dropping the bullet in the first aid kit with the tweezers to toss and clean later. “What’s to look up to?” Jason scoffs. “Being a fucking kiss ass and a goody two-shoes.”

“Because he was the first Robin.” You state casually. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, about you replacing him and shit whatever. But, didn’t you ever look up to him for even a little bit?”

Jason hangs his head and while he’s always felt less than and a bit like a failure when it came to filling his shoes, he definitely did look up to him. Dick created something so special and surreal when it came to Robin. He wasn’t Batman, he was just a kid in a suit helping Batman and that was cool. Then Bruce had all of these stories about Dick and it always made Jason want to be like him because Dick was good. That’s how Bruce always talked anyway. Jason doesn’t know that Bruce always talked about Jason in the same way when he wasn’t around. And Dick doesn’t know how Bruce would talk about him to everyone else. But Jason heard the stories and how great Dick was. He never wanted to be exactly like him but he definitely wanted to be somewhat like him. Dick’s parents were killed and he got to be Robin. By all that Jason heard, it seemed he made it out of it okay. He had Robin and he got to carry that with him. He got to have a career in helping people (kind of). Jason did want to be like him but the way he sees it, there’s a reason people say not to meet your heroes.

“Still mad about the Joker shit but…uh,” You sniffle again. “Don’t know, be a lie if I said I didn’t look up to him…and you.”

“Me?”

“I always liked your Robin.” You say quietly. “You were different. Felt like we needed your version. But I told you that.”

“Surprised you still think it.”

“I think we need someone like Red Hood.” You state, catching Jason entirely off guard.

“What? Another fucking murderer?” Jason scoffs, looking to the window above the bed before he looks back to you.

He feels so ashamed of it all at times, like right now. It's because you're the one lying here after being shot by someone Jason thought he could trust. He knows deep down, crime in Gotham needs a change. The Bat doesn't fix everything, clearly. There needs to be someone out there that is willing to do more but Jason isn't sure that's him. He already burned his bridges. He doused them in gasoline and lit a match with a smile. He feels like he's on the wrong side and there's nothing he can do to rebuild that bridge to be on the right side anymore. If there's even a right side.

“No. Someone who’s willing to do the heavy and bad shit in order to prevent worse shit from happening. Like I said, I’m not just killing people for you, it’s for all of us and everyone that will come after us. I think we need people like that and people are afraid of you and rightfully so. I dunno. Just my take, I guess.”

“Been thinking about the people I killed.” Jason lets out a breath. “Heavy shit.”

“Yeah, but a lot of that is greater good shit and the other stuff is Crane’s manipulation so you shouldn’t feel too guilty for those.” You shrug your good shoulder.

Jason shakes his head and he doesn't how you deal with any of it. You don't normally deal with much, if Jason is being honest. But, you seem to be dealing with this pretty okay. Somewhere in him, he always felt like if someone were going to go on a killing spree, you would probably be that person. Your morals have never aligned with Dick's or Bruce's. You've always felt like more could be done, permanently. But, Jason's surprised you seem so okay with it and with him killing people.

“How the fuck are you dealing with it?”

You let out a broken laugh. “I’m not.” You answer honestly. “So much shit is happening that I just…can’t.” You shake your head. “Can’t think about it.”

Jaso nods with understanding. “Yeah.” Jason sucks in a breath, deciding to drop the conversation. It feels too much again. Too loud. Too heavy. “Stay still.” Jason leans forward, grabbing the rag before he starts cleaning her wound again.

You watch him carefully. He’s not handling anything well which you can’t say you really blame him for. You wonder what you would be doing if you were in his position. How would you ever forgive yourself for not only everything that’s happened but also being manipulated? Being manipulated isn’t Jason’s fault but you know he’s probably blaming himself for it because you would be blaming yourself for it if it were you. You wonder how he feels about coming back. You haven’t really talked about it and part of that is you're just afraid to ask because talking about him dying nearly sends you into a spiraling panic attack. But, you wonder how he’s dealing with that and if he’s happy he’s back.

Jason’s hands are steady as he grabs the gauze, his brows pinched together with concentration as he goes back to the wound and you find yourself wondering if you were meant to be anyway. Everything seemed so much easier in San Francisco. You weren’t together then and it was all just fun and games. Sure, you both were kidnapped and that was bad. But, that was one thing. Meanwhile, being together in Gotham has been a shitshow since the start almost. Maybe it’s just the butterfly effect but you wonder if it was just you both trying to find solace in each other or if it was as real as it’s always felt. Maybe you were just feeding off of each other’s own self-destruction and avoidance. Maybe being together helped the other one crumble.

Your eyes scan over his face and you realize, you don’t remember the last time you saw his face bruised. But, while you were together, he was always littered in them and almost always had one somewhere on his face like a Jackson Pollock. That solidifies the thought of you. Maybe you weren’t meant to be after all. Maybe you were actually bad for each other. Maybe you being together really was just you both self-destructing, knowing damn well one of you would die and it would destroy you. Maybe being together was always a way to hurt yourselves in the worst way.

And that hurts worse than the gunshot.

You've always been so sure about him. Even when you weren't sure, a part of you was. It was always supposed to be him. Him and you. But, you were shot and you're thinking a lot about how people's lives might be better if you weren't in them anymore. You're thinking about how things might be better for Jason if you weren't together. You skew your own reality, convincing yourself you got together in order to hurt yourselves. That's all it could possibly be. You ignore every thought about you confessing how loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done. You push every thought of every soft moment you have ever had into the darkest part of your mind where they can be tainted and painted over. You push away everything Jason has ever told you and goes against everything Jason has ever believed about himself and what he deserves. It all feels like lies to yourself. It was just self-destruction because that has to be it, right?

You go back and forth with yourself. One part of you thinking this must be fact and the other part of you thinking it's just because it's a bad day. Everything feels worse on bad days and it is so easy to push everything good into a dark corner and paint right over it as if it were something different entirely. And today is a bad day. So, a part of you screams and begs for you to just ask Jason because Jason wouldn't lie. If it was all just self-destruction, Jason would tell you. He wouldn't lie about it.

“Do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You ask quietly, moving your eyes to the ceiling. "Or...was it like....real?"

Jason hears the question and pauses. He almost questions if he heard you correctly but he glances back to you and you're avoiding his stare which means he definitely did. His heart sinks and he thinks he forgot how to breathe for a second. Do you actually think that? Jason isn’t sure what would hurt more at this point. You thinking that’s all you were to him or that being all you were to you.

“What?” Jason asks, more for clarity.

“I mean like…exactly, uh, what I said. Do, uh, d-do you think we were just a consequence of our own self-destruction?” You chew the inside of your cheek and you regret asking. “Or…was it all real?”

The question hangs in the air like the blade of a guillotine, just waiting for one of you to pull the rope and end it all. The air starts to feel stale and cold and heavy as Jason doesn’t move, processing the question.

He’s not entirely sure where that question is even coming from. This whole time, you've wanted nothing more than him and you've said that. You have told him that he is all you have ever wanted. Why would you just be a consequence? Was he just a consequence?

Jason sits all the way up, coming into view. “Do you think that?” Jason asks bluntly as his breath hangs in the stagnant air. It’s as if he is clawing at the last remaining parts of his voice to remain steady and not shatter and break.

You look back to him, following the hollowed lines of worry of his face. You aren’t sure he’s breathing and you regret asking the question. You don’t even know why you asked in the first place. It’s not like you actually want to know because sometimes not knowing is just better, less painful. And the look on his face isn’t making you feel any better because he looks torn between devasted and angry.

“I asked you first.” You say quietly.

“No.” Jason states bluntly, almost harshly.

Being with you was never him self-destructing. In Jason’s eyes, as much as it all got fucked up in the end, being with you healed more parts of him than he ever thought possible. Being with you actually healed parts of him he swore would never be put together no matter how hard he tried. You made him better. He got to be who he wanted to be with you and shamelessly, you fully accepted him. And he really thought, he could be that version of himself forever because you always convinced him he could. You made him want to put in a hard effort into coming home and thinking twice before doing something a little too reckless, outside of the whole Crane and Joker thing. You showed him what it was like to be loved without conditions. And Jason loves you still. No conditions. No consequence. No self-destruction. He loves you yesterday, today, and he is positive he’ll love you tomorrow and every day after that because he wants to.

“Do you?” Jason asks, choosing not to elaborate.

You swallow a lump in your throat. Despite your own negative thoughts, you know you don't. Not really. Maybe you thinking it is a self-destruction thing, maybe it's your way of trying in order to punish yourself for Tim and everything else. But, no. Of course, not.

“No.” Your voice is quiet and fragile, making Jason’s heart sink because he knows there’s a but coming. “But, uh..we just…we ended up here.” You let out a scoff. “And, uh, I don’t know.” You shake your head. “We said some pretty fucked up shit to each other and I know…uh, I know you were high but, uh…yeah.”

Devasted. That’s all Jason can feel because he’s one of the reasons you even asked. He knows he said some horrible shit to you and he can’t take any of it back. Words are long-lasting. They enter the air and stick to it, absorbing itself into your lungs as you pull in a breath and let it fester there. That’s where the words start and travel to your brain where they store away, pecking at you just at the right moments. No one can take words back and Jason knows that. But, he has to try anyway even if he doesn't think it’ll salvage you. You have to know you meant and mean the entire world to him still.

“I didn’t mean any of that shit, okay? I swear, I didn’t fucking mean it.” Jason states quickly. “I was fucking high and I just wanted to fucking hurt you which is fucked up and I’m fucking sorry.” Jason spits out quickly but with a fire. There is no relief coming to your face and even if you are nothing to each other after this is over, he needs you to believe him. Jason cups your face. “I fucking swear. We weren’t a fucking mistake and you were the best thing that happened to me and I fucked that up. That’s on me. You made me better. I’m fucking so sorry, alright?”

You nod against his hand. And you know. You were also high and none of the shit you said is true. You didn't mean any of it. You didn't even mean the shit you said while you were sober. Maybe it's just a part of you that needs it to be verified today.

“I know and I’m sorry, too. I don’t know. I just get thinking about it, I guess. We both ended up here and it’s just…” You suck in a breath. “I know.” You place your hands over his. “Because I said some horrible shit, too, and then I hit you. And uh…I know. It’s just…that on top of everything else that happened. Like…” You shrug softly. “You died, Jason.”

Jason drops his hands, shaking his head, putting the pieces together. There is no way in hell you really think him going off on his own is your fault. Every piece of that shit plan, was on Jason. It was on him to just wait and get help. It was on him to reach out and get help. It was on him not to trust Crane. Everything was on him. That's not for you to carry.

“You don’t really think that shit is on you, right?”

“I should have seen it.” You sputter. “I should have fucking known, Jay. And the more I think about it, the more I think maybe I did know and maybe I just…let it happen to teach you a lesson about being dumb out there and—“

“Stop.” Jason cuts you off sharply. “You would never let me go after the fucking Joker by myself. You never would have even if you wanted to teach me some lesson. And I don’t think that’s it either. You do the same shit I do.” Jason scoffs. “I went after him. By myself. I do what I always did. I went after him. Alone, And I died alone. Because I never fucking ask for help. That’s not on you. And it’s got nothing to fucking do with us.”

“Yeah, but if you were me?” You question. “You’d be thinking the same thing. There were so many signs and I just…somehow missed every single one of them. I have to think I ignored them and maybe not to teach you a lesson but because I was scared.”

Jason sucks in a breath and he knows you're right because if it were him, he’d never forgive himself. If the roles were reversed, he’d also be questioning how he missed it and maybe he let you do it. Maybe he ignored the signs on purpose. Jason, being on the side he is, knows for a fact you didn’t willfully ignore any sign. You have shown him time and time again that if you have any say in it, you’d never let something happen to him. But, Jason understands why you think that so he sucks in a breath and decides to take some of that Gar advice for once.

“I remember what I was thinking about while the Joker was playing whack-a-mole with my head.” Jason mutters, earning him a grimace and a glare from you.

“Really?” You give him a displeased look.

Jason shrugs. “Well…” Jason sucks in a breath with the quick raise of his brows.

“You do though?” You ask cautiously.

Jason nods. “Yeah, I…I remember everything.” Jason swallows the growing lump in his throat. “Told you that, but…yeah.” Jason nods quickly. “Remember thinking I should have just listened to you. I should have told you because you would have talked me out of it, you would have told Bruce and Dick. I’d be pissed…but you would have helped and I wouldn’t be getting killed. So…just fucking saying,” Jason sucks in a breath and goes back to your wound. “Me dying had nothing to fucking do with you and there was nothing you could have done differently. We weren’t a consequence our own self-destruction. I’m really fucking sorry for all of the shit I’ve put you through.”

