#that sickness should stop bothering altogether tbh

[irritablepoe]

Head hurt still hhhhhhhhh😔

[galkyrie]

Every time we touch has me WEAK i want a full fic, i will never get sick of this tbh

Honestly how may scenarios can they UST through before it boils over? We're gonna find out together anon:

PT 5

Tim wasn't avoiding Jason. It was just- 

Gotham was a big city. It wasn't like they saw each other all the time normally- not that this wasn't normal behavior for him, because again, he wasn't avoiding Jason. 

He was just busy. Really. 

There was a gang war brewing between some of the more established rogues that was boiling over into his territory that he was having to keep a close eye on, which combined with his regular cases and teamwork and job at W.E- 

Yeah, it was pretty standard to not see him for weeks without having to resort to avoiding the man. Easy to convince himself he wasn't doing it on purpose.

Well, it was easy until he was definitely, for sure going to see him and the pit in his stomach erupted in butterflies at the thought. 

It was a glancing blow- one he managed to mostly dodge, but with Fries 'close enough' meant at least a mild case of hypothermia. He's probably a bit more aggressive about making sure the man won't be able to slip his bonds before GCPD can collect him as a result.

"You look a little cold, Red Robin." Victor smirked as he watched Tim secure the device with trembling hands. He didn't bother with the banter this time- not about to give the man the satisfaction of hearing his teeth chatter. 

He knew he was in trouble when he was three buildings away from the scene- the shivering wasn't stopping even as he got further away from the source of the cold and his limbs were slowly getting clumsier. He swallowed his pride and opened the comm link when he almost stumbled off that third roof.

"O, I'm gonna have to call it tonight, Fries got a hit in." 

"Was it a direct hit? Does someone need to monitor you?" 

"I don't think so? Once I'm outta the suit I should be fine with standard procedure-" the thermal emergency blanket he pulled from his utility belt wouldn't be much help until after he removed the part of the suit currently chilling his skin, but- 

He was ten minutes out from any clothing caches he'd tucked around the city and accessing them from the rooftops was a no-go with his currently unreliable muscles. 

Tim bit back a groan and got to work on unarming the safety catches on the top half of his suit- a task proving herculean as tremors began wracking his body. Eventually he's beat- curled in on himself and clinging to the emergency blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

If he freezes to death in the height of summer he's gonna come back just to haunt Fries. That man thought he was annoying now? he could be so much worse. "On second thought- may need an extraction. Suit's frozen and I c-cant get it-" 

"-I've got 'im. ETA is two minutes." Hood interrupted and Tim had to mute his comm in order to let his opinion on that go unheard. It made sense that it was him, both logistically and in the 'pretty sure the universe hates me' sense. He hunkered down against a wall, still trying at the frozen-shut catch gracelessly, knowing if he could just get it off- 

"Easy, Birdy. I've got you." The modulated voice rang out as the man landed to his right, immediately crouching to take a look at what he was struggling with. Tim stopped, fighting to keep his shivering under control as he let Jason eye the frozen patch of Kevlar and come up with a course of action.

"Sorry 'bout this Babybird," Jason eventually murmured as he  pulled the kris from its sheath, leaning over Tim's frame and bringing the blade to the stuck catch. "You can afford a new suit, at least-" 

"Wait, don't-" Tim's eyes didn't leave those hands as the blade sliced through the weave- and the embedded booby trap- altogether. He flinched, then blinked down as nothing happened. "Huh. S'posed to have knockout gas. I guess I need to adjust the safety measures to withstand a lower temperature. The compound Freeze used was obviously newer- the reaction is stronger and longer lasting-" 

"-That's what you're focusing on right now?" Not even the Hood could obscure the incredulity from his tone. 

"Y-yeah." He answered simply.

Of course he's focusing on fixing his suit and getting his hands on the weapon Freeze shot him with to test- the alternative would be to focus on the fact that Jason was currently undressing him. He was freezing to death in the middle of summer- he didn't need to add the risk of spontaneous combustion to the mix. 

Jason let out a hiss at the angry red mark blooming across his torso once he'd sliced through enough of the suit to take a look. "Shit, Babybird-" Tim pulled the emergency blanket around his torso, closing his eyes and willing his hands to keep still, "-here." A heavy, warm weight surrounded his frame. He cracked an eye open and frowned down at the brown leather jacket.

"It's summer- why are you wearing this?" 

