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pandora-writes-one-piece · 4 months ago

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The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 8

Source for pic

Trouble 8

Word Count: 5093

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Reader in a terror-like state; Dead Animals Mentioned; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I am DYING to write the next chapter... just you wait...! Now I need to know each and every one of your thoughts on this, please!

Masterlist

“Roronoa.”

“Cap.” Zoro matches his long strides with Mihawk’s. The hospital beeps sound faintly from the rooms they pass, and nurses hasten their steps to answer some wailing woman two rooms down.

Mihawk stops abruptly in front of a room, and his amber gaze pierces Zoro's eye. “I know you just got back and barely had any time to rest, but I thought you might want to be present when we interrogate him.”

Zoro nods. It's another one. Another man has shown up with missing limbs and a note. A crime of passion seems far-fetched now. This case and Lucci’s are definitely related. They're too similar to be a coincidence.

Besides, Zoro doesn't really believe in coincidences.

“Has someone talked to him already?” Zoro asks as Mihawk’s hand sets on the handle.

“The doctors haven't let anyone near him yet. And they say he's heavily sedated, so we might not get much out of him for now.” Mihawk is directly involved now, and that alone tells Zoro they are about to treat this case with the level of respect it demands.

“After you, Cap.”

The door swings back as Mihawk pushes it, and both men stand near the hospital bed. Zoro recognizes the man immediately. He's the store clerk of the grocery shop he usually goes to.

“Hello. I'm Captain Dracule Mihawk, and this is Officer Roronoa. The nurses told you we were coming, right?”

The man nods, his eyes glazed over and out of focus. Then he raises his arm as if he’s going to run his fingers through his hair, but groans when his stump hits his forehead instead.

“I have nothing to say.” He sounds slightly frightened as his voice wavers, with shaky breaths escaping his lips.

Mihawk ignores him, a scowl forming on his lips. “What do you remember about the person who did this to you?”

“I have nothing to say.”

“Any detail is important. Height, build, voice, distinctive features–”

“I have nothing to say!”

Mihawk inhales deeply. Zoro knows his Captain is a very patient man. If he were the one doing the interrogating, he would be shaking the man by his collar right now. Couldn't the man see they were trying to help him?

“So you were threatened.” It's not a question. It's a mere statement. The man's eyes fill with tears as his chin trembles slightly.

“What am I supposed to do now? My hands were my job. I can't do my job without my hands!” He sobs, his shoulders sagging. “Not just my job… How am I supposed to live like this? He ruined everything.”

Mihawk places one hand on his shoulder, his hawk-like gaze losing a bit of its edge for a moment. “It's not all lost. You're alive, and that's more than many people can say. We're trying to help you. We want to catch the bastard who did this before they can hurt somebody else. But we need your help to do it.”

The man closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Then he starts talking. He says that it was a man who did this - massive, bulky and really tall. He had a mask covering his face, a hoodie and gloves on, so any detailed description is off the table. He also had a rough voice and immediately threatened him if he shared the details of what happened with the cops.

“After he… when he… he said to never touch what's his again. I didn't understand what he meant. I was in shock, I guess.” He sighs, his head falling back. “Can you call the nurse? I can't take this pain anymore.”

Mihawk nods, and Zoro turns, ready to leave, but the man isn't done yet. “He had maniacal red eyes and seemed amused by my suffering.”

The clap of the notebook his Captain had been scribbling on signals they’re done, so Zoro takes another step towards the door while Mihawk thanks the man for his help. But when they’re halfway through the door, he speaks again.

“I should've listened to her. She said someone was coming for me.”

Her?

“Who are you talking about?” Zoro speaks for the first time, his stomach churning with unease.

The man shrugs and shakes his head, his chin trembling again as, most likely, the threats the criminal spewed fill his mind. “It's nothing. Nothing. Forget it.”

“Who is she?”

“I said fucking forget it. Leave me alone, I'm done!”

Zoro grits his teeth, his instincts driving him towards the hospital bed, ready to drill the man with more questions until they get what they came for. But Mihawk’s firm grasp on his shoulder stops him.

“We'll leave. Rest. Thank you.” They both leave the room, and Zoro growls as soon as the door clicks behind him.

“He knows more!”

“And you should know when to stop. Let him rest. We'll try again another day.” Mihawk starts walking, and Zoro follows, staying silent when his Captain asks the nurses to check on the man. “I have a feeling this case is just getting started, anyway.”

Mihawk’s foreboding words echo in Zoro's brain all the way back to his car. The creep who's doing this is leaving him uneasy. A feeling of dread tightens his stomach and constricts his heart.

All he can think about is keeping you safe, and he can't exactly pinpoint why.

Though it's quite a coincidence that Rob Lucci ogles you and gets his eyes removed, and the store clerk hits on you and gets his hands chopped. Quite a coincidence indeed.

And Zoro doesn't fucking believe in coincidences.

-*-

You take your car to Robin's, even though Nami offered to pick you up, knowing how unreliable your old car can be sometimes, because you want to avoid having Zoro bring you home. And, gosh, you want nothing more than to spend time with Zoro, but if you can help it, you'll do whatever’s in your power to keep him from touching you.

No matter how hard that might be.

You don't even know how you’re going to get into the right mood to party with your friends. They all have so much energy, and you… don't. At least not right now.

Briefly, you wonder how many times you’re going to use the ‘I'm just tired’ excuse today, but a buzz from your phone distracts your thoughts.

Unknown: Remember, Kitten, no one touches what's mine. Unknown: Behave, be a good girl for me, and I won't be upset. Unknown: I'm always watching.

You stuff your phone into your pocket before forcing a fake smile onto your lips and buzzing the doorbell of Robin's apartment. She opens the door with a smile that quickly turns into a frown upon setting her eyes on you.

Not even all the makeup in the world can disguise the massive bags beneath your eyes, the redness in them, or the frayed look. And even if it could, Robin is your most perceptive friend.

Still, she doesn't address the matter directly. She simply gives you a tighter hug than usual and whispers in your ear: “You need anything, honey? I won't ask questions, even if it's murder.”

The laugh that bubbles up in your throat is completely genuine, and you feel a little lighter. “Oh, trust me, Robin, I know you're the one to ask! But I'm okay, just tired, I guess.”

That's one.

“Are you sure? You know I know ways to get rid of a body without getting caught…”

“Nico, I'm right here. I have no qualms about taking your ass to jail, you know?”

He's teasing Robin, but his piercing eye is set on you and you have to bite your lower lip to stifle a sob. Zoro's mere presence exudes safety and all you want to do is rush into his arms and forget everything. Forget about feeling scared, trapped, helpless and useless.

He's right there.

“Hey, Troublemaker, making trouble?” Robin smirks, shoves Zoro playfully, and returns to her home, leaving you two alone in the doorway, where Zoro leans casually. You notice his piercing gaze assessing the dishevelled state of your hair, the lack of care with your chosen outfit, the way your hands fidget with the hem of your jacket, and surely the way your lip trembles.

“Hi. Not today, Zo.” You give him a soft smile along with your chill greeting, but the slight buzz in your pocket alerts you, and reminds you not to push it, so you quickly erase it from your face.

Zoro's eye widens, and he crosses his arms as his brows scrunch. “Is everything–”

“I'm just tired.”

Two.

“See you inside, I’ve got to go greet our friends.” You try to get past him, but he stretches his arm across the doorway and blocks your path. You inhale a quick breath and are inundated with the smell of steel and his musky scent. Safety. Protection.

… Home…

“Hey. Talk to me.” He mumbles, reaching and tilting your chin slightly so he can look into your eyes. “You look like you haven't slept in days.”

Bzzzz.

You shake your head both as an answer to his question and to deflect his touch. A quick step away brings your back against the doorway, his arm right next to your face and he leans in, seeing you're trapped.

“Yeah, I know. Too much farm work, I guess. I'm just–”

“Tired?” That's three.

You nod. Bzzzz. Then you flinch, and Zoro arches his eyebrow.

“Talk inside, okay?” And before he says anything else, or does anything else - because it's starting to prove impossible to stay away from him - you duck beneath his arm and scurry inside.

-*-

What the royal fuck?

Tired? That's not tired. That's exhausted. You look like you've been through hell and back and, apparently, you don't want to tell him why.

What's going on?

Zoro follows you inside and closes the door behind him. He watches as you force a smile on your usually cheery face and greet the rest of your friends. Then he watches as Luffy hugs you tighter than usual - probably noticing your frayed state - and watches you push him away, your hand flying to your pocket.

You stare at your phone, eyes darting back and forth - reading - then you close them shut with an almost imperceptible shudder, and put the phone back in your pocket.

What is going on?

He watches you when you think nobody's watching, and he sees the way your hands tremble as you reach for a sandwich you only nibble on, giving the rest to Luffy. He sees the way your eyes dart around the room and the way you avoid windows, preferring to sit in the middle of the living room and on the floor.

He's especially interested in whoever is texting you, because you can't seem to let go of your phone. Though the texts don't make you happy. They seem to upset you.

He also sees the way you avoid the Cook and all his flamboyant attention. He realises that your actions are so thought out, so careful, that you're not even your clumsy self. He sees you struggle, trying to smile and to engage.

To pretend.

But mostly, he watches as you actively avoid him all night.

Something is definitely going on. And he's going to find out what.

-*-

Unknown: The Vinsmoke is too flirty. Get away from him. Unknown: You're doing so well, Kitten. Unknown: Avoiding the cop all night. Look how well-behaved you are.

The hundredth involuntary shudder assaults you. You're trying. By all that is sacred, you really are trying to be good.

But you feel watched. Not that usual uneasiness that comes from the creep watching you, no. Sadly, you're already getting used to that dreadful feeling. What you're feeling right now is the piercing gaze of Zoro. He's watching your every move. And all you want to do is gravitate towards him.

He's right there.

With a heavy sigh, you collect the empty plate of the food you never touched - thank God for Luffy's unending appetite - and go to the kitchen to set it in the sink.

“Need help?” Fuck. You just saw Zoro snoozing on the couch. Does he have superpowers or something? Now you're both alone.

Your heart starts hammering away in your chest as you rinse the plate and set it aside. With a deep, steadying breath, you turn, holding a dish towel in your hands as you dry them. “Thanks, Zoro, I'm all done.”

The smile plastered on your lips feels as fake as the little plastic birds Robin has adorning her windowsill. But you try to sell it as you drop the dish towel and start to move to get away from him as fast as you can.

“So you're running from me again?”

Shit.

“What are you talking about, Zo? I'm just heading back, you can come too if you want.” But he doesn't move. And he's blocking the door.

“Stop lying to me, Trouble. You've been avoiding me all night.” Does he actually sound hurt? “What's going on?”

“I'm just–”

“Don't even think about giving me that crap about being tired. You're not tired. You look like hell.”

Bzzzz.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Gee, thanks for the pep talk.” You try to make light of the matter and get past him to go to the living room, but he grabs your shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

You flinch and shudder, your eyes closing with a gasp.

“Stop. Talk to me.” You sigh and close your eyes. You want to tell him everything. “Are you still getting those weird gifts? Is that what this is?”

Yes! And so much more! “No, Zoro. The gifts stopped, the person must have given up.” You sigh, the lies coming easier than you would’ve liked them to. “I'm tired. I hate being alone in that big house, and I miss my dad. That's all.” Some truth mixed with the lies might just help you sell them.

He nods, and his hands squeeze tighter. “I get that. But that doesn't explain why you're running from me.” Bzzzz. You flinch again and roll your shoulders, trying to evade Zoro's touch because you know that's what the texts are sure to be about. “See? Why are you avoiding my touch, Trouble?”

Shit!

“I'm not.” Wow. That lie wouldn't fool a child.

“Prove it.” What? You raise your brow, lips curling into a dumbfounded expression. “Let’s finish what we started. Let me kiss you.”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

No. God, no.

You want to. You want this nightmare to come to an end. You want Zoro to kiss you, and to hold you, but mostly, you want him to protect you. To help you crawl out of this miserable rut you got yourself into.

But you can't. Because you know the texts that await you are all threats to his safety, and you can't risk him. You just can't.

“I… Zo… I'm not feeling well, another time, maybe.”

You can't bear the hurt in his eyes so you look down, but he doesn't relent. “I thought… I thought we had something. I thought you wanted…” His hands cup your cheeks and he forces you to look at him. “This.”

You do. God you want all of it.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

Zoro leans slowly. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Your throat feels dry, your phone doesn't stop vibrating and there's not enough air in the world to fill your lungs.

“I did. Before.” You leave it at that and he's so surprised by your answer that you take advantage and slip past him, trying to hold back sobs as you quickly make up an excuse to your friends and leave.

You shouldn't have come. This was a mistake. You just managed to hurt Zoro.

Fuck.

-*-

You don't quite know how you made it home, but you did. Tears kept streaming down your face, and you blinked them away furiously, but reaching home and locking the door behind you doesn't bring the sense of safety it used to.

Everything is tainted. You don't feel safe anywhere.

The phone burns a hole in your pocket with its incessant buzzing. Someone called you on your way over, and you bet it was Zoro. You don't dare to look, as you already know there are dozens of texts from your interactions with Zoro tonight.

He almost kissed you, and he was so adamant in trying to find out what’s wrong with you. Your friends noticed something was up, but the tired excuse worked perfectly with them, whereas with Zoro…

He didn't buy it for an instant.

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz.

“God, just stop!” You screech, your hand clawing at your pocket as you take the device out and turn it off without even glimpsing at any text. You place it with force against the kitchen table and slump in the chair, holding your head tight as sobs claw up your throat.

You're tired, you are. But it's not just physical. What he's doing to you is much worse. It's torture, and it’s bringing you closer and closer to despair.

A melodic sound comes from your phone, and you hold your breath, removing your hands from your face as you stare at the bright screen. It turned itself on.

What?

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Kitten, don't shut me out. You don't want to anger me any more than you already have.

You stand up abruptly and widen your eyes, a hand pressing against your mouth as a way to trap the whimper that threatens to escape. Then you turn off the phone again, setting it back down on the table as if the thing were on fire.

You can count the time passing by the accelerated thrums of your heart hammering against your chest.

The melodic sound chimes again, and you freeze as the screen lights up once more. Its obnoxious light fills up the room as the harbinger of doom itself.

Bzzzz.

Unknown: That’s strike two, and I’m not amused. Don’t shut me out. I’m not–

This time you turn it off and shove it inside the kitchen junk drawer, amidst corks and can openers, hoping against all hope that this nightmare comes to an end, because how can it continue if you push it out of your sight?

Your stare burns a hole in the drawer, but you don’t hear the melodic jingle of the phone turning on, nor any buzzing. Is it… over?

The sounds of the old house seem amplified as you train your ears on any noise.

Can it actually be this simple?

BANG!

Your scream comes as unannounced as the loud bang that rattled the front door. Grasping the edge of the table with all your might, since your legs gave out from under you, you stare in the direction of the front door.

Then you hear it, clear as day, loud as if it were right next to you: footsteps. Heavy footsteps thump on the porch in a slow, taunting march. It’s him. It has to be him. You feel all your limbs locking up, constricting your breaths.

BANG!

This time, you press both your hands against your mouth and stifle your cry. He’s right there. Your breath comes out of your nose in loud, rapid bursts, and your head feels light. It’s over. He’s come for you and there’s no escape.

The footsteps cease, and you take a deep breath as tears drip down your face. Did he give up?

You're not quite sure how you get the courage to do it, but you approach the front door with very light steps, avoiding the creaking boards of the floor and standing on your tiptoes to try and see through the peephole, even though you’re already dreading what you’ll find once you press your eye against it.

Darkness.

You can’t see anything. Should you turn the porch light on?

BANG!

This time, you can’t contain your loud cry as you fall to the floor. The door rattled right against your touch and your stomach tightens at the thought that there’s just a door separating you from whoever is out there.

You crawl backwards, deranged sobs leaving you as you curse and plead, not quite sure what to do.

And then, as your back hits the kitchen counter, you know what he wants.

Getting up on shaky legs, you can still hear the pacing outside the door. You’re terrified. Fear makes your limbs congeal, and you shake your hands to try and stop them from trembling. Your fingers fumble with the drawer, and you have to clasp your phone with both hands as you turn it on.

The melodic ring resounds all around the kitchen, and, as soon as the phone is connected, it buzzes.

Unknown: Good girl.

-*-

Another restless, sleepless night.

You can’t shake away the fear that he left behind, no matter how much he assured you over texts that he would never hurt you, he just needed to make you learn. You’re a fast learner, he said. You can be good, he added. You just need to be reminded of this now and again.

He kept calling you his, kept saying you’d learn to love him, to call for him, to need him.

You were so shaken up from the whole ordeal that you threw up whatever meager food you had managed to eat at Robin’s. Then, you locked yourself in your room again, trying to drown out any thoughts of heavy footsteps or threats.

There was no rest or sleep.

Just paralysing fear and helplessness. You can’t see a way out of this hell. Maybe there really is no escape.

-*-

Saturday comes and goes, and though your friends call, you ignore them.

Except Zoro doesn’t relent. He calls, and you don’t pick up, so he calls again, and again, and again until you do.

“I was about to march in there and see if you were alive.” He’s growling, but he still sounds a bit hurt, and you grimace, making yourself smaller against your couch. You’re sitting on the floor, somehow it seems more secluded, safer.

“I’m fine, I’m just sick. I think I caught a cold.” You cough a bit, trying to sell the lie, but at this point, you doubt Zoro actually believes anything you say.

“Right. So, you’re not coming with us to the movies today?”

“Not today.” You sound defeated, exhausted, shaken, and scared. You hope he just thinks you’re as sick as you claim to be.

“What if I go to you and we watch a movie at your house? I can get the Cook to make you some soup.”

A whimper almost leaves your lips, and you have to take a few extra seconds to compose yourself before answering.

“It’s okay, Zo. I’m fine. I just need some rest, okay? See you soon.”

And you hang up on him, like the coward you are.

Bzzzz.

Unknown: Kitten, that’s enough indulging the cop. You don’t get to answer any more of his calls. He needs to know you don’t want anything to do with him.

