#like molly did nothing to deserve what happened to her

[tethered-heartstrings]

genuinely not trying to dunk on molly but when ppl say will and molly were so compatible they loved dogs i just think of molly feeding them canned food from china and not even knowing it could harm the dogs, i feel like this is significant because this was what led to dolarhyde being undetected and her attack which led to her estrangement from will, even her common values w will she did not actually share at all there's a meta here

ngl this is pretty clearly dunking on molly. But let’s refute. I personally haven’t seen many metas/posts about the compatibility between will and molly, so I can’t really contest what they say. However, will and her were as compatible as will led her to believe, as much as he would let. He lied to her about his past, which made it so she couldn’t know all of him and couldn’t connect to parts she couldn’t see. Not a fault of molly’s at all

Having looked back on the script for that episode, no credible veterinarian would ever say “was it canned food from china”. It’s unprofessional and xenophobic. Also, a vet in an emergency situation isn’t going to use scare tactics. They just need to know what went in so they can take care of it. Yes, molly was feeding the dogs canned food because will was out of town so he couldn’t make them food. and I can guarantee will is rational enough to say “hey, these brands are okay” and molly isn’t stupid. And they are very well off, so they would need to buy “cheap dog food from china”. If we want to talk about the dialogue in that scene, we have to admit to ourselves fuller is a misogynist who can’t write women, so ofc he made her say “is it bad to be made in china”. It also neglects how SOME but not ALL food has shown problems, but dog food made in the US has also had toxicity issues! And (I can’t remember if this was in show or just in script) the vet says “pet food safety isn't regulated the same way as human food” which is just false. There is high regulation in pet food, and pet food is made to be human grade and safe for human consumption (and has been for decades). Dogs are more likely to be poisoned by xylitol or chocolate from your candy or get pancreatitis from your table scraps than die from “dog food from china”.

But let’s humor for a second it was the cheap dog food molly bought. The concern and toxic component is melamine, which is added to food to fraudulently increase the protein content. it’s nontoxic (ish) by itself and only becomes a problem when combined with cyanuric acid that forms a crystal and leads to renal toxicosis and failure. Some gi biomes have bacteria that can convert melamine to cyanuric acid, but not all, making it more toxic for these patients. It also wasn’t solely a dog food thing, it happened in human children, too. All that aside, most melamine toxicosis cases are chronic, aka molly would have had to feed the dogs for a while, building up these crystals, and slowly killing the kidneys. This wouldn’t happen suddenly to all the dogs at once. Early signs of toxicosis are very detectable symptoms (vomiting, polyuria, polydipsia, lethargy) and these are signs molly would have noticed and done something about. ALSO if it was melamine the veterinarian was worried about, she wouldn’t use activated charcoal as her treatment (as she states in script, again, don’t remember if this was said in the show). Activated charcoal only works for something currently in the stomach, and that isn’t the pathophysiology for melamine. To treat melamine toxicity, you need iv fluids and supportive care. So what we can take from the veterinarian interaction is 1) fuller doesn’t know how medical professional talk to clients and 2) he doesn’t even understand the toxin he mentioned so it feels xenophobic as fuck to even bring that up.

And no, her canon (fuck you fuller) ignorance to the danger of canned dog food isn’t the cause of dolarhyde being undetected and attacking her. Even if she was feeding them dog food with melamine, Will literally figures out and says that dolarhyde poisons the dogs in the family to get rid of the “alarm system”, so he can attack and not have the family alerted. It didn’t matter what dog food molly fed them, dolarhyde intentionally poisoned them. Even if she fed them food will handmade, dolarhyde would have still poisoned them. And she was a good owner who brought all 7 (probably) puking dogs to the vet as soon as she could. molly had nothing to do with dolarhyde attacking her. dolarhyde had something to do with dolarhyde attacking her (and hannibal ofc). At least give her some credit for, you know, surviving

And no, her getting attacked was not the cause of will estranging himself from her. He never really loved her and used her as a fill in for a man he outright rejected. He was having an emotional affair with Hannibal and not giving a shit about molly. That was nothing molly could control.

And we really can’t thoroughly discuss her values because we barely see her onscreen. Her screentime is a plot motivator, we aren’t privy to who she is as a person. She loves her son, lost her first husband, and loves will. That’s kind of it. Oh, yeah, she also takes her son fishing without Fisherman Husband because he chose to estrange himself.

[mrm0rgansw0man]

no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her

summary:

arthur morgan knew he was the type of man that shouldn’t risk falling in love, but jesus she just made it so hard NOT to

a/n: first fic!! inspired by work song by hozier lol. hope y’all enjoy it Xx 💗

re-uploading this fic on my new account because im planning on making a second part of it! should be out soon :) Xx

‘Arthur Morgan, you fool’ He thought to himself, mentally swearing for catching himself staring at their camps newest member yet again. But he just couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in this. It was stupid really, any attempt at love in the past had failed him. All because of this life he chose to live. One that wasn’t easy to leave behind. Though Arthur knew, if you asked him to he’d throw it all away. God this man would do anything for you, he practically worshiped the ground you walked on. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by you, maybe it was your honey sweet voice, or the kindness you showed him right from your first day of knowing him. He couldn’t stop himself from loving every little thing about you, to him you were perfect. A goddamned goddess. He thought you deserved someone better than him. A woman such as yourself deserved to live a good life, one where the law isn’t out to get you. One where people could be out to hurt you because of your husband’s line of work. You deserved to feel safe and secure in your life. Nothing like the chaos you were living through now.