Your brows furrow and your heart starts to break again. It must be a horrible task to wake up every single day with memories, even down to final thoughts, about literally dying. You know it’s your own personal hell at this point but the idea of Jason reliving it every single day…it’s worse. And the fact he brought it up without you asking, you know.

“I forgive you, Jay.” You say quietly. “And I really, really, mean that, okay? Your, uh…your last thoughts…were regret?” You ask cautiously.

Jason shakes his head. “No.” Jason answers plainly. “Not all of them.” Jason lets out a breath. The last thing Jason wants is to talk about how the last thing he remembers is knowing he was going to die. You don't need to know that, that's for damn sure.“I-I don’t want to talk about it though. I really just needed you to know that.”

“Thank you, Jay." You watch him carefully, seeing something distant and broken cloud over his eyes. His brows pull together as if he's in pain and his hand starts to shake. You hope he'll talk about it one day. Maybe being brought back isn't all it's cracked up to be. "When you do want to talk, please talk t me.”

“I will.” Jason nods his head at you once before finishing up the wound.

“Maybe we were both just ticking time bombs to get here.” You suck in a breath. “I don’t think we were a consequence and it was real for me. I just…had to ask I guess.”

“Maybe we kept each other from getting here.” Jason nearly mutters the words under his breath before he goes back to fixing up your wound.

You let the silence fill the room as you think about it because maybe he’s right. It wasn’t until he died the two of you fell off the deep end. Sure, things weren’t great for you both mentally but maybe you together helped stabilize some part of you both. Maybe being together was the glue you both needed like a kintsugi sculpture. Putting broken pieces back together to be better than they were before. You both ended up here but maybe that’s better.

In the last two weeks, the two of you have learned more about each other and life and the consequences of everything. Maybe that’s how it was supposed to be. So, you both could be better people today. Maybe you both rely too much on each other to help you mend your broken pieces but that doesn’t mean you were bad together or you were the cause of this. That doesn’t mean who you both are today is worse. Maybe who you both are today is better because it’s honest.

You both are scared but you both are honest and you aren’t letting your fears control every aspect of everything you do. You’re both standing up for yourselves in ways you didn’t think you would. Jason is figuring out his shit now and standing where he should. Where he wants. He’s standing up against people who made him feel worthless, something he otherwise never did too much. Maybe this is who you both are meant to be in the end and maybe that’s not so bad.

“Done.” Jason backs away as you look down, seeing your shoulder bandaged. “Don’t get shot again.” Jason manages the tint of a smirk.

“Gee, I wonder why I didn’t think of that.” You mock him before you sit up and slide the hoodie on entirely.

“Yeah, you really fucking should have. I mean, get it together, babe.” Jason offers a little bit of snark, the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“Okay, fuck you.” You laugh softly. “Thank you.”

Jason nods his head. “Anytime.” Jason smiles softly at you.

You pull out your phone from your other hoodie and hand it to Jason. "It died and in the chaos, I dropped my charging block." You offer a guilty smile as Jason takes your phone and plugs it into his charger. “So, uh, what’re you gonna do about Crane? Like….fuck.” You roll your eyes.

“Kill him.” Jason spits.

“No.” You shake your head. “I was serious. I wanna kill him.”

“Seriously?” Jason quips.

“Yes. I’m sick of people making you think you’re some fucking monster when you’re not. And he fucking sucks anyway. He did everything to you, he almost got Dick killed, he’s gotten innocent people killed, he almost killed me, and he killed or almost killed Tim. Yeah, I’d like to kill him.” You let out a sigh. “I mean, if you really want to kill him for what he did to you, go for it just let me get a shot in. If it’s for me? Let me do it.”

“It’s kind of fucked we’re even having this conversation right now.” Jason chuckles. “Fine. But, I get a few fucking shots in. I meant what I said, no one gets to fuck with you again.”

“And I meant what I said. No one gets to fuck with you, Jason Todd.” You offer him a sweet smile, something that should feel off given you're talking about killing someone but instead, it brings Jason some sort of comfort.

A smirk grows onto his lips before it turns soft. “Can handle myself.”

“Okay, no the fuck you cannot.” You quip back as you let out a soft laugh. “Just because you can though, doesn’t mean you have to do it alone. I got you.” You smile softly at him. "You and me."

Jason remembers a night a few months ago and he was sitting in the library reading because things were just a little too heavy and loud that day. You walked in and started scrapbooking on the floor just so Jason wouldn't be alone. And he remembers thinking how peaceful it was, just the two of you. He remembers thinking he felt lucky.

In a world where he experiences so much pain and unfairness, he felt lucky in that moment and in every moment he got to spend with you. As much as he loves to beat himself up, especially these days, he'd like to think maybe he can be lucky again. Maybe he can be at peace again one day. If you keep on thinking this and keep a hold on him. If you're willing to not let him do this alone, just as you said all those months ago in San Francisco, maybe you can get back to where you were and maybe you both can be lucky and at peace. Maybe the universe will offer some sort of kindness for the suffering it's caused you both.

“What about the Titans?” Jason asks, clearing his throat and swallowing his own thoughts.

“Right, yeah, I uh, I need to talk to Dick still. I told them it was Crane last night, not sure really if they believed me or not. Hope so. I’m sure Gar did so that’s at least good.” You nod your head a few times, hating the idea of having to explain this whole thing to Dick. You're kind of tired of being the mediator.

“We could just go take out Crane ourselves.” Jason suggests casually as he gets up and walks to the other side of the room where he has a mini fridge seated against the wall.

"While that does sound like fun," You laugh softly because you wish you could actually just do that. It would probably put an end to all of this but Dick would lose his shit. “I have an idea.”

“I hate when you say that.” Jason groans as he grabs two bottles of Gatorade and a box of granola bars from the top of the fridge before he walks back over to you. Jason tosses the box and one of the Gatorades at you before he plops down and scoots himself so his back rests against the wall, his legs extending in front of him. "Assumed you haven't eaten or had anything to drink." Jason explains, cracking open his Gatorade while you do the same.

"Yeah, I haven't thank you." You give him a soft smile before you start explaining yourself, grabbing a granola bar before you start your ramble. “Taking Crane out would be a fun time and he deserves it and most of our problems would likely be solved. However, what if Dick is right? What if he does have something bigger planned that we don’t know about? And then we kill him and like…maybe he poisons everyone somehow or blows up the city? I don’t know. We kind of need to know. And knowing his whereabouts would also be kind of helpful. So, what if you just….side with him still? Be the inside guy, right? And then Dick will really believe us that it wasn’t you who shot us and you won’t have to worry about Dick trying to turn you in, I wouldn’t let him but still.”

Jason pauses, holding the open bottle of Gatorade to his mouth. He's pretty sure you're suffering blood loss because that's insane. It's about as insane as you saying he should take the drug to not go through withdrawal. You're losing your sanity. "He already poisoned the water." Jason states.

"He did what now?" You blink at him.

"Your phone died, yeah. The water is poisoned with something he did so don't drink it. GCPD put out an alert this morning." Jason explains.

"Oh, that's fun. Well, still. It's Crane. You know he has something completely insane planned. Probably." You scoot closer to Jason, sitting on your knees right beside him.

“You want me to work with fucking Crane after he just tried to kill you? That’s fucking insane. Do you know that?” Jason questions with a groan. He wants nothing to do with Crane, even if he could get information from him.

“Yes.” You nod once.

“Fuck no.” Jason shakes his head in the same casual manner before snagging a granola bar.

“Jay, look, okay he thinks he can still manipulate you so let him think that and find out what he’s up to.”

“He won’t tell me shit.” Jason shakes his head in annoyance as he unwraps the granola bar.

“Maybe he will now. If he just tried to kill me and you go back to him anyway, right? Say I turned on you or whatever. That I think it was a setup against me so you wouldn’t have to be the one to pull that trigger. If he knows you’ll turn on me, maybe he’ll finally trust you enough to tell you what’s going on. You’re a pretty good liar sometimes.” You urge him and you know this is an insane idea but it's what you have. The Titans will never figure out Crane's plan without some inside help. They need it.

“You said I was shit liar.” Jason argues, pointing the granola bar at you.

“Well, to me.” You chuckle softly. “I always know when you’re lying but I think you can lie pretty well when you actually need to. I mean, no one figured out you were Robin. And I think that was obvious. I met you and all I thought was that it made sense.”

“This is fucking stupid.” Jason nods his head casually.

“Yeah, well, this whole thing has been fucking stupid. You go back to Crane, work with him and I’ll stay with the Titans. You call the burner when you find shit out and I loop Dick in. You don’t have to physically be home to work with us. You find out, the Titans bring in Crane and shut down whatever shit he’s got going on, then we kill him and you go home.” You explain simply and Jason hates just how convincing you can be.

You make a good point. Jason knows he can lie his ass off, he just wanted to argue. He's worried though because Crane has a way of knowing Jason is lying. It's how he found out about you from the beginning of it all. Jason couldn't just lie because Crane would know. It wasn't exactly a life-or-death situation then though. Maybe Jason wasn't trying all that hard to get away with lying then anyway. Crane admitting his plan would be helpful and Crane thinking you turned on Jason would give Jason enough motive to give up on the Titans entirely. It's not a horrible plan but Jason isn't happy about it.

“Alright fucking fine but this is shit and you know that.” Jason lets out a groan.

“I know.” You smile. “But, it’ll be worth it when his prodigie betrays him in the end.” You scrunch your nose, smiling with pride and Jason can see the light come back to your eyes. He thinks you're gonna be okay.

“You know, kinda hot when you got a plan all ready to go.” Jason offers you a cheeky smirk, his eyes raking over you before coming back to your face.

“I do have my moments.” You grin wickedly at him. “Kind of hot when you actually do what I say.”

“Alright, fuck you. Don't get used to it, babe.” Jason chuckles, shaking his head as the white streak flops onto his forehead. “When we doing this?”

“You could head out now, meet up with Crane and I’ll head back to the manor.” You suggest before taking a bite of your granola bar.

“Alright, just, uh, be careful, please. Let me know if shit happens with the Titans. I don’t want them attacking you for this shit.”

“I got it. I’ve been dealing with them the whole time. Don’t worry, Jay.” You smile softly a him as Jason gets to his feet and stands in front of you.

There's something dark in his eyes this time. He's standing over you as if he doesn't really want to leave. His brows are pinching together in the way they always do when he's worried and his jaw is squaring. He's putting all of the pressure onto his good leg, something you still notice immediately. But, he stands as if he's an unmovable force anyway and the smirk drops from his face.

“I’m serious, alright? Be careful.” Jason sucks in a breath and you've never seen him this kind of protective over you before.

“I will, promise.” You offer him a soft nod before Jason reluctantly heads out.

Jason is still hesitant, keeping his stance in front of you and it feels wrong. It always feels wrong to just leave. But, it's not his place to offer something else in place of him leaving anymore. And he also knows the second he walks back to Crane, that'll probably the last time you see each other until it's resolved. You're going to have to go to the Titans and Dick will likely be watching you closely, to make sure you don't get yourself killed or flip sides again. A lot can happen in a day or a few days and you were just almost killed. It scares the ever-living shit out of him, the very thought of losing you the way you lost him. He hates that he's leaving again. It's what he has to do and he knows that but knowing what he has to do to end this, doesn't make the decision any easier.

Jason leans down, placing his hand on your cheek before he rests his forehead against yours. Your eyes fall closed, a soft and subtle smile coming to your lips.

"Don't do anything fucking stupid and for once, listen to Dick and Gar, alright?" Jason asks, pulling just enough to see your face.

Your brows pull together. "You want me to listen to Dick?"

Jason is still mad at him and maybe Dick wants him dead still. That's always a possibility but something Jason knows, now that he's thinking with a clear head is that Dick does try to protect the Titans. They're his family and he's the leader. And Gar is one of your best friends. The two of them won't let anything happen to you if they can stop it. He knows you taking off had nothing to do with Gar and after last night, Jason thinks Gar would try to actually stop you if it happens again.

Jason's jaw squares, reluctant to say it again. "I'm serious. You got fucking shot." Jason quips.

"Okay." You agree softly, knowing if Jason is asking you to listen to anyone, you should probably take the advice. It always means Jason is very worried and serious. Two things that are a bit unsettling. "I will, promise." You smile softly before pressing your forehead to his for a second. "Now, go, okay? I'll be fine."

Jason nods his head, pulling away and dropping his hand. "I'll call when I find something out." Jason offers one last nod before he turns and darts out of the room.