"Really? You wanna give me shit about that right now?"

"You could get heatstroke."

"I don't think my thermoregulation is what we should be focused on right now-" Jason huffed, making it clear even through the Hood that he was giving him a look as he zipped it closed. It was warm- of course it was, it was summer and Jason had been patrolling in it-

It smelled like him. He snaked his arms up from his side and tugged the collar up around his chin. 

"O, I'm taking him in. I'll keep you updated on his status-" Jason crouched again as he spoke, gathering him up in his arms and taking off. 

At least it wasn't a princess carry this time. He shut his eyes and focused on staying conscious- Jason would get him somewhere safe. 

Tim comes to in an unfamiliar room surrounded by a familiar smell. Gunpowder and leather and tobacco with an undercurrent of white tea scented soap- Jason. His eyes fluttered open and oh- the warmth surrounding him was Jason's arms, holding him tight to his chest. His own arms had wrapped around his middle, keeping the line of his body firmly against Jason's. 

And God, there was a lot of body there, holding him close and safe and warm-

The noise he made as he interrupted a line of thought he could not afford to go down while pressed so close was mortifying. 

"You were right," Jason murmured once he noticed Tim was awake, "B got Freeze's gun in the lab- it's a new compound. Gets colder and stays cold longer than the last one-" Tim could get used to waking up in Jason's arms being told he was right. That belonged right up there with his top five fantasies about the man- 

"W'happened?" Tim asked Jason's shoulder, not daring to meet his eyes at the moment. 

"Your temp kept goin' down- even after gettin' the frozen part of your suit off. Turns out the compound aerosolizes on impact- your suit was covered in a thin layer." Tim hummed to indicate he was listening and definitely not reciting the periodic table backwards between counting up to ten thousand by prime numbers, "Good thing your suit covers so much of your skin or we'd be having this conversation at the 'Cave." 

"This is much better," Tim murmured before he could stop himself, "sorry if I was a bad patient." He knew from experience he wasn't the most cooperative when largely incoherent- 

Jason laughed, a rumbling and throaty noise he felt as much as heard. He fought back a shudder definitely not related to his temperature. "You cooperated fine- more'n happy to be fed some tea and dragged to bed." 

Oh god, that definitely didn’t sound great- hopefully he wasn't too cooperative. Depending on which point Jason had pulled his own shirt off, it could go either way. 

"I'm probably good to go now, yeah?" He hadn't so much as made a move to extricate himself from his arms- or unwind his own from around him. He should- he should definitely get on that. 

"Just- one thing first," Jason leaned over him to reach for something, partially pressing him into the mattress as he did. Wow, okay- another thing to put up there on the fantasy list. Or another thing to not think about right now. Tim held his breath, watching Jason's hand brush his hair behind his ear and praying the pounding of his heart wasn't as audible as it felt- 

It was all he could do not to jolt away at the cold probe pressing into his ear. 

Oh, he was taking his temperature. That made much more sense than what he’d thought. It was- it's not like he'd expected something else- hoped for, maybe, but- 

Tim scrambled for wherever he had left his dignity, dropping his arms from the loose hold he still had around his waist and moving to grip the thermometer by himself.

"I can do that." Jason let go easily and Tim shut his eyes, focusing on breathing and not the warmth radiating off the man still at his side. Not touching now- much better for his sanity. He was already missing it. 

"Beautiful," Jason hummed over the beep, eyes focused on the readout when Tim risked a glance, "98.9. Your temperature's been stable for an hour. I'll let O. know you're outta the woods-" 

He did sit up at that.

"I've been out for an hour?!" It’d been almost dawn when he’d apprehended Freeze, he was definitely late for work-

"Three, actually." Make that very late for work. Jason grinned, moving to lean against his headboard. Surprisingly nice for a safehouse- and also not the thing to focus on right now. Probably better than letting his eyes follow the drag of the blanket as it slid down his expansive chest, which- 

He tore his eyes away and scrambled out of the bed. Oh thank God, he was still in his own underwear. Small mercies.

"Well- sorry I took up most of your morning. Hopefully I didn't mess anything up too badly-" there were clothes, considerately folded on the dresser that he just decided were his at this point and yanked on. The shirt hung loose, exposing his collarbone and sliding off his shoulder on one side. The less said about the pants and however many times it took to roll them so they wouldn't drag the better. 