Little did Arthur know, you were feeling the exact same way about him. You had deep feelings for Arthur Morgan, you were as sweet like sugar on that man. You loved everything about him, but most of all how he treated you. He made 100% sure you felt safe and were taken care of all the time. You were one of the first people he’d check up on when returning from a job. Or you mentioned something you needed and the next day he would just so happen to need to run to town and what do you know, the exact scarf, seasoning, hair ribbon, you name it would be included in his haul. And if he was around at meal times, he would not so subtly make sure you got your portion. All of this and yet, he rarely said a word to you. It confused you to no end, it felt like he cared about you deeply but he rarely paid any attention to you. You were a lost soul before you started riding with the Van Der Lindes, and because of the Blackwater situation it was hard for the gang to let in a new mouth to feed. But ever since the beginning Arthur made you feel so welcomed. You don’t know what you did do deserve his kindness but it was deeply appreciated. Mary-Beth was CONVINCED Arthur was sweet on you, so we’re Tilly, Molly, Abigail, Karen, goodness even Susan Grimahaw herself made a comment about it you once. You wanted to believe it so badly, but he didn’t talk to you!! He could just be a kind man of little words and you’re reading into the situation all wrong.

‘Oh well…’ You thought with a sigh, flicking your eyes up from the needle work you had long been neglecting because of your thinking. To your surprise, you found a pair of beautiful blue eyes already looking in your direction…

~~~~~~~

“Shit!” Arthur swore under his breath, god dammit you were still as a staute for ages before this why’d you have to look up now?? Arthur begrudgingly tore my eyes away from t and started walking to his horse- where he was supposed to be already. Hosea wanted to take him into town for some reason he had yet to say.

“Arthur!” Hosea said warmly. He then raised an eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here?”

‘Oh I this is NOT goin’ there.’ Arthur thought.

“Course not.” He said flatly. Hosea smiled a knowing smile, before long they mounted thier horses and were off.

The ride to Valentine was thankfully silent and quick. But Arthur knew that was going to change as soon as Hosea informed him that he was taking Arthur to the saloon to “Chat over a drink” With such a grin on his face that Arthur knew he was nothing short of doomed.

After getting situated at the bar with a neat whiskey and a beer, Hosea start talking to Arthur, though it felt more like he was speaking AT at him. Making little remarks about love and what it does for people. Sharing little stories of “the joys of marriage.” …..very sneaky, Hosea.

“Hosea…. Please get to whatever point it is yer tryin’ to make here.” Arthur said, cutting into his rambling.

“Arthur….” He cooed, sounding like he was talking to some schoolyard boy. “I’ve been watching you pine over (Name) for MONTHS.”

Arthur said nothing. Nothing but a silent prayer that his cheeks weren’t burning a fiery shade of red.

“I know you’re sweet on her, it’s as obvious as a wolf standing in a pack of sheep!”

Arthur ran a hand over my face and let out a tired sigh. Hosea sipped his beer, waiting for him to respond.

“What ‘m I supposed’t say?” Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms over my chest. ‘God, what a pathetic fool I am.’ Arthur thought. “Not like she’d want an ugly bastard like me ‘nyway.”

“On the contrary! Hosea chuckles. “I was walking by the women’s tent last nigh- couldn’t sleep. Wanted to walk a bit to clear my head- and my boy you should’ve heard the things (Name) was saying about you!”

At that, Arthur sat up a little straighter. “What things…?” He asked, slightly wearily. Hosea smiled.

“Son, she’s fallen for you head first! If only you’d start speaking more then 2 words a week to her! You do so much for that girl Arthur, would it be so hard to do that too?”

He didn’t say anything. Learning that, by some fucking MIRACLE- the woman of his dreams has fallen for him was making his head spin. Could this really be happening?? Could this work?? A stab of pain shot through him as he remembered Mary, and how things ended with her. But this could be different, after all you were with the gang. You didn’t care about his life, you loved him despite it all…Arthur hadn’t dared let himself think that a love with you could possibly work out. The thought made him giddy. He felt dumb as rocks, feeling so strongly for you without ever saying a damn word to you. But he couldn’t let himself get to know you- he couldn’t bare to hear your silky voice say his name more then you already do. With such kindness, such love.He wanted to talk to you, to love you, to cherish you and worship you like you deserved to be, but-

“Hosea, I’m afraid.” Arthur said quietly. “Look at ‘er, I can’t drag this woman down the path I’m on. She doesn’t deserve a man like me.”

Hosea pushed Arthur’s untouched whiskey towards him, Arthur took the glass and downed it all in one go. He listened to Hosea’a next words at the fiery liquid settled in his stomach.

“Are you going to risk making that decision for her?”

~~~~~~~

You sat on the cold ground in front of the dying out campfire, grateful that everyone had fallen into their cots for the night. You loved the solitude of nighttime. It was so nice to be by yourself, enjoying the quiet peace of the stars above you.

Before long, your thoughts (as they always did) turned to Arthur Morgan. Hosea has returned to camp hours ago, telling you that Arthur should be back shortly. It’s been hours and still no sign of him. You knew it was normal, but you couldn’t help but worry while he was out of camp. Which was stupid really, you weren’t his girl. Just because he was kind didn’t mean you had to get your knickers all on a twist over him.

‘Damn your mysterious-ness Arthur Morgan….’

You only know you dozed off when the familiar sound of a horse whining woke you up. And then an even more familiar voice soothing the distressed animal.

“Easy girl…. Y’know I can’t spend all my time with ya’ don’t you?”

You stretched your arms out and listened to the sweet interaction. Despite him being the gang’s toughest enforcer, a wanted dead or alive outlaw, Arthur truly was a sweetheart. He treated all the women of the camp with the utmost respect and was such a help to any soul in need of. If only he knew how badly you needed him.

You from your spot on the ground, drawing the outlaws attention. He approached with a small smile.

“Glad it was jus’ you..” Arthur said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. You on the other hand were absolutely over the MOON at the fact that Arthur had finally decided to talk to you.

“Oh I hope you’re not too disappointed Mr. Morgan!” You said with a light chuckle. Arthur, not sensing your sarcasm through his nerves, panicked.