Jason heads out to an old mechanic shop to meet up with Crane and for the life of him, he has no idea why he's even agreed to this. The only thing he wants to do right about now is kill Crane. He wants to fight him and shoot him and cause him horrendous pain for what he's put you through. He could have killed you and Jason swore no one would ever get away with it. But, now he has to walk in here and pretend he's not pissed about it. He's a good liar, but he doesn't know if he'll actually be able to withhold his blooming hatred.

When Jason meets with Crane, Crane seems to be acting perfectly normal, seemingly believing Jason will always be on his side no matter what. It's something Jason finds to be interesting because he already knew Crane was arrogant. But, he didn't think he was arrogant enough to think Jason would just be perfectly fine with him after being drugged, tricked, lied to, and used. He just shot Tim, possibly ruining his chances of actually going home. He could have killed you. Jason already threatened Crane but Crane seems perfectly fine with everything and Jason's wondering if that's because he agreed to meet.

"You could have fucking killed her." Jason starts with gritted teeth as they walk into the car garage.

"Yeah...sorry about that." Crane says casually. "She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Sometimes, there are necessary casualties."

Crane is confident in his ability to manipulate Jason. Crane didn't have a single thing on the kid and Jason still spilled everything about Batman and the Titans. It was easy. It might become more difficult right now, but Crane is confident they'll overcome the current hurdle. After all, for the time being, Crane does still need Jason for his own disposal.

Jason wants to explode right here and take Crane out with him. A necessary causality? That's how you and Tim are being referred to? There is no such thing as a necessary causality when it comes to innocent people. Innocent people don't have to die. They don't have to be hurt. It was a choice Crane made in order to get you out of the way. To show Jason Crane is the one still running the show. And Jason has to stand here and pretend like this is all fine and lie. He's ready for this whole thing to be done and over with.

"You were right anyway." Jason sucks up his pride and do as you tell him. For that alone, Jason should get to kill him after this. "She was going to turn me in. It was all a setup, that's why she was even there."

Crane seems to perk up with Jason's words and he's hoping Crane believes him. "I did tell you she couldn't be trusted. That must be so hard to handle right now. But, see, now you know who has your back." Crane offers an eery smile. "Do I need to finish the job now?" Crane asks bluntly and he is definitely asking to gauge Jason's reaction. He doesn't miss the way Jason's hands turn into fists at his sides with his knuckles turning white.

"No." Jason states. "I'll do it." He states simply, releasing his hands.

"Good. Then you'll have nothing to worry about." Crane pats Jason's shoulder and Jason is ready to change the subject. He hopes that'll be enough bait for now.

"What the fuck is this?" Jason asks, switching the conversation as he looks around.

"This is where the victors go to rest their weary heads." Crane says.

"We didn't win." Jason argues. "They were gonna take me back but you fucked it all up." Sure, Crane did manage to poison the water but from where Jason is standing, it doesn't seem like too many people have been affected and with the alert going out, less people will likely drink the water. They didn't win anything.

"So you had a moment." Crane states simply, completely unbothered. "I've had plenty of them myself. Let bygones by bygones. I forgive you." Crane says before he pulls the cover off a yellow sports car. He lets out a sigh, as if to be pleased by the vehicle. "Sprezzatara."

Jason just rolls his eyes before he leans against the car, resting his back against the A frame. He's annoyed and he wants to get out of here. The hell if Crane forgiving him for? As far as Jason is concerned, he thinks getting him drugged was payback enough for him dealing the drug out behind his back. And Crane seems to be growing a little annoyed with him, too as he lets out a sigh before closing the garage door using the button hanging from a cable.

"Show some respect." Crane says sternly. "Sit." Crane depends, lightly gesturing towards a chair in front of a desk with a computer.

Jason does as told, sitting down and slouching in his seat.

"You know who Edward Bernays is?" Crane asks.

"The sauce guy?" Jason questions.

"Eggs and bacon." Crane says, taking a seat beside Jason. "Classic American breakfast. Do you know why?"

"What's this have to do with--"

"Pork farmers paid Edward Bernays to make it so. See, but Edward Bernays, he had this...this uncle, right? Dear old Uncle Sigmund. As in Sigmund Freud. See, and Freud taught Edward Bernays how the human mind worked. And Edward, he worked the human mind. He didn't sell the proletariat bacon. He sold them the idea that a hearty breakfast was what every doctor thought was best for them. After that, the bacon, it sold itself. Edward Bernays understood that an idea is the most powerful weapon we have." Crane explains before he swivels in his chair to face the computer, Jason eying him carefully and he's getting a really bad feeling about all of this. "It's not the product, it's how you sell it." Crane says as he brings up footage of Nightwing fighting some bad guys and Crane is in some type of editing software. "And Gotham is in need of a new product. We now interrupt your regularly scheduled program to bring you a message for the good people of Gotham.

Jason leans forward as the video starts to play, Crane already having sent it out as alert to every person in Gotham City.

Oh no.

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Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover // @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @urmomsgayforme5 // @killxz // @lovefks

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #titans fanfic #titans fanfiction #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #petrichor

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rudysrings · 2 years ago

Text

Neteyam x fem!Omaticaya!reader

Blurb: Neteyam is aged up, maybe 20-22, reader the same age. Neteyam and the reader have always been close, with an unspoken relationship and expectation that they will be mates when the time comes. When it does, however, things don't quite go as planned.

Warnings: Angst lol

At first, you paid no mind. It’s not that it didn’t matter to you, but you were secure in yourself and who you knew you were to Neteyam to be bothered by the rushed questions, the eager “Has he asked you yet?”s and the “How will he do it?”s. You only smiled coyly and shrugged, and if they pushed, you merely said you had work to do. As your people’s youngest, most prominent healer (aside from Tsahik Mo’at) during wartime, there truly always were wounds to be tended to and medicinal herbs to be prepared.

You considered what you and the soon to be Olo’eyktan of the Omaticaya had to be sacred. It was unspoken, heavy, tangible, but also easy, grounding and reliable, which is what made it all the more significant for the two of you. Speaking it into existence, especially to those outside the bubble the pair of you had fortified over your entire lives, almost felt to cheapen the entire thing. You knew. He knew. There was not a single doubt. Until there was.

Soon, the questions took a crueler turn; in fact, they didn’t even stay direct questions, but became rumored whispers. “If he has not asked her yet, then he must seek someone else. Who has he chosen?” And honest to Eywa, the first few times this got around to you, you only chuckled. People would talk. It was only natural. They were anxious to see what their future clan leader would do, and you knew it had nothing to do with you, or what lay in the future for you and Neteyam. You had no doubt he would ask soon, after all, his own mother had instructed him to make his bow from the wood of the fallen hometree and choose a woman many eclipses ago. Until you did.

It didn’t happen overnight. But you didn’t notice until one night. When the oldest Sully boy came back from a hunt, he only ever came to your healing tent or to Tsahik Mo’ats. This night, however, for the first time in you couldn’t remember how long, he entered the tent of a healer you could not even recall the name of. And all of a sudden, you realized you hadn’t put those beads in his hair, and they didn’t look like the ones the Neytiri would make either. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to ride your ikrans to the one mountain the two of you frequented. Come to think of it, he hadn’t spoken to you since he had made his bow.

He wasn’t yours.

“What is it, my girl?” It wasn’t until Neytiri put a hand on your shoulder that you realized hot tears had made tracks across your humiliated face. As much as she represented a maternal figure to you and many other in your tribe, you couldn’t bear to speak your realization to the mother of your problem. Eyes glazed, you try to will them away and muttered some excuse of a tear inducing herb irritating your eyes and turned, making your way back into your tent.

Anger.

The next few days, your sorrow quickly turned into anger. How could things change for him just like that? And even if they did? Not a single word to you? That was the first time you regretted never putting a label on things between the two of you, even if it reduced the intimacy of what you had into a teenage relationship, at least he would have the responsibility of owing you an explanation before basically writing you out of his life. Even without all that, you couldn’t fathom the thought that he would simply not consider you worthy of a measly explanation. Clearly you did not know him as the person he actually was.

And that’s what broke your heart further. The final wound—that the Neteyam you knew and was oh so, inexplicably dear to you…wasn’t true, didn’t exist, must have been a fantasy.

Your friends worried. You were withdrawn, quietly and consistently turning over the events of your lives and figuring out when you had wrongly created this dream of the two of you making a life together, and when he decided to stop entertaining it. You always came up with nothing. For the life of you, you could not taint the memories you had made. Even if they really were rose-colored glasses, you couldn’t bring yourself to see him any other way.

You ached all the time. Mentally, even physically. You slept way later into the morning, but also had trouble falling asleep to begin with. It almost felt like along with your heart, every joint in your body broke, and you didn’t know if it would ever get better, despite your best friends constant insistence that this too would pass.

One day, Tsahik Mo’at instructed you to venture further than usual for certain herbs to keep from depleting the supply in your area. Woven satchel in hand, you made your way out, grateful for the alone time in a new area to stimulate your mind to keep from your constant straying thoughts.

You found a clove of what you were looking for, collecting them as you walked, not even looking up past the soil you walked on anymore you were so focused.

“You’re not supposed to come this far.”

You nearly shrieked, almost jumping out of your skin. You turned to see the very object of all of the thoughts you had been avoiding stood leaning against some sort of man-made bunker overgrown with greenery. Neteyam had spoken of this. Of the place that had sheltered his father’s human body while his Avatar roamed free. You knew it’s significance and you knew he had no business here either. “Neither are you, last time I checked,” you narrowed your eyes, your guard up.

Neteyam chuckled, brushing it off. There was a moment of silence where you both just took each other in. You had avoided him with such determination that you had almost forgot what he looked like and the effect it had on you.

“Spirits, you are still perfect,” he said, breathless, but still audible to you.

You scoffed, “What makes you think you can say that?” Your hands shook and your body vibrated with fury and defensiveness.

Neteyam’s eyebrows furrowed and he straightened, walking towards you.

You immediately put a hand out, “No, don’t come any closer.” And because you just couldn’t help it, you spat out, “You can’t just come and go as you please, even if you are the future eyktan.”

He paused, searching for something in your eyes, and gradually came to some sort of realization. “You think I wanted this?”

“Didn’t you?” you challenged.

“No,” he shook his head, coming closer again, grabbing onto your outstretched hand with both of his and stepping into it, head bowed so that your hand made contact with his bare chest, his eyes on you, your own eyes looking at your entwined hands. “I did not want this.” When you refused to look at him, still, you watched as he descended to his knees, you still barely taller than him.

You met his eyes; you saw them filled with emotion. “If you asked what I truly want, y/n, it is an entire lifetime with you. You must know this.”

Your breath came faster, confusion clouding your vision. “What are you saying?”

“You are what I most desire, y/n. Only you.”

Your entire body relaxed, and you sunk to the forest floor, knees together. You whimpered, “Then why, ‘Teyam?”

Neteyam nearly purred at the nickname, bringing his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, “Because I also have a duty to fulfill. And you would be the mightiest Tsahik the people would ever see, know that I truly believe that.”

You exhaled, your palms instinctively reaching for his chest, right over his racing heart. The feel and familiar rhythm grounding you like nothing else.

“But I am also selfish. And I know what the pain and danger that mating with me brings. Not only would you be a target because of your status as Tsahik, but also because of my father. Our family will never escape the danger of the Skypeople, and I refuse to put you in that position. If…If something happened to you, y/n, Eywa, I have imagined it a thousand times over…” unashamed, a tear fell down his face. “It would end me, my love. I cannot know that loss..I cannot, I cannot,” he looked down, whispering it over and over again.

Your chest ached at seeing him so torn, but you knew you had to stand your ground. He had to realize the effect this had on you. You held his face in your hands, quieting him. “Ma Neteyam, I have felt this loss a thousand times worse,” he immediately flinched, looking up at your sorrowful face.

“I had believed all my life that Eywa made you for me and I for you,” at that he offered a small smile. “And when the time came, you rejected me. Whether your intentions were pure or not, for many eclipses now, I have lived in a world where the very person I was born for did not want me. And that loss, you must understand, is far worse than Eywa taking us away from each other, because there is no reason to be woven into it. It is only loss.”

Neteyam took in your words, hands on your knees. Ashamed, he turned away, “I have hurt you so much,” he closed his eyes, dipping his forehead to your shoulder, whispering, “Can you ever forgive me, beloved?”

His pet names were slowly coaxing the old you from the empty, defensive shell you had become, this last one nearly melting you into his arms.

You kissed your teeth, resigning. This was not your war. You wanted this, and you would not punish him more than he deserved. You inched closer, giving him time to lean back as you straddled him, his hands immediately going to your hips, that beautiful face looking at you in confusion and utter nervousness, as if you held the weight of his life in your next words.

You tilted forwards, your lips slanting over his. “I see you, Neteyam. It is already forgotten.”