Jason was smirking at him like he knew something he didn't and his money was on him saying something stupid in the span of time it took for him to go from disoriented to unconscious. He wasn't keen on sticking around to find out. "Thanks for the assist-" 

"I can give ya a ride home, y'know." Jason said easily, relaxed in the face of Tim's frenetic energy. “You’re gonna have a hell of a time gettin’ a cab to come to this neighborhood, even if it’s daytime.”

"You saved my life," Tim focused on tying the drawstring tight enough to not slide off his hips instead of looking his way, "I can't bum a ride off of you as well." 

"You can if I'm offering. So you have two choices- is The Red Hood or some random guy who looks a lot like a grown up Jason Todd taking you home, Prettybird?"

Tim folded his arms over his chest- "The Red Hood is not dropping me off at my building-"

"Great," Jason beamed a grin his way and crawled out of bed himself. Tim averted his eyes, "-now get outta the way, you took my fuckin' clothes and I need to get dressed." Tim beat a hasty retreat to the living room and debated climbing out the fire escape more than he would be willing to admit. 

His boots were probably destroyed, though. And Jason and him were definitely not the same size- Tim tugged the shirt up over his shoulder again and resigned himself to his fate. 

Jason, of course, only had a bike at this location. And, of course, Tim had no means to get into his apartment in his civilian identity on him since he'd been on patrol. He'd have to be let in.

Tim held on and prayed nobody besides the doorman would see him dropped off in clothes that definitely weren't his by a man who they'd fit very nicely. He was a relatively boring public figure- attempted assassinations or kidnappings notwithstanding- and liked to keep it that way. Jason would be a very good way to get into a lot of trouble- for either of his identities. 

With that in mind, he slid from the seat and kept his thanks brief, slipping past the doorman with a nod and not stopping until the penthouse doors slid shut behind him.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. Damsel seemed pretty damn fitting at this point.  

[bookofmirth]

Hi

I'm not up to date with all the drama in this fandom bc i tend to scroll past it. But being a reader of the books before I landed in these fandoms, I'm utterly shocked about how people treat eachother.

I'm very neutral on this stupid ship war going on. I tend to fall more for Elriel. But I understand everyone's opinion. I used to read all the book analysis, but now it just seems so exhausting. I get that people love books and ship different people. That's normal, everyone has different taste etc i'm just here trying to understand why we need to bring other human beings down in order to push our own narrative.

Since when is it okay to do that???? Can't we have a normal conversation without sending death treats?

I normally don't really respond to anything that involves drama. But these last couples of months have gotten me to dislike the books more and more solely because of these, may I call them blandly, horrible people.

And i'm very sad to have to admit that i'm also getting sick of the art of the multiple ships. Which that's horrible because I love what all these amazing artists create. But the hate they receive and the comments just make me hate it all more,this whole fandom with all these toxic people ruining it for me personally.

Can't we all just agree that we like these books, and respect eachother as human beings, no matter what everyone else thinks? And maybe wait and see what the author writes? In the end it are still her books and she will have the final say in everything.

I wish SJM would release the next book sooner so all this hate would stop, then again i don't know if it will stop. They will likely continue and probably bother SJM too...

Thank you for listening to me ranting, you always seem very nice to people with different opinions, so I thought i might as well rant a bit too.

Have a lovely day!!

Hello! Thank you for this message! I think it's really helpful for people to see because they can see the impact of the things they are doing and saying in the fandom. There are a lot of people who feel comfortable being vocal in the fandom, but I gotta say, if I were just joining now, I'm not sure that would be me. I wonder how many people walk in, take a look around, and walk the fuck back out. I probably would.

I got on my soap box a little bit because I was thinking about some of the things you've said!

I was just talking with some friends, some of whom I've been in the fandom with since 2017, some who are newer. And we all 1000% agree with you. It's so, so frustrating that the fandom has gotten so nasty to the point where we've become so separated from each other that we can't have a single civil conversation. Where people of color don't feel safe, and where a lot of the fandom doesn't even seem to care about that.

When I first joined the fandom, there were definitely people who shipped one way and people who shipped another, but we were still able to have conversations with each other. There would be these really, really long posts that were chains of people commenting on posts and reblogging, then someone adding on their thoughts, then op would respond, etc. Yeah, the posts were super long to scroll through, but there was so much engagement, ya know? And it was genuine, too. We could disagree or say "hey OP I like this point, but have you thought of X?" And it was great! (I even have a tag for it, #long post tag, because I once got an anon who was annoyed at how long my conversations with people would be 💀so I made that tag for people who wanted to block those posts.)