“N-no! Not at all, ma’am! I apologize if I came off that way-”

“I’m just teasing ya’ Arthur. It’s quite alright.” You said and smiled. A smile so sweet and bright Arthur could’ve melted on the spot. Your sweet smile, the way his name rolled off your lips. Arthur wasn’t a religious man, but he might as well have been in heaven.

“(Name)….” Arthur said, his sweet southern drawl when he said your name making you blush. “I’d like to apologize. For how I’ve been treatin’ you.”

“Oh Arthur! You’ve been nothin’ but kind to me since I’ve been here- whatever are you sorry for?” You asked him, genuinely shocked at the man’s statement. Were you talking to the same Arthur who took care of your horse for you, bought you ribbons to put in your hair, and watched over you like a protective hawk? Sure he didn’t speak to you much, but you knew he was a man of few words. Even if it hurt sometimes, could live with it. You didn’t need him to love you back for you to love him all the same. You’d almost accepted it. Almost.

Arthur sighed a deep and nervous sigh, his thoughts blurring and the several whiskeys he had in him were NOT helping. Not a bit.

“You see- well it’s, it’s just-” Arthur stammered- god he was making a complete FOOL of himself!

You stepped closer to Arthur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. You looked up at him nervously. The two of you had never been close as this. Arthur looked down at you, you had concern laced in your eyes. Concern for him. Your long hair was falling out of its messy braid, the loose strands framing your face beautifully. He could see the nights starts reflected in your eyes.

‘How beautiful..’ Arthur thought. He was completely captivated by you. ‘How could a woman like this be allowed to roam the same earth as someone like me..?’

Without even realizing what he was doing, Arthur pulled you flush against his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other reaching up to cup your chin. His touch was feather light as he stroked his thumb over your face.

“I ain’t never felt like this before Miss…” Arthur mumbled, leaning his forehead down to touch your. He didn’t have time to wonder (or thank) whatever divine force gave him to courage to do this. “You got me makin’ a fool outta myself…”

You let out a soft gasp at the a sudden touch from Arthur. You had only ever been like this in your sweetest dreams, was this really happening??

“Arthur…?” You whispered, questioning him. “Wha…What ‘re you d-”

That’s it. He couldn’t take it anymore. To hell with the risks, the past to hell with it all! He had come to love you more than life itself. You were exactly what he needed in his painful and cruel life.

You were such a loving soul, treating everyone and everything around you so kindly it was heartwarming. You give and give and GIVE to everyone around you. You never judged anyone around you for their actions- past or present. You picked up chores from the other women when they needed a break. You sung little Jack to sleep when Abigail was too exhausted to lift her head from her cot. You put braided flowers into your beautiful long hair whenever you had a moment to yourself. You smiled at him every morning when you left your tent to begin your day. You always kept the pink silk scarf he picked up for you and left in your tent with a note in the pocket of your skirt. You picked at nails and hummed when you were nervous. You loved staying up late, gazing at the stars and admiring the universe. He had pages upon pages of you doing exactly that sketched in his journal.

You were heaven sent. You were perfect. The world didn’t fucking deserve you.

Arthur slammed his lips down onto yours without wasting another moment. And he shuddered at the feelings of your lips finally being against his own. You kissed him back just has hard, standing on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. You felt his tongue slide against his bottom lip, and wasted not a moment opening your mouth to let him in.

Months of longing, tension, were fought out as your tongues pushed against each other. Of course Arthur won, you could barely contain the moan that was building in the back of your throat when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth like a starving man. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you would’ve fallen over. The sheer want and desperation of the kiss made your knees go completely weak.

Unfortunately, you both needed air and had to pull away. Arthur rested his forehead against your own. The both of you stood there, panting with closed eyes. Neither wanting the moment to end.

When you eventually opened your eyes, you looked up at Arthur. And couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Arthur wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist, and he smiled sweetly back at you. You both stood there for a moment, swaying gently back and forth as you embraced each other. The silence that fell between you both was comfortable and welcome as you gazed into each others eyes, both sharing the same look of love and adoration.

Arthur was the one who finally broke the silence between the two of you, and you will never forget his next words.

“Please darlin’” He whispered. “I’m beggin’ you… I want you to be my girl. I’m sorry I was a fool for such a long time-”

You leaned up on your tip toes and silenced him with a gentle kiss.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Mr. Morgan.”

[mrmorganswoman]

no grave can hold my body down, ill crawl home to her

summary:

arthur morgan knew he was the type of man that shouldn’t risk falling in love, but jesus she just made it so hard NOT to

a/n: first fic!! inspired by work song by hozier lol. hope y’all enjoy it Xx 💗

‘Arthur Morgan, you fool’ He thought to himself, mentally swearing for catching himself staring at their camps newest member yet again. But he just couldn’t help it. He knew he shouldn’t indulge in this. It was stupid really, any attempt at love in the past had failed him. All because of this life he chose to live. One that wasn’t easy to leave behind. Though Arthur knew, if you asked him to he’d throw it all away. God this man would do anything for you, he practically worshiped the ground you walked on. He didn’t know why he was so captivated by you, maybe it was your honey sweet voice, or the kindness you showed him right from your first day of knowing him. He couldn’t stop himself from loving every little thing about you, to him you were perfect. A goddamned goddess. He thought you deserved someone better than him. A woman such as yourself deserved to live a good life, one where the law isn’t out to get you. One where people could be out to hurt you because of your husband’s line of work. You deserved to feel safe and secure in your life. Nothing like the chaos you were living through now.