You read the text and drop the phone on the floor next to you, your head falling against your knees as you hug them tighter. You’re numb to all of this now. He controls you, he owns you, and there’s no escape.

You’re trapped in your own home, cornered in your own life.

You’re barely surviving. You’re just existing.

And it’s painful as hell.

-*-

The week goes by, and you fall into a numb routine. You get up, throw away whatever gift is waiting for you - sometimes they’re fresh flowers or candy, other times there are dead animals or crumpled flowers - you feed the farm animals, then try to eat something.

The afternoon is spent cowering in fear until you do the rest of the chores. Then, you try to eat something else for dinner after you lock up every inch of the house. You curl into bed in your locked bedroom, cry yourself to exhaustion, and start all over again the next day.

The stalker’s texts are relentless. He praises you and your beauty, your behaviour, and how good you are to him. Then, sometimes, he says you still need to learn, to accept that you’re his, and to understand you will love him back eventually.

And then, there’s Zoro.

He calls, he texts, and he comes knocking at your door. Every single day.

You pretend not to be home when he comes, even though he says he knows you’re home, but you don’t open the door or say anything. And then, he always gets a call from the station, something urgent that comes up, and he needs to go.

You know it’s him orchestrating Zoro’s life as well as yours. And the noose tightens around your neck.

-*-

Friday comes, and you’re not even strong enough to get out of bed. You’re drained. You ask Ace to help with the animals and stay curled up in bed for the majority of the day. Your phone is strangely silent.

No Zoro.

No stalker.

You fall asleep. A restless sleep born from weariness and depression. Then, you wake up drenched in sweat. It’s almost dark outside, and an ominous feeling grips you in its hold. You try to listen, to hear if there’s anything out of place, any foreign sound that doesn’t belong, but all is quiet.

You check your phone, and there’s nothing there.

Everything feels peculiar and unusual.

You get up on light feet and have to take an extra minute to steady yourself because your head feels light, and you feel faint from not eating all day. Then, you slowly make your way downstairs. It’s too quiet. Too eerie.

Something is definitely wrong.

It takes you an extra minute to notice, but when you do, all the breath is knocked out of your lungs.

There’s a huge, beautiful bouquet of fresh roses in the middle of the kitchen table.

He was inside your home.

He was inside while you were asleep and vulnerable. He could have been in your room, he could have touched you, he–

Heavy gasps disturb the eerie silence of your home as fat droplets of tears stream down your face. You can’t take this, you can’t. It’s too much, and you’re not strong enough. There’s no way you’ll be able to survive this alone.

You grab your phone and press Zoro’s name, placing the phone against your ear with trembling hands. It’s time to tell him everything.

Except the call doesn’t go through.

“Come on!” You whine, your legs giving out as you fall to the floor, the red from the roses still burning your retinas. You try again. And the call doesn’t go through.

It’s his doing.

The police. You dial the number and press the phone against your ear, but it disconnects before even ringing.

“No!” You scream and throw the phone to the floor, getting up hastily and bumping against a chair before your trembling fingers grasp the landline phone. Sobs and hiccups leave your lips, and you don’t even care, You’re so tired, you just want this nightmare to end.

The line’s dead.

A broken, desperate scream climbs up your throat, and you lose track of time as you curl up into a ball and cry some more.

There’s still someone who can help. Even though asking for his help is the last thing you want to do, maybe it’s exactly what you need to get out of this.

Ichiji.

Determination and a newfound purpose seem to stop your tears from flowing freely, and you grab your phone again, taking a seat on the couch this time, not wanting to stare at the roses anymore and not daring to touch them yet.

The call goes through, and you sigh in relief.

Two rings, and a familiar voice churns your insides. “Well, hello, Doll. This is… unexpected.”

“Ichiji, I need your help.” There’s no use beating around the bush. “I need you to spare me one of your bodyguards.”

The idea hit you like a truck. Ichiji has tons of bodyguards, he can be persuaded to share one, you’re sure of it. Even if you have to owe him something - and you know he’s going to collect - it’s much better than living in this constant fear.

The silence prolongs for a while before he sighs heavily into the phone. When he speaks again, his voice is clipped and monotone. “I would love to help, Doll.” Somehow, you doubt that very much. “But I’m a bit understaffed at the moment.”

“Cut the crap, Ichiji. You have dozens of bodyguards. Each one is better than the last.” It’s true. They’re all elite. Might as well just say he doesn’t want to help you, that you can understand.

“Had.” Another heavy sigh. “I had dozens of the best bodyguards. My best one left around the same time you left me. And half of them followed him out.” He chuckles dryly as the information sets into your tired brain. His best bodyguard?

You remember him vaguely, though the name eludes you, you talked to him on several occasions. Ichiji’s events were boring and dragged on, so you made small talk. He seemed to like what he did and was the best at it.

“Do you see the chaos you left with your departure, Doll?” This time, you’re the one that sighs.

“I just need one, Ichiji, please.” How low have you stooped, to be begging the asshole who broke your heart?

“I can’t. What I’ve got left are mediocre soldiers and a footlong list of threats. I barely feel safe leaving the house. But if you feel so unsafe, maybe you can crawl back to me, Doll, I’m sure I can make arrangements.”

“Goodbye.” You exclaim dryly into the phone before turning off the call.

A bodyguard was your last hope. The small flicker of light that had turned on. And now you are truly alone. No Zoro, no police. Just you and the stalker.

You turn your head back into the kitchen where the bouquet stands, taunting you with its beauty. He was inside once. He’ll be inside again.

How long before he hurts you?

You don’t even know when the tears started to flood again, but soon enough, your face is completely wet, and your shoulders shake with every ragged sob. You have never felt this helpless.

You’re trapped.

There’s no way out.

BANG, BANG, BANG!

And he’s come for you.

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache

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|Chapter 9|

#reader x roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #you x zoro #zoro x you #reader x zoro #zoro x reader #reader insert #the meet cute #one piece #modern day au #Spotify

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melloollem · 6 months ago

Text

Trash lll| Bruce Wayne × Child!reader

Summary: In a city where survival is your main objective, you do whatever it takes, including getting involved in Gotham's criminal world.

Warnings: Common comic book violence, weapons, corruption of minors (minors involved in crimes), reader with no gender specified, comment if you want to be tagged in the continuation.

(Chapter l, Chapter ll, Chapter lll, Chapter lV)

(Dc comics)

There were murmurs all around you, but you didn't make a point of paying attention to them. You stared at the car window as if there was something interesting there, but you didn't really pay attention, lost in your thoughts.

The streets weren't exactly the place you'd like to call home, but now in the direction of Wayne Manor, they were exactly the place you'd like to be, you didn't know the person sitting next to you and you didn't want to be with them, you'd learned not to trust and now you had your whole life in someone else's hands, it frustrated you.

A slight discomfort in the area around your stomach snapped you out of your thoughts. You put your hand on it, feeling the relief of the bandages even on top of the winter sweater you were wearing. That wound was a daily reminder of why you should stay with Bruce Wayne, even if you didn't like it.

"Can you hear me?" Bruce's voice stopped being a whisper and became clear to you, who just nodded in confirmation, which he didn't seem to believe. "We're almost there. I have to remind you that you're not completely healed, but you'll be fine soon." He had probably noticed the way your hand was on the exact spot of the wound.

"I'm not worried about that," you replied, your voice low and hoarse, since waking up in hospital you had made little point of using your voice, not very interested in talking to Jason (the man who was there with you almost every day), Bruce, the doctors or the wards, your main interaction was with Jason who, while you were awake, made a habit of watching television with you.

"Are you in pain?" Bruce asked calmly, not even looking at you, which for no apparent reason brought you a kind of comfort. You didn't answer the question, you felt some pain, but you couldn't identify what it was. Bruce looked away from you for a brief second, but didn't insist on talking, contenting himself with listening to the car radio.

There was an old man driving the car, and you watched him from a corner, trying not to show too much interest. You also noticed how Bruce looked at his watch every few minutes, as if he was waiting for something. You weren't curious enough to ask him about it, but you had another question that you thought he could answer.

"Do you know who shot me?" Bruce's eyes shifted from the clock to you, something told you that the man driving the car was also paying attention to the conversation. "We don't know yet, we-” "Could you forget it?" You brutally interrupted him. "I don't want to go after..." your voice faded for a brief moment, Bruce didn't know if it was because the conversation had made you nervous or if it was just a lack of habit in using your voice.

You struggled for a moment, taking up the phrase "I don't want to go after them-, I don't want the police involved in this, okay?" You had a certain terror on your face, Bruce wondered who you thought had done this to you? Was there something he didn't know?

"Could you forget it?" You brutally interrupted him. "I don't want to go after..." your voice faded for a brief moment, Bruce didn't know if it was because the conversation had made you nervous or if it was just a lack of habit in using your voice.

You struggled for a moment, taking up the phrase "I don't want to go after them- this. I don't want the police involved in this, okay?" You had a certain terror on your face, Bruce wondered who you thought had done this to you? Was there something he didn't know?

"We'll talk about it later, but we can do things your way." He made it clear that the matter wasn't over, but the statement was enough to bring you some relief. You didn't trust Bruce to actually tell you anything. You knew he was aware of your criminal record (something he made a point of getting rid of), but he certainly didn't know everything.

The moment you arrived at the mansion, Bruce apologized to you, saying that he couldn't stay, but that Alfred (the one who was driving the car, now finally introduced) would take care of you. Right after that, the butler took you to the kitchen and offered you a lot of food. While you were in hospital, you discovered that your recovery was so difficult because of the state of your body, you were malnourished, which explained Alfred's insistence that you always try a little more food.

Alfred wasn't very talkative; while you were in his company, he only adjusted a few items in the kitchen while he waited for you to finish your meal (which got longer and longer after he offered you a new option). When you were finally satisfied, you were guided to a room that he said would be yours from now on. He said he'd be back soon to change your bandages, but that for now you had some time to settle into the room.

In the Batcave, Batman was updating some criminal files. The conversation between you kept going through his mind, he opened the file that belonged to you, all your information and crimes there. He was looking for something that had escaped his sight before, something that justified his fear that they would investigate who shot you.

He could hear footsteps approaching, Red Robin stopped beside him, also looking at your file. "He's got quite a file, why are you looking at it again?" Right after the question, the boy left a cup for Bruce on the computer desk. Bruce took the cup and thanked him with a slight nod. "I think I missed something," he replied before taking a sip from his cup of tea. "Well, he's upstairs, ask him those questions," Tim replied simply.

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Tag list: @lockofspades @anuttellaa @joudy78bes7er @anime-hair05 @amber-content @camilo-uwu @sparks0918 @redzluvvesage @drdoofenshmirtz124 @suninwalls @tenthmilo @rainnyydaysworld

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coraniaid · 5 months ago

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I know it's never going to happen, but it sure would be nice if people in the Buffy fandom could shut about how much they hate Kennedy. We get it, you're boring and predictable and have poor taste. But why not just ... keep it to yourself? Why assume everybody scrolling the tags wants to read your bad takes?

You don't even have anything original to say.

"Oh, but the writers rushed Willow into a new relationship too soon; Willow would never--"

I'm sorry, but are we talking about Willow Rosenberg, the girl who tried to encourage Buffy back into "date mode" because "love is nice" not only weeks after Buffy's ex-boyfriend had lost his soul, but while he was still actively terrorizing her and trying to kill her friends? The girl who tried to set Buffy up with a new boyfriend, because "you're ready now", just days after Buffy got back from months spent hiding out alone in a strange city while grieving over having to send that same ex-boyfriend to hell to save the world? Who -- after said ex came back from hell and then broke up with her -- then pushed her to try to date the first person who seemed interested in her in college, no matter how reluctant Buffy told her she was and how little either of them knew about him? That's the Willow we're talking about? That's the girl you think wouldn't rush into a new relationship?

Willow has always invested a huge amount of her self-worth in being worthy of love and being able to be loved by others, and she's always assumed that everyone else does the same. That's who she is. We're talking about the girl who ran off to cry when she realized the friend she'd been crushing on for years was dating somebody she didn't like because "it means you'd rather be with somebody you hate than be with me". The girl who only finally got over said crush when she started dating somebody new. Who was so upset when he left her too, years later, that she attracted the attention of a vengeance demon who told her she had "pain that pierces dimensional walls"; and who only really got over that when she met Tara. Who later describes her relationship with Tara as "the only thing" she had going for her. All the way back in Season 1, the first episode that ever focused on Willow was about her attracting the romantic attention of a demon obsessed with wanting its followers to love and worship it. Wanting to be loved is, arguably, the most consistent character trait Willow has ever had.

And look: Willow tortured and killed the man who murdered Tara; she came close to ending the world rather than living in it without her; when she comes back to Sunnydale months later, still mourning, she makes a point of visiting Tara's grave. She's twenty-one years old. It's not moving too fast for her to want to be part of a relationship again; it's the only way somebody like Willow can really stop being unhappy and find some measure of peace and emotional stability. Do you really want Willow to end the show miserable and single and mourning? Do you think that shows more respect towards Tara?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so different from Tara, surely Willow would never--"

We don't know what Willow's type is! Before Season 7, Tara is the only woman we ever see Willow show the slightest bit of interest in! And, again, Willow is twenty one years old. She met Tara when they were both teenagers. Are you still exclusively interested in the type of person you were attracted to when you were a teenager?

Tara is different enough from Oz, who was different enough from Xander, that I think it's safe to guess that Willow's romantic taste is broader than you might think. And the one thing that Kennedy does have in common with Tara (and with Oz before her) is that she is very, very obviously into Willow as soon as they meet. That's what we know about Willow's type: she falls for people who are, on sight, transfixed by Willow.

"Oh, but Kennedy treats Buffy so disrepectfully, she--"

Wow. A teenage girl not showing proper reverence to an older, more experienced person who -- without consulting her about it -- positions themselves as some sort of unelected authority figure? Oh, yes, I can see why fans of Buffy the Vampire Slayer would hate somebody like that. That's nothing like anybody we've seen on the show before.

Why should Kennedy like Buffy? Why should she respect her? She doesn't know her! Anything she's heard about Buffy Summers before Season 7 she'd have heard from the Watchers, who have no reason to be honest or favorable about her. When she gets to Sunnydale she gets to live in Buffy's crowded, cramped house, and train in her garden all day, and listen to speeches by somebody who tells her she's probably going to die soon and will probably deserve it. Somebody who doesn't make any effort to get to know her or bond with her as a person. Somebody who mocks girls like her for being driven to suicide (girls who are, in Buffy's words, "weak" and "idiots"), who sleeps with vampires and is friends with demons and comes up with plans that get the other Potentials -- Kennedy's friends, girls Kennedy herself feels responsible for (just like Buffy would if their positions were reversed!) -- seriously hurt or even killed. What does Buffy ever do to earn Kennedy's respect?

Don't get me wrong, most of Buffy's friends treat her pretty terribly this season [this is not a comment about Buffy's friends as much as it is about the quality of the writing this season]. But while Dawn or Willow or Xander helping to kick Buffy out of her own house is appalling and ungrateful and out of character, when Kennedy does it it makes sense. Buffy hasn't ever treated Kennedy as a friend, so why would she magically become one?

"Oh, but Kennedy is so rich and entitled and bossy, she--"

You're a hypothetical Buffy fan on Tumblr. I know if I look I will find posts talking about how much you like Season 1 Cordelia Chase. I'm just saying that maybe this isn't a route you want to go down.

"Oh, but Kennedy's just in the season too much, I wanted more focus on the original--"

This season does try to juggle too many characters, and it would be better if it spent more time examining Buffy's relationship with Willow and Xander and Giles. But the way you achieve that is by downplaying Andrew Wells (a lot), cutting out a lot of the more forgettable Potentials, entirely getting rid of Caleb [the actual worst Buffy character, for the record] and throwing out the awful time-wasting subplots around Spike's hypnotic trigger and the non-mystery of Giles obviously not being the First. It's not by reducing the amount of screen time Kennedy or Robin Wood get, because they are the new characters this season should actually be about.

"Oh, but-"

No, enough. I'm sick of it.

#btvs #every time I remember that many people think Kennedy is the worst character on the show my opinion of the fandom drops a little more #and to be frank it's not very high to begin with #it _is_ true that Kennedy would make rather more sense if she'd been Called before Season 7 and was already a Slayer when we met her #but again this a failure of the writing not a problem with Kennedy as a character as such

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jasntodds · 10 months ago

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Penace [5]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, a little bit of angst, some fluff, mentions of death, panic attack (jason), ptsd (jason), hurt/comfort, mention of scars

Summary: ❝Thesus: Stop. Give me your hand. I am your friend. Herakles: I fear to stain your clothes with blood. Thesus: Stain them. I don’t care.❞

It’s been a month and a half since Crane’s reign of terror was stopped, leaving Gotham to finally return to normal. But, what is normal? After everything Jason and you have been through, it seems normal might be some unobtainable dream state. But that’s not going to stop either of you from trying and maybe, you’ll get lucky in the end. At the end of it, the two of you have suffered enough, right?

Right?

A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update!! I had a bunch of stuff going on last month and stuff happened and I just did not have the mental capacity to edit this chapter. I'm so sorry!! 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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The next morning rolls around leaving Jason to wake up first. You're still sound asleep facing him, some of your hair covering your face. Jason takes a tentative finger and moves some of the strands from your face. He takes this time to exist. Sleep always came easier when you were around. Less nightmares, not as much tossing and turning, no insomnia. It was always easier with you around and last night was no different.

You fell asleep first just as you usually did when he read to you. You were cuddled into his side and it felt like it always did for that half hour. Just the two of you in bed together with a book and enough trauma for the both of you. Jason thinks you're both really good at being able to exist in a moment as if nothing happened. There's something in you that allows you both to ignore it all even for a few minutes and just pretend to be who you were before instead of just skin and bones.