I'm not going to pretend it was perfect - there were definitely people I didn't get along with. But that wasn't a fandom thing, that was just a personality thing. And I never in a million years expected those people to fly off the handle and start attacking me anon, or to ss my posts to make fun of elsewhere. Now, that's a constant fear hanging over everyone's heads.

It has created an extreme echo chamber. I would genuinely like having those old fandom discussions where people would comment - in the open, on reblogs - and then we could all engage in that discussion in public. Now, all of that discussion happens in private, in groupchats and Discord. And don't get me wrong, Discord is super fun. But it also means that 1) people who aren't in those groups have no idea wtf is going on when we vague, although I try not to do that anyway, and 2) when people are in those groups they egg each other on to be worse and worse. Worse than they would have been if they were on their own and didn't feel like they had a group of people there to support their asshole behavior. tbh, I have to check myself sometimes and think, "would I do this if I hadn't just gotten into a rant conversation with friends on Discord?"

And what you said about fan art, it's so frustrating!!! Since when did fan art become a battle ground??? Since when did the appearance of fan art = a win for one ship or the other?? Why can't the comments of those arts ever just be nice and appreciative of the work someone has put into it? Honestly, it makes me paranoid to write fanfic, too! I mean, is that next???

I totally agree with you that we should be able to respect each other as people. We used to be able to do that. I hate to admit it, but I have so many people blocked now because I just don't trust them. I don't trust them to be civil, I don't trust them to be able to see my posts, I don't trust them to even read what I've written without misconstruing everything I've said.

I'm not sure if people realize that there is a big difference between this:

I don't like X ship

And this:

People who like X ship are delusional

The first one is okay! It's normal! Like you said, we all have feelings and interpretations and stuff we would prefer to see or not see!

The second one, not okay! Stop insulting people, people!!!!

The idea of engaging in a normal, healthy debate with a huge portion of the fandom is such a foreign concept to me at this point, and it never used to be. There could be a lot of reasons for this. And I always try to avoid pointing fingers because I know that not everyone is like that, though I'm sure I have slipped into that from time to time.

I think it would help if we stop seeing each other as a gwynriel or an elucien or an elriel, and start seeing each other as individuals. When acosf first came out, I started noticing a trend where people would send me asks and write them as if they were writing to every single person who ships elucien, or as if they were writing to every single person who holds a certain opinion about Azriel. It was really confusing at first, and I'm gonna request that the fandom stop doing that altogether, to everyone. If you want to engage with someone, engage with that person, not your idea of who they are and what they think.

I'm down for conversations where we talk about the series and what might come next as possibilities, because that's all this is, so far. Anyone who says that "X thing will never happen" is making some bold claims, and it's really off-putting to people who know that that's not why we are here. It's not a contest where we "win" canon. It's fandom, where we talk about what we like and what we don't like and what we want and cross our fingers and hope.

EDIT I wanted to add on one thing - a lot of this behavior is incredibly shocking and disgusting and I think that we, as a fandom, need to be better at 1) calling it out, and 2) not assuming that whoever did X horrible thing represents all people from that corner of the fandom.

I hope that you have a lovely day as well! And that the fandom doesn't get you too down. @heleencollier

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hi there! First off thank you for all of the hard work you have put into this page it’s so appreciated. I hope you enjoy yourselves while you enjoy so much deserved time away. Second, I’m new to your page (great timing lol) and was wondering what tag would the trope of second in command stiles fall under on your tags page? It’s my fav trope I’m quite a hoe for it. Thank you!!

BITCH ME TOO, BUT TBH I’M A SUCKER FOR STILES IN POWER PERIOD. Also, we don’t have a tag for that, but I’ll hit you up right now!

-Letta

Don't threaten the Hale pack by Bex_carma 

(1/1 | 982 | Teen | Sterek)

"Stiles stomach is coiled in anger. He knows that this alpha is a joke, that the pack snarling behind him is weak and cocky and disjointed, much like they were in the beginning, but he is still itching for blood, just because they have dared to challenge his family, his alpha."

Suddenly You're Standing Still by adara

(1/1 | 1,436 | Teen | Sterek)

It’s been a long night. Nope, that’s inaccurate. It’s been a long year but they’re all okay and in the end that’s what counts. Right?