Little did Arthur know, you were feeling the exact same way about him. You had deep feelings for Arthur Morgan, you were as sweet like sugar on that man. You loved everything about him, but most of all how he treated you. He made 100% sure you felt safe and were taken care of all the time. You were one of the first people he’d check up on when returning from a job. Or you mentioned something you needed and the next day he would just so happen to need to run to town and what do you know, the exact scarf, seasoning, hair ribbon, you name it would be included in his haul. And if he was around at meal times, he would not so subtly make sure you got your portion. All of this and yet, he rarely said a word to you. It confused you to no end, it felt like he cared about you deeply but he rarely paid any attention to you. You were a lost soul before you started riding with the Van Der Lindes, and because of the Blackwater situation it was hard for the gang to let in a new mouth to feed. But ever since the beginning Arthur made you feel so welcomed. You don’t know what you did do deserve his kindness but it was deeply appreciated. Mary-Beth was CONVINCED Arthur was sweet on you, so we’re Tilly, Molly, Abigail, Karen, goodness even Susan Grimahaw herself made a comment about it you once. You wanted to believe it so badly, but he didn’t talk to you!! He could just be a kind man of little words and you’re reading into the situation all wrong.

‘Oh well…’ You thought with a sigh, flicking your eyes up from the needle work you had long been neglecting because of your thinking. To your surprise, you found a pair of beautiful blue eyes already looking in your direction…

~~~~~~~

“Shit!” Arthur swore under his breath, god dammit you were still as a staute for ages before this why’d you have to look up now?? Arthur begrudgingly tore my eyes away from t and started walking to his horse- where he was supposed to be already. Hosea wanted to take him into town for some reason he had yet to say.

“Arthur!” Hosea said warmly. He then raised an eyebrow. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here?”

‘Oh I this is NOT goin’ there.’ Arthur thought.

“Course not.” He said flatly. Hosea smiled a knowing smile, before long they mounted thier horses and were off.

The ride to Valentine was thankfully silent and quick. But Arthur knew that was going to change as soon as Hosea informed him that he was taking Arthur to the saloon to “Chat over a drink” With such a grin on his face that Arthur knew he was nothing short of doomed.

After getting situated at the bar with a neat whiskey and a beer, Hosea start talking to Arthur, though it felt more like he was speaking AT at him. Making little remarks about love and what it does for people. Sharing little stories of “the joys of marriage.” …..very sneaky, Hosea.

“Hosea…. Please get to whatever point it is yer tryin’ to make here.” Arthur said, cutting into his rambling.

“Arthur….” He cooed, sounding like he was talking to some schoolyard boy. “I’ve been watching you pine over (Name) for MONTHS.”

Arthur said nothing. Nothing but a silent prayer that his cheeks weren’t burning a fiery shade of red.

“I know you’re sweet on her, it’s as obvious as a wolf standing in a pack of sheep!”

Arthur ran a hand over my face and let out a tired sigh. Hosea sipped his beer, waiting for him to respond.

“What ‘m I supposed’t say?” Arthur grumbled, crossing his arms over my chest. ‘God, what a pathetic fool I am.’ Arthur thought. “Not like she’d want an ugly bastard like me ‘nyway.”

“On the contrary! Hosea chuckles. “I was walking by the women’s tent last nigh- couldn’t sleep. Wanted to walk a bit to clear my head- and my boy you should’ve heard the things (Name) was saying about you!”

At that, Arthur sat up a little straighter. “What things…?” He asked, slightly wearily. Hosea smiled.

“Son, she’s fallen for you head first! If only you’d start speaking more then 2 words a week to her! You do so much for that girl Arthur, would it be so hard to do that too?”

He didn’t say anything. Learning that, by some fucking MIRACLE- the woman of his dreams has fallen for him was making his head spin. Could this really be happening?? Could this work?? A stab of pain shot through him as he remembered Mary, and how things ended with her. But this could be different, after all you were with the gang. You didn’t care about his life, you loved him despite it all…Arthur hadn’t dared let himself think that a love with you could possibly work out. The thought made him giddy. He felt dumb as rocks, feeling so strongly for you without ever saying a damn word to you. But he couldn’t let himself get to know you- he couldn’t bare to hear your silky voice say his name more then you already do. With such kindness, such love.He wanted to talk to you, to love you, to cherish you and worship you like you deserved to be, but-

“Hosea, I’m afraid.” Arthur said quietly. “Look at ��er, I can’t drag this woman down the path I’m on. She doesn’t deserve a man like me.”

Hosea pushed Arthur’s untouched whiskey towards him, Arthur took the glass and downed it all in one go. He listened to Hosea’a next words at the fiery liquid settled in his stomach.

“Are you going to risk making that decision for her?”

~~~~~~~

You sat on the cold ground in front of the dying out campfire, grateful that everyone had fallen into their cots for the night. You loved the solitude of nighttime. It was so nice to be by yourself, enjoying the quiet peace of the stars above you.

Before long, your thoughts (as they always did) turned to Arthur Morgan. Hosea has returned to camp hours ago, telling you that Arthur should be back shortly. It’s been hours and still no sign of him. You knew it was normal, but you couldn’t help but worry while he was out of camp. Which was stupid really, you weren’t his girl. Just because he was kind didn’t mean you had to get your knickers all on a twist over him.

‘Damn your mysterious-ness Arthur Morgan….’

You only know you dozed off when the familiar sound of a horse whining woke you up. And then an even more familiar voice soothing the distressed animal.

“Easy girl…. Y’know I can’t spend all my time with ya’ don’t you?”

You stretched your arms out and listened to the sweet interaction. Despite him being the gang’s toughest enforcer, a wanted dead or alive outlaw, Arthur truly was a sweetheart. He treated all the women of the camp with the utmost respect and was such a help to any soul in need of. If only he knew how badly you needed him.

You from your spot on the ground, drawing the outlaws attention. He approached with a small smile.

“Glad it was jus’ you..” Arthur said, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. You on the other hand were absolutely over the MOON at the fact that Arthur had finally decided to talk to you.

“Oh I hope you’re not too disappointed Mr. Morgan!” You said with a light chuckle. Arthur, not sensing your sarcasm through his nerves, panicked.