The world, people, expect you both to be something specific, to act a certain way. You told him once, in a sort of one-off conversation, you felt like people expected something different. At the tower, you always felt like the others expected you to remain quiet or be angry all the time, to snap at some point. Maybe you did. But, your blood was never filled with anger but grief for what you should have been able to have. When Jason died and you got angry, they expected the silence. They expected the grief to hit you like a train. They expected you to quit, get revenge on the Joker before Bruce did. They expected more than rage-filled blood and red-stained hands. And they expected you to move on because what else was there to do? He was dead. And you were alone. People put up expectations and in some ways you feel like you need to meet some of them. Be more careful, get angry, snap, pretend like it's all fine because it's always been fine. But, then you lay down with Jason and you can watch movies and talk about your mom and you can exist in a way that you want without the weight of expectations collapsing your lungs.

Everyone thinks Jason is angry, always has even before he died. He was never angry. He was upset and hurt and didn't know where to put it. He was never angry but everyone expected him to be so he played into it. They expected him to be some sort of fuck boy so he played into it. They expected him to be reckless and so he was. Maybe he was always a little reckless, no one forced him to rob the Batmobile or go with the red hoods when he was a teenager. But they expect it. And now...Jason can feel it. They expect him to lose his mind and until then, they expect him to be fine. He lived, right? Joker is dead, Bruce avenged his death, and he was brought back. He should be fine, right?

They expect him to be fine without ever considering the scars lingering on his chest or marking up his mind like scuffed up wood. But with you, there are no expectations. He is allowed to read and tell you about theater stuff. He is allowed to have nightmares and be scared. He is allowed to just be. When Jason is around you, he's allowed to exist in a way that he wants without the weight of expectations strangling the life out of him.

Maybe that's why you can exist in moments like these as if nothing ever happened. It is the only time neither of you are facing some false hope of expectations. It is the only time you both can be damaged in all your glory. It is the only time you're allowed to bear your scars with pride and show the beauty they've left behind. You can just...be.

He eyes you softly, brows pinched together and you look so peaceful. He wants nothing more than to pull you into him and sleep like this all day. But it is not his place. He's surprised you stayed in the first place let alone stayed in bed with him. He is so glad you did but there is so much you haven't talked about. So much happened and there's just so much between you. He wonders if you'll ever be able to recover or if this is all you'll be. Just a one-off sleepover sometimes.

He doesn't like that idea very much.

Jason forces himself to get out of bed and make his way to the training area where he keeps his fridge. He expects to be able to grab a few eggs and make an omelet, see what else he has and maybe he could make you (and Tim) pancakes. But, as he enters the room, Tim is seated at the table with a tablet open and his brows pinched together.

"Oh, hey." Tim chimes, offering Jason a wave and a glance before he looks back to the tablet. "I made toast and a pot of coffee." Tim explains.

Jason scratches his head before he shakes it and fully enters the room. "Right, yeah, okay." Jason clears his throat, trying to get rid of the sleep still etched in his tone. "Did you even fucking sleep?"

"Yeah, of course." Tim brushes the question, voice still chipper and a part of it reminds Jason of how Gar usually was at the tower. "Early riser."

"A roof fell on top of you last night." Jason states as he walks over to the coffee pot seeing about a quarter of a cup left. He lets out a sigh before he dumps the pot in the sink and starts a fresh pot.

"Oh, yeah but I'm fine." Tim shakes it off.

Jason can almost hear your voice in his head telling him to push for an answer. A roof fell on top of him and his boyfriend is in a coma. Jason does not buy for a single second that he's simply an early riser. No one is an early riser with this job, not if you want more than three hours of sleep a night. It would be responsible of him to ask Tim if he were okay.

"Seriously, you alright?" Jason asks as he leans against the table to face Tim.

Tim looks up at him and while he knew some of Jason before, this is different. The most of Jason he knows is actually Red Hood related. You didn't talk a lot about him when you hung out and he only spoke to Jason a handful of times, usually about his order at Excellent Gotham. There wasn't much said about Bruce Wayne's newest son. Instead, he knows Red Hood is ruthless, brutal, and scary. He is intimidating and will kill someone if need be. He knows Red Hood almost got his dad killed and almost got you killed and got Dick killed. His association with Crane got him killed. Tim knows Red Hood is someone he wants on his side because if he's not, that could be for the worst.

But, he's looking at Jason Todd who happens to be Red Hood and in this moment he doesn't feel like any of those things. He feels like he did when you introduced him. Normal. Calm. Nice. Tim knew there was more to Red Hood. Not only did he meet Jason and he trusts your general opinion of people, but Tim doesn't believe anyone is as two-dimensional as they may seem. Yet, some part of him almost feels surprised with Jason asking if he's okay but it doesn't feel like it's out of obligation. Instead, it feels like he might actually be genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine." Tim answers. "Just..." Tim lets out a breath. "Gar said they haven't made any progress with Bernard. And I'm here..." Tim trails off. "Almost getting crushed by a roof and getting trained by you and y/n."

Jason pushes off the table as the coffee pot dings. "You've only been here like two days." Jason states as he makes his way back over to the coffee. "How'd it happen?" Jason asks as he starts to pour himself a cup, making sure to leave enough for you.

"Some video game thing that Brother Blood released." Tim groans. "No one knows how to get anyone out of their comas."

"Look," Jason starts as he walks back over to Tim. "That fucking sucks, alright? But, you and the Titans will figure it out. You're a genius, man." Jason lets out this scoff that comes out as a chuckle. "The way I see it, all those people and Bernard are lucky to have you looking out for 'em."

"Yeah, except I suck at this." Tim lets out a groan, tilting his head back. "I mean, Dick was...incredible. He was so good at this whole thing and he still is. And then you took over and you were just as great." Tim pauses for a few seconds as Jason watches the defeat start to wash over his features. "How am I supposed to live up to that when I can't even get any intel on this guy? When I can't even figure out a damn video game?!"

"Didn't you choose to be Robin?" Jason asks.

"Yeah but y/n said—"

"I died as Robin." Jason cuts him off because it doesn't matter what you said or didn't say. Jason knows Tim is going to be great at this. "Don't take what she says to heart too much. Her viewpoint of Robin will always be tainted because I died. Because it involved Bruce. You chose this, man." Jason points a finger at him. "No one else is crazy enough to do that, not after me. But you did. That means something. Don't get in your head about it, alright? You're smart as fuck and you're capable."

"But what if I was wrong?" Tim asks knowing it takes a special kind of confidence to not only volunteer to be Robin following Dick and Jason but to have the confidence he could do it.

"Dick wouldn't have asked you to be Robin if he thought you were." Jason says it so simply. "We were trained by Bruce for months before we put on the mask and cape, just remember that." Jason states as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Thank you." Tim offers a soft smile. "Didn't think you'd be the pep talk kind of guy."

"I'm not." Jason lets out a booming cackle. "So don't go telling people I am."

Tim lets out a soft laugh before he locks the tablet. "She still sleeping?" He decides not to push his luck and changes subject, surprised not to see Sam yet.

Jason nods softly. "Yeah, letting her sleep."

"She doesn't sleep a lot, that's what Gar said...that Molly said."

"Yeah..." Jason pulls in a breath as his heart starts to break. "Comes with the job sometimes." Jason only half-lies.

"She's sleeping now." Tim gains a cheeky smile.

"Shut up." Jason groans and he not getting into any of that with Tim. Nope. "Did you want something more than toast?" Jason immediately changes subject before Tim can try to return the pep talk favor for relationship advice. "Toast is a shit breakfast." Jason puts his Wonder Woman mug down before he gets up.

Tim offers a chuckle. "Uh...yeah, I could eat something else."

Jason looks through some cabinets and the fridge. "Omelet or pancakes?"

"Omelet?" Tim questions softly. "Didn't think I'd have an option." Tim did not thnk Jason could really cook, given the whole eggs, beer, and cheese comment.

"Was making both anyway." Jason retorts. He's just trying to be nice.

Tim lets out a laugh. "Oh, I get it."

"If you don't shut up, we won't train today." Jason almost wants to shut his head in the fridge door with his comment. Who the fuck is he? Dick? Gar? Ugh.

Meanwhile, you're finally stirring awake to an empty and cold bed. Your hand reaches over and you feel the spot where Jason was is cold. Your eyes peek open to see he's no longer there or even in the room. It's not that you should have expected him to be you think but there's a part of you that's still disappointed. Somewhere in your head you almost hoped you'd wake up together and you'd have one of your awkward realizations together. You'd stumble over yourselves and your words but it'd feel like home. It'd be warm and comfortable anyway. And then you'd find your footing where it almost felt safest, in the mix of bantering and flirting. But, he's gone. You're not sure that feeling is something you'd ever be able to get used to.

But, you get up anyway, stretching before you get out of bed. You grab one of Jason's hoodies from the table, tugging it over your head as you walk out of the room. You head to the room with the fridge that you're not sure you should really call a kitchen since there's all the training equipment in there, too. Why is he like this?

As you get closer, you hear Jason's laughter bouncing off the walls. Your heart skips a beat and you don't even notice the way the corners of your mouth perk up into a tender smile. You pause just to listen for a few seconds while his laughter subsides and he goes on with his story. He tells Tim some story about a fight with the Riddler and how mad he was. You've heard the story before but hearing him talk so casually and lightly about his Robin days makes you want to burst.

In the few times you've talked of Robin, there's been a sense of bitterness and sadness surrounding the mantle but now he's laughing and joking. He has stories that aren't tied with grief and pain. Robin always meant the entire world to him and you're so happy he seems to still have some of that joy telling the stories. You think maybe he is getting better. Maybe Leslie really is helping him again.

"Welcome back to the land of the living." Jason quips as you walk into the room.

You clear your throat sarcastically. "Get fucked."

Jason flips you off with a tender smile while Tim lets out a laugh.

"Guess I won't make you pancakes then." Jason shrugs dramatically and you know it's a hollow threat but it is also not a chance you're willing to take.

Your eyes narrow slightly before a smile comes to your lips again. "Do not get fucked."

Jason tilts his head and lets out a laugh. "Dunno, think it'll help?"

You shake your head. "You are a bit uptight."

"Look who's fucking talking." Jason waves the spatula at her.

"I am so not uptight." You laugh as you take a seat beside Tim.

"Well." Tim adds in with a shake of his head and the scrunch of his nose.

"The fuck does that mean, Tim?" Your eyes widen at him.

Tim's eyes widen slightly back at her before he quickly looks to Jason. He might help him with Robin but if he wants to go back and forth with you on this front, that's all him. Jason will let him sink. He knows exactly which side he should always be on and it's wherever you are.

"You're on your own." Jason chimes, waving a spatula in the air as he turns back to the stove, the first batch of pancakes already on the burner.

"Nothing." Tim shakes his head with a smile.

"Right." You laugh softly as you roll your eyes.

Jason walks over with a mug in hand. He hands it off to you and your brows quickly raise seeing it's your Supergirl mug from the manor. You packed and moved but forgot the mug. While things aren't...bad per se, between you and Bruce, you did not go back for anything you forgot and you almost laugh. You may not have gone back but clearly Jason at the very least took your mug, likely with the intention to give it to Molly to give to you.

"Thank you." You hold your mug up to him as he goes to walk away.

"You're welcome." Jason gives you a bright and cheeky smile.

"So, what're we going today?" You ask the boys while Jason finishes breakfast.

"I really got to find this Venta guy and get back." Tim states.

"Figure we'll eat, train a bit, then help Tim here try to get some intel." Jason explains, finishing the pancakes before he moves onto the omelets.

"Sounds good." You suck in a breath, pulling out your phone to send a quick text to Molly to let her know you're awake and what the plan is.

Jason finishes up your breakfast before joining you and Tim at the table with three plates in hand, a delicate balancing act on his way. Tim offers a quick thank you before digging in, the toast clearly not holding him over too well. You offer Jason a tender smile before you dig in. Your chest warms and your skin bursts with goosebumps knowing Jason made pancakes for you.

Jason offers such a specific type of subtle kindness that seems to be overlooked by a lot of people. It's not so much in his words which after all this time, you figured out it's just because he's not too good at expressing himself most of the time. For him, actions say everything that gets caught in his throat. And it's not just with you he does it with. Bruce preferred his omelet differently and Jason never even asked, he always just made an extra one with the things Bruce liked. Gar mentioned he was looking for a few Saga comics and Jason found them and shipped them to Titans tower just because he could. He always offers to help Molly with anything she's working on. He extends his kindness with actions just to display how much he cares about the people who offer him the same kindness.

You think it's one of your favorite things about him.

The three of you finish up your food and get changed for training. The three of you take your time stretching and getting ready to allow your food to settle a little. Training starts just as it did yesterday, Jason taking the first round and then you. Tim still doesn't stand a chance but you and Jason can already see some improvement the longer you train which comes as a big relief.

After training, the three of you get suited up and head out, deciding to go to the marina this time. Tim rides with you, hoping to find something out tonight. He feels like he's running out of time. Meanwhile, you and Jason are looking to see how he does not in a training room with a safety net. A roof fell on him last night and he seems incredibly unbothered. To you, it only feels right to have him out on the streets anyway, even if it's under false pretenses. So, while you're "looking" for Venta or trying to get intel on him, you're also patrolling, showing Tim the ropes, teaching him the art of grappling between buildings. This is all just more training, making sure he'll be safe out there in the open without the security blanket of you and Jason or the Titans or being in one location. Jason and you think Tim will be just fine. He's smart and capable, he pays attention. This is not a game to him.

It matters.

It always mattered to Dick and Jason, too but it's different with Tim. Bruce offered Robin to Dick and Jason. They were his sons. Batman and Robin. They had months and months of training and while it was hard and brutal at times, there was something that felt magical about the whole thing. It felt surreal. With Tim, it's as if he feels he is obligated to fill the role. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim chose it and there's somehow more pressure in that for him to prove himself. Tim is generally someone who can focus on things that are important and serious, but this is different. It is his life. It's the life of innocent people. He's having fun, sure, but he's taking it even more seriously than Jason and Dick ever did. It doesn't help he's trying to fill their shoes, something Jason does understand.

After hours of looking and patrolling, you don't turn anything up and head back to Jason's. Tim is incredibly disappointed by his inability to find anything out but you and you assure him that if Venta were in town or if anyone knew anything, they would have spilled with the two of you being around anyway. Between the three of you, someone would have told you some sort of information. You both remind him how easy it was to get information from the people you did question about other cases. Some people are harder but getting intel on one person rarely ever results in no answers. The reassurance does make Tim feel a little bit better about it.

While Tim is feeling a bit better and you're confident in his abilities, feeling pretty good actually, the case is not the same for Jason. Some days are just better than others and today is not one of those days. Waking up with you was refreshing but he's finding that to be the best part of his day because Tim put on the Robin suit. Jason isn't mad or bitter about it. It has nothing to do with it but something about it is causing him anxiety. Something about seeing Tim in the suit, or maybe just another rendition of the suit, makes him want to explode and run and cry and scream. He's been biting it down all day because it's his problem not Tim's. He hates it but something about it is pulling him back to Amusement Mile. Something about it is pulling him back to the anti-fear drug and Cran'e reign. Something about it is making him feel so small and useless. He thought he was making progress but you're back at his home and he's never felt so disconnected from everything. He thinks it's so dumb to feel upset and panicky over this.

He swears it's fine.

"I'm gonna shower." Jason clears his throat before excusing himself to head off to his bedroom as quickly as he can, trying not to raise any alarms.

Your eyes linger on the doorway. Jason might as well have run out of the door with how quickly he excused himself. You heard a slight tremble in his voice. It was sharper than usual and his steps weren't as light as they usually are.

"Is he okay?" Tim asks as he walks over to grab the suitcase for his suit.

You look back at Tim and nod once. During your patrol, you could tell something switched. Jason's been in a good mood and pretty casual about everything, generally speaking. Being in a good mood and things going well always seemed to poke a hole into his head a bit. And today, out there doing your thing, he was quieter, more focused. He's always focused but this was laserlike almost and you're supposed to be helping Tim. You'd make some sort of quip and all you'd get is a disguised chuckle from behind his helmet. If you know anything, it's knowing Jason Todd is in fact, not fine.

"Yeah, no I'm sure he's fine." You brush it off, figuring you'll check on him in a few minutes. "I kept him up pretty late so he's just tired, probably." You nod again, Tim not buying any of it.

"He was up before you were." Tim states as he walks back over to you with his case. "It's not my business, just..." Tim shrugs dramatically, showing genuine concern for Jason's well-being.

Your eyes go to your boots and then back to him. "Yeah, uh...yeah." You nod your head. "I'll check on him in a few minutes. I'm sure he's fine, Tim." You offer him a fake smile.

Jason's head is spinning while his arms are practically vibrating themselves from his body. His muscles are going so weak he can barely turn the water on for a shower. The air is thick and stale through his lungs, burning with every breath. His stomach twists and his eyes start to water despite his best efforts to stop it. The world around him starts to feel like it's closing in and suffocating the life from his lungs. The shower pelts the porcelain flooring, he swears he can hear you and Tim talking and walking from down the hall. His heartbeat is radiating through his ear canals and the passing cars sound like they might drive right through his new home. Everything is growing louder and louder and the thoughts start to kick in. They take a battering ram to the walls and that's when he can't even bear to stand anymore.

Jason carries the heartbreak of death on his shoulders and it is crushing every part of him.

Tim leaves you to go change and you follow his lead, heading for a bathroom. You take your time, giving Jason enough time to gather himself if he needs to before you go to check on him. And for a second, you almost even second-guess it. You haven't spoken in a month and a half, you're just now trying this whole friend thing, is it really your place? When Tim leaves, will you just go back to not talking with no obligation in the middle of you? What if you're wrong anyway? Maybe Jason has changed a little bit in this time and maybe he was just more focused because a roof fell on all of you yesterday. You run yourself in circles, not wanting to overstep and mind his space. Jason always liked his personal space, maybe a little too much but you don't want to intrude. You always felt like you were just intruding in people's lives, a mismatched puzzle piece trying to make yourself fit. It's not what you want to do to him.

Being around him was one of the only places you felt like you belonged. And Jason was the one that always made you feel that way.