His breath hitched, but you didn’t give him a chance to respond, because you moved your lips against his. Your first kiss. Not at all how you expected, tasting of the salt of your combined tears, but still as perfect and unreal as you dreamed. His eyes fluttered closed as he moved a hand to your jaw, guiding you into a deeper kiss. You grew hungrier, your toes curling at the sensation. All you could process was the feel of his fingers digging into your waist, holding you as if he was afraid to let go, every inch of your front pressed against his so that you felt his heartbeat through all of your skin. You hoped he felt yours, too.

He stopped you for a second, you chasing his retreating mouth, drawing a grin from him as he licked his swollen lips, both of you panting. He just looked at you, head cocked, smile soft.

“What?” you asked, nuzzling his nose. “Nothing,” he shook his head. “Everything.” His smile fell as his gaze became serious, with an intensity you had never seen before. He held your jaw, gentle but rigid, “I see you, Ma y/n.”

You couldn’t have predicted the effect those words would have on you. They fell off his tongue with such ease, but you quite literally purred. Your arms encircled his neck and you simply embraced him, cherishing the feel of your skin on his and letting the warmth flow between you. “I pray to Eywa I will always feel as content as I do right now.” You leaned back to meet his eyes, “I cannot wait for the day we make it official, ‘Teyam.”

His eyes darkened with desire, “Neither can I, my love.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x oc #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar twow #avatar

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j2zara · 4 months ago

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*tapping on your window* Hi I’m sitting in my car exhausted and about to drive home but I just wanted to let you know Ellie is. In my thoughts. This is a threat. And by that I mean. I am thinking so much about her and what it means to desperately want freedom and fear that if you get it you won’t know what to do next. The goal has been to fight until you die and you didn’t realize it until you got the chance to Live. It’s not that I don’t think she can’t be gentle bc she can be. She does her best to take care of Bluejay she’s kind to J3. It’s that I think when she’s. On her Own. And there’s no one to look after except for herself. And she’s forced to look inwards. She’s terrified there’s nothing there except the parts she desperately fights against becoming. Did she ever actually train her kindness for herself or does it always have to be given to someone else. Did she accidentally train herself for a purpose after all.

Anyways yeah so she’s in my thoughts and will be during my drive home that’s all hope you’re having a good night 💖

HIIII sorry it took me a sec to form coherent sentences and not to lump this in with your tags on my "Ellie was so afraid of becoming Jace she forgot to account for becoming ankarna" post but i also know (think?) that this was sent like RIGHT after that lol.

You've kinda articulated something i didn't really think about which is such a good point in that like. I think despite trying to push for personal autonomy and choice, ellie has sharpened herself into becoming very.... specific, due to her circumstances. She wants the freedom to be small and unextraordinary and messy but she can't afford that, i think she still has to be a tool of war in order to fight at all. idk if that makes any sense. She can't back out of her path—robbed of choice when choice is all she wanted, right? She needs power in order to get anything done and she doesn't particularly want it but it feels good when you have it right? At the very least when you have it nobody else can make you feel small. Maybe that's the Ankarna impulse. To learn about war to save yourself from doom even if it contorts you into something ugly and alienated from who you used to be.

But. What even are Ellie's impulses when the fight is gone. Who is she underneath that. Like. Yeah you're right in that its like the goal is survival for so long that its like who is she when she gets a chance to just LIVE? If you define yourself against something, is that really free will, is that really freedom from the determined path? Is it freedom to be an antithesis to a thesis when you're still defined in opposition to the thesis? Is it fair to have an identity defined by hardship and struggle and opposition, would that make happiness something unfamiliar, not yours? Is it fair to anyone that if you were to get better that would make you stop being you? Like. Something something gilear—there was something about the failure i could take in stride because within it i had some sense of identity or self. Except not a bit. You know what I mean? Or is it all change. Is it unfair even on my part that she had to be defined by like. Misery and the will to fight.

(And i think i do that b/c i like that she's unpalatable, i'm always so so so resistant to impulses to characterize her as secretly soft and maternal and nurturing. But is that fair to keep her all hard edges because maybe she deserves better)

She deserves. so much. She deserves a shitty, unfurnished apartment with a small portable fan and a mattress that's still the floor b/c she still hasn't gotten a bedframe. Maybe a lawn chair and an old tv. She has to start somewhere.

I don't know where the thought of the Ankarna-Ellie stuff came from—i think from working on LJ3Porter, i felt like. I think the reason why Ellie tries to put on a show about caring about other people is b/c she's scared that her real impulses are actually selfish. Power-hungry. Afraid that her objections are not because they've all been wronged, but that she's personally been denied something. That she's not just porter-coded, but she wants to transcend porter. Be even more powerful and frightening than him. Be the thing that He covets (even if he never really saw Ankarna). Jace wants to be at Porters side as equals, J2 wants to be beneath them, and J4 wants to be above even Porter. And. She does care about others its not just an act! But I think she's just. A lot like fig. But Fig's preoccupation is about being afraid of being so so so ontologically evil b/c she's infernal. But yeah. Dedicating themselves to others b/c they're afraid of interrogating themselves, asking themselves who they really are underneath it all.

#jan.ask #clone enjoyers anonymous

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centralperkchenford · 1 year ago

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Chenford + Ashley wants to get back with Tim and Lucy is jealous

I made Ashley not.. nice in this but 🤷🏼‍♀️ also combined this with a request on AO3 on my jealous Tim story.

Chenford + Ashley wants to get back with Tim and Lucy is jealous

Haha I love it! Can you do one except it’s Tim being asked out and lucy jealous? lol

Yeah, a better man is who I am with you Who I am with you

Tim is in his office when there’s a knock on the door and then it opens before he can say anything. He looks up to see Ashley stepping into his office, wearing her usual getup. He raises his eyebrows at her and leans back in his seat but doesn’t say anything.

“They said I would find you in here.” She says looking around the office. “Since when does a patrol officer get his own office?”

Tim sighs and runs his hand through his hair wondering why she was here. “Well I’m not on patrol anymore.” He says. “I’m a metro sergeant and the office just came with it.” He says.

“Oh.” Says Ashley. She steps further into the office and comes to stand in front of the desk. “Are you in less danger now that you are in metro?”

Tim snorts and shakes his head. If anything he was in more danger. “No.” He says honestly. “Why are you here Ashley?”

Ashley chews on her bottom lip and bats her eyes at him. “I’m going to be honest. I hate how I ended things with you. It wasn’t fair and I want to give us another chance.” She says. “Do you want to go get food after your shift?”

Tim stares utterly befuddled. “Actually Ashley I—” He starts but then someone else is coming into his office. Lucy.

He smiles wide when he sees her, his eyes going from Ashley’s face to hers. “Hey Tim are you—” She stops when she sees Ashley, her smile falling a little bit.

“Oh hi Ashley.” She says offering the other woman a week smile. “How are you?” Ashley doesn’t return the smile, she just scans her up and down.

“We are having a private conversation here Lucy.” She says. “Please leave.” Lucy turns to Tim a questioning look on her face.

“Ashley—” He starts but Ashley cuts him off turning so she is blocking Lucy from his view.

“I thought we could you know work everything out over dinner and then go back to my place and..” She trails off smiling and batting her eyebrows again.

Lucy makes a sound behind her and Ashley turns to her angrily. “You are still here?” She snaps. “I told you to leave!”

“This isn’t your office.” Says Lucy turning her eyes on Tim and he can see the hurt in her eyes and the uncertainty and he hates it.

Ashley turns back to Tim once again blocking his view of Lucy. “Tell her to leave Tim. I want to talk to you alone.” Ashley says her voice getting a higher pitch to it.

Tim shakes his head and steps out from behind his desk so he can see Lucy, the only woman in this room that he will ever want. “Look Ashley I’m not interested into getting back together with you.” He says. “We weren’t right for each other and you breaking up with me was actually good. It made me realize that we weren’t going anywhere.”

Ashley frowns and steps in front of Lucy again moving closer to him. “But you are single! Just give me another chance. We can work Tim. Remember we are magic together?” She pouts. Lucy makes another noise and Ashley is turning on her again. Tim can see a glimpse of Lucy’s face and he knows it’s a mix of hurt and jealousy.

“Tim! Tell her to leave. You are nothing but his pathetic little aide.” She says her chest heaving. “Tim and I are trying to get back together!”

Lucy laughs a little but it’s not her normal laugh. “He literally just said he’s not interested in getting back together with you.” She says drily. “Maybe if you would let him talk he would tell you he has a girlfriend.”

Ashley turns back around. “You do?” She asks. “Since when?”

Tim runs his hand through his hair again and steps around his ex girlfriend to Lucy. “I do have a girlfriend.” He confirms. “And I don’t want to get back together with you. Now please leave.”

Ashley’s eyes were wide and she was looking between Tim and Lucy, and Tim the exact moment the realization hits her.

“Wow.” Says Ashley and she laughs a little. “This won’t last. I will see you in a couple weeks Tim when you want to be with someone who can give you want you want.” She pushes past them hitting Lucy a little as she goes.

“It’s really pathetic you stole my boyfriend. I will get him back.” She says but her voice falters.

Tim steps in front of Lucy and glares at Ashley, he has had about enough of her insulting his girlfriend. “No. You won’t. You broke up with me. So Lucy didn’t steal anything.” He says. She stares at him and then at Lucy.

“You were always jealous that I had him huh?” Ashley says nastily.

Lucy shakes her head and steps forward. “Maybe a little.” She admits. “But you made the choice to breakup with him. And now I’m with him. Get over yourself.” Ashley makes a noise and then stomps from the room.

Tim turns to Lucy the minute she’s gone and then goes to shut the door. He turns back to his girlfriend who is just staring ahead not looking at him. “Luce.” He says quietly. “I had no idea she was coming by.”

She turns her eyes up to him and he hates that there are tears in it. He immediately goes and wraps her in a hug and kisses her on the top of the head. “Lucy, I’m not going to leave you for her. She’s just mad that I moved on.” He says and Lucy looks up from where her face was buried in his shirt but doesn’t say anything so Tim continues tucking some hair behind her ear, determined to show her how much he wants her and no one else. That she is his forever, that she makes him a better man every single day that he’s with her. He only wants her.

“You are the only woman I want Lucy.” He says. “Every single day I thank my lucky stars that you took a leap with me. And that’s not going to change.”

“Really?” Lucy asks. “Your tall, blonde and beautiful ex wants to give you guys another chance and—”

“I will say no. Again and again because I have an beautiful and sweet girlfriend.” He says.

Lucy smiles at him and he can see it’s getting back to her normal smile. “Alright.” She says. “You are amazing you know that?”

“Been told once or twice.” He says grinning at her and she stands on her toes to kiss him.

“I will admit I was a little jealous. She just showed up out of the blue.” Lucy says her eyes darting down again.

Tim tilts her head back to him so she’s looking at him. “There is nothing to be jealous of Luce. She broke up with me.”

“I know.” Lucy says. “Next time I won’t be so nice.”

Tim let’s out a chuckle. “That’s my girl.”

#chenford #the rookie #tim bradford #tim x lucy #lucy chen #chenford fanfic #chenford fic #anon answered

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decaffedthoughts · 1 year ago

Text

Firsts and Flowers

pairing: non idol sana x gender neutral reader

word count: 4.6k

fluff and a touch of angst

summary: scenes from yours and sana’s relationship firsts, accompanied by the bouquets you bring to each, from introduction to anniversaries and beyond.

a/n: guess who’s back! i do have specific photos for what sana is wearing for every single scene lol, ask me if you’re interested. low/no plot, just me fawning because i am down horrid for sana. this is for clownracha’s may prompt, flower language

First date

Bouquet: white roses, calla lily, hibiscus

Her number had come through a mutual friend, Bang Chan. A former coworker of yours and a current coworker of hers. You'd heard her name a few times through him but not much else. Chan knew practically everyone in the damn country, or at least seemed to at times, so you trusted that he could tell who was similar and who would work well together, at least as well as one human could.

So, you sent a small "hello" to the provided number that night.

Hello

Is this Sana? Chan gave me your number

Sana speaking

And who might you be

The first tricky part of meeting someone was completed. Now it was just the other hard part of staying in touch. It was a Friday, so both of you were relatively free to text late into the night, not needing to worry about your semi-soul-crushing schedule ruining the night. At some point, you realized you'd never seen her face and decided to shoot your shot for a selfie. You told her to choose whatever she pleased, hoping it's not too glamourized to make you unintentionally feel wrong in your chip-dusted sweatpants.

In the end, nothing could have prepared you. Sana was clearly in lounge clothes, she might have even taken it right before sending it to you, but she was still the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. Maybe it was because she was not some high-held celebrity that hardly seemed human, but something about her still felt otherworldly.