“N-no! Not at all, ma’am! I apologize if I came off that way-”

“I’m just teasing ya’ Arthur. It’s quite alright.” You said and smiled. A smile so sweet and bright Arthur could’ve melted on the spot. Your sweet smile, the way his name rolled off your lips. Arthur wasn’t a religious man, but he might as well have been in heaven.

“(Name)….” Arthur said, his sweet southern drawl when he said your name making you blush. “I’d like to apologize. For how I’ve been treatin’ you.”

“Oh Arthur! You’ve been nothin’ but kind to me since I’ve been here- whatever are you sorry for?” You asked him, genuinely shocked at the man’s statement. Were you talking to the same Arthur who took care of your horse for you, bought you ribbons to put in your hair, and watched over you like a protective hawk? Sure he didn’t speak to you much, but you knew he was a man of few words. Even if it hurt sometimes, could live with it. You didn’t need him to love you back for you to love him all the same. You’d almost accepted it. Almost.

Arthur sighed a deep and nervous sigh, his thoughts blurring and the several whiskeys he had in him were NOT helping. Not a bit.

“You see- well it’s, it’s just-” Arthur stammered- god he was making a complete FOOL of himself!

You stepped closer to Arthur, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. You looked up at him nervously. The two of you had never been close as this. Arthur looked down at you, you had concern laced in your eyes. Concern for him. Your long hair was falling out of its messy braid, the loose strands framing your face beautifully. He could see the nights starts reflected in your eyes.

‘How beautiful..’ Arthur thought. He was completely captivated by you. ‘How could a woman like this be allowed to roam the same earth as someone like me..?’

Without even realizing what he was doing, Arthur pulled you flush against his chest, one arm wrapping around your waist and the other reaching up to cup your chin. His touch was feather light as he stroked his thumb over your face.

“I ain’t never felt like this before Miss…” Arthur mumbled, leaning his forehead down to touch your. He didn’t have time to wonder (or thank) whatever divine force gave him to courage to do this. “You got me makin’ a fool outta myself…”

You let out a soft gasp at the a sudden touch from Arthur. You had only ever been like this in your sweetest dreams, was this really happening??

“Arthur…?” You whispered, questioning him. “Wha…What ‘re you d-”

That’s it. He couldn’t take it anymore. To hell with the risks, the past to hell with it all! He had come to love you more than life itself. You were exactly what he needed in his painful and cruel life.

You were such a loving soul, treating everyone and everything around you so kindly it was heartwarming. You give and give and GIVE to everyone around you. You never judged anyone around you for their actions- past or present. You picked up chores from the other women when they needed a break. You sung little Jack to sleep when Abigail was too exhausted to lift her head from her cot. You put braided flowers into your beautiful long hair whenever you had a moment to yourself. You smiled at him every morning when you left your tent to begin your day. You always kept the pink silk scarf he picked up for you and left in your tent with a note in the pocket of your skirt. You picked at nails and hummed when you were nervous. You loved staying up late, gazing at the stars and admiring the universe. He had pages upon pages of you doing exactly that sketched in his journal.

You were heaven sent. You were perfect. The world didn’t fucking deserve you.

Arthur slammed his lips down onto yours without wasting another moment. And he shuddered at the feelings of your lips finally being against his own. You kissed him back just has hard, standing on your tip toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders. You felt his tongue slide against his bottom lip, and wasted not a moment opening your mouth to let him in.

Months of longing, tension, were fought out as your tongues pushed against each other. Of course Arthur won, you could barely contain the moan that was building in the back of your throat when you felt his tongue exploring your mouth like a starving man. If he hadn’t been holding you so tightly, you would’ve fallen over. The sheer want and desperation of the kiss made your knees go completely weak.

Unfortunately, you both needed air and had to pull away. Arthur rested his forehead against your own. The both of you stood there, panting with closed eyes. Neither wanting the moment to end.

When you eventually opened your eyes, you looked up at Arthur. And couldn’t help the giddy smile that spread across your face. Arthur wrapped both of his strong arms around your waist, and he smiled sweetly back at you. You both stood there for a moment, swaying gently back and forth as you embraced each other. The silence that fell between you both was comfortable and welcome as you gazed into each others eyes, both sharing the same look of love and adoration.

Arthur was the one who finally broke the silence between the two of you, and you will never forget his next words.

“Please darlin’” He whispered. “I’m beggin’ you… I want you to be my girl. I’m sorry I was a fool for such a long time-”

You leaned up on your tip toes and silenced him with a gentle kiss.

“I wouldn’t have you any other way, Mr. Morgan.”

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [13]

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

Words: 19,197

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort (i know!!), manipulation (canon), gaslighting, jason being drugged against his will (canon), description of scars (jason has autopsy scars because i said so), mentions of the roof scene, mentions of gore?, mentions of death, mentions of withdrawal, self-deprecating thoughts (jason tried to walk off of a roof and titans never mentioned that again so we're going back to that mindset for him for just a second, there's no attempt or anything, just his thoughts), violence, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug addiction (canon), drug use (canon)

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

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

A/N: I was writing the warnings and wow lmao poor Jason. I can't wait to write him a happy ending lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Maybe going back to the manor would be in your best interest. You could go there and lock yourself in your room, throw your technology against a wall and call it all good enough. No temptation to turn back around, no temptation to pick up the phones and hit redial, and demand it’s a mistake and you take it all back. It would be easier to go to the manor and tell Gar what happened because maybe Gar would tell you it was the wrong decision and none of you can give up on Jason. But, none of this has been easy so you don’t go to the manor. Instead, you go back to the Excellent Gotham, going up to the roof through the back where the crime unit doesn’t see you.

You ditch your phone and your necklace on the roof, figuring all of it will be safe for an hour. You hide everything under the radiator unit before you head back down and back to your bike. Then you drive to the one person who will not be so understanding of this entire mess but deserves an answer. And deserves to know what’s going on, just in case.