You make your way to Jason's room once you're in your regular clothes because you can't bear not to check on him. He would do it for you and you know him. Despite it all, you're certain you always know when something isn't quite right with him. So, you make your way to his room and let yourself inside, shutting the door behind you.

You can hear the shower echoing from the en suite bathroom. The door is closed but you're relieved that he's in the shower and not losing his entire mind in his bed. You look around his room some more and you wonder what else he plans to do with it. You think it must feel more like a home than the manor did. Back at the Tower, he had some stuff on the walls that he picked up because the room was his. He graffitied the walls. It was his and it felt like his. But, the room in the manor still had a poster of the Flying Graysons. Jason didn't decorate the walls, something that always made you sad because it should have felt like a home to him. You never asked but you wondered why it didn't. It couldn't have just been Bruce because of how Jason views him. So, you wonder if it was because maybe he didn't think he deserved the manor or maybe it was that he felt like a replacement and someone else would come in to replace him anyway. Maybe it was a safety precaution for his own feelings of being left behind. You aren't sure but you hope this place feels like a home and he gets to decorate his walls.

The shower is still echoing through the door but you can hear the water clearly, no disturbance or movement. Your brows pull together as you make your way to the bathroom and knock softly. You don't get any answer and you don't hear any movement behind the door.

"Jay?" You ask as you knock louder this time. A lump forms in your throat while your heartbeat starts to spike. Your stomach burns and your teeth grit together. You remember the day on the roof. "Jason, are you okay?" You call again and don't get anything in response.

Your hand goes to the door handle and you pause for a second. And it's just a second before you open the door slowly. You carefully peek your head around the door, your eyes landing on the walk-in shower. The frosted glass door is open while water ricochets onto the white tile floor. And then there's Jason. He's seated, fully clothed in the shower, his knees are tugged to his chest while his arms are wrapped entirely around his shins. His head is buried in his knees and all you can do is shake your head in devastation.

You walk inside and close the distance between you. You keep your stance from outside of the shower, trying to mind his personal space.

"Jay?" You try again and you get nothing from him. It's as if he doesn't even register you in the room which might be one of the biggest red flags when it comes to Jason Todd. He is nothing but on guard.

You walk back to the door and shut it, just in case. Then you kick off your shoes and tug your hoodie off your head before you close the distance between you again. This time, you enter the shower, immediately getting pelted by warm water as you kneel down right in front of him.

"Jay, hey." You call his name again but this time, your hands are delicate and careful as you put them on his cheeks. He jumps immediately, head hooting up with eyes terrified and red. He looks panicked for just a few seconds until his brain catches up with what he's seeing. Your teeth grind together seeing the look of pain across his face. It's written in every line and feature you'd fallen so in love with over the last year. Your hands come to his cheeks again, just as tender as they were before and he doesn't even flinch this time. "What's going on?" You ask softly. Jason shakes his head against your hands and his eyes dodge yours and he feels embarrassed and exposed. Of course, you'd find him.

You always find him.

You always see him.

"It's you and me." Your voice is careful as your thumbs run over his skin. "I'm worried about you. What happened?" You brush the white streak of hair from his face.

"Loud." Jason's voice comes out hoarse and small and his bottom lip trembles. It takes every muscle in his body not to let out a sob.

"Okay." You nod your head once, the look of worry almost permanently etched into your features. If Jason had the strength, he'd push you away just to get you to stop worrying so much. He doesn't deserve it. You don't deserve it. "What happened?" You ask quietly, the water now completely soaking your hair.

Jason offers the weakest shrug you have ever seen. "Don't know." Why do you want to help him? Can't you see the monster he's become? His lip starts to tremble again as he tries to get a breath in but the tears are coming back and he can't breathe out of his nose. The water is dripping into his mouth and he almost thinks it'd be easier to just drown right here.

Not a day goes by that you aren't worried about him. It doesn't matter if you haven't spoken. It wouldn't matter if you hated him, as if that were even possible. You'd worry about him because Jason Todd has done everything to be enough. He has done everything to be happy and somehow, he's still the one sitting in a shower in tears because the world around him is suffocating. Yes, the whole Robin thing was worrisome. The whole Red Hood thing is worrisome. He gets shot out for fun. He taunts people because he thinks it's fun. Someone else is going to kill him one day, that much is certain. And while that is worrisome, you've also seen the damage people he loves have caused him. It doesn't have to be physical damage because Jason's own brain wants to torture him and it uses everyone else's words as some sort of infinite ammo. The vigilante thing is worrisome, but where Jason's head is, that's the real thing that's worrying.

It wouldn't matter if you hated each other, you would rip every false and cruel thought that ever crosses his mind.

You let go of his face and move your hands to his. You're careful, lightly pulling his hands apart and away from his legs. Once his legs are free, you move to the side and lightly press on his knees until his legs are stretched out in front of him. The whole thing is making Jason watch you with careful eyes and it's almost a distraction and then you climb on top of him. You straddle his lap, Jason's eyes never leaving you and it almost causes him more panicky. He might know you better than he knows himself, but he very rarely knows what you'll do in moments like these. But then, you don't say anything. All you do is wrap your arms around his neck and pull him for a hug.

Jason tenses up just as he's done before but after a few seconds, a part of him relaxes against you. He gathers a full breath into his lungs and it's as if he's giving his body permission to lose it all again, in the comfort of you. His arms wrap around your middle and his grip is so tight as he lets out a sob, you can't breathe. You think you'd suffocate if it allowed him any type of relief.

It is all just too much. The weight on his chest is too heavy and he doesn't think he can carry it. He goes out and he murders people. They may be very bad people but it's what he does and he thinks about how Bruce is so mad about it. He tries to be understanding but they will never come to an understanding over it. It will be a matter of time before Jason ends up an enemy to Batman and by default, an enemy to Bruce. What makes what Jason is doing different than what the Joker did to him? To Jason, Batman and Robin were the Joker's enemies, right? And he took care of a problem, the same way Jason is taking care of problems. Jason might not be the instigator in it, but he's doing the same crime. Was Bruce right about it? Is he any different than the Joker?

Most days, it is a thing that he lives with. It's for the greater good and his soul is already damaged, it's already the property of something that isn't quite him anymore. It's always just waiting in an in-between for his second round at death. He does it so other people won't have to. He does it so other people won't feel like him or you or Bruce or Dick or Molly or any of them. He does it to help because people get forgotten. That's what he tells himself but right now, he can't quite figure out if that's really the right thing. He doesn't know what else he's supposed to do. If this isn't supposed to be the answer, then what is? What if it isn't and he can't come back from it anyway? His hands are already stained with so much blood.

And because of that, he falls back into his routine way of thinking. He is damaged. He is broken and scarred, physically and mentally now. Everything around him crumbles at his feet. He tries so fucking hard to be something that's easy to swallow and digest but he fucks that up, too because no one really expects him to be like that. He breaks everyone around him and all he does is hurt people. They try to offer him love and kindness and he bites through it like a rabid coyote. He is undeserving. Someone who is deserving doesn't push and they don't hurt people for being kind. They don't destroy people. That's all he has ever done.

And then he fucking died. It might have been scary and traumatizing but there was a moment, right before everything went dark where he accepted his fate. That would be it. No one else would have to suffer for his mistakes. He was going to die and some people might be sad for a little bit, but they would move on. And he wouldn't fuck up their lives anymore. And he wouldn't suffer anymore.

The ache in his bones would be gone and the voice would be quiet. All of the pain he's dealt with would just be...gone. He would take his last breath, and that would be it. He has hurt for so long that there was a moment where he accepted his fate, that it might just be better and easier this way. He did not want to die and he wishes he were able to have put up a fight but in that single second, he accepted it.

That feeling lingers with him today. He accepted it and as brought back. The reaper won't leave him alone, tugging at his lungs and his bones. It's not forceful, just a casual reminder of what's waiting for him one day. It's a feeling in his stomach that feels like the start of an ulcer. Just there, waiting for the right moment. And he saw the look Dick gave him when he saw Red Hood was Jaosn. He did not seem happy. You were at first pissed about it. No one really seemed too happy at first when he came back. He interrupted your grieving process and then interrupted everything else. He dies with the ache in his bones and the guilt because he has no choice but he swears he won't do this again.

He put a bomb in his helmet as a failsafe.

You pull his thoughts back to you as you press a kiss to his temple. "You're gonna be okay, Jay."

"I'm not!" Jason yells through a whine as he pulls away, his eyes on you. His chest is heaving as he pants for some sort of air. "I'm never gonna be fucking fine."

Why does the world treat him so cruelly? Can't it see that he is good? Can't it see that he has always been enough? Can't it see that Jason Todd has been through enough? He has suffered enough. You would fight the universe with your bare fucking hands if that's what it took for it to understand that he is done suffering.

"You will be." You nod your head at him as your hands come to the side of his neck. Your thumbs trace his jawline. "And you don't have to do this shit alone." You urge. "I told you, if I'm alive then you are never alone and I mean it. I don't care." You shrug harshly. "It's gonna be okay." You want to kiss him until he believes you. You want to kiss all of his hurt away, scare it away so far away that it never comes back. You want to kiss him as hard as you can so maybe he'll believe, once more, that he is worthy and he's gonna be okay and he is never fucking alone if you're breathing.

"I-I just want to stop." His voice has never sounded so defeated as he rests his head against your chest.

"I know." You whisper, your hand moving to the back of his head as you run your hand through the wet strands of black hair. "It will, you just gotta give it some time, Jay." Your voice is steady and calm, disguising the pain in your chest. "You've been through a lot."

Jason picks his head up, his green eyes are dark and miserable. Completely broken. "I died." Jason chokes out.

"Yeah." You nod once as Jason watches something devastating rip through your eyes. "Someone should have been there to protect you." You wish it would have been you. It should have been you to protect him.

Jason shakes his head and he lets out this chuckle that almost falls into another sob. "Maybe I was better off dead." He says it in one breath, all flat and sincere. "Look what I've become."

"No." You say sternly because he doesn't get to do this to himself again. He has prevented you from this exact spiral more times than you can count and he doesn't even know it. It's your job to make sure you repay the favor that was never really a favor. "You deserve to be alive." Jason catches a subtle break in your tone. "You became something that everyone was too fucking cowardly to become. You save people." You nod firmly. "Do you know how many people you've saved as Red Hood?" You ask.

"Not fucking many." Jason lets out a huff.

"Three hundred and two." You answer right back.

Jason's eyes widen and he is so certain you're making that up. "What?"

"Three hundred and two." You repeat. "There was a domino effect, too. I didn't actually count that because it would be like... impossible but I did account for some of them. A guy was gonna blow blow up the museum but you stopped him the day before he had a chance. So, you saved every person that would have been there. You've stolen how many guns from Black Mask? I mean just think of how many people you saved because you took those guns? Domino effect. Of course, there was the apartment fire last week which I don't know, Jay. You're not a firefighter but you still went into it and saved a whole family then went back and saved their cat."

Jason's eyes burn and sting as he stares at you in disbelief and confusion. The water pelts him and it's the first time he realizes it's going a little cold. Why the fuck do you know that? Why are you keeping track? Jason doesn't even believe you. You have no reason to keep track of how many people he's saving. It's his doing and it has nothing to do with you. There is no reason for it. You're just telling him this shit to make him feel better even if that's never been something you've done.

You don't lie to him.

Jason didn't think you'd start so soon and he did do those things. The Gazette wrote a few articles about it though and Molly knew. Maybe that's how you knew but your eyes are soft and your fingers are idly playing with the wet strands at the base of his neck. Why are you keeping tabs on him when you never called?

"W-why the fuck do you know that?" Jason finally gets the words out and you can't tell if he's actually mad about it or concerned.

You hope he's just concerned.

You shrug and offer him a small but cheeky smile. "Cause I do." You suck in a breath. "Have my ways."

The very corner of Jason's mouth tugs upwards just barely at the thought that you're really keeping tabs on him, outside of hearing from your friends. If it were anyone else, he'd be pissed. He can take care of himself despite what this situation might look like to an outsider. He can take care of himself and he doesn't need people worrying about him and keeping tabs just to be disappointed or mad. Jason Todd has never needed anyone but you keeping tabs on him both as Jason Todd and Red Hood is different because you only do it for people you care about. You weren't talking and you still kept up with what he was doing. It makes him wonder why because you could have called. You could have asked yourself and maybe that makes the tiniest smile fall.

Jason didn't call either.

"Keeping tabs on me?" Jason asks with a rough but quiet voice, his brows pulling together.

Not keeping up with him feels impossible. As much as you're beating yourself up for everything and as much as a part of you doesn't think you deserve anything with him at all, there was always a part of you that knew you needed to keep up. Molly and Gar might know what he's doing as himself but Jason's going to keep them away from Red Hood as much as he can. Somewhere inside your stomach, you knew you'd find your way back into each other's lives one way or another. You just wanted to know what he was doing and if he were okay. The only thing you want is for him to be okay and killing people is not the easiest thing in the world, despite what it might look like sometimes. So, you've been keeping up with him just in case.

He's important to you, of course you keep tabs on him.

"I know you're keeping tabs on me, too." You whisper back to him, the cheeky smile completely gone from your lips.

Sometimes Molly will ask an odd question, something she either shouldn't know about or something off-handed. All of the Titans would just ask you which means the only person in Molly's ear is Jason. And you know damn well Molly is smart enough to know you'd figure it out. You just don't say anything. You give Molly the answer and Molly updates you on Jason's things. Okay, so she's a little in the middle of you and Jason but Molly knows you're both mostly asking about each other because you're worried. It is so stupid and you're so emotionally stunted, but it'd drive you both crazy not to know.

Jason just needs to know you're okay.

"Maybe." Jason finally gets a grin onto his lips because you knowing without saying anything until now makes his heart swell. Even apart, you just can't help yourselves.

"Exactly." You let out a soft laugh.

Jason nods a few times, his smile turning gentle. "Why, uh, why do you know that though? How many people?" Jason asks and he finds himself resting his hands on your hips as if on instinct.

"Helps." You answer casually. "Keeping track of everyone you kill and everyone you save by killing, it helps. Keep track of mine, too so...I kept track of yours...just in case." You clear your throat, dodging his eyes. "Know how you are and stuff so...uh, yeah, just...knowing it does help...helps on days where it feels like this might be worse." You explain softly. "It's not...by the way." You clarify. "Greater good but yeah...uh, yeah, you know sometimes it's a lot to carry."

The way you word it makes Jason's heart burn. His hands grip your hips a little tighter and he remembers the night outside of Jerry's. You nearly beat him to death and everything was still heavy. It was still a lot to carry and Jason told you to put it on him. When it gets too hard to carry, put it on him because he can carry the weight of it for you. You swore you'd do the same for him and Jason wonders when you seemed to lose that.

He knows. Deep down he knows because it haunts him in his sleep. That night outside of Excellent Gotham when you were finally done absolutely destroyed him. He knows that was the night you both lost everything. That he lost everything. He had almost gotten you, Tim, and Mr. Drake killed and you couldn't do it anymore. Jason still doesn't blame you even if it makes him want to lose his mind to guilt and regret all over again. It hurts because he always felt so secure with you but then that happened and it was like everything he ever had finally collapsed at his feet. An earthquake disguised in the words of "you win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done." crumbled his foundation. Your love had been wilting away ever since he came back and that was the day it all finally fell apart.

He wishes he could take it back. He wants what you had back.

"Still will carry some of the weight for you, Jay." You suck in a breath.

Can the wilting process be reversed? Can it be rebuilt? Or is it tarnished forever? Or can you rebuild something better? If Jason committed now again, would it be better? Could you get a fair fucking chance at this time?

Jason grinds his teeth thinking that he wants you. After all of this and you are still willing to be soaking wet in your clothes in a shower with him and carry the weight of devestation for him when it's too much for him. He is endlessly and hopelessly in love with you. He wants you. He wants what you had before and he wants to rebuild it. Somehow, some way, that is what he wants and fuck if he thinks he deserves it or not because you wouldn't be here if you didn't feel the same way.

Jason leans his forehead against yours. "You can still put it on me." Jason whispers softly and you gain a soft and subtle smile.

You don't know it, but Jason is entirely committed to you. Maybe you won't want to try again and Jason can't even blame you. It was a fucking shitshow and he died and you almost died. It was a fucking disaster. Maybe you weren't, but your worlds burned around the both of you and charred you both in the process. Maybe you won't want to and that's fine. But, Jason wants to try it all one more time, banter and games and then falling into something. It might not have worked the first time, but it'll be different this time. He's so sure of it and he is so sure of you. He just wants to find his footing and allow you to find yours first and then, even if it makes him want to throw himself through a window, he'll start the conversation.

You pull away, resting your hands on his cheeks. "Why don't we get up, get dry, and I can stay if you want me to?"

He always wants you to stay.

"Ya don't have to if you don't want to." Jason offers even though he knows you will anyway.

"I know." You smile softly at him before you scrunch your nose at him. "Guess you're just stuck with me."

Jason lets himself laugh. There's no such thing as being stuck with you. You don't get stuck to people and you make sure people don't get stuck to you. He is not stuck, it is always a pleasure to have you around. Even when it's hard.

Sorting yourselves out is for the best. It hurts the both of you more than words could possibly describe and a part of that does not feel it's for the best. It feels, somehow, more complicated now than it did before. It's as if you've both forgotten how to walk around each other and that part feels wrong. You both strolled right into each other's lives before and made yourselves right at home as if it were always meant to be that way. Being a part and sorting yourselves has left this gap between you that you're not sure how to build a bridge back. But it's for the best because you can't be together and offer each other the care you deserve if you're too busy dealing with your own traumas while trying to help the other one. It's a little too much to throw in a romance. It sucks and Jason knows it.

"Thanks."

"Of course." You get up, leaning over and turning the shower off finally.

You offer your hands to Jason and help him to his feet. The both of you are completely drenched and it makes Jason laugh. Your hair is soaked, the small bit of eyeliner is running down your cheeks and your t-shirt sags pathetically over you. You stick your tongue out at him and then laugh with him. He doesn't look much better than you do so you laugh, heartily and loud, the booms bouncing off of the tile surrounding you. It's all a little ridiculous.