Your sleepiness allowed much of that sentiment to flow through your texts, which you could worry about later. For now, it was simply wondering how Chan could have set you up like that without warning. You'd be sure to get him back for that somehow. Your attention diverted from revenge plans back to Sana when she sent a simple question mark, and you realized that the effusive praise was simply a draft.

Sorry you broke my brain by being wildly gorgeous

Did you take that just now?

Mhm

Decided you were special enough to get a never before seen picture

Chan likes everyone, but he doesn't keep everyone around

It's almost annoying how many friends he has

I can barely have a public conversation with him, I swear

It was easy like that for weeks. One text every few hours, or on lucky days a spree of a few hours with just a minute or two between responses. It progressed to something other than simply friendship feelings for you. Could you continue to be friends if that invitation was rejected or didn't work out? Sure, but you wanted to try, and I hope that Sana feels that same feeling too.

Hey

Do you want to get dinner with me next week?

Are you asking me on a date? Spicy

Give me the details

You did, and she agreed. It felt unreal. Maybe she didn't have the same feelings yet, or maybe she did, but it seemed she was at least open to them. Next week was far enough away that it gave you enough time to adequately plan everything, but now the same date was too far away, and each minute of waiting seemed to drag on.

As time does, it passed, and the day arrived in front of you. Sana's apartment was closer to the restaurant, so you agreed to meet there and walk over. You ended up very early due to sheer nervousness and saw a flower shop not far away. Not wanting to show up that early, you headed over but only planned to look.

Almost immediately, many of the flowers caught your eye, and you rethought that "just looking" idea. Deciding that the cashier would likely know more than you do, you headed up to them.

"Hey, any good recommendations for a first date? Kinda impromptu, so I don't have much time." You explained to them, Dongmin, according to the name tag.

They nodded and took you around the shop, picking up a few flowers and explaining their meanings. You checked the time and had a few extra minutes, especially if you walked quickly. On the way out, you thanked Dongmin, and they wished you good luck on the date. You smiled, fresh white bouquet in hand. Maybe you could come back if all went well.

Steadying your shaking hand and knocking on the door correctly took you a moment. Before properly taking in Sana, you shoved the bouquet toward her. You knew you might end up stunned by her, so you took a moment before it happened. When you finally got the courage to open your eyes, you were more right than you knew.

Her hair was now a soft purple, tied up by a large black bow. She wore a shoulderless black sweater under her blue-gray dress, and, as predicted, you just couldn't stop staring. Silently, which may have made her a little nervous or uneasy, admittedly, but what words could you use to describe the practical angel in front of you? And she wanted to go on a date with you? She took the bouquet with gratitude and a smile, bidding you wait a moment while she put it in a vase. There wasn't much else for you to do or anywhere to go, so you inspected what you could see of her apartment from the doorway. When she returned, she held out the flowers in a large jar, notably not a vase.

She laughed sheepishly as you stared, "People don't really give me flowers, so I didn't plan for this. More about the flowers than the container, right?"

You didn't have an answer, so you just nodded because they looked perfectly fine in the jar. You were more surprised that people didn't give her flowers often. If you had to guess, you would have said she had a long line of suitors waiting to give her gifts. Maybe she did, and they just weren't partial to flowers. It was the only thing that made sense; Sana was too beautiful not to give gifts to.

You walked down the street together, unpopulated since it hadn't warmed up too much. Despite having only text conversations to that point, your conversation flowed well, and the silences were short but comfortable. Each of you had various ideas and stories to share. Walking down the street also provided plenty of distractions for you both, mainly in the form of cute animals needing the time to be outside.

It passed in what feels like no time at all. And the meal went just as fast. The food was acceptable, but you knew that wouldn't be what you remembered regardless. Instead, you noted how Sana's face lit up when she laughed or how shyly she reacted when you complimented her, among other things. Surprisingly, she retaliated on the compliments quickly, smirking when you responded.

Honestly, you didn't see the sun setting in the window, nor the number of people that entered and exited as you sat there talking. As expected, a waiter came over eventually, asking if you wanted to pay. You almost didn't notice them in the middle of a story of one of your coworkers nearly destroying the microwave.

For a few minutes, you gathered up everything and left, but the moment you were back outside, you began to laugh together again. That seemed to be the theme of that first date, and there was no reason you could find to complain about it. It was significantly darker that time, which removed your visibility of Sana's face, but it made it easier to step closer and feel the backs of your hands brushing as you walked. You didn't know who finally made the move to intertwine your fingers, but neither stopped to comment, simply enjoying the moment and letting it breathe. Her hand was soft, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to be able to hold it as often as you wanted in the future.

You arrived at her doorway faster than you had expected and far quicker than you wanted to. After a few minutes of awkward and stuttered goodbyes, Sana took a step forward and briefly hesitated before pressing a kiss on your cheek. When she stepped back, she opened her mouth to say something, but you felt a small and uncontrollable smile spread across your lips. She must have seen it because she closed her mouth and gave you a small smile. Each of you whispered a final goodbye before you turned and headed back down the hallway.

First makeup

Bouquet: chamomile, zinnia, lotus flower

It wasn't a fight about something stupid; you had learned better than to minimize your own feelings by now, but it was something that didn't need to be a fight at all. One or maybe a few conversations, and you could have worked it out together. Instead, you held it in because of a misguided vision of being a "good" and "unproblematic" partner, especially this early in your relationship. Eventually, as should be expected, you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You felt that Sana didn't set aside enough time to text you or text you back during the day, and she was equally unavailable on some nights. On the weekends, she was much more active in calling or texting you. But other times, she could be virtually unreachable for hours.

You could hardly remember what had set you off just a few minutes later. The more you walked and thought, the more embarrassed you became. Here you were, with an adult job and living independently, yet you still didn't communicate properly with your girlfriend.

Without really realizing it, you had walked the reverse path you usually did. That time from Sana's door to the flower shop you often visited. You walked in, unsure if you wanted to buy anything, but simply being around nature was calming.

Ultimately, you decided it couldn't hurt to show up at her apartment with a bouquet. Along with a heartfelt apology and readiness to communicate, pretty flowers always help. So you asked the cashier if there was a common "after a fight" bouquet or flower they might recommend.

It took a few minutes of searching, in which you stewed in your thoughts even more, but they did come back. The chamomile and the lotus were instantly recognizable, even to you. And the other one was a white zinnia. Or was it a zinnia? You couldn’t remember, but it was a pretty flower and fit perfectly with the calm white theme.

You distracted yourself on the way back by constantly fiddling with the flower petals and placements, not wanting to think about what you'd do in a few minutes. What would you do if Sana turned you away or didn't open the door? You'd have to leave the flowers, text her that they're there, and hope she reads them rather than just swiping them away. You wouldn't blame her if she did, but you'd continue hoping for the best.

You knocked hesitantly and waited, scuffing your foot along the floor. Mercifully, she opened the door, but her face fell slightly when she properly saw you.

"You're not my kimchi jjigae." She said simply.

You winced. Kimchi jjigae was a spicy comfort food for her, so it must have hurt her more than you thought.

"I'm not. I hope you'll let me apologize anyways. I'm sorry for not talking about any of my problems before they exploded. I didn't want to cause any problems so early into our relationship, and I wasn't sure what you would think if I did. Clearly, this was worse, and now I seem immature as well. It doesn't have to be right now, but I hope you can forgive me."

You chewed and pulled at your bottom lip as you waited for her to answer, and her face was impressively smooth and impassive.

"I'll need more time to move on, but I forgive you. Come in, and I'll tell you how to make it up to me."

You perked up significantly and followed her inside as quickly as you could.

"Yes, ma'am! Thank you, baby. I'm sorry again."

"First step in making it up to me. Stop apologizing."

First birthday together

Bouquet: yellow tulip, yellow jasmine, dwarf sunflower

It was Sana's first birthday while she was with you, and it was a big moment. You wanted to get a gift that she liked and made the day worth her while. It was mid-winter, so flowers were generally out of season, but that wouldn't stop you. Quite the opposite even. You'd be going for a yellow bouquet to mimic a piece of the sunshine that you were so missing during these months. It included some dwarf sunflowers, which, despite the name, were still relatively large and perfect for your idea.

It was technically a late birthday gift and date, as her friends got the first pick for surprising her on the day of. Genuinely, it was more than worth it. You had shown up for a date as if you weren't taking her directly to them when they were simply waiting just around the corner, almost literally, just behind a curtain in the private area of the restaurant. She had left your side to greet them almost immediately, though not without a small kiss full of gratitude first. It didn't bother you at all, her friends were all wonderful people, and she looked radiant as she took in the whole scene. When you left for the night, she had complained about her cheeks hurting from smiling so much, but even the whole way home, she couldn't stop gushing and giggling about it all.

So, you simply sat back and listened, nodding even though you were sure she wasn't paying attention to you. You knew you'd get her full attention the next day regardless. Though when you returned to her apartment, you told her how beautiful she looked so happy, which only made her laugh again and jokingly swat at your arm.

She joked about it again the next day, asking if you were taking her on a date this time or if you'd secretly bring her to see her family. Honestly, it wasn't a bad idea for a future birthday, but you didn't say that, only repeating the idea in your mind to return to later.

The aquarium was rather crowded when you got there, with many people having the same idea. A weekend, insulated from the cold, and a generally nice place for a date. Of course, you had been expecting this, so it didn't ruin your experience entirely, even if it made moving around and looking at the tanks a little more difficult.

You'd been to an aquarium on a previous date, it was hard to come up with wholly original date ideas all the time, but this one was much bigger. That experience helped you know that Sana's reactions would be much more entertaining to watch than the fish ever could be. She had a perpetual curiosity and affection for the creatures of the world that you never got tired of. One of her many admirable and adorable traits. If you got into all that, you could be there all day.

The water shimmered and moved, entrancing patterns across the angles of her face, and you truly couldn't look away even if you wanted to. After watching the school of fish moving in inscrutable patterns, she finally noticed you staring at her and started pouting and whining.

"Look at the fish! Aquarium time, baby!" She took your hand and dragged you closer to the glass, forcibly turning your head with a pout every time you tried to rotate it back and look at her.

Eventually, you accepted the motion and stared at the fish, slowly separating your mind from all the people you knew were there and immersing yourself in the sight. Of course, Sana began to get impatient and tugged on your hand again after a while. You snapped out of your haze and followed wherever she planned to go next. Planning was evidently a generous word, as you were sure she was just walking to whatever caught her fancy as she saw it, but you would have followed her anywhere by then.

Much of the time passed like that: watching Sana and then watching the fish at her urging before she saw something new and exciting and dragged your stumbling self behind her. You wouldn't even dream of having it any other way.

You told her you wanted to take a slight detour on the way back. You didn't tell her where, but it wasn't like the florist was overly exciting by now. Or, it wasn't for you, but Sana's previously mentioned affection for the world often extended to plants as well. Especially very pretty plants like all the flowers hung up in that shop. You freed her to wander around as she pleased while you headed up to grab your pre-ordered bouquet. It was even prettier than you thought it would be.

"Princess!" You called out to her and heard Sana's shoes hitting the floor a moment later.

"Baby?" She asked before seeing the bouquet in your hands and running the last few steps.

"Oh, it's so pretty! My personal sunshine for the winter months, I love it." She took the bouquet from you and stared at it, sighing dreamily.

The walk back to her apartment was filled with her softly stroking the flowers, sighing, and several instances of her almost tripping. You very nearly teased her for it, but it was hard to when it happened because she was too busy staring at something you bought her.

She thanked you one more time at her door with a small kiss, and you were left staring at her door with a little dopey smile.

First anniversary

Bouquet: daisy, hibiscus, white jasmine

It was hard to believe a year had passed with Sana at your side. At that point, something very obvious first came to mind to commemorate the occasion. Buy a new bouquet. They were a nice way to celebrate big events and a reminder of you that Sana could look at every day, even if you couldn't be there with her. After confirming they would work with flower meanings, you decided to ask the florist for a bouquet meaning something like "love for a beautiful person." It was the one major descriptor that came to mind when you thought of your girlfriend. She was beautiful in every way, inside and out.

In the last few years, so much had happened, individually and together, but the excitement of knocking on her apartment door was always the same for you. Sometimes, between the moments of knocking and Sana answering, you daydream about when you wouldn't have to knock on this door at all. You would plan a day and simply see Sana emerge from behind a door while you waited. Or maybe you would make her wait for you. Whatever the situation, you longed for the day that you could share more time and space with her.