“Hey.” Molly greets, standing in her doorway.

Her hand rests on the doorframe, blocking you from inside while she wears a sowl. You look to your feet and then back to Molly, knowing this is going to be difficult. You're thinking your own guilt might fall into the air and suffocate you like carbon monoxide poisoning. Maybe that’d be less painful.

“I need to talk to you.” You state softly, tugging your sleeves over your blood-stained hands.

Molly scoffs, shaking her head as she keeps her hand on the door. It’s unbelievable. She knows Jason dying was horrible. It’s worse that you had to be the one to find him mangled and bloody. But, Molly cleaned his blood out of your suit and off of your hands. She cleaned his blood off of the bathroom floor that night all by herself. It was Molly that got you into bed with tear-stained cheeks and the smell of iron radiating off of you. It was Molly that had to take care of you instead of grieving for her friend. Molly didn’t see what you did but she didn’t have to because the blood across the entire bathroom and your traumatized demeanor told her everything and it was fucking traumatizing for her, too. Molly still tried to be there for you and you do what you always do. You run away from everything that hurts. That left Molly alone to deal with the loss of one of her best friends. Alone.

“You’ve been ignoring me for a week and now you want to talk?” Molly spits back. “I lost—“

“It’s about Jason.” You cut her off because you know you've been a shitty friend. You know. Molly hesitates, her eyes narrowing as she shakes her head. “You can yell at me all you want and you can slam the door in my face but I bet you didn’t replace your locks so I can just break in anyway.”

“Seriously?” Molly asks, unamused.

You shrug softly, sucking in a deep breath. “It’s important. I know, alright?” You gesture your arms out. “Just…let me fucking--”

“Is that blood?” Molly asks, seeing your hands.

You look down, blood staining your hands yet again. Your hands are shaking and you didn’t even realize it. When did they start shaking? Have they been shaking the whole time? When did the blood dry anyway? It feels chalky on your hands and it makes you grimace, shaking your head quickly.

“Uh…yeah.” You nod and you see Molly’s face soften. You swear you don’t deserve sympathy. “It’s not mine. It is why I’m here though.” You say softly. “Not Jason's either, to clarify.”

Molly raises a brow at the last remark, knowing it can’t be Jason’s on account of him being dead. But, she’s watching you shift your weight on your heels and your hands shake at your sides. Molly might be mad but she is also intrigued with what this could have to do with Jason and at the end of the day, she is worried about you. She knows your body count is up to four but she knows you would say it’s five. And that’s always concerning. So, she lets out a sigh and moves her hand, stepping aside so you can enter the apartment.

“I’m mad at you. But, fine. Say whatever it is.” Molly crosses her arms over her chest as the two of you stand in her kitchen.

“I’m sorry, okay? You were looking out for me and I just….couldn’t deal with it. I’m sorry for yelling and being mean. I know, I know you lost him, too. And I’m sorry.” You swallow thickly. “I just…” You shrug in defeat. If you're going to get Molly to listen to you, you need to tell her why you did it. “I think I thought I didn’t deserve your help, okay? Maybe that’s what it was. Like…” You pause, looking up to the ceiling. “Uh, ya know? I, uh, I couldn’t look out for Jason when he really needed it so I didn’t fucking deserve it. I don’t know. But I’m fucking sorry because you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.” Molly nods, softly as her brows furrow. As mad and as hurt as she is, she never wants you to feel like you don’t deserve help. No one should feel that way and it wasn’t even your fault. “Why would you think you don’t deserve help?”

You grit your teeth. “Oh, well, that’s part of what I get to tell you.” You roll your eyes. “He just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “He has saved my life more than once and…I couldn’t fucking save him. And I should have seen it and I didn’t. I should have been there for him and I wasn’t…not in the way he clearly needed. He did….so much for me without ever knowing it, I think and I just…couldn’t repay him. So…I took it out on you and Gar and Dick and everyone. And I’m just really fucking sorry.” Your voice cracks.

There’s a fear creeping into the back of your head and for a reason you don’t quite understand, you think about the anti-fear drug. It would be easier to have this conversation if you had it. But you don’t. You have to suck it up and it sucks. It’s making you think you were too hard on Jason for making and taking the drug in the first place. You snapped and went after him and maybe you were too hard on him because he was suffering and he wanted a way out without taking a way out. He just wanted help and to be Robin. It’s all he ever wanted, to be fearless so he can do the one thing everyone thought he was best at. You think about the drug because all you want right now is to stop running from everything that hurts and that scares you so you can stop hurting other people. The people that care about you. Maybe you were too hard on Jason for it.

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you. I did what I always do. I know. And I’m sorry. And some shit fucking happened and it just…got so fucking messy and I’d have to lie to you and I couldn’t do that. But…” Your rambling pauses. “I have to tell you because it’s not fucking fair to you and uh…I’m just…scared and tired of keeping secrets. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Molly lets out a breath as she watches you tug your sleeves down over the ligature scars. They’re fading, slowly. But they are fading and it doesn’t excuse you for being a shitty friend but…this can’t be easy. Molly puts herself in your shoes. You're uprooted from the only thing you've ever known and then tortured and given powers. Molly knows you always hated the idea of having powers. It was always good for other people but no thanks for you. Now you're stuck with them and not even by accident or by your own doing but by your abuser. You're then thrown into being a vigilante. Something you never quite understood why someone would do. Why risk your life for other people who don’t give a fuck about you? And then Jason. It’s not right but… things haven’t been easy.

“Okay.” Molly nods softly. “But, you need to get help for your own shit, okay? It’s not fair to me, you’re right.”

You nod quickly. “Trust me, already thought about that.” You scoff. You should have followed in Jason’s shoes. You should have taken Bruce’s advice and just talked to Leslie.