Or that fic in which the pack defeats the latest big bad in a series of big bads, Stiles is happy, Derek is sad, and Stiles knows just how to fix a sad Derek.

torch song by spiekiel

(1/1 | 1,851 | Teen | Sterek)

Stiles knows Derek likes herbal tea, and he thinks that it’s a ridiculous thing to like, but he brings it to him anyways. Derek has never been in so deep in his life.

Scott McCall's I Saw It First by WhereDestiniesMeet17 (orphan_account) 

(1/1 | 5,875 | Teen | Steter)

It's as he's drifting off to sleep that he has revelation number three. They have no fucking idea. Not a clue that they are in love, much less with each other. Scott laughs so hard that he wakes not only himself, but half the pack.

-

Or the one where Scott figures out that Stiles and Peter are in love way before they do. Meanwhile, they have monsters to take care of.

The Devil You Know by Triangulum

(1/1 | 6,226 | Mature | Steter)

Hell is busy and Peter is understaffed. There are too many evil people being sent down below and there are only so many demons Peter has to torture them with. He needs to reorganize. They don't utilize group torture nearly as much as they should. Stiles probably has some ideas on that.

Or

Peter is King of Hell, Stiles is his second in command, and Talia summons them for a favor.

Beware of Sharp Memories by WhereDestiniesMeet17 (orphan_account)

(1/1 | 9,334 | Mature | Steter)

She smooths his hair back, nodding. "Not everyone remembers the things we do," she repeats.

-

Stiles is born able to remember all his past lives. After Claudia dies, he tries to forget all about his abilities. This makes things worse and better.

To Find Your Home by adara

(1/1 | 14,905 | Teen | Sterek)

The wind shifts just as he is is about to lay into the trespassers for disturbing this place, this private property, the place where Laura took her last breaths. Alone. The place he had come to look for his own clues in the daylight, to say goodbye to the only family he really had left. His breath catches for an altogether different reason when the shifted breeze reaches him. He stops thinking about Laura for a moment as his brain simply shuts down, taking in the sight of his mate before him.

Stiles Stilinski and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day (Well Maybe It Wasn’t That Bad…) by thegirlgrey

(1/1 | 22,998 | Mature | Sterek)

“Hey Derek? Are you absolutely sure that Beacon Hills isn’t sitting on a Hell Mouth?”

And If I Die Before I Wake by consciousness_streaming

(6/6 | 60,410 | Explicit | Sterek)

When Stiles wakes up on his eighteenth birthday from a chaste dream about Derek Hale he doesn't think it's a big deal. But when he wakes up the next few days to the same dream, he knows something is going on. And he's going to get to the bottom of it. Once is an incident, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. More than three is just torture.

This Was How Legends Were Made by Delta_Immortal

(8/8 | 108,501 | Explicit | Sterek)

Caught between the Hales and the Argents in their war, Stiles finds himself a slave of the great Hale pack. Stiles spends each day working hard, hoping to earn his freedom and see his sick father. It also seems each day he’s capturing more and more attention from Derek, the young Hale lord. Stiles tells himself it’s mostly because Derek is merely trying to figure out how to send the annoying, useless slave away- not because of affection, despite the tales coming from the rumor mill.

It doesn’t matter what Derek's intentions are. Stiles can’t bother with love right now. He's got to keep his head down and survive long enough to keep his promise to Kate Argent. After all, she's promised to keep his father safe.

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: The Assassin’s Blade, Ch 1-2

Book: The Assassin’s Blade

Author: Sarah J. Mass

I chose to do this book because I’ve barely seen anyone critical of T0G talk about this book. I remember relatively liking it when I first read it, but I also liked Q0S on my first reading, so well. You all know how well that turned out. So let’s dive back into hell!

First, I wanna point out the cover of this novel uses the exact same model as T0G for Celery but throws a shitty purple cloak over her.

That’s totally not lazy at all! And it totally doesn’t add to my suspicion that The Ass’s Blade was rushed out to make a quick buck, nope nope! Also I only wish I could have a thigh gape that big, holy smokes Celery, eat some carbs.

This prequel book is made up of several short novellas before the events of the first book. The first one is Celery and the Pirate Lord.

Seated in the council room of the Assassins’ Keep, Celaena Sardothien leaned back in her chair. “It’s past four in the morning,” she said, adjusting the folds of her crimson silk dressing gown and crossing her bare legs beneath the wooden table. “This had better be important.”