For now, the excitement remained. When Sana opened the door that time, you were more than excited, you were shocked. She opened the door, peeked around it, and you saw her hair was pink! You gasped and pushed in to get a proper look at her. As if the sight was unbelievable, you reached out and ran a small amount through your fingers, but the color stayed the same. It was a delicate floral pink, and it made her shine. Maybe you should go away for a few days more often if something like that was going to happen. As soon as you thought it, you knew that was unsustainable because you couldn't even imagine being away for that long now, and certainly not by choice.

"I love it. You're gorgeous. And happy anniversary, I love you." You stepped forward and rested your hands on her hips, practically hypnotized by the smile your words brought forth.

"My beloved," she crooned, holding you close. "Happy anniversary to us, the first of many, I'm sure."

You stood there for a few minutes, simply enjoying each other's presence before you had to leave and face the wide world once more. Thankfully, when you stepped back, you could survey her outfit. You didn't have to, as you could be sure she looked great, but then again, why wouldn't you? A simple black outfit, a skirt with a little pearl belt, and knee-high black boots. But you processed all that fairly quickly, though with some needed appreciation for her legs, because you were drawn back to her bright hair falling down her shoulders.

The way Sana giggled made you sure she noticed, but if she didn't expect that much reaction, you clearly hadn't shown your appreciation for everything about her well enough thus far.

Sometimes you thought your relationship became a little routine, which was comforting in its own way, and wondered if you and Sana could even surprise each other anymore. Well, this was proof that you most certainly could.

If it were someone else, or maybe some time else, you might have been concerned about someone trying to make a move on her. By then, you were confident and secure enough. She had told you that when she dressed up, it was for herself and maybe for you. And if anyone else had the gall to approach her, she was generally quick to rebuff them and point you out as her loving, doting, and sole partner. Although there had been a few times she'd let them keep trying for laughs as you looked on from a few feet away. It was mostly fun to watch the excitement dull as they realized she was not some doll to bend to their whims but a strong-willed and opinionated person.

Thankfully, tonight no one like that should bother you. It was a little cliche, but you returned to the restaurant of your first date, and it felt like stepping back in time. The place wasn't popular enough to have the money for major renovations, but it was popular enough that it was well-maintained and looked practically the same as you remembered it.

It wasn't private by any means, but that worked to your advantage as you and Sana spent about an hour scoping out passers-by and making up stories about what they might be doing. You both started pretty regular, but as time passed, you both came up with more ridiculous possibilities that sent you both into giggling fits.

The sunset, and eventually, you both had to leave. Not because you were disturbing people but because you had other exciting places to be. Or you might have planned for that, but Sana immediately turned back towards her apartment, pulling you behind her. When you wordlessly expressed your shock and confusion, she giggled.

"Listen, I had fun, but I'm tired and don't want you to leave yet. I mean, you can if you want, but I want you to come with me."

"No! I wanna go with you; we can do whatever you want at your apartment. It's our anniversary until I leave."

You walked the rest of the way back in happy, companionable silence. As soon as you got in the elevator, you drifted towards each other, pressing as much of yourselves together as possible. Of course, you reached her floor all too quickly, but Sana didn't hesitate to pull you forward, clearly excited as a puppy for whatever she had planned behind her apartment door. And you followed dopily, endlessly drawn into her gravity.

First proposal

It is the height of summer, but thankfully there is a light and cool breeze for your picnic today. Sweating through the heat is not generally attractive. Sana is wearing a rather casual outfit filled with bright yellow and pink for the summer, topped off by heart jewelry she had bought on a previous date. You've got a camera bag slung over your shoulder, with the excuse that it's just a nice day and you want some pictures. In reality, you want something like a proposal to be captured with something better than a phone camera. Which is all well and good if she says yes, but that inevitably leads to what will happen if she says no. No, you will not psych yourself out 2 minutes before you need to leave.

To your credit, it's a cute ass picnic date, even without the promise of a later proposal in your mind. You spend it talking about nothing, asking benign questions, and hardly paying attention to the answer because you could be entranced by your pretty girlfriend instead. It's a beautiful arrangement.

The sun is still high and hot in the sky, but when you look at Sana, it simply feels right. So you stand up and reach a hand out to her.

"Will you come with me, princess? I have a place I want to show you." You say.

The place is not the thing of importance that you want to show her, but she doesn't need to know that yet. A small clearing dotted by flowers and a surprising lack of weeds. You put the bouquet and the basket down while she looks around and peers at every type of flower.

"Baby?" You call, and she comes bounding back to you, her smile wide and eyes gleaming.

"Yes, darling?"

"The bouquet. The white roses you may recognize from our first date, where I ambitiously got them as a sign of new beginnings. I wanted so badly to know you better and hoped I could convince you to stay. I'm so glad that whatever I did or said worked. The little ones are yarrow for everlasting love. Which I hope we have because I can't imagine life without you now, and I hope I never see what it's like. Honeysuckle are the spindly ones poking out the sides, and they're for the bonds of love. For me, that is not a duty to stay but rather an agreement that we both have made and wish to stick to. And the firework-like ones are myrtle, but there's something else I have to do first."

There's no grand reaction, so you don't think Sana has caught on to you yet. Or if she has, she is holding her emotions in very well. You reach into a tiny pocket at the bottom of your camera bag and pull out the small blue box. There's no hiding what it is, so you turn and push out one knee. And the way her face scrunches as she bursts into a strange combination of tears and smiles is the picture that will be etched into your mind forever.

"The myrtle means love in a marriage, which I believe we could have for the rest of our lives if you would like. So, Minatozaki Sana, will you marry me?"

"Oh goodness, of course I will! I'm too in love to ever dream of saying no, and how dare you think otherwise."

You laugh through what may be your own tears; no one can confirm nor deny and wonder how you could have believed otherwise. You've never felt this happy before, and you won't likely have many moments better than this one, if any.

"I love you, princess. I love you so much."

"And you better keep loving me. You're stuck me to you now, and I'm not letting go."

"I would never want you to."

#sana x reader #sana fluff #minatozaki sana fluff #twice fluff #twice x reader #clownracha prompt #clownracha monthly prompt #my writing

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hypergamiss · 5 months ago

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Maybe it's just me but do you ever feel like in the past few years, since the hypergamy, level up, etc topic has become louder online, it's been over run by girls who's main objective is to attain beauty and a well off man? There's nothing wrong with that, but I'm finding it hard to find women who have any sort of substance and it makes me sad. During the Trump legal stuff the past few months people have been ripping his attorney, Alina Habba to shreds due to her clear incompetence. An interview resurfaced where she was saying that she'd rather be pretty than smart because you can fake being smart (fyi, you can't fake being smart and she's proof lol). These are the type of women I'm talking about. It's embarrassing. Those are the types of conversations I was having with friends when I was 7. I just think it's not a good sign, socially, that we have more and more women focusing on just being attractive and the quality of their partners over anything else. I'm very educated and gravitate to intellectually stimulating topics, but I also love all things beauty and aesthetics. When I try to join the "It girl" groups I never fit in because they're only interested in frivolous conversations. I get dead stares when I try to talk about philosophy and science. But the academic, intellectual groups usually reject me right away because of the way I look and assume I'm one of the Alina Habba types. I just wish it wasn't an "either or" situation.

Unfortunately people will always take a niche or topic and create an extreme version of it that is clearly driven by their biggest insecurities. The ones who are the loudest usually have the worst advice and the ones who are more subtle are always the ones dropping the real gems. Their content might be unorganized and they might not have the best set up/equipment, but what they say will be so real and genuine.

I actually think that things have always been the way you describe your experience. Attractive people do indeed get away with a lot in general, and very few of them choose to not take advantage of that and put in the work that everyone else does. I think it's a very interesting subject and complex because everyone goes through different experiences in life that will end up shaping them into who they eventually become. Some will say "I'm damned if I do, and I'm damned if I don't," as they express some sad truths. For attractive females you can choose to either take advantage of your looks to get ahead, or go through the motions of constantly being underestimated and having to prove yourself because you were born attractive. I had a friend who was a very attractive male in medical school. He looked like a football or rugby player and no matter how much he tried to prove that he wasn't just your typical jock, he was always doubted in class by all of his peers and professors. It was wild to see the roles reversed and I'm sure that he is still an outcast till this day when he goes to conventions and meet ups with other doctors.

"I just think it's not a good sign, socially, that we have more and more women focusing on just being attractive and the quality of their partners over anything else."

I haven't looked at the numbers lately but I do know that more women are getting educated now than ever as of 2023 so I like to think that this issue isn't going to be a growing one.

"When I try to join the "It girl" groups I never fit in because they're only interested in frivolous conversations."

Oh I know exactly what you mean... I will get invited to outings based on my looks but rarely show up because I know that the crowd will be the shallow type with not a lot of substance. I have to know that I can talk about real topics to actually enjoy myself. I have plenty of stories where these kind of people end up realizing I'm more of a nerd and their reactions are so obvious!

"But the academic, intellectual groups usually reject me right away because of the way I look and assume I'm one of the Alina Habba types."

I've learned that to be accepted in these groups it helps by being the one to initiate conversations that will really make them forget about what you look like because the topic is that impactful. If it's an online group I won't add a profile picture until my personality is established first, so by the time everyone knows what I look like it doesn't matter anymore. I know that can seem annoying, but it works.

"I just wish it wasn't an "either or" situation."

I agree, stereotypes are the worst.

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clonebrainrot · 7 months ago

Text

Aftermath Season 1 episode 1 rewatch

A live reaction

The bad batch aftermath

So we begin

I completely forgot that they had a clone wars intro for this

Ah Kanan sounding like a 40 year old man

And here they come!

Ah POV shot my beloved

God they are so badass

God I am already getting emotional over fucking nothing lol

Tech no you can’t say the C-word

You gotta appreciate all these battles where they are working together it only happens like 3 times in the entire show

God captain grey sucks

lol Tech doesn’t even look up from his data pad when he is introduced by Kanan. He is literally me.

Any orders or shall we do what we do? God what a great line

Oh yay! Order 66!

And everything continued to go down hill from this point onward

smh rebels was contradicted in rebels he said her last words were run not Caleb! I can’t believe they would get this wrong. My day is ruined

Also I am literally just writing all my thoughts out as they happen I’ll have a lot more succinct post later.

Even this early I cannot get over how good the animation looks

You have orders from the chancellor? Wrecker doesn’t give a shit lol

Hunter saw Kanan and he wanted to adopt him immediately

Crosshair is an amazing shot anytime he isn’t shooting a good guy. Then he misses a lot. Although you can argue that he is subconsciously resisting the order if you want

Poor Hunter he is trying his best to

God I am so tempted to writer a the bad batch protests Kanan fic. I think Omega and Kanan would have such a fun dynamic.

God the scenery shots all look gorgeous I wish I knew how to take screenshots of Disney plus or else I would show you

I forgot how often Tech talked. I don’t know why

Remember when people said the dead Jedi here was shaak ti? Cause that made no sense. She literally has a green hand.

Also every line of dialogue between Tech and Wrecker is just hilarious

“Oh they seem the same to me” I love you tech

My exceptional mind! Another great line

Info dump more Tech I will enjoy every piece of dialogue you give me

First appearance of Omega!

Interestingly Omega notices when Hunter looks up at her. Hmm makes one think doesn’t it. Tap this one down as the first of “omega is force sensitive” (I won’t let this theory die”

There she is. She is just the best.

Also Omega has the worst haircut ever.

I love all of Omega’s weird little waves. She’s so socially awkward sometimes I love that about her.

Oh boy. Tarkin here he comes to ruin the day

lol the Kaminoasn really are like “bitch what are you talking about”

Oh my man soup clone is gonna steal the scene

I like to blow things up because I like to blow things up. You always know your ways with words tech

I can’t get over how horrible omega’s haircut looks it is so bad

Soup clone or should I say CX2!

I love that this food fight is a regular occurrence

Regular clone coming in With a metal tray!

I wish they had done more with Echo’s PTSD

I will leave you to process the shock of this revelation

Maybe this empire thing isn’t so bad after all (it was)

I just realized what happened to Lama Su? He just dipped out of the shows lol

And wrecker is shot for the first time. First of many. I think it might be four total. Wrecker takes an absolute beating throughout the show

What we did on Felucia. Well now I need a whole show about that

Tech riding the proto dark troopers is such a video game moment

I completely forgot how little Omega is in this first episode until like well over half way through

Crosshair’s knife shot may be my favorite of the entire show.

Ah the fetus room my favorite one on Kamino

I completely forgot Tarkin has met Omega.

Squad does not make a squadron. I thought squadron was just for aircraft and naval vessels? I know this is a nitpick and doesn’t really matter but it stood out

I love how Hunter always goes to Omega’s eye level. I love that about him.