"Why are you laughing?" You ask as you gasp for a breath.

"You look like a drowned rat." Jason bellows before he grabs the two towels from the towel bars.

"Fuck you!" You yell before sucking in a laugh and catching the towel from Jason. "So do you!"

"I know!" Jason agrees with you which only makes you laugh more and he thinks you're still the prettiest person he's ever met.

His laughing subsides first and turns into something soft and tender while you just smile at him before rolling your eyes. Jason wides his eyes to mock you and then he turns around. He rests his towel on the counter beside him before stripping down to his boxers and you can't help but watch. You're starting to feel goosebumps erupt over your skin as you grow colder but the sight of Jason Todd stripping down? That is not a sight to be missed.

He's somehow more toned now than he was before. The muscles of his back flex with every movement as he dries himself off. The Lazarus pit healed his face and the other injuries he sustained from the Joker but it didn't get rid of his previous scars. The one from his dad is still there and the other one from a fight on the streets. You still like how they look on him. Proof that he is alive. And the only thing you want to do is wrap your arms around him and kiss up his shoulder blades.

You almost do it.

Your feet almost move and you can almost feel how his skin will be warm against yours. He'll straighten his stance at first and then he'll relax. His hands will come up to your arms and a chuckle will fall from his lips the second you place the first kiss between his shoulder blades. You both would be happy.

You almost move.

But it's not your place anymore.

So, you will yourself to turn around and strip down just as he did, leaving you in just your bra and underwear to get as dry as you can. Jason peaks over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of your back to him. He could feel you practically boring into his back and he's relieved you turned around. It wouldn't normally bother him but he'd have to turn around eventually and he wasn't in for that conversation at the moment. But, he offers a glance, catching the raised lines of scars through your back, something that still boils Jason's blood.

Your scars never bothered him. Proof that you fight like hell to make it out alive. But, it pisses him off because what the fuck did you ever do to deserve the mistreatment? Nothing in this world justifies the horrors you went through and the fact you have to bear the scars for the rest of your life as if the haunting memories weren't enough. Jason gets it more than anyone, especially now. And all he wants to do is pull you into him, litter kisses across your face until you burst at the seams with laughter because you're happy. At least if you're laughing you're happy and that's what you deserve. To be happy.

Jason shakes his head and says he'll be back with some dry clothes before he darts out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. He takes a few minutes to get some dry clothes on himself, making sure he's covered with a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. His body starts to warm up almost immediately from the clothes and then he rummages through his things looking for something for you to wear. He grabs a pair of boxers for you, sweatpants that he only kept because they fit you better, and a red t-shirt.

When Jason gets back to the bathroom, you're seated on the toilet seat with the towel wrapped around you, cutting off just above your breasts. Jason offers you a smirk because who are the both of you if you aren't going to do this whole banter thing?

"Wanna give me a show?" Jason quips.

You snap your attention to him, seeing a pile of clothes in his hands and him now fully clothed. "No, fuck you." You chortle back as you get to your feet.

"But I'm sad." Jason gives you the fakest pout you've ever seen.

"You're still obnoxious." You quip, gesturing with one hand to get the clothes from Jason.

Jason keeps his smirk. "Better than shithead."

"Shithead." You beam up at him, still waiting for him to hand over the clothes.

"Babe." Jason laughs before handing over the clothes.

You smile back at him with the roll of your eyes. "Maybe I'd have given you one if you gave me one." You blink up at him and Jason knows damn well this is a trap.

"In your dreams." Jason holds his confidence.

You shrug, deciding to play the game. It is always the most fun that way. "Those are my best dreams."

Jason feels his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink. "Don't have just be dreams, babe."

"You fucking wish."

"If I did?" Jason quips without missing a fucking beat.

"I know you do." You roll your eyes and he knows he's won. "Turn the fuck around or get out."

Jason lets out a laugh before he leaves you to get changed, closing the door behind him. "I'm right out here if you change your mind about the show."

"Fuck you!" You yell before Jason hears you laugh behind the door.

Jason leans against his dresser, tugging out his phone to see what he's missed. He has a few texts from Gar, mostly just TikToks and one asking how things are going. Jason decides he'll respond later, not in the mood much for explaining that one. There's a text from Dick asking how Tim is doing and Jason replies that it's going fine, not offering any further explanation. He knows damn well Dick sent the same text to you and you'll elaborate more. There isn't much else on his phone so he goes to his gallery, a habit he can't quite break.

He hasn't deleted a single photo of him and you from his phone. It's an endless and helpless bit of hope that it'll be you and him at the end of this. And these are pictures from a better time because even when he was dealing with the shit from Deathstroke, at least you were both happy. Everything still seemed so simple compared to how it feels today. It feels like years have passed since you were in your bed changing your lock screens to matching pictures. It's as if you've lost your last bit of innocence in those few weeks of terror and agony. Jason figures that's just a consequence of endless trauma. He grieves for the kids you should have been allowed to be. Innocent and dumb and stubborn and carefree. He grieves for the people you both were in the pictures on his phone.

The door opens, tugging Jason's attention up and away from his phone before he pockets it. A tender smile pulls at his lips as you walk out in his clothes, he swore they always look better on you anyway. You have a pile of clothes in your hand, topped with the black towel. You walk right up to him, standing just a few inches from him and beam up at him before you offer the stack to him.

Jason tilts his head back with a laugh before he pushes off the dresser. "Am I your fucking maid now?" He quirks his brows at you.

"I don't think you want me to answer that." You laugh right back and it's something airy and warm.

Jason shakes his head. "Fuck you."

"If you ask nicely." You fire right back and you watch the subtle tint of surprise fade over his face. You let out a snicker before Jason deadpans. "It is still so much fun to fuck with you, Jay."

Jason isn't the only one chasing the innocence of a few months ago. You can feel it, too. It's dark now. Something heavy is lingering in the air everywhere you go. You hate how it feels and ignoring it doesn't do you any good but what else is there to do? At the very least, the way Jason laughs still makes you smile. At the very least, the way he laughs makes the air not feel so heavy anymore. The banter makes things feel a little bit better because at least you're talking, at least you're still on the same page. At least it's still him and you.

"Give me your damn shit." Jason grumbles through a smile while you do as told through a laugh. "Just...wait here." Jason stutters for a second before he darts out of the room.

You make your way to his bed and sit down, your hand landing on his pillow. There's something hard under it and while it isn't your business, you pick up the pillow anyway. Jason keeps a gun under his pillow and the smile evaporates in a second. You know why he does it but...it's the reality of it. The heaviness of always having a weapon at the ready even when it dangers your own life. To live in fear. To live always on guard. It's not fair.

Your heart aches for him. Even after everything, he deserves better. He has always deserved better but now he's stuck here dealing with the monstrosities he was manipulated into doing and dealing with dying. It's all not fair and you wish you knew what you could do to make it better.

You carefully grab the gun, checking the safety and you're relieved he's at least keeping the safety on. You rest it beside you before you look on the other side of the bed, not seeing any other weapons. You'd hope you would have noticed last night or this morning if he had anything out in the open. But, Jason wouldn't which makes you wonder where else he's hiding his weapons.

"What're you doing?" Jason's voice brings your attention back to him.

"Why, uh, w-why do you keep a gun under your pillow?" You ask.

Jason's teeth grind against each other, knowing he can't lie about it. He moved it last night when you weren't paying attention. He'd never have you sleep in a bed when it could go off. But, by the way you asked, that's not why you're asking. You don't even sound mad but Jason is embarrassed anyway. Exposed again, twice in one night because of course he keeps weapons at the ready. He needs to be prepared for anything. Joker took care of the job once already and Jason has been doing a great job in making more enemies than friends these days. He keeps his guard up at all times so he doesn't get beaten to death again.

"I put it there." Jason states, stuffing his hands into his pockets, practically gluing his feet to the floor. Maybe if he doesn't move, you won't ask any more questions.

You blink at him a few times. "Yeah...I-I knew that?" You question him. "That's fucking stupid, you know that?" You ask with the nod of your head. "You might have the safety on but what if it goes off?"

"Look, it's not a fucking thing. You don't have to make it one." Jason shakes his head, gesturing a leisured hand towards you, trying to brush it off as much as he can.

You roll your eyes before you get up, gun in hand with the barrel facing the floor. "I'm not judging you for it. I get it." You shrug your shoulder as you hand the weapon to him.

Jason holds it in his hand, grip tight while he watches you go to your bag. His brows furrow as you start digging into your backpack. You pull out a switchblade, metallic blue shining against the low light of his room. You walk back over to his bed and put the knife under his pillow.

"It's locked so it shouldn't open on you while you're asleep. Just don't lose that one, I like that one." You roll your shoulders, eyes locked on his. "I got those from Bruce so they're good for throwing." You explain as you swallow thickly and you can see Jason wanting to fight you on it, defend himself but he doesn't need to. Jason Todd never needs to defend himself against you. "I have one under my pillow, too." You say quietly while you watch Jason's face soften and his shoulders relax.

Being with you was always the place he never felt judged for anything, even the blood staining his hands.

"Thank you." Jason takes a few steps forward, finally unsticking his feet from the wooden floorboards. "Don't have to look after me, though." Jason says it simply, a hint of hurt in his voice. He takes a seat beside you. "Not your job anymore." Jason's eyes are dark and sad, something tugging his thoughts back to a place they shouldn't be.

"I know." You say quietly. "It was never a job in the first place." Your eyes go to your hands and Jason can feel the lump in his throat growing again but this time, for the love he thinks he lost from you. Or the love he thought he lost. "You're still my favorite person." You whisper back to him and you don't know why you say it. You only know that it's true and it's always been true. Maybe he just needs to know it's still you and him.

"Still?" Jason asks, his eyes searching over your face for any indication that you're going to throw out some quip.

"Mhm." You hum with a subtle nod.

Jason looks to his hands in his lap and he misses you more than words could possibly describe. He misses your honesty and your care and your quips and the snark. He misses every aspect of you and he is so in love with you. He thought, for just a second, maybe that feeling would fade. Time would pass and it would fade, especially lately. You'd meet again and maybe it would be so different that he wouldn't feel like his heart would burst from his ribcage at the sight of you. You always deserved better than him anyway. After everything he put you through, you deserve better than that but he can tell by how you stutter and tug at your sleeves, the way your smile doesn't quite reach your eyes after the last bit of banter, you aren't entirely happy. Being with him, for some reason he'll never understand, made you happy. And being with you always made him happy. You're sitting here and it's as if his very heart is trying to climb through his chest to get to yours. He is still so endlessly in love with you.

"I miss you." He says it quietly, looking back to you and he wishes he could tell you the other eight letters but..that all seems a little too honest and a little unfair. He doesn't expect you to say it back.

Every day you wake up and you love him. Every day you wake up and you miss him. Today was the first day in two months, you didn't miss him. You didn't miss him because he was down the hall. You didn't miss him because he was here and so were you. Today was the first day in two months, your chest didn't ache with the thought of him. You miss him, too and you miss his smile and his laugh and the new addition of the white streak of hair. You miss his sarcasm and his ability to turn anything into some sort of joke. You always miss him. And you are endlessly in love with him.

"I miss you, too." You whisper back, eyes locking on his.

The haunted words of 'I love you' scrape down your throat, knowing it's not your place to say them. It's too honest, too vulnerable, too exposed. It's too much for both of you and it's not fair to put that on him. It's not fair to put it on him because you aren't sure what you'd do if he knew. It's agonizing swallowing the words. You have felt more at home today than you have in two months. Jason deserves to know you still love him despite it all but you can't say it.

The room falls silent, the air between you growing humid and thick. Tonight was a bad night. They happen sometimes. Sometimes the weight of it all drags Jason down and he can't pick himself up. But you walk right in and don't even hesitate. You always know what to do and you never even question it. Tonight was a bad night but you were here and he is thankful for you. He's coming into himself as Red Hood, knowing, most nights, that what he's doing is for the greater good. He's getting along with Bruce and they're actually trying for once. He sees Leslie once a week. He is trying, making a solid effort to move past everything that's ever made him feel like a burden. It's the forgiving himself for what happened that drags him down.

Everyone was right. It was his choice to go to Crane. He didn't have to. Sure, maybe it wasn't really him while he was high, but it was. It was him making that choice to keep taking it, it was his choice to ignore every single offer you ever made to bring him back just because he was pissed and stubborn and he felt abandoned. So many people have suffered because of what he did under Crane's control. It may not have been the real him but he still did it. And that's a very difficult thing to forgive himself for. And it only ever gets worse when you're involved because you were the one person who never even thought about giving up on him until you were given no other choice. It's a very hard thing to forgive himself for but he is trying.

Leslie says he needs to learn to forgive himself, everyone else has forgiven him and that should mean something.

He's trying.

He's trying to forgive himself and be better. He is trying to accept the care and kindness of others without second guessing their motives or when they'll up and leave.

He's trying not to push.

"I..." Jason stutters. "I really miss you." Jason says again, hoping you get it because he can't stand to not have you in his life anymore.

Your face softens as your heart shatters through your chest. You forgave him for everything the second it all happened. Sometimes, you can feel yourself upset about some of it but it's just the grief kicking in again. The grief of everything you both lost the second he made the decision to go to Crane. It is the one decision he has made that you don't understand but you aren't Jason. You weren't Robin. You weren't stripped of the most important thing to you, of your identity. Not like Jason was. And you forgive him anyway because Jason doesn't like to hurt people. Especially people he cares about. Pushing has always been a way to hurt himself, not other people. You forgive him for everything even if he doesn't know it.

You wish it were different so you wouldn't be suffering through the pain of missing each other. It doesn't seem very fair, especially tonight.

You know what he means.

"I really miss you, too." Your voice is honest and Jason thinks you even sound scared, a reminder of how he sounded the first time things got a little too real with your feelings. Those words hold the same meaning that they do for Jason. Everything you're both too scared to say tonight.

You lean forward, resting your forehead on his shoulder and you know your heart will only ever belong to him. It'll always be safe with him. Jason's eyes soften as he looks down at you and instead of making some quip or joke, he lets you sit in the moment. He rests his cheek against your head and all he wants to do is kiss you. This isn't easy for you either.

You lift your head and Jason's eyes are big and green, the prettiest shade of green you've ever seen. He is still the only thing you have ever wanted. He will always be the only thing you'll ever want. And Jason can feel it, too, like an invisible string tugging you together in every universe, in every timeline. You are the only thing he has ever wanted. You are the only thing he will ever want.

Jason hopes you know he feels it, too so he rests his forehead against yours first this time. Your eyes close as your shoulders relax and Jason finally lets out a breath before his eyes close. He'll never ask because that's too soon into whatever this friendship is going to be but he's hoping you stay awhile. Stays past morning tomorrow and into the night. You don't have to talk about any of it, he just wants you to stay and he wants to stay just like this because it's the safest he's felt in two months. And it's like a reflex, embedded deep into his DNA, he brushes his nose against yours as he feels your breath fan over his lips.

You match him but instead, you brush your lips against his. You haven't kissed him in a month and a half yet it feels like it's been an entire century. Kissing him has always washed away every doubt and ounce of sadness you've ever had. Him kissing you has always made you feel wanted, the two of you against the world. That's how it should have been and that's how it should be now. You want to kiss him so badly you think you might burst into tears. Life was always better with him in it. You want to kiss him to show him that even if you can't be together, you still love him with every ounce of your existence.

Jason's head starts to spin and he holds his breath. He's thrown right back to that time in the manor when you told him to prove it. You said it and he never put in a single thought after that. He took the leap and he thinks it was one of the best decisions he's ever made. That kiss sealed your fate together, even for just that short time. It brought you to him in a way he didn't think he'd ever be lucky enough to have. Being with you made him feel lucky for the first time in a very long time.

Maybe you can do this again. Maybe the way for you to do anything is to tiptoe into it. It didn't work last time but it wasn't for lack of trying. It was Jason who fucked it up but it had nothing to do with you and him. Maybe falling back into each other is how it's supposed to be. Maybe you could fix it all. It's just lonely without you. He's terrified but your lips brush over his again and you're making the first move this time. You can still quiet every horrible thought he's ever had. He loves you with every ounce of his very existence.

Jason brings his hand to your cheek, running his thumb over your cheek. Your skin is always soft under his callused fingers. He thought maybe you'd back out because you do that. You run from everything, you back out, it's all a joke and that's that. It would be incredibly painful but...you don't. You lean into him instead. So, Jason finally closes the bit of distance between you and brings his lips to yours.

You smile against him and Jason can breathe again. He can breathe again as you kiss him back and your mouth moves with his. This might be a one-time thing but that's okay because even if it's just for this moment, you choose him. And he chooses you. You will always choose each other. In the chaos of your lives, somehow, you find your way back right here with your hands pulling the collar of his shirt closer to you and his hands on your cheeks. You choose each other anyway. Despite the pain and heartbreak and chaos and all of the terrible, horrible, thoughts, you choose each other. Even if it is just for a moment, Jason decides to take the second leap and he wants this moment to last as long as you will let it. If you'll have him.

Jason moves his hands to your hips, giving them a squeeze before he tugs you closer to him. You get the hint and without breaking the kiss, you move to straddle his lap, Jason guiding you down. His hands squeeze your hips and he tugs you as close to him as possible while your hands find their way to his shoulders and then the back of his neck. Your fingers tangle in the damp hair at the base of his neck. The kiss grows sloppy and desperate, teeth clanking against each other and it is the most cathartic feeling the both of you have had in a long time.

It is healing parts of you both you didn't think possible. Normally, it's Jason questioning your feelings because why would you ever love him after all the damage he's done? But, it's you questioning that as you kiss him with everything in you. You're just like everyone else, why would he forgive you for that? Why would he kiss you like he's still hopelessly in love with you? You broke a promise to him and he's still here and you have no idea why. But, tonight, you're going to allow yourself to be thankful. All that matters right now is that you're here, together, just him and you.

Jason swears you have left a permanent make spelling out your name across his heart and Jason wouldn't have any other name in your place. And a part of him thinks you know, too. It's as if it glows and heats up the center of his chest whenever you're around. It's like his heart becomes a beacon of light on the top of a lighthouse the second you kiss him. You make him feel alive again and he doesn't have to feel so alone when you're here.