Oh god, we’re back when Alien was Celery.... Well, tbh, they’re one in the same, Alien just splooges about herself more often. Who knows, maybe this book will change that.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t been reading all night, you wouldn’t be so exhausted,” snapped the young man seated across from her.

Love how Celery is a supposed badass uhmayzing assassin, but she stays up all night reading as opposed to... training? Getting some rest for missions? Anything that might not hinder you in your job?

[Celaena] ignored him and studied the four other people assembled in the underground chamber. All male, all far older than she, and all refusing to meet her stare.

Jesus Christ, it begins already. Of course they’re all older than her. Normally this wouldn’t bother me all that much but it’s SJM, so I’m immediately suspicious. Also Sam is in the room and he’s just barely a year older than her, how is that “far older than her”???

When Arobynn summoned you, you didn’t keep him waiting. Thankfully, her sleepwear was as exquisite as her daytime wardrobe—and cost nearly as much. Still, being sixteen in a room with men made her keep an eye on the neckline of her robe. Her beauty was a weapon—one she kept honed—but it could also be a vulnerability.

Just... this entire paragraph. I wish SJM would stop playing into the notion all men are dangerous rabid beasts who can’t control themselves and just wanna rape every woman they lay eyes on. It doesn’t even make sense here, Celery knows all of them and aside from creeper Arobynn, none of them have ever sexually harassed her so why is she suspicious? And gotta that lowkey sexism implying that all beautiful women are delicate flowers who can’t look after themselves.

“Gregori’s been caught,” Arobynn finally said. Well, that would explain one person missing from this meeting. “His mission was a trap. He’s now being held in the royal dungeons.” Celaena sighed through her nose. This was why she’d been awakened? She tapped a slippered foot on the marble floor. “Then kill him,” she said.

Man, Celery is... actually acting like an assassin? I mean, when you’re an assassin, the mission takes top priority. I wonder how long that’ll last, though.

She’d never liked Gregori, anyway. When she was ten, she’d fed his horse a bag of candy and he’d thrown a dagger at her head for it.

I mean yeah, that’s really sadistic. She’s a literal child and he tried to murder her? Granted SJM destroys what little sympathy I have by then explaining Celery caught the dagger and threw it back, giving him a scar on his cheek. Even when she was a literal child, she was the best assassin evah. Gag me.

“Kill Gregori?” demanded Sam, the young man seated at Arobynn’s left—a place that usually went to Ben, Arobynn’s second-in-command. Celaena knew very well what Sam Cortland thought of her.

Sam is the only other young character in the room so yeah, obviously he’s gonna be her love interest for this book. Henceforth, they do nothing but bicker for the first 70% of the novel.

The location of the Assassins’ Keep was a well-guarded secret, one she’d been trained to keep until her last breath. But even if she didn’t, no one was likely to believe that an elegant manor house on a very respectable street in Rifthold was home to some of the greatest assassins in the world. What better place to hide than in the middle of the capital city?

So you’re saying literally no one questions who owns this huge fancy elegant place? That the king never goes, “Huh, someone who has wealth to rival mine has a huge ass manor right in the middle of the Capital” and he never checks it out? Nobody questions it? Okay.... if you say so......

The firelight cast the smooth, elegant panes of Sam’s face into light and shadow—a face, she’d been told, that could have earned him a fortune if he’d followed in his mother ’s footsteps.

Considering that his mother is a courtesan...... gross. Stop sexualising your characters so much, please.

Turns out, Ben was also killed. Oh no, not the guy we literally never met before! Celery is pissy that they didn’t retrieve his body.

“If we’d grabbed his body,” Sam said, refusing to back down from her glare, “it would have led them right to the Keep.” “You’re assassins,” she growled at him. “You’re supposed to be able to retrieve a body without being seen.”

I mean, you should be able to retrieve a body given that you’re assassins, but eh, who am I kidding, I care little for the conflict of Retrieving Ben’s Body.

Since Arobynn is apparently the only mature guy in the room, he tells them to stop acting like children.

Sam kept his gaze on the floor as he strode to the far side of the council room. Crossing his arms, he leaned against the stone wall. She could still reach him - one flick of her wrist, and his throat would spout blood.

Holy shit, Celery, that’s murder!!! Like Sam just disagreed with you, that doesn’t warrant you imagining yourself slitting his throat!!! How the fuck are they gonna end up in love I have no idea.