Oh oh! Oh no! Kid you aren’t a soldier. Damnit I am crying now. She grew up to be a soldier! Ah I hate it I am going to bawl my eyes out for the rest of the episode

Saw you complicated man. I don’t hate you like some, but you always go about it the wrong way you drove so many people away you indirectly killed one of the brightest minds on Star Wars, but your heart was in the right place. It’s just how you fight. That’s what is important

I love how Tech knows who Saw is on sight. He knows literally everything I love that about him

Saw also does it. He gets to eye level when talking to children. I love this detail. Not talking down always talking directly.

Crosshair always the contrarian with “not that you know of”

Wait how did Tech know about the conversation with Tarkin where he talks about the five clones. He wasn’t there. There are a few instances throughout the show where characters know things they really shouldn’t

Someone is coming we need to go. That’s two strikes for force sensitive omega (again not letting this die)

God the wide shots on this show are stunning

Do you think it’s a problem that I can recognize all the trailer shots as they appear? lol

Strike 3 for Omega being force sensitive. Although this one you can excuse as just her knowing about the inhibitor chip. There is one that will be coming up that you can’t read as anything other than force sensitive IMO

Oh did I ever tell you how when I first saw Omega in the trailer I thought she was a boy lol.

I love Omega copying her brothers it’s so cute

I can’t get over how bad her hair is. I hate her original hair style. It’s just so bad lol

God even in this episode so early the music is absolutely banging.

Omega knows crosshair is coming before he actually comes. And then she’ll make this amazing shot. Omega is force sensitive. Nothing says she isn’t in the show. And so I will go to my grave believing it. Canon be damned

Also why is the Coruscant guard on Kamino? What happened to the gray colored Kamino police clones?

That’s a second shot for wrecker. Dude just keeps getting beaten the shit out of. Already planting the seeds for that inhibitor chip activating later

And there is the shot. Followed by shots that go completely off the mark. Makes one think doesn’t it…

Also Nala Se you sneaky sneaky. I hate you for fives and also love you for helping Omega in the end.

So begins Omega’s adventure. And so begins the beginning of the end for theirs

Next stop Cut Lawquane

God I am excited to go through these episodes. It’s like it’s starting all over again even If I have watched this show a collective 4 times lol.

#star wars #starwars #the bad batch #tbb #tbb omega #omega tbb #TBB tech #tech tbb #Hunter TBB #TBB hunter #crosshair TBB #TBB Crosshair #CBR rewatches #CBR posts

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shadowmaat · 10 months ago

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No fun allowed

Internet drama and controversy can be fun to watch, but I also love silly things, feel good stories, and other harmless fun that gets shared on the internet.

I am, however, exhausted by the ever-increasing number of people who feel compelled to state that something-or-other is "obviously fake" or to otherwise question the validity/intentions of the poster.

Look. Kids. Sometimes, yes, it's important to clarify when something being shared is verifiably false. Especially if what's being shared contains dangerous misinformation that could cause harm to someone else.

Most of the time, though, it doesn't matter. And just because you personally believe something is fake doesn't mean you're right. Stop being an asshole just for the sake of trying to prove how much smarter and better you are than everyone else. Stop trying to discredit strangers on the internet who aren't hurting anyone and are very likely telling the truth. Stop assuming everything is fake. There's a time and a place for those kind of conversations and accusations. Learn how to tell the difference.

The most recent example I've seen is on a video of someone unrolling their knitting project only for it to roll off the end of the bed and startle a cat the maker didn't realize was there. Cute. Funny. No harm done.

Someone in the comments questioned why they were filming if they didn't know the cat was there. Condescending. Accusatory. Rude.

The person was clearly intending to show off all the work they'd accomplished on their knitting project. Very cool and stripey and either a scarf or possibly one side of a to-be-completed blanket. Or a bed for a boa constrictor, who knows? Point is, someone was trying to show off something they were proud of and then got a startled cat as a bonus.

Even if it had been a "set-up" though, so what? Is it hurting anyone? No. Does it change the context of what's seen in the video? No. There's no harm and no foul and no goddamn reason to be a petty suspicious jerk about it.

Another example would be any of Seanan McGuire's Tales of Animal Rehab and Chaos. Some of these do sound bizarre, like the alligator lizard in the leg story, but weird things DO happen (especially around Seanan) and accusing her of making stuff up for attention/clout is fucking rude. Sure, she's a storyteller, but some things she doesn't need to make up. Especially if she isn't getting paid for it. lol

Again, no one gets hurt by stories like that (ignoring the injuries sustained in the story itself) and it's also a good example of what NOT to do if you find an alligator lizard in your tent/sleeping bag. Important safety tip: don't try stabbing something anywhere near your own body.

People can, however, get hurt by constant accusations of lying. Seanan no longer shares those awesome stories because when she did it always resulted in a bunch of armchair fact-checkers calling her a liar and demanding "proof" that any of it happened.

When it comes to stuff like AITA or that Neighborhood thing or whatever, sure, some of those stories are made up. But again, who cares? Do you think you'll get points for calling out an obviously fake story about, I dunno, some dude replacing his gf's perfume for skunk spray because he's convinced she's cheating on him? No. No one cares. Other than maybe reassuring people that so-and-so isn't in any danger, you gain literally nothing by outing it as fake.

Sometimes those things are done for fun. And sometimes they're based on real examples of the kinds of things that have happened. And even when they're fake they can act as cautionary tales to help folks identify potentially dangerous behaviors. Maybe a guy hasn't actually replaced a wife's/girlfriend's perfume with skunk spray, but people of all identities have engaged in paranoid, possessive behavior and if you know what the warning signs look like you can take precautions. Same with tall tales from the workplace. Or involving neighbors. Or whatever. If it isn't hurting anyone and isn't spreading dangerous misinformation, maybe consider leaving it alone.

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acorrespondence · 2 years ago

Note

I was just thinking about how much I love Boyd in your Boyd/Raylan kid fic, and sorry this is such a vague question lol but I'd love if you had any like bonus Boyd backstory or details that you'd want to talk about in that universe, or like just any info on how this version of Boyd and the like perfect imo characterization of how he would be as a dad and a partner came to you!

Oh no this is a great question! Well, great for me because I love to talk about this stuff, maybe not so great for you since this answer is about to be real long and rambly haha. Ultimately though I think it comes down to the fact that, at his core, Boyd is a lot less like his father or even Arlo, and a lot more like Mags Bennett. I think on the surface level, they’re actually quite different—Mags has her matronly, pillar-of-the-community persona, and her ruthless pragmatism is tucked away underneath that, but it bubbles up to the surface sometimes. Boyd, on the other hand, inhabits his personas much more fully, and cycles through a lot more of them. I think probably the biggest difference between them is that Boyd really doesn’t seem to believe in violence as a form of control, at least not for those in his employ. Killing Devil and Dewey isn’t a way to control them, it’s just a solution to the problem their presence presents. Even when he gets violent with Ava in the last season, he’s not using it to influence her behavior, it’s just more of a controlled version of a child’s tantrum—you hurt me, so now I’m gonna hurt you.

At their cores, however, Boyd and Mags are both motivated by the same thing: the idea of legacy. I think many people often mistake this in Boyd as a survival instinct, and I sort of agree, in the way that legacy and lasting impact past death are our way to blunt the innate human fear of mortality—death may be inevitable, but our works and stories can continue on. Except I think saying he’s “just trying to survive” throughout the show kind of neuters his character a bit. Because one of the things that makes him so interesting is that everyone else around him is just trying to survive, and he’s not. He wants more than that, and makes other people believe that he can get it, not just for himself but for them too. It’s why he can rally people around him so easily.

In fact, he routinely does things that he does not *need* to do, that put his life directly in jeopardy, in favor of making a name for himself and trying to improve his position in life. And in so doing, he and Mags fall into the same trap: this idea that legacy is achieved only when you beat the game. All the suffering will be worth it when you reach that light at the end of the tunnel. Mags hurts her children over and over again, both directly and indirectly, all in the name of securing her legacy, *for them*, and in the end it takes Doyle dying and losing Loretta and getting the thing she thought she wanted for her to look back and realize: *that* was her legacy. Nothing good was ever going to come out of any of it. Every action she took in the name of securing her legacy was actually destroying it, was moving her further away from the thing she thought she was working toward. All that suffering in the name of legacy? That *is* her legacy. That’s what she’s leaving behind. Ava saw it clearly, even if none of the rest of them did: it’s all just people making choices, all down the line.

I honestly think characterizing Boyd as being motivated solely by survival throughout the series is a bit of a disservice to his character development as well, because I think his whole arc in the show is leading up to his realization, in the finale, that his life is actually more important to him than his symbolic life after death—whether that symbolic survival is secured by religious means, by his epic Bonnie and Clyde-style love story with Ava, or by his adherence to Raylan’s own personal mythos that places them in opposition on a time-tested scale. These are all just the natural replacements for his astronaut goals and later his goals in going off to war—the theater for his exploits grows smaller and smaller as he fails to make a name for himself outside Harlan. Ava even came right out and said it: in Lexington she’s anonymous, no one knows her name or marital status or anything about her. If anyone’s going to remember Boyd, it’s gonna be Harlan (though several times throughout the series he gets designs on something bigger, it never pans out). In the end, though—and in contrast to Mags, who couldn’t see past the crumbling of everything she’d thought she was building—Boyd makes the decision to put life over legacy.

On the surface, his situation in season 2 might *seem* like it should have done the job of disillusioning him about legacies already, but that was more of a symbolic suicide, Boyd resigning himself to the fact that he was doomed to have no legacy and thus making *no* choices. He didn’t deny his previous legacy; it was taken from him by his father. He doesn’t even get the legacy of having killed his father, or of having killed the woman who killed his father. And following that, other people make his choices for him: Kyle with the mine robbery, Ava with their relationship. But he’s *not actually dead,* and his commitment to not making choices is a choice in itself. He’s absolutely capable of fighting back against the desires and machinations of those around him, but he just—doesn’t. And in the end, both of these non-decision decisions in their own way present him with a new legacy, which he immediately latches onto as soon as that light comes back on at the far end of his tunnel. If he’d made the realization that his life is more important than his legacy, he wouldn’t have needed this symbolic revival, because *he was never dead.*

For the purposes of my fic, the inciting incident that caused the canon divergence had to be a latter such event, to my mind—Boyd losing his way—because otherwise he’s just going to stagnate in Harlan and stay in his neo-Nazi persona long enough to get calcified in it like Mags, or until something shakes up the game board, like Raylan’s arrival. But it wasn’t enough just to give him a kid, because all he’d care about was the legacy he’s securing for that kid. So I had to figure out how to make Bo do the equivalent of killing all his followers in the woods. So: the kid’s mama runs off, Ava leaves Bowman to try and make a life on her own in Corbin, Boyd’s really low on child care options and figures Bo’s a better bet than Bowman. Only it turns out that’s kind of a rock and a hard place situation (we know from season 6 where Bowman learned his wifebeating ways, and Bo definitely strikes me as the “small children and animals don’t understand any kind of discipline but physical” kind of guy, whereas Boyd as I’ve said doesn’t really believe in control through violence, likely because it never really worked on him).

Enter: Boyd going to Raylan hoping he’ll give him purpose, just like he did in canon after the equivalent event. Only this time, Raylan offers him more than just the potential for retribution against his father. He offers pretty much the same thing Ava did, for the low low price of papering over the past. So Boyd basically teaches himself architecture—few other legacies last longer than buildings, and if you make enough then at least a few of them are bound to stick around a while—and invests in a series of failed startups until he’s hit, quite suddenly, with a Mags Bennett-style reality check as detailed in chapter 5, forcing him to confront the legacy he’s already created and the fact that it’s absolute shit. Luckily for him, unlike Mags, it happened before anyone died, and he had a chance to course-correct. Fast-forward to now, where Boyd is *trying* to make choices that actually bear out his goals, but maybe still puts a little too much stock in legacy, since he hasn’t yet reached that final step of enlightenment that he hits in the finale when he refuses to pull on Raylan.

#justie2justie communication #asks #love-leah #heavy heart #i actually do have a bit of backstory that i shared with willow in a comment exchange a few chapters ago #but this answer is WAY too long already so i’m gonna make a separate post #long post #wow this barely even answers your question does it #it barely even talks about boyd in his capacity as husband/father *facepalm*#also control through violence is not to be confused with control through fear which he does use #he’s an expert in mortality salience so he knows how to use others’ fear of death against them #boyd crowder #mags bennett #justified #my fic

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the-savage-garden · 1 year ago

Text

Nitpicking ACOWAR Ch 9

The reason this gets long is mostly because I was copy-pasting from the book that irritated me lol. Like, finding out what all of Feyre's bs "plans" were was the worst, everything was such a mess. It becomes clear how there was so much writing that was pointless, like SJM was putting off things to do a "reveal" and meanders with her writing.