You feel so at home with him. Every piece of paranoia that's been coursing through you fades away and you know, without a shadow of a doubt, with Jason you're safe. After everything, he will always protect you. You will always protect him. You're tied together even if you don't want to admit it to each other. You've ruined each other for anyone that would ever come after and the both of you have never been so thankful.

Jason pulls away, his chest heaving as his eyes open slowly. Your eyes meet his slowly, pupils lust-blown and you have a loving and lazy smile spread across your lips. He thinks he could do this all night long.

He gains his signature smirk. "Did I win that time?" Jason's eyes glance to your lips.

You deadpan and shake your head. You expect absolutely nothing less from him. "Shut the fuck up."

Jason lets out the warmest chortle you've ever heard. "That's a yes."

"Just shut up and kiss me." You groan before colliding your lips with his.

You can feel him grin wildly against your lips before he falls right back into rhythm with you.

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cheapshrimpysheep · 2 years ago

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Hurt/Comfort Rook Request: MC has a horrible nightmare, the kind that stays with you for weeks. Within the dream Rook catches them in one of his traps and ends them with brutal efficiency. They wake up in a sweat feeling adrenaline in their veins... It was a dream. The shock of their boyfriends actions settled like a hard weight.

In the following days MC does their best to hide from him, ideally being accompanied by a stronger classmate. When he catches their eye a gleam of terror shines.

COMMENTS: Hmm... I like the nightmare idea. But a nightmare so horrible that you only feel safe if you're away from the person you supposedly like and accompanied by someone strong? That sounds too much like an abusive relationship to me. 😥

So I smoothed things over. 🤗 The nightmare isn't that horrible, just a manifestation of the reader's insecurities regarding the relationship with Rook. There's no terror, just insecurities with a person who seems to adore everyone and everything.

CHARACTERS: Rook Hunt x gn Reader

TAGS: GN Reader, Hurt to Comfort

WORD COUNT: 750 words

You and Rook have become extremely close. But whenever any suggestion of the two of you officially starting dating came up, you dodged it.

One night you had a dream, a nightmare actually, that would make you think for a while. You don't remember all the details, but you remember the important ones.

You were in the woods with Rook. Playing tag. You remember feeling happy as you ran and hid from him. Having fun messing with him. Until suddenly an arrow hits your chest. Your heart, perhaps? And after that you couldn't find Rook anywhere. You were all alone in the woods with a pain in your chest from the arrow and bleeding. You remember feeling that after he got you, he didn't care about you anymore. Since the hunt was over.

You realize this is how you feel. Seeing that he likes so many things and so many people. Would you really be as special as he said? Or maybe that was really how he felt, but just for now. When the hunt is over and he knows he already has your heart...

You spend a few days away from Rook. Until someone knocks on Ramshackle Dorm's door, you open it and see him outside.

“Bonjour, mon cher Trickster.” he was smiling, happy to see you. “Would you allow me to enter, please?” he was carrying his quiver and bow, probably coming straight from training to meet you. “I noticed that you are a little distant. And I haven't seen your smile for so long, not even when you're with your friends. I am unable to rest knowing that something may be troubling your beautiful heart.”

You let him in. You need to talk to him. Grim was taking a nap in your bedroom.

You sit on the sofas in the common room and he is remarkably calm and patient as you prepare to tell him about your nightmare. “Would you like me to make you some tea to calm you, mon cher?” he gets up without waiting for your answer “Don't worry, I will do it anyway. You rest, please. I'm here for you. Do not forget it.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. Winks at you and walks to the kitchen.

He comes back with your favourite tea, exactly the way you like it best and accompanied by what you most like to eat with your tea. You start having tea and he talks a little about some news from Pomefiore to try to relax you a little. Even making you laugh about vil having caught Epel speaking in his dialect again.

When you feel ready, you take a deep breath and tell him about your nightmare and how you interpreted it, about your insecurity about Rook's true feelings and about him getting fed up with you one day. He listens to you with the utmost attention without daring to interrupt you even once.

When you are done he sets his tea on the table and gently takes your tea from your hands to release them too. Holding them right after and kneeling in front of you. Looking you in the eyes.

“Mon cher. Mon amour. The mere thought of you getting hurt because of me gnaws at my chest. The simple fact of not seeing your smile for a second strangles my heart. Please do not doubt my words as I will always expose and express my true feelings with the most genuine of them. To the point that not even all of them are enough to describe how I feel about you. Please know that they will all be true.”

“It's true that winning your heart is an exciting hunt.” he continues “But keeping you with me will be like caring for the rarest, most fragile, most wonderful flower in the whole Twisted Wonderland. A job that should never be neglected even for a day and as exciting as a hunt knowing that a false step and one of your beautiful petals could wither. And that thought now haunts me too.” You see his eyes glisten with possible tears

“And if it rests you even more, I'll leave it here stated that if I ever hurt you...” he takes one of his hands to his back, removing an arrow from the quiver he carried with him. He gave you the arrow and had you hold it with the point resting on his chest, slightly to the left, over his heart. “You must hurt me twice as much.”

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gffa · 2 years ago

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Okay, not to defend Gotham War or anything, but I think I'm talking myself into liking what I see it's trying to do. Starting with some great tags on this post:

#i get why people are hating on it i really really do. trust me#but TO BE FAIR... zdarsky has been making it overwhelmingly clear that bruce is SERIOUSLY unwell right now#like it's been nonstop Horrors for him for like. over a dozen issues straight. with no rest or time to process. and he doesn't have alfred#who was a HUGE part of his support system not to mention the finances etc etc#iirc there's even a panel that pretty much outright states that this is more of an issue of control than morality#and that includes the choosing sides thing like the batkids seem more concerned w how bruce is going off the fucking rails than#just the moral aspects#anyway (via @clownprince)

#Batman#Bruce Wayne#REAL#REAL REAL REAL#LIKE. Zur En Arrh is a LITERAL Defense Mechanism going Malignant at this point#Not only that but throughout Zdarsky's run there's been allusions to illnesses and Bruce Not Having A Good Time#Not Having a Good Time and Not Having Time At All to take stock of the sheer What The Fuck-ery that's been going on recently#Because it's been a CONSTANT steam of What The Fuck-ery nonstop#And the Worse is yet to come if one considers the future issues synopsis and the ''I am a Gun'' story by Zdarsky#(At most I'm a little bit concerned over how Zdarsky will try to wrap this up‚ but that's a normal concern especially about Comics)#(Especially Batman Comics considering how often Editorial likes to... do things) (via @kaosvrow)

I agree with so much of the criticism of Gotham War, especially that the arguments for or against Selina's plans are absolute garbage by characters who should be making better arguments and that the other characters are being used as bobbleheads instead of actually giving them their canon personalities--and, okay, I will also point out that in the VERY FIRST ISSUE, Selina's plan gets someone killed and so I'm willing to extend some grace that the story isn't trying to push forward that either way is actually right, I honestly don't think it's about that. I think it's a story about Bruce Wayne's mental state, because Zdarsky's been building this up for awhile now, like the issue immediately prior to Knight Terrors? Shows us Bruce's mental state is ALREADY absolute TRASH right then:

Zur-En-Arrh was already leaking through the seams of his mind, he was already feeling the impending doom of everything he cared about being burned away, that his mind literally couldn't watch his kids being happy and together and getting along without feeling like it was all burning to ash.

And then Knight Terrors happened, which was one more thing digging hard, boney fingers into his trauma, and he handled it pretty well in the moment, but it's such a giant, non-stop pile of stress on a mind that is already damaged to hell and back because of his trauma.

Further, the very first issue of the Gotham War storyline? The very first panel, the one that sets up the stage of what's going to happen, makes a very clear point about how this is about Bruce fracturing:

And then on the very next page, Zur-En-Arrh is literally stalking at the bars of the cage around Bruce's mind.

And then Bruce wakes up and it's immediately more establishing just how worried everyone is about him because so much has been piled on lately:

Bruce hides his missing hand from his family, just like he's trying to hide how scraped thin he is right now, and goes out on patrol.

Where his internal monologue is all about how defensive he feels lately, how he feels like the years are catching up to him, how nothing feels right but this, making it clear that Bruce is hanging onto Batman with a death grip because it's the only thing that feels stable to him right now.

And all of this is in the first TEN PAGES of the first issue, this is our set-up, this is our foundation, this is what we're being given to understand what this story is about. Then Batman #137 happens and it's literally ALL ABOUT BRUCE'S MENTAL SPACE, that Selina's plan is the catalyst, not the driving point behind all of it. Again, I'm in 100% agreement that the Batkids are acting like cardboard cutouts because you will never get me to believe that they didn't notice crime going down or that they wouldn't be pointing out that Gotham's wealthy are just going to start making their security lethal in response or that the Court of Owls won't step in, that this is not a long term solution to giving these people lives beyond crime, or even that a lot of them should be agreeing with Bruce, that they don't get to decide who is an acceptable victim. But the story isn't really about changing up the way comics deal with crime, it's about even the Batkids are framing it in terms of how it's about Bruce. Jason is really the only one who seems onboard with trying out Selina's plan, but even his confrontation with Bruce isn't really about that, it's about all their baggage, their fight immediately becomes about how angry Jason is at the way Bruce has treated him. This fight isn't happening because Jason's a true believer in Selina's plan, it's happening because he's angry at Bruce and Bruce is in a shitty mental place, after all the non-stop horrors AND feeling like he's been betrayed by the kids who he thought understood that people being victims wasn't acceptable, and so he lashes out at Jason.

When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that.

(And I'm actually okay with the way that fight happened because I can buy that, for example, Cass might be holding back against him, she's a stronger fighter than he is, but he's being ruthless because of the state he's in, while she might be feeling more cautious.) When they fight, it's not because they're siding against Bruce, it's because he's become unstable and dangerous. The why of it doesn't matter, it's not about that. Even further, when Bruce fights against his kids, he's wrong and biased, especially in the fight with Dick, who he thinks has a sloppy offensive and doesn't know darkness like he does--to which Dick just immediately cracks him in the face because, yeah, Dick Grayson does know darkness and Bruce isn't as untouchable as he's trying to make himself seem (because being Batman is all he has right now).

I think it's important that it's Dick who defies his expectations here, because this story is building off context of what happened between Selina and Bruce, that they were truly together for awhile, they were about to get married--Selina mentions that it the first issue, it's a major thorn in that conversation when she throws out how she doesn't believe that Gotham needs Batman anymore, it needs her.

She's giving him what he said he always wanted, she's giving him the thing that kept them apart, he should be happy, should they head to the church now? Saying that he won't because he wants to be Batman more than he wants to solve the city's problems.

The failed wedding between them is important in part because of what Selina's saying here, illustrating that both of them are bringing a lot of baggage to the table but also because of what else happened during that storyline, why the context is so important. Because that storyline dovetailed into one about Bane wanting to take over Gotham and he needed Batman unstable and distracted, which was working after Selina left him at the altar, he was a mess. But you know what was saving him at the time, bringing him back from the ledge? THIS KID:

Dick was the one poking and prodding at Bruce with jokes and warmth and care and it was working. He actually got Bruce to cry in front of him, to release some actual genuine emotion!

Dick makes Bruce more emotionally stable, to the point that Bane had to hire KGBeast to shoot Dick in the head just because he was so good at stabilizing Bruce--this is also why Dick's the one who says he'll go talk Bruce down off his moral ledge in Batman #137.

So, it's Dick that has to be the one to defy his expectations in the fight, has to be the one who breaks through Bruce's offense and knocks him down in what feels like a betrayal even when it isn't, because this isn't a story about who's right and who's wrong, it's a story about Bruce isolating himself because he's mentally fractured to hell and back, because he's not trusting his kids, he's still hurt by Selina leaving him, he's still grieving Alfred's death, he's run ragged physically and emotionally and mentally by a series of exhausting horrors piled on him, he's lost his family's fortune, he's not even living in his own family home anymore. (I focus on Dick here as an illustration of tying this back to previous examples of Bruce crumbling and important context that the storyline is drawing on, but Gotham War isn't really specifically about Bruce and Dick's relationship, but more about Bruce's relationship with all his kids, like Tim and Jason and Damian all have equally important moments. But it's a very direct example of how his children are a huge part of his support system and draw him back from the ledge of being just Batman and back into being Bruce.) That's why the issue ends with Bruce getting the papers telling him that the bank sold Wayne Manor to Vandal Savage, because it's one more thing that's stripping Bruce Wayne away from the character, and leaving him with nothing but Batman and Zur-En-Arrh. Gotham War isn't actually a story about a war for Gotham. It's a story about Bruce Wayne going out of control and everything is written to serve that. The characters' fights are catalyzed by Selina's plans, but they quickly become about Bruce's relationship with the characters. The narrative makes heavy-handed points about Bruce feeling like he's losing his grip, that he's hallucinating and talking to himself, that he is extremely mentally unwell right now. Everything Zdarsky's been writing (like especially the "I Am a Gun" storyline right before Knight Terrors) has been building up to fracturing Bruce Wayne.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #bruce wayne #dick grayson #selina kyle #gotham war #long post #feral gremlin length post

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unabashednightmarepizza · 2 years ago

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𝑆ℎ𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑤 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐵𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑙𝑒𝑠, 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑡 8

Tagging: @augustwithquills, @idohknow @bloody-mf-bsc

Liked by freddycarter1, benbarnes, jessie_mei_li and 998,052,762 others

shadowandbone: A big thank you for our lovely Y/N Y/L/N- Barnes and her success! We are proud to have you and witness your art and talent from up close!

And a big thank you to the fans, who helped and supported us in this journey of winning not one but 4 awards in one night! We couldn't have done it without any of you!

And no, this definetly not her proud husband writing this.

View 696,357 comments

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes: I will never get used to being called that name 🫠

jessie_mei_li: you both are such simps I'm gonna puke🤢😜😝

kittheyounger: ı'm gonna have cavities because of their sweetness... Who knew she loved being called "Barnes"?

freddycarter1: probably her husband?? And no, benbarnes, we don't wanna know the details... the last time terrorized me 😧😨😳

User5: First Y/N and now Ben... I knew they had the password!

User8: BIG CONGRATS TO OUR GIRL AND EVERYONE WHO WORKED HARD!🫡😎

User4: so proud to watch you all!

amita_suman: Don't let the picture decieve you, the bouquet is way bigger 😁

freddycarter1: I guess Ben's simping's proof is very obvious 😎

User11: our girl deserved every single one of them, alongside other ones she got! Must be hard to try to find a place to put them in their house where her babies can't reach lol

User2: Mother is mothering again. Slayed with that dress as usual.😎🫦

User9: fr, I bet my ass everyone was jealous of her because she is pretty, succesfull, happy, has a gorgeous husband and even more gorgeous and cute children... The list could go on.

User6: Ben must be damn proud of his wife. I think I saw him shed a tear while he clapped loudly for her 🥹

User13: the fact that Ben forgets his own password but uses this account freely baffles me... Girl, is he using your phone again?

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes: No, surprisingly enough he isn't.

User3: WE CAUGHT HER, SHE HAS BEEN THE USER OF THIS ACCOUNT

User7: 🚨🚨🚨 OPEN THE DOOR Y/N WE HAVE THINGS TO TALK ABOUT

Liked by benbarnes, pascalispunk, jennaortega and 5,908,632 others

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes: Only one minute... One minute I left him with our baby girl and he did this. I mean... She looks hilarious and Ben is very proud of his work but did you have to make her like that? She will look at these pictures one day!

View 562,512 comments

User3: Ben's cheeky grin, knowing that he wouldn't take sofa punishment is more hilarious djdjddj But babygirl Barnes looks so happy 🥹❤️

User6: His shirt was a paid actor lol

User18: That's why babies shouldn't be left with fathers, without guidance... It's never guaranteed if the baby would be glued to the ceiling or lost in the blankets lol

User3: Why does she look like she could take part as the baby in Adams Family? That joyous, blonde baby in fhe movies I mean??

User8: LoL I can see the resemblance now djsjdj she is cute tho I just want to squish her cheeks!

User3: so true! I don't like babies, but babygirl Barnes is an exception.

User6: she is the only baby, including their son, that I would gladly commit homicide for

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes: As much as I am glad I have an army of protective SIBLINGS for my children, let's not do that 😅

User16: Is that a little bit of belly I see?? Dadbod!Ben??? Anyone?

User6: Okay but... Is it just me or did Ben become more happy and attractive ever since having a family?

user17: Only the best wishes to your family!

Liked by Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes, freddycarter1, pascalispunk and 6,784,231 others

benbarnes: The other half of my soul, my beutiful wife, the mother of our children and the joy of our chaotic yet happy family... There are many titles you have but the best one for me is Mrs.Barnes, happy anniversaries, darling. All the memories we made together (including yes, the mess in the kitchen many times we cooked together) is nothing but perfection to me. My only wish for the future is to be able to make more with our children.