“Okay so…what’s going on?” Molly asks as she uncrosses her arms, resting one hand on her hip.

“Jason’s alive.” You spit the words out so fast Molly nearly misses them.

“That’s not funny.” Molly shakes her head but her voice lacks any and all venom.

“Yeah.” You scoff. “That’s what I said but he is. Long story, not mine to tell. But he’s alive. He’s Red Hood.” You explain, keeping it short.

Molly nods her head once, realizing that’s why Red Hood dropped Deigo off. That’s how he even knew about the missing kids. It’s because Red Hood is Jason. That explains a lot while also explaining almost nothing.

You nod softly. “Yeah, he killed Pete Hawkins.” Sam states as if you could see Molly putting pieces together.

“And you knew?” Molly asks as you watch her eyes start to glass over.

“He asked me not to fucking tell anyone and I told him he had to tell you and Gar because you’d both hate me if you guys knew I knew and didn’t say anything.” You shake your head and while that’s true, that does not stop the guilt from turning your stomach. “But shit is hitting the fan and…I don't know when he plans to tell you and I’m tired of keeping his secrets.”

Molly’s brows furrow as she’s taken aback by everything. Jason is alive and comes back as a crime lord. That’s already weird but now you're standing here saying you're tired of keeping his secrets. You're nothing if not loyal to the people you love and Jason is very high up on that list of people.

“Okay, hold on.” Molly closes her eyes for a second as she tries to process everything. “So, he’s alive but he doesn’t want anyone to know? Instead, he decides to become Red Hood? And now you’re suddenly not on his side? What the hell is going on?”

You gesture your hands, waving them slightly with the roll of your eyes. “Mr. Drake was shot today, hit on Excellent Gotham.”

“Is he okay?” Molly rushes. “Why…wait. Jason…didn’t?”

“Uh….I don’t know. Tim’s gonna text me but uh, yeah it was Jason.” You suck in a breath and you decide you're just going to tell the story as quickly and as plainly as possible. It’s going a bit numb anyway. “Some sort of threat to Tim because Jason is working with Scarecrow to make an anti-fear drug. Jason left the formula and it was coded. I figured it out, Jason figured out that I had to go to Tim. I only even went to Tim thinking Jason wouldn’t think I would do that. But, of course he did because he knew I’d never be able to look you in the eye and not tell you he’s alive. So, yeah.”

Molly blinks a few times as the room falls silent. When you said it was about Jason, you really could have prepared her a little more for this. What the hell is going on and how is Molly supposed to just take all of this in? There’s a small part of her that wonders if this is just a fever dream.

“Can…can I wash my hands while you digest that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah…” Molly points to the kitchen sink while you walk over. “Why the hell are you so calm?”

“Probably shock.” You mutter. “Oh, and let me give you a rundown of everything that’s happened, literally this week. Jason’s alive so Dick and me dug up his grave. Fun. All of the Titans got mad at me and basically turned on me for knowing he’s alive. Ya know whatever. Then I remade the drug, got high, me and Jason then fought each other cause I went to confront him. While I was there, he was putting a bomb in Hank’s chest. I failed, blah blah blah, we all failed. Hank blew up. Me and Dick kidnapped Crane, then fought Jason again. They almost shot me so I fought both of them, then Babs got Dick shot. Then Excellent Gotham got shot up while I was inside and I killed 3 more people because Jason gave them the drug.” You say casually, the water almost overcoming your voice.

“There’s so much to unpack there.” Molly mutters softly and decides maybe she should sit down. She needs to figure out which part of that she wants to dive into first.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been a very eventful week. At this point, I think this is just my life. You know that little stuff I’ve been telling you about what happened?” You ask.

You told Molly bits and pieces of what happened to you, specifically over the last couple of years. But, you've also been very careful to avoid anything that could ever out any of anyone's vigilante alter egos. You've been very careful not to give anything too detailed away about what happened to Jason in San Francisco. You always kept a lot of the details to yourself, partially to keep secrets about everyone but also to spare Molly horrifying details. But, in order for Molly to understand everything that's led Jason here, she has to know the whole story. In every detail.

“Neglecting every important detail that would make your stories make sense, yes.” Molly quips.

“Right, well, you know Deathstroke?” You question and Molly nods slowly, already hating where this is going. “Well, when we got hurt together, yeah, it’s because Deathstroke and Dr. Light kidnapped us and then tortured us. Some vendetta against Dick. And uh, you know Jason’s limp he has sometimes? Yeah, Deathstroke dug the tracker out of his leg. Dropped us from a skyscraper, Conner saved Jason when he fell. Dick pulled me in. So, ya know, oh, the powers! Jerry, abusive fuck, yeah that’s all him.” You say with the nod of your head.

“You were both kidnapped by Deathstroke?” Molly asks, earning another nod. "And Jerry gave you powers?"

"Well, experimented on to give me powers to give himself powers, yes." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Not really relevant right now, but I figured I'd throw that in there."

You suck in a deep breath before you explain the story of Deathstroke to Molly. And the events that followed, this time in excruciating detail. Everything between being hit and Jason being choked. The two of you trying to defend the other only for it to be useless. You explain everything that happened outside of the skyscraper and then your talk in the bathroom that, up until this moment, has been just between you and Jason. Then you tell her about Jason walking out to the roof. You tell Molly every detail.

“That explains a lot.” Molly nods. “I knew he was different. I knew something bad happened over there but…” Molly's heart aches and she really wishes Jason could have told her or talked to her about it. She isn't sure she could have helped, but she would have tried.

“Yeah…” You nod your head.

“Why are you telling me now?” Molly shakes her head in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. I just…you asked why I’m so calm and I just think it’s my life now. And I think you should know. I think you need to know the whole story in order to understand any of it. It’s bigger than Bruce taking Robin away from him. You have to know the story and you’re the only one that doesn’t.” You shrug softly.