Chapter 9

-Ianthe is sticking around instead of going to her temple “a few miles away.” I didn’t realize they used miles in this world, interesting.

-Ianthe is still trying to get closer to Tamlin for some reason, I still don’t understand the politics of this world. She still thinks she has a chance after what happened with the whipping. I’m so lost.

-Feyre is still working on keeping the sentries on her side. I wonder when she goes back to the Night Court would the sentries feel betrayed by her?

-”...while the healer quietly patched him up.” Is the healer magical or not? I don’t even know how healing works in this world to be able to tell.

-”Then apologized that I hadn’t been able to prevent it…I meant every word…” Feyre, you’re the reason it happened in the first place, the hell is wrong with you?

-”If I had asked them, they would have handed me their own knives to slit their throats.” I REALLY hate Feyre.

-Everyone’s going to the wall this time. I don’t know why it matters though.

-Jurian is winking at Feyre again. I’ve decided I hate him too.

-I also hate Alis. I hate everyone in this book honestly.

-[“I know the feeling,” was all I said.] That is not the same Feyre, you were barely in the Night Court, Alis hasn’t been home in Summer for around 50 years. How is Night Court your “home” already?

-”Even her tree-bark skin seemed to blanch.” If Alis has tree-bark skin how could it blanch? This doesn’t make sense to me.

-”She knew which court I meant. And did not look afraid.” But it’s the Night Court! They literally have an evil reputation, why would Alis not be afraid of them? I don’t understand her character.

-The sentries won’t look at Tamlin, you’d think he’d notice. I remember when he used to be more observant from the 1st book, I miss that guy.

-”...a courtesy I knew none of the others had extended.” Maybe because the nameless sentry was punished for a crime you framed him committing?

-”...appearing eager to mend the rift the whipping had torn between us.” But you’re trying to “mend” it with Ianthe, who the sentries all hate now. What does this accomplish at this point?

-Feyre shares a tent with Ianthe, supposedly to spare Lucien from dealing with her.

-”Lying beside Ianthe without slitting her throat…” I forgot how murderous Feyre has become now. It makes me sad.

-”I repeated their names silently, over and over into the darkness.” I see someone was inspired by Game Of Thrones (except it was a kill list, I know).

-Feyre also names her sisters which I’m surprised by. They haven’t exactly gotten along, it just seems… too soon to get to that yet. I don’t know, maybe it’s just me.

-”My goal was bigger than revenge. My purpose greater than personal retribution” Haha, funny joke Feyre. Wait, you’re serious? You’ve literally done nothing to Hybern this whole time you’ve been here, and you’ve been focusing on having your revenge on Spring instead. Ugh.

-”I wasn’t sure I’d been born with the ability to forgive. Not for terrors inflicted on those I loved.” I’m a little confused with Feyre’s character, I don’t remember this ever being brought up before.

-”For myself, I didn’t care—not nearly as much.” I guess this makes sense, Feyre did decide to hunt for her family so this at least tracks (I know it was because of a promise to her mother but I’d like to think Feyre did it because she cared even if she never thought it).

-”Could not stomach the idea of letting these people get away with what they’d done.” Who are “these people”? I get it with Ianthe but everyone else wanted to save Feyre from the Night Court because they believed she was in danger. Also no one you care about is dead, just injured, or in the case of your sisters are now immortal. So what exactly have they done to you?

-[“Hybern is not our enemy,” she said a tad breathlessly.] But they are Ianthe, what are you even talking about? I don’t get this character’s motivation at all. The Hybern royals think Ianthe is below them, shouldn’t she be worried about them?

-Also what’s the point of having Feyre “subtly” threaten Ianthe? Shouldn’t this tip off Ianthe that something’s wrong? These intimidating tactics make no sense to me.

-”Lucien and Tamlin showed the twins where the crack in the wall lay.” I’m still baffled that this is a plot point. It’s just… this is the best that SJM could come up with?

-”And as they had done with the first two, they spent hours surveying it, the surrounding land.” See what I mean? Why do they need to survey the wall for hours? I know the magic wall is going to go down but what’s the point of lingering on this part so much? Something else should be going on.

-”We’d played our little power games, established I could bite if I wished, but we’d tolerate each other.” I’m so lost. Hybern is framed to be the antagonists of the series but then they don’t do anything to Feyre. Is it because of the deal that Tamlin made that Hybern can’t harm anyone in Spring? I already can’t remember and I’m not going back.

-The weird twins discuss which hole is better. (I realized a funny joke about this.)

-For some reason we’re focusing on the fact that Feyre is eating an apple during this. Why?

-“Yes, but we’d have more access to the High Lord’s supplies.” I thought the deal with Hybern was leaving Spring alone while they go through? Why are supplies included? Why is this now being brought up when it should’ve been brought up earlier?

-”...and I had no idea whatsoever where Lucien or the sentries were.” That’s a rookie mistake on your part Feyre. How are you the one pulling the strings again? It feels like Feyre should be more out of her element than the book portrays it.

-”Good. Easier for me as I shoved the apple slice into my mouth…” What comedy bit am I about to read here? I’m dying inside.

-Why are the twins even listening to Feyre at all? I don’t get them at all.

-”I shrugged, cutting another piece of apple.” Note to self, don’t write someone eating while they’re talking, it’s annoying. And gross. And serves no purpose, unless I want to write someone being a piece of shit. In movies it’s usually done to make it obvious a character is an asshole.

-[“You two talk louder than you realize.” Shared accusatory glares between them.] The twins know that Feyre has mind powers, why are they being paranoid of each other?

-“Unless you want to risk the other courts having time to rally and intercepting you before you can cross to the strait, I’d pick this one.” That doesn’t even make any sense. These are all dumb writing choices.

-“But what do I know? You two have squatted on a little island for five hundred years. Clearly you know more about Prythian and moving armies than me.” I feel like SJM is basing this moment from a movie or something again. This quote is giving me deja vu.

-“This is not about armies, so I will trust you to keep that mouth shut until we have use for you.” Well, duh, they’re taking down the wall, not marching an army to the human lands because that would be pointless since humans are super weak against Fae.

-Feyre gets information out of Brannagh that I’ve already figured out. Why are the twins treated like they’re stupid? If it’s because “Fae are arrogant” I’m going to lose it.

-”It is for bringing down this hideous wall and reclaiming what we were.” What does “reclaiming what you were” mean exactly?

-Does Feyre seriously get all the information she needs in one chapter? This brings me back to ACOMAF where we got one chapter of backstories. Ugh.

-”...Vallahan, Montesere, and Rask.” Got other places named.

-”Two hundred thousand. Mother save us” I don’t think SJM knows how troop numbers work.

-The twins should know that Feyre used to be human right? I just… I’m losing it.

-“The king had not yet found the Cauldron, despite years of searching. It served his purposes to let her be an experiment for how we might break these people. And served as good motivation for our allies on the continent to join us, knowing what would await them.” I hate this explanation.

-”I finished off my apple and chucked the core into the woods. They watched it fly like two hounds tracking a pheasant.” WHY? Why is this here?

-“So they’re all going to converge here? I’m supposed to play hostess to so many soldiers?” This is a stupid question.

-“Our own force will take care of Prythian before uniting with the others. Our commanders are preparing for it as we speak.” That’s obvious. Did Feyre seriously think that they’re going to have all of the arm forces in one place?

-Something about the stupid Cauldron. Hybern is using it to break the wall.

-“Probably. Though this mortal mind did manage to solve Amarantha’s riddle—and destroy her.” That’s not the brag you think it is Feyre, the answer was literally love. It wasn’t even a good riddle. I thought it was supposed to be stupid as an insult to Feyre honestly. And Tamlin was the one that destroyed her, not Feyre.

-“Why do you think Hybern let her live for so long in these lands? Better to have someone else do his dirty work.” What?

-”Not at me—but at who had given me those bruises. Who had picked Ianthe over them—and Hybern over their honor and people.” I wonder who caused that to happen.

-I’m sure I’m supposed to be happy that Feyre is leaving Spring but I’m not ready. I don’t want to read about the Night Court again.

-”The one I’d brought with me on every trip out to the wall, just in case.” In case of what? Leaving early? Feyre’s plans suck.

-”I had numbers, I had a purpose, I had a specific location, and the names of foreign territories.” The most obvious things are the answers? This is the info that Feyre was looking for? The only thing Feyre really needed was the location but it’s the place where Tamlin and Feyre went through in the 1st book so it feels that Feyre should’ve known already.

-”But more than that, I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring.” I want everyone to know I fucking hate this. This was the best plan Feyre could come up with to deal with Hybern? Spring isn’t even a true ally to Hybern, if the King thought that then he’s an idiot.

-”And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares.” I hate this manipulative Feyre.

-”...the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style.” When the twins attacked those humans? Did Feyre intend for that to happen?

-”I’d planted images in his head… How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern.” I’m somehow supposed to see Feyre as a good person in all of this? That she does terrible things to do the right thing? But then she manipulates minds and creates false memories into people? I’m supposed to root for that?

-”And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet…” What the fuck Feyre? Does Feyre not realized how fucked up this is? She’s worse than Hybern! Hybern is at least honest with their shit.

-”There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.” Alliance? You mean the deal that Tamlin made with Hybern to save you? And me? Feyre is so selfish, I know she was before, but this… Ugh.

-”A few seconds extra had me snatching Tamlin’s bandolier of knives…Illyrian fighting knives.” Why is Feyre stealing them? This doesn’t make sense. They were given to Tamlin (I think) and that doesn’t give Feyre the right to take them.

-”Keep going. They were distracted, horrible as it was.” Ah, yes, let’s leave your friend Lucien behind huh?

-”Keep going, keep going, keep going.” Don’t remind me of Finding Nemo, book. Ugh.

-[“I thought you’d seek me out after the Rite,” Ianthe purred.] So, Ianthe likes to have control over men by forcing herself on them. But I’m completely lost with how she words this.

-“I was obligated to perform the Rite,” Lucien snapped. “That night wasn’t the product of desire, believe me.” But everyone gives Tamlin a hard time from the 1st book because of the Rite. Neither Tamlin nor Lucien gets a choice on who they sleep with during the Rite. I just… have many questions for this that won’t get answered.

-”I’d primed everything to fall; I’d long since stopped feeling any sort of guilt or doubt about my plan.” I gotta reiterate how awful Feyre is.

-”I had done my job too well, provoked her jealousy too much with every instance I’d found ways to get Lucien to touch me in her presence, in Tamlin’s presence.” Jealousy? Why would Ianthe be jealous? She just wants control, doesn’t she? I also hate the way touching is used as a catalyst for this because Lucien and Feyre are supposedly friends, this shouldn’t mean much, at least to me.

-[“Do not touch me,” he growled. And then I was moving.] Oh, so now you suddenly care about your friend Feyre?

-”I masked the sound of my footfalls…” With magic or…?

-Ianthe restrains Lucien with some blue stone from Hybern that can magically nullify powers. In the 2nd book Rhys had also been chained up with the same stone. I just realized this but did SJM borrow the sea-stone thing from One Piece? I didn’t realize how much of an anime fan SJM was.

-”She slid a hand over the broad panes of his chest, his stomach.” I don’t like how this whole thing is framed. This is supposed to be horrifying, not sexy.

-”And Lucien’s eyes shot to me as I stepped between the trees, fear and humiliation reddening his golden skin.” The way this is written confuses me for some reason? Also we’ve got golden to describe skin again.

-”Her hand slid lower, not for his own pleasure, but simply to throw it in my face that she could—” Why is this directed at Feyre for? I thought Ianthe just likes having power over others but then why throw this into Feyre’s face. I don’t get Ianthe, this writing sucks.

-”A mask over a face of decay. That’s what it was like to go inside that beautiful head and find such hideous thoughts inside it.” I hate the way this is written.

-”Lucien’s skin drained of color as Ianthe obeyed me, her face queerly vacant, pliant.” I know Feyre is saving Lucien but I don’t like how she’s mind-controlling Ianthe.

-“Smash your hand with the rock as hard as you can until I tell you to stop.” This reminds me a lot of that villain from Jessica Jones, how is Feyre the good guy again?

-“You will not remember what happened here. You will tell the others that you fell.” Huh, that’s what an abuser usually says.

-“You are allowed to see a healer to set the bones. But not to erase the scarring…” Why bring up scarring like that?

-”I’ve debated it every single day since I learned you sold out my sisters to Hybern.” So, Feyre wanted to kill Ianthe because of what happened to her sisters. I get it but I dunno, all of this feels odd to me.

-Is Feyre not going to ask if Lucien is okay? Or do anything to reassure him? No? Okay.

-And now the weird twins show up.

#anti sjm #anti acowar

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