I love you so much ❤️

Comments are restricted

Y/N Y/L/N-Barnes: I'm the happiest I ever was, my love. Thank you for the joy you brought me, thank you for being my husband and the father of our children. I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you 💐🥹❤️💓

#ben barnes x you #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes #shadow and bone series #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone cast #shadow and bone fanfic #celebrity au #celebrity reader #celebs #celebrities #celebrity #instagram au #instagram

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redjennies · 5 months ago

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i see you sometimes in different dragon age tags like "oh yeah the lae'zel fan with the redjenny url. who also likes oghren. extreme good taste" and then as an anders girlie i see your "anti"-anders post and im like "yeah they even have good taste in the way they hate my guy"

aw I really appreciate this! I'm really glad people like my takes on Oghren. I almost posted this long ass meta about him while doing my Brosca playthrough but ended up saving it to the drafts because I was like "girl you are the only person going to bat for this man and everyone else is just tolerating your right to be ornery about disliked characters." I just think about him at the Temple of Sacred Ashes a lot. to anyone reading this, if you've never brought him there, you are truly missing out on some fucking wild character work. he is a gem.

truthfully I'm not even really that anti-Anders when I'm not actively in a mood about how much this fandom annoys me. I'm extremely critical of him as a person and full disclosure, without trauma-dumping too much, I do have a personal history that makes it hard for me to not see him as very manipulative if not outright abusive. but I actually quite enjoy him as a character. I think he's got a lot of flaws and strengths that are really interesting to examine how they coincide with Hawke's larger story. how Anders and Hawke are arguably more intrinsically linked to each other than Varric and Hawke are. it might surprise people but I intentionally max out his friendship every time with my main Hawke because I think their particular story is more tragic if she has fully drunk the Anders kool-aid because he's the first unapologetic apostate she's met outside of her family and because he saved Carver in the Deep Roads and she feels like she owes him. even more of a surprise possibly, I love Sebastian and don't like Anders, but my canon ending is Hawke sparing him one last time and asking him to leave because I think that's the best ending for how I play their relationship. like "no, you have asked so much of me and I have done it for you over and over but I'm not going to give you this, even at the expense of my other friendships. you don't get the easy way out. you have to live with this and you have to do it far away from me." like fuck man! the drama! the poetry! the divorce!

honestly most of my vitriol towards him comes from over a decade now of having an extremely negative experience with what I fully recognize are not all his fans but a vocal group of people who plague the Bioware fandom who are just as bigoted as your average fanboy but in a way they can dress up as "social justice." I've said a lot about how I think the Circle and apostates is just straight up a bad metaphor for systemic oppression (see also: any setting with supers and/or legitimately dangerous monsters as stand-in for oppressed people.) and I won't get into it too much here, but it's worth mentioning because I believe the mage rights discourse and Anders particularly attracts this crowd because you know he's a cute queer whiteboy with legitimate problems and pseudo-radical politics. but I was in the DA Tumblr fandom when Inquisition dropped I remember what group of fans on Tumblr who were particularly rabid in their hatred towards characters like Vivienne and Sera (who are both critical of mage freedom, mind.) 'Twas not primarily the Cullenites calling Vivienne an Uncle Tom, no matter what people will tell you now.

and I also get that there's this way Anders haters talk about him that makes even more otherwise reasonable fans dig their heels in about him. like any critique of him that boils down to "Anders bad because he did a terrorism and terrorism bad" is not really useful to me because yeah, I'm not super keen on bombings as the best course of political action, but terrorism is a very politically loaded and at this point somewhat meaningless term that is mostly used to justify extreme violence against a person or group by the state. I don't need to bring up real life examples because the politics of who is and isn't labeled a terrorist being shorthand for who is and isn't a person deserving of basic human rights has become so obvious over the last three decades that everyone knows at least one example of what I'm talking about. on top of that, I'm a big believer that fiction does not and should not exist in a vacuum and good art should provoke discussions about how we view people who do similar things that these fictional characters do. who are we being asked to give empathy to and who are we not? who are we naturally extending empathy to and who are we not? how do we immediately feel about these things? are we outraged? disgusted? moved? does sympathizing with these characters change our understanding of our personal ethical lines? are certain actions justified under dire circumstances or are there certain lines that should never be crossed? are people forever defined by it when they cross said lines? etc etc. none of these questions can be meaningfully answered by "no, thing bad because thing bad."

that being said, I still come down on the side of Anders is a shitty person at the end of the day. not because he blew up that church or even because he tried to kill that girl, but because there's a consistent lack of compassion for the suffering and/or oppression of others the second someone doesn't fit his mold. because he's honestly pretty sexist and racist in universe. because his romance plot is just a series of progressively worsening red flags in a way that's in my opinion, less sexy and more like he's gonna start punching holes in the wall right next to you. because he's lowkey a tankie. and I've said it before and I'll say it til the day I die, we can have a discussion about how ableism influenced his writing, but at the end of the day, as a mentally ill anarchist, I know buckets and buckets of mentally ill leftist whiteboys who act like this. shit I know women and nonbinary people who act like this too. while I can understand that Bioware wasn't necessarily coming from the same perspective I am and think people are right to call his overarching storyline a tired centrist liberal take on the dangers of radicalism, his character writing still feels not only coherent as a character but very true to a particular type of ain't shit anarchist boy I have encountered over and over. i cannot dismiss his flaws and worst moments as bad writing because I feel like I personally know this asshole.

for example, I once made a post about Dissent years and years ago where I was talking about Anders/Justice/Vengeance/whoever we're calling him depending on what's most useful in the moment's outburst of violence towards Ella through the lens of male entitlement even in leftist circles and like yeah I was being a little tongue in cheek about it because a) I'm pretty tongue in cheek in general, b) I have a tendency to get even more tongue in cheek when I'm talking about things that hit a little too close to home to me, and c) that quest is frankly terrifying if you've lived a life that makes you relate more to Ella in that scene than to Anders. I think it was something along the lines of "people can call Anders a revolutionary all they want but when a mage girl was afraid of him instead of grateful for his rescue, he tried to kill her. [insert anarcho-feminist ranting here]" and I remember someone arguing with me about how that's not what happened at all and how even though I was being pithy, their take on the situation was so utterly removed from what occurs that I had to go back and watch the scene to make sure I wasn't the one completely misremembering it which made me realize just how much Anders has been completely rewritten in parts of the fandom consciousness.

which in and of itself is not really a problem. I know some people just don't care for interacting with fanon at all and want to stay as true to canon as possible and I'm like that sometimes, but there are lots of characters I'm like "oh, I don't like how their story went in canon or think the writer had a neat idea but is too misogynistic to handle her in a way I like and I'm going to basically put them in an AU where they developed their traits in a different way and I can recognize this is more or less my version of them." there's characters I don't care for in canon but I love someone else's fanon version of them. I'm even fine with people doing this with Anders, if they want. I've read really good fic with him that is not my take but hey you do you, this is what transformative fandom is for after all. but I do get more than a little prickly when I'm interacting with my reading of canon that is of course informed by my experiences but still discussing something that just literally happens and someone tells me I'm wrong because of what basically amounts to their fanfics, you know?

anyway that's my very long post about my complicated and extremely nuanced Anders feelings. great character, shitty person, his fans are either really cool or really fucking not. also it's been almost fifteen years, and I still think we should've had Jowan in DA2 as a familiar face helping out in the mage underground to both flesh them out more and to serve as a middle ground between the more circle-aligned Orsino and the initially representing the mage underground before getting progressively more Kaczynski-esque, Anders, instead of Cullen just kind of hanging out in the templars not really doing anything.

#im on record as being extremely neutral on Cullen but man he sure is also there in DA2 #idk I don't feel he adds anything we're not getting from Templar Carver or the other five recurring templar characters in game #anyway Vivia Hawke is my cosmic plaything and personal chewtoy. when i think about how Anders outlives her I get all [s h r i e k s]#anders neg #asks

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incesthemes · 2 months ago

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20 fanfic author questions

oh omg thank you to both @according2thelore and @drowninginredink for the tag :) this seems fun!

1. How many works on AO3?

113! i've had my account since 2013 though lol

2. Total AO3 Word Count?

537,726. i think this is a respectable amount 😌

3. Top 5 fics by Kudos

well my most kudos'd fic (5,179) is for a [redacted] fandom so i will not broadcast that one... but the other four are 1. step by step (Haikyuu!!), 898 2. Wes Has Terrible Taste in Romance Novels (Danny Phantom), 652 3. drip (Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)), 397 4. two steps away (Haikyuu!!), 327

4. What fandoms do you write for?

currently it's supernatural and the terror! you can look for the rest of my cringe compilation on my ao3

5. Do you respond to comments?

i do! but only once every few months, all at once. i get so distracted, oopsieeeee

6. Angstiest Ending?

well idk, what constitutes as angst 🤔 that's the real question. i'll put bury me in consecrated ground and burning house on the list because why not. most of my fics tend to not have a Happy Ending because i don't really like happy endings 😭 so it's hard to sa!

7. Fic with the Happiest Ending?

uh hm. umm. i think i have to go back a few years for that one??? i have a few enstars fics that have happy endings. no one who follows me is here for that so i'll spare you the recs 😭

8. Do you get hate?

not anymore! i had haters in previous fandoms but that was mostly contained to twitter harassment campaigns. nowadays people leave me pretty much alone.

9. Do you write smut?

i have been learning to write it, but honestly sex is like 😭 unbearably boring to me. so if i do write smut it is like 5d chess mind games in the 7th dimension and i think it's probably kind of weird for people. i get good reviews on it though so i'm just gonna keep on keeping on

10. Do you write crossovers?

not really. if i take inspiration from another series i pretty much always put my own unique spin on it that removes most of the crossover elements. i don't care much for them really

11. Ever had a fic stolen?

not that i'm aware of, no. i've had other fanworks stolen though lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have, one time! into russian, i believe? it feels kind of crazy actually!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

i have one time, but i'm not a fan of it honestly 😭 not that my experience was bad! i wrote it with a friend and it was lots of fun. it's just not something i really enjoy in the end!

14. All time favorite ship?

hm. zelos/colette from tales of symphonia 😭 is anyone out there. is anyone hearing me. (the secret option is [redacted] from [redacted] but we're not talking about that no sirree)

15. WIPs you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

fantasy au. my ultimate fic. the million-word three-part epic based around the philosophical and theological concepts of eternal return and doubling as a variation on the proto-indo-european creation myth with a true ensemble cast of 40+ characters interweaving and affecting the plot in drastic ways ohhhhhhh lordy that fic was everything and more. i'm so proud of it. there's a 5% chance it'll ever get written past the 17k i've written already. sad!

16. Writing strengths?

i think i do description well, and narration? i get a lot of compliments on my dialogue and characterization, and the most common positive feedback i get is that i'm very good at eliciting emotions.

17. Writing Weaknesses?

i've struggled a lot in the past to structure my longer stories well, plot-wise! however once i realized i didn't have to write happy endings, i think i got a lot better at this, and now i'm putting a lot of practice in it to fine-tune this skill :)

18. Thoughts on mixed language dialogue?

i've... never considered this as something to ask a question about? i guess i really don't care, but i would prefer if there is research and at least a margin of expertise into the second language. google translate just to be cute does NOT cut it for me 😭 i have a degree in linguistics...

19. First fandom you wrote for?

tales of symphonia :) my true beloved. everything i wrote for it was so so bad. i think on them fondly

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

umm hmmmm oh no this is a very difficult question. and i don't have anything recent to provide either. which means i have to pull out the cringe compilation, oh no. idk if i can choose one single favorite but i will try to pick a top 3: 1. birds of flight 2. raindrops on roses 3. nightfall

i have been so afk from tumblr lately that i can't think of anyone to tag 😭 feel free to consider yourself tagged if you want to do this though!

#ask game #my fic #.txt

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futuristicdoormats789 · 5 months ago

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@theyonagoda was kind enough to tag me for the '9 books I want to read in 2025.' Thankyou very much for tagging me!

May We Be Spared To Meet On Earth [Currently Reading]: I'm loving this book so far even if it is most likely the hardest book I've had to read relating to the Franklin expedition - Not due to difficulty reading but because of how harrowing it is to read/look at drawings and letters from the people related and on the expedition. But so far its been amazing and I recommend it.

The Terror by Dan Simmons: This has been on my reading list for a while. I'm excited to read it even though I'm incredibly biased towards the portrayal of the characters from the show and am scared of the horrors they will endure in the book version. But I owe it to myself to give it a go!

Madhouse at The End of the Earth by Julian Sancton: Thanks to Terror Camp one of the first things I did this year is hunt down this book at my local bookstore. It is now with me and I am so ready to read it, especially after hearing Julian's talk at the keynote!

Frozen In Time by Beattie and Geiger: I've been meaning to read this book for a long while! Its highly recommended by all who have read it and I know I'm gonna love every second of it. While I've read so much about the Franklin expedition, Frozen In Time seems like a fantastic and comprehensive read over the events. I also think it includes in depth information regarding the Beechey bodies which I am so looking forward to reading about.

Unraveling the Franklin Mystery by David Woodman: This is probably the book I am the MOST excited to read though it has some obvious steep competition. I've heard only amazing things about this book and I cannot wait to dive in and read it myself.

Erebus by Michael Palin: I read HMS Terror by Mathew Betts towards the end of last year and am now prepared to read about her sister ship Erebus! They are both such fascinating ships and I really love Palin's writing style (I believe he wrote the foreword for May We Be Spared and it was excellent).

-- That's my current reading list for Franklin Expedition/Polar Exploration related books. Please if you have any further recommendations on this topic send them my way! I am always on the hunt --

Tales of Horror by H.P. Lovecraft: A collection of Lovecraft's horror stories. Although I haven't read much Lovecraft (besides Mountains of Madness) I really want to sink my teeth into more of what he has to offer. Hoping to hunker down and read some of these stories this year.

Persuasion by Jane Austen: Been trying to read some more 'classics' recently and found this book at my bookstore. From what I've read I really enjoy her writing style.

Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky: I've seen this name floating around for years and always wanted to read it. I found it on the same trip to the bookstore and couldn't resist picking it up. Really interested in the story and presentation of this one.

I tag the following people because I love you all: @johnnyy-guitarr, @copperphysics106, @thepratandtheidiot, @sunlaire, @killyourrdarlingss, @rysingsun, @fitzjamesbulletwound, @dead-freight @boatswainer @bell-swamp-fitzjames @lazyfox411 @speedruntechnically @leadandblood @rappa I am sure I missed so many people so if any muties see this and want to do it please tag me so I can read your lists thanks beauties <3

#books #personal book list #gonna use this post to remember all my books lol #thankyou again for the tag mwah

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echoingbirdsofprey · 6 months ago

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Of Love And War

1 - Crash Into You

Pairing: Commander Cody x OFC Azura Shain

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: canon typical violence, normal swearing, straddling the line of canon divergent/compliant

A/N: I'm posting these to Tumblr finally and I haven't written for this in like two years so I'm hoping re-reading and posting with ignite some inspiration to keep going on these because I really enjoyed them and I have so much in my drafts for this series. Please enjoy! If you want to be added to a tag list (for this one or any of my fics) just shoot me a message!

The first time Azura had met Commander Samson was when the 478th Battalion brought her Master's body back to the Jedi Temple. She wept for her Master. She'd taken Azura under her wing and not only as a Padawan but like a daughter. Samson had taken a hold of the Jedi, embracing her so tight he worried he was hurting her, but she never complained. She sobbed against his armor and he allowed her as long as she needed. When she felt she was able to, which was surprisingly not hours like she thought, but a few minutes, she pulled away from the Clone Commander and glanced up at him, eyes puffy and red. He gently wiped her cheeks with his thumbs but said nothing. He didn't know what to say except "sorry for your loss" but he felt she valued a quiet, supportive presence instead.

At the funeral, the Council allowed Azura and some of Penryn's Clone Troopers to pay their respects first before any other Jedi were allowed to. Times were changing. With all of the recent CIS terrorism, access to the Temple had been restricted. There were never public funerals for the Jedi anyway but Azura was surprised that the Council allowed the Clones. She felt as though there was something bigger at play here. Samson had stepped forward, cutting a piece of the Togruta's robes with his knife. He handed the scrap to Azura who tearfully but thoughtfully received it.

"I don't know a thing about Togrutas but Mandalorian tradition dictates that a loved one may carry something of the deceased to remember and honor them by. And with the way she talked about you, she certainly loved you the most." He explained and Azura simply nodded. He knew the traditions of her birth family and she appreciated that very much. Azura wrapped the blue piece of cloth around her wrist for now but she would later wrap the hilt of one of her sabers with it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Penryn Tethras was a slender woman, a Togruta, skin a lavender color, her montrals striped a darker purple and light grey. She wore dark blue robes, and when Azura was allowed to pick hers she wanted the same. Azura was ten years old when her parents brought her to the Temple. She'd shown great sensitivity to the Force already, which scared her parents half to death. The Council wasn't going to let her become a Padawan but Master Tethras begged them. She pleaded, seeing potential in the young Mandalorian girl.

"She has a good heart. Can you not see that?" Penryn asks as she strides through the halls of the Jedi Temple besides Master Yoda and Master Windu.

"Fearful she is. Very fearful. Hard to overcome that is." Was Yoda's only remark at the moment. Mace Windu nodded in agreement.

"She has untapped power for sure. I do sense a great deal of good in her but she must be taught to focus. You will need to be strict with her. Is that something you are willing and able to do?" Mace asked, pausing in his steps. Penryn sighed heavily.

"I cannot be cold if that's what you are asking of me. Firm, yes. I can give her boundaries. I can help her focus. She can become confident. I feel it." She assured them.

" Then it's all on you to make her the Jedi you feel she can be." Mace affirmed and Penryn bowed to the older Masters, nearly running off to find the young girl whom she'd just adopted essentially.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Azura's thirteenth name day was the one she remembered the most. More so than any previous one with her actual parents. Penryn had asked the barely four foot tall Padawan to come to her quarters. She had a small table set up. At it was a cake, and next to it looked to be a blue kyber crystal.

"Who got the cake?" Azura asked, sitting across from Penryn.

"Aayla got it for you. And I also got you something very special." Penryn said, picking the kyber crystal up.

"Hold out your hands." Penryn placed it in Azura's palms. She felt the crystal vibrate slightly as if it was happy to be with her

"I saw you working on a second saber hilt. I think you could wield two sabers if you work hard enough."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Penryn, look!" Azura says, twirling her dual sabers in a fantastical and showy display of skill. Penryn smiles and claps. She steps toward Azura as she douses her sabers' lights.

"You've been practicing quite a bit. You're getting quicker with your hands." Penryn pulls Azura in for a tight embrace.

"Are you okay?" Azura's voice sounds panicked. Penryn certainly showed her share of affection but it was an odd time for her to hug Azura. Or perhaps not. She could hear the warmth and pride in Penryn's voice.

"I'm fine. I recommended you to start your trials. You're ready. I'm being sent on a mission to Geonosis, so I won't be able to be here. But I wanted to wish you the most luck... But I know you'll pass."

" If I pass though, that means I won't be your Padawan anymore..."