Celery throws a pity party for herself and stomps off to retrieve Ben’s body. Sadly, she does not perish while doing so, and Chapter 2 begins.

Two months, three days, and about eight hours later, the clock on the mantel chimed noon. Captain Rolfe, Lord of the Pirates, was late.

Given that the actual Pirate Lord story begins here, the first chapter was, you guessed it, utterly pointless and could’ve been cut altogether.

Celaena, concealed behind a far-too-stuffy black cloak, tunic, and ebony mask, rose from her seat before the Pirate Lord’s desk. How dare he make her wait!

How dare the entire world not bend over backwards to accommodate Celery and her agenda! Fuck you.

“With every minute he makes us wait,” Celaena said to Sam, the mask making her words low and soft, “I’m adding an extra ten gold pieces to his debt.” Sam, who didn’t wear a mask over his handsome features, crossed his arms and scowled.

???? So why is she wearing a mask??? Does she have a pimple she’s embarrassed of??? Why???

Neither of them had been particularly happy when Arobynn announced that Sam would be sent to the Dead Islands with Celaena. Especially when Ben’s body—which Celaena had retrieved—had barely been in the ground for two months.

So how did she, a skinny sixteen year old, possibly carry a thirty year old man’s body and do it discreetly enough when the place was supposedly swarming with royal guards? How convenient that the first chapter ended so SJM didn’t have to explain this.

She raised her brows, but realized he couldn’t see. The mask and clothes were a necessary precaution, one that made it far easier to protect her identity. In fact, all of Arobynn’s assassins had been sworn to secrecy about who she was—under the threat of endless torture and eventual death.

Wait a minute, what the fuck? What the fuck... why...

Okay, I’m gonna do lay down for a bit, scream out my frustrations, the like. I’ll be back in a bit.

Alright.

What the fuck?? So you’re telling me she’s a famous assassin who uses her real name?? That her face is so recognizable she has to wear a mask??

THAT’S NOT HOW ASSASSINS WORK!!! The whole point of being an assassin is that nobody knows your real identity, you’re supposed to hide your name so you don’t get caught!!!! If you’re a famous assassin, you’re probably known by like, a cool nickname that isn’t your fucking name!! This makes no goddamn sense!! My assassin rebel leader from my dinosaur WIP is facepalming at what a dumbass Celery is.

All that the world knew about Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s Assassin, was that she was female. And she wanted to keep it that way. How else would she be able to stroll the broad avenues of Rifthold or infiltrate grand parties by posing as foreign nobility?

So is her face a giveaway or not?? She can’t show Rolfe her face, but she can stroll down the street and go to parties without concealing her face? This is beyond fucking stupid.

Rolfe shows up, and Sam demonstrates that he’s the only character with a brain in this novel.

Sam stood, bowing his head slightly. “Sam Cortland,” he said by way of greeting.

Meanwhile, Celery just fires sarcastic and ‘witty” quips one after another.

Rolfe’s eyes gleamed with the challenge. “You’re in my city, and on my island.” Only a handbreadth separated them. “You’re not in any position to give me orders.”

Slay her Rolfe!!! I stanned Rolfe in E0S, I’m gonna stan him here, because he is as sick of Celery’s bullshit as I am.

With two deft flicks of his wrist, Rolfe sliced open both envelopes with a letter-knife she somehow hadn’t spotted. How had she missed it? A fool’s mistake.

Lmfao, what a noob. Maybe if Celery wasn’t busy stuffing her nose up her own ass, she’d notice important shit like that.

Rolfe reads the letter which details Arobynn asking Rolfe for some slaves, and at least Celery has the decency to be disgusted by that. Strange that she was the capacity to care about someone other than herself, but I’ll at least give her points for that.

[Rolfe] pointed toward the door. “I have two rooms prepared for you.” “We only need one,” she interrupted. Rolfe’s eyebrows rose suggestively.

I mean, gross to sexualise your characters even more, but Celery does realize saying they only need one room does sort of imply she and Sam are a thing, right? Like she gets so pissy that Rolfe interprets it that way, but like, it does lowkey sound like they’re an item therefore she doesn’t mind sharing a bed with him? Whatever, who cares.

Celery wants to punch Rolfe in the dick but doesn’t and the chapter ends. So begins another tidal wave of absolute bullshit.....