" It does. That just means we can go on better adventures together. Bigger, more important ones. And it's not if you pass, it's when because you will. I have so much faith in you. I love you very much, tunguma."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For ten years, Master Tethras raised Azura as her own. She kept Azura out of trouble. She kept her honest, humble, and hard working. Azura never skipped a meditation, never skipped a study session, and especially never missed a day training with her sabers once she'd crafted them. If she was sick, she was still out in the training yard, perfecting the use of one and eventually two sabers. Master Tethras couldn't be more proud when Azura was ready for her Trials. And unfortunately her final test was the loss of her Master. In the same day she'd felt like she'd lost a part of her soul, she was knighted as a Jedi.

"As a Knight now, you have a new assignment. With the start of the Clone Wars, your Master had been assigned the 478th Battalion. It is clear to us that the command of the Battalion should be handed down to you, as her Padawan and her most trusted companion. This is your next test towards becoming a Master." Master Windu explained and all Azura could do was bow and thank the Council. When she headed out to meet her battalion she recognized the Clone Commander whose arms she'd ended up in as they brought her Master's body to the burial chambers.

"I'm sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I thought it wrong at the time. I'm CC-4338, Commander Samson of the 478th Battalion. You must be General Shain?" Azura's face contorted at the title. Who was she right now? Jedi Knight Azura? Master Tethras' Padawan? General Azura Shain? Too many titles at once had her head reeling.

"Just call me Azura please. And is it fine if I call you Samson? I'd rather not call you by a number."

" Oh...Uh...I mean sure...I guess. Whatever you want, General, err...Azura..." Samson stumbled over his words, trying to figure out a coherent response in a reasonable amount of time. At that moment he heard the cutest giggle leave her lips and he was sold. Like a moth to a flame he was hooked. He smiled and he hated that he had his bucket on. He wanted to tell her she had a cute laugh but he didn't dare.

"So where are we headed to?" Azura asks, knowing Samson has already been briefed on their first mission together.

"Headed to the Outer Rim. Murkhana."

"I've...never been there..." Azura said glancing around at the starship they were entering.

" Neither have I." Samson said, shooting her a look with which she could guess he was smirking by the sound of his voice.

Indigo Squad was composed of Commander Samson, Captain Sky, Lieutenant Emden, Lieutenant Zazou, and Medic Atom.

Azura moved her dark auburn, lengthy hair from one shoulder to another. Her Commander placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze. While these men were bred and trained for war, Azura was not. Yes, she was trained in several different forms of lightsaber combat but nothing had prepared her for all out war. Conflict was not something she wished to deal with, however in battle she was exceptional. She'd become agile and stealthy but steady and patient. She wielded two sabers, both a light blue in blade color. She clipped them to her belt. She wore a similar black under layer to the Clone Troopers, as well as boots, shin armor, and gauntlets with a comm pad. She wore a skirted grey and purple accented armor that attached to her belt. It was similar to the kama that the ARCs wore except shorter and more triangular at the bottom.

She glanced around at her men, decorated like any other battalion, but their armor was painted with a deep purple striping. There were several ARC troopers in her ranks, and then there was Samson. Commander Samson. Faithful almost to a fault, Samson was glued to his General's side. He donned the ARC trooper double pauldrons, purple piping on black kamas, dual DC-17s, a jet pack, and a DC-15 long range rifle. He was younger looking than some of the other Commanders but he took his training so seriously and rose through the ranks quicker than any in his batch. Samson sported a high and tight cut as well a full beard. If he were to shave his beard it would reveal a large dent in the bone of his jaw on the left side. This was an injury from his training on Kamino, the butt of a rifle connecting with his face.

Then there was Atom, their Medic. He specialized in trauma surgery so dealing with emergencies on the fly is what he lives for. He's still pissed at Sky for not letting him put a cybernetic eye in when Sky had to have his right eye removed. Atom didn't sugarcoat anything, but told you how things were in a nice way. His hair was curly and messy under his bucket. His ARC pauldrons carried the medic symbol and while he's not as buff as some of the other guys he could still kick someone's ass if you needed him to. The other three, Captain Sky, Lieutenant Emden, and Lieutenant Zazou usually traveled as a trio. A trio of chaos. The three of them had expertise with heavy weaponry, ARC trooper training, and if you let them, they can pretty much fix anything. The GAR had no idea that they'd modified several light fighters with advanced weapons systems beyond what came stock. Sky was much like Samson in that he was faithful to Azura but he spoke up less. Because of his eye injury he'd become withdrawn. When around his brothers, he was a sarcastic little shit, but around new people he was quiet and respectful. Sky rarely took his helmet off but when he did he sported a high and tight cut with a goatee. And obviously the hole where his eye was missing but his other eye seemed to sparkle a bright golden brown with life. Emden was all around chaotic. He was quick witted and he charged in head first to everything. That got him trouble more times than one. Emden sported a full beard and taller, curly hair on top, shaven sides. He had scars running from just under his ear down his neck and onto his chest. Azura had seen the full display one morning when he burst into her cabin to wake her up. They were deep shrapnel cuts from his first deployment on Geonosis. Then there was Zazou. He was Indigo's saving grace. Quiet but tactful, Zazou could talk Emden out of a bad idea and into an even better one. He was the best mechanic of them all too. He could fix anything from a Venator's hyperdrive to a droid's memory banks. He could also hack. And he'd taught his Squad some of those skills as well. Zazou kept his face shaven at all times but sported a high falling mohawk with intricate swirling designs on either side of his head in the shorter shaved hair. He had several tattoos in aurebesh, saying his CT number, Indigo Squad, and 'Zaz'ika' which was a nickname Emden had come up with that Zazou had come to enjoy hearing everyone once in a while.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Murkhana. It had been devastating to the citizens. The planet was scarred and would remain that way for several long years afterwards. It was the first time Azura had seen real battle, real death and destruction. It was terrifying. More than once, Azura fell into Samson's arms, breaking down, seeing the chaos that was war. He would hold her tightly, waiting until she stopped shaking.

"This isn't what we're supposed to do. We're not supposed to kill people." Her hands trembled on his armor and he caressed her hair. She glanced up at him, tears welling.

" Well... people aren't supposed to get in the way. We evacuated who we could. It's not our fault if people decided to stay."

Mimban was Samson's least favorite place. Mimban was a disgusting, muddy mess of a planet.

"I wish our helmets filtered out the smell." He would say and then gag. His Captain, Sky, would laugh hysterically and more than once, Samson pushed him down into the mud. The lieutenant, Emden, would take more mud in hand and throw it as if it were a snowball at his brothers. He made sure he never hit Azura with a mudball because he knew she'd hit him back tenfold and laugh about it.

"I was born to be dirty." Sky said, earning chuckles out of the rest of the men. Azura would shake her head and tell them to be nicer to each other. Her sabers were their best source of light at times in the sense fog that came with the humidity of the planet. She got good at deflecting blaster fire that she couldn't see coming. It was also the first time she'd have an injury that would put her out of commission for almost a month.

Felucia, another wet, sticky jungle of a planet introduced the 478th to working with another company. The 327th Star Corps were stationed there initially and then had required back up. Azura became good friends with General Secura. She reminded Azura a little bit of Penryn. She was methodical, thorough, and firm with her men, but she had a soft spot for her Commander Bly. With the help of General Secura, Azura learned of her unexpected power to heal through the Force.

An evening around the fire, taught Azura the ins and outs of Bly and Aayla's relationship which was in its infancy but already so strong. She studied the two as they sat together, looking over the datapad. Her hand would linger on top of his. His hand would meet her knee and stay there. He would shift closer, then she would, right up until they were as close as they could get. How could they stand it with all their armor and how hot and humid it was? Azura might get it one day.

That was the one thing the Council didn't want the padawans learning. Love. Yes, they needed to know what love was but the attachment to another being so much that it clouds their judgement was frowned upon. Bly and Aayla were quick to come together but they were also good at keeping things separate. Good at keeping what was personal out of their professional life.

Devaron and Cato Nemoidia were long campaigns and they took many men from the 478th. Azura had suffered another serious injury just before and she became a little more cautious about just charging head first into things. Down the road she'd look back and say she'd forgotten in the moment and that she'd never learn.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

TWENTY ONE BBY

"Where are we off to next?" Emden asked. The rest of the battalion formed up and headed to their gunships. Emden, Atom, Zazou, and Sky would travel with a company of fifteen including Azura and Samson in the lead gunship.

"We're headed to Geonosis to help reinforce General Kenobi's forces at Point Rain." The ship lifted off and out of the hangar of the Ankarres, the Venator class star destroyer, which Azura also inherited from her Master. The past year had given her much to reflect upon. She'd found out what war was but she'd also found real friendship and comraderie in her squad. As they began the descent to the dusty and arid planet of Geonosis, they overhead transmissions coming from other gunships.

"Cody, get the tanks down!"

"Copy that Pilot, begin landing sequence!"

"Bugs incoming!"

"General Kenobi, don't land, the zone is hot!"

"We're hit, we're going down!"

Samson and Azura glanced at each other and then their men. He had to yell over the explosions.

"Sounds like a lot of flak. We're gonna get shot down if we keep going!" Samson yelled up to him and glanced at Azura, awaiting a decision.

"Pilot, put us down here! We'll go on foot to the landing zone and you can drop your tank here to reinforce us from behind." She said, making the call she hoped was the right one.

"Yes, sir!"

Azura and her men land successfully. They may have been the only ones who landed and didn't get shot down...she had no idea. She only knew they had to get to the rendezvous point as soon as possible. She ignited her sabers and jumped out of the gunship, deflecting heavy fire, with her guys right behind her. Samson and Sky used her as a shield and fired rapidly on the bugs as they pushed forward toward Point Rain. As they pressed on, they could see other tanks and gunships just ahead. They must not have been far from the landing zone anyway.

"Reinforcements have arrived!" Clones who were already there shouted and cheered as Azura's squad and another, General Skywalker's, ran up. She saw General Kenobi sitting against a gear box on the ground. He was clearly injured.

"Master Kenobi are you alright?" She kneeled down and placed a hand on his shoulder comfortingly. He put his hand on her arm and smiled weakly.

"Oh...Azura...am I glad to see you. I was worried when we hadn't heard from you that you'd gotten shot down."

"No, Master. We landed just outside the zone and made the rest of the way on foot. Lots of heavy fire but we came through okay. How are your men holding up?"

"They're okay. We're going to regroup and figure out a way to get to the shield generator."

As the other battalions began to trickle in they set up a holotable by Kenobi who was trying to rest. General Mundi and Skywalker as well as his Padawan, Ahsoka stood around the table. Captain Rex, Commander Jet, and Commander Cody stood there as well. Commander Samson placed himself right next to Azura. They devised a plan to get behind enemy lines and destroy the shield generator as well as the factory. It wouldn't take them terribly long to complete this mission.

Azura's men had stayed and reinforced the drop zone along with most of Kenobi's men and they also began to pack up supplies so that they could move on and begin a mission to find the Geonosian leader, Poggle the Lesser.. They had a small amount of down time before the Venators arrived to pick up the gunships and tanks so Azura and her men got to fixing a couple of the heavy machines. She'd noticed that Commander Cody had hung back as well, taking careful watch of his General who was injured seriously. He'd loaded onto a transport so he could get to a med bay on one of the destroyers. They'd given him a bacta-shot but he needed more aggressive treatment. Cody made his way over to the tank Azura, Samson, and Emden were working on. Azura could fiddle with some things and get them to work but she was by no means a mechanic. Samson and Emden were very skilled though so she relegated herself to handing them tools and helping lift things and hold them in place.

"General..." She heard a voice, deeper and more assertive than her men, from behind her and glanced back.

"Commander Cody." She smiled and went back to concentrating on holding the hydraulic lines in place for Samson as he secured them back to the vehicle.

"General Kenobi very much appreciated your quick response. He speaks very highly of you. I wanted to introduce myself but it seems you already knew who I was." His arms were placed behind his back and he stood at attention. This made him seem much taller to Azura than he probably was. Samson glanced at Cody and then back to Azura. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, earning a glare from Azura. He smirked and went back to fastening the lines on.

"Very nice to meet you Commander." She said, blushing slightly at his comment. It was nice that Obi-Wan spoke highly of her, probably because of her Master. Her Master, Penryn Tethras, did speak highly of her, all the time. But Penryn also spoke of her dedication and loyalty to the Order. And loyalty was everything to these Clones. Azura thought also of the fact that Cody felt the need to come over and introduce himself. He didn't have to do that. He didn't have to give her the time of day. He was the Marshal Commander for Maker's sake.

"Why is it that you wanted to introduce yourself, Commander?" Samson climbed down and examined the other lines. He handed Azura his tools as she asked this.

"Well...General Kenobi asked if I could potentially convince you to help us with a recon mission to find Poggle. You command a lot of ARC troopers who are very good at what they do. We're putting together a squad in addition to Ghost Company." He explained, leaning against the gear boxes next to the tank. Emden hopped down out of the side door of the tank.

"Topside looks good. Ready to check under the belly of the beast?" Emden asked Samson. Samson leaned down, his hands meeting his knees. He glanced at Cody and then Azura.

"We go if you go, Azura, you know that." He ducked slightly, walking under the tank and Emden followed, whacking his head as he went.

"Fuck!"

"Should've kept your bucket on." Samson joked. Cody looked at Azura expectantly. She nodded.

"We'll go, for sure."

"Excellent, I'll let General Kenobi know when he's back down here. Do you mind if I help out? There's not really much else for me to do at the moment. I haven't played around with one of these since Kamino." Cody reached for the tools and Azura's fingers met his there. They both drew away, the contact awkward. Samson's eyebrows wiggled at Emden who snorted loudly.

"We'd appreciate your help, Commander. C'mon under." Samson said, sliding over slightly so that Cody could stand next to him. Cody removed his helmet and placed it down on the gear box next to theirs. Azura noticed he had a long, deep scar that trailed just around his left eye. Any closer and he probably would've lost his eye. She wanted to ask how he got it but decided that was maybe not the best idea at the moment. She'd save that question for another time. Samson was already disassembling pieces under the tank and throwing them towards Azura. Cody got to work disconnecting and reconnecting wires.

"It doesn't look too bad. Just needs some minor pieces. Can you find new ones in the gear boxes of those three couplings and those wires?" He asked, handing some of the wiring to Cody. He placed them in her hands and she picked up the couplings as well. Her Captain, Sky, made his way over to her as she was shuffling around the boxes.

"Need some help?" He asked, examining the numbers on the couplings."

"Sure. I need wires too. Something to cut them." He handed her the wire cutters and a soldering tool, and carried the couplings for her. He kneeled down and she stood expectantly next to the tank. The three men underneath looked over, surprised at how quickly she came back.

"You're not half bad at this mechanic stuff you know." Emden said, taking the wires from her.

"I can find you things easily. I'd never be able to put it together correctly though."

"Why not come under here and learn then?" Cody suggested, motioning for her to come under with them. Samson was quiet, but a smirk played on his lips that had Emden trying hard not to laugh. He wasn't sure if Cody realized how it looked to them but it for sure looked like he was hardcore flirting with their General. Azura shot a look at Sky and he gave her a little push under the tank.

"Watch your head..." Cody said, putting a hand up to protect her from knocking her head on the metal pieces that we're sticking out. He scooted just a bit closer to Samson so that she could stand enough so she could see what he was doing. Samson had to give it to him. Cody wasn't an idiot and if he was trying to get with their General he was certainly stepping in the right direction. Samson watched carefully as Cody's hands deftly removed the broken parts. Azura took them and handed them to Sky.

"So here...this wire has to go. It's fraying. You can cut it." He handed her the cutters. She inched in front of him, stretching to her tip-toes and reaching up to cut the wire. Azura was a little nervous at the closeness to the Clone Commander. She didn't know him well enough to feel comfortable being this close to him. It was different with Samson because they barely spent any time away from each other except to sleep and use the refresher. Samson had offered to show her how to fix up things before but she hadn't been terribly interested in it. She could see a small smile sticking to his lips as he worked, his eyes darting to her every once in a while.

"Now we can put in the new wire and the coupling. So take the wire and place it just slightly over the other and then we'll solder it together." Cody said, handing her the new wire. She placed it just over the other. It wasn't quite lined up straight so Cody placed his fingers over hers and straightened it but guided her fingers so she could get the feel of it herself. He gave her the solder tool and the wires came together nicely. Next he handed her the couplings and she screwed them in and he then tightened them up.

"Looks great. Now you can do these by yourself next time."

"You might have to show me a few more times before I can do it by myself." Her cheeks felt red hot. Cody was so close to her and she hadn't noticed before but his hand had landed on her back. She said nothing because she was actually okay with it the more she thought about it. No, she didn't know him well but he seemed very easy to get along with. She'd heard stories about him being a tough but fair Commander. He was good to his men and he was being exceptionally nice helping her learn about fixing this tank.

"General. The Ankarres and Resolute are here to pick us up and bring us to the main command center." Zazou, one of her ARCs said as he approached. Azura nodded, awkwardly stepping away from Cody and out from under the vehicle.

"They've got good timing. We just finished up this tank. It's usable now." Samson said as he once again ducked. " Now Emden, let's not hit our head again." Emden shot him the dirtiest look he could and stuck his tongue out.

"Thanks for letting me help out." Cody put his helmet back on but not before giving Azura a warm smile.

"Any time Commander. We appreciate your help." She said, her tone cheery. Her eyes followed him as he began to walk away toward where some of his battalion was gathered. Samson lightly punched Azura's shoulder.

"I think he was flirting with you, General." He declared, earning several chuckles from her ARC troopers and the Captain

"But did he know he was?" Her hands rested on her hips.

"I'm pretty sure he did." Samson's brow raised on one side. "It's against military regulations to be involved with a Jedi but hey, I don't have a problem with that...if you were wondering." He clapped a hand on her shoulder, fitting his helmet back over his messy hair.

"Didn't know I needed your approval." She retorted, grinning at him.

"You can do whatever you want. I approve." He said as they began to stroll to the gunship that would take them up to the Ankarres.

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