“Right, okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Molly nods her head before she decides to switch back to something else you said. Molly takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Wait, hold you, you made a fucking drug and then took it?!”

You glance at her as you shrug and then look back to the water. Everyone is so upset about that part of the story. “Yes. I’m fine. It was fine. Ya know, it wasn’t like…I didn’t die.”

“You’re an idiot.” Molly groans as she holds the bridge of her nose while you dry your hands.

“I’ve been told.” You nod your head as you lean against the counter, keeping the paper towels in your hands.

“I have so many questions.” Molly rests her elbow on the table. “Why is Jason working with Scarecrow? I mean, are you sure?” Molly isn’t sure why she asked. You and Dick literally kidnapped him, so you have to be sure but she just finds it so hard to believe.

“Oh, we are positive.” You let out a sigh. “Robin can’t be scared.” You grit your teeth, the anger bubbling back in your stomach like mixing pop rocks and pop. “It’s…Bruce made Jason feel like he was only ever good enough as Robin. And he made him and Dick sign a fucking contract about not being scared or something. I don’t even know. So, Jason gets fucking PTSD from Deathstroke because Dick got Deathstroke’s son fucking killed and Bruce sends him to therapy and then for some fucking reason, decides to just….take it away. Robin can’t be scared so Jason got immediate help, I fucking guess.” You sneer and you're still so mad at Bruce.

So much of this is on him and he just left. He left Gotham in the hands of the Titans as if they weren’t busy with their own shit. He leaves and Jason’s back but he wouldn’t know because he’s unreachable. His own son is back from the damn dead and he doesn’t even know. His other son is being hunted down and again, he doesn’t even know. Dick lost Jason, too but it was all about Bruice even though Bruce is the one who could have prevented this. He could have made Jason see he didn’t need to be Robin. He could have killed the Joker sooner. He could have just let him be Robin. There were options and Bruce always chose the worst one. You all let Jason down, but at least you and the other Titans are here unlike Bruce.

“Why…I mean…” Molly sucks in a breath, trying desperately to understand Jason. “So, he makes an anti-fear drug and I’m assuming it’s the opposite of the fear gas?” Molly asks while you nod. “So, he’s just…not scared.” Molly rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t feel anything else, does he? I mean…it’s why we can’t live without our adrenaline glands.”

You nod, walking over to the trash can to toss out the paper towels. “Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than that but yeah. It, uh, it’s like it gets rid of hesitance, ya know? And then you just….do whatever seems fun and it thrives off of anger. It doesn’t matter what you do either as long as you’re fighting. That’s how we fought. Neither of us really…tried. But, we did anyway and that’s why. So, uh, yeah. But, um….I think Crane is withholding it. It looked like he was going through withdrawal tonight.” You explain as you chew the inside of your cheek.

“He was actually there while Excellent Gotham was hit?” Hurt consumes Molly's voice as her brows raise.

“Yeah, outside. He didn’t know I was there. He didn’t see me, I guess but that doesn’t matter.”

Molly watches you carefully and as much as Molly wants to believe you're here out of the kindness of your heart to let her know about Jason, she also knows that is not the case. Everything is hitting the fan. You're friends with Tim and you both could have died. Jason is targeting the Titans. Gar is Jason’s friend, too. Jason knows you're always at Excellent Gotham. If he’s willing to target them, who else is he willing to target? You would not be standing here confessing everything if you weren’t scared and if something else didn’t happen.

Molly scolds your name as you walk over, taking a seat across from her. “Why are you really here? You didn’t come because I deserved to know. I know you.”

You shift in your seat. “If he shows up here, calls you, texts you, I need you to call me, Dick, and Gar, okay? Don’t let him in. I don’t think he’ll come after you because you’re his friend, too but…I also never imagined he’d ever target the Drakes.”

“He’ll know you came here.” Molly gestures a hand toward you, eyes darting to where the necklace normally sits.

“Ditched my phone and necklace.” You state. “I’m going back for everything when I’m done here and I don’t actually think that’s how he knew about Tim. I don’t think he’s tracking me or anything but yeah, I wasn’t taking that risk.”

“So, I just…call you guys?”

You nod. “Yeah, keep him here or on the phone until we show up. I’ll text you their numbers when I grab my phone. I just…want you to know. And uh, don’t…don’t go out of your way to contact him, please, okay? I really, really, want you left out of it. Crane is fucking insane. And I know he’s gotten into Jason’s head so Jason’s been trying to kill Dick. I think if Bruce were here he’d be going after him, too. I don’t know if the hit on Excellent Gotham was all Jason or Crane. I don’t know. The more people involved, the more people Crane can weaponize Jason against.”

Molly takes everything in and she’s starting to grow worried for Jason. If Jason is targeting the Titans, of all people, where is that going to leave him? Even if all of this is Crane and the drug, what’s going to happen to him? You're sitting here confessing everything to her which means, to some degree, you've lost hope in him. And that’s not something Molly ever imagined happening. Is there only one way for this to end?

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Molly asks quietly.

You shrug. “I don’t know.” Your eyes start to water. “I hope he uh, stops taking the drug entirely and uh…then he comes home but I don’t know.” You sniffle softly, biting down your own tears.

If Jason doesn’t stop taking the drug and he keeps working with Crane, that only leaves two options. Lock him up in Arkham or kill him. Not that anyone wants to do the second option, it’s just that Jason will force it. He won’t go out quietly or easily. It’ll be a fight to the death and you know that and you hate the idea of it. You think about everything you could possibly do to take the drug away. The only other thing is to try and kidnap him but, given your history, that just seems fucked up. You don’t want him kidnapped or in Arkham or dead. All you can do is hope he snaps out of it.

Molly nods softly before tilting her head to the right slightly. You're looking down at the table, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head softly before looking up at Molly. “I, uh, I ended things tonight.” You state as you watch Molly’s frown grow deeper. “And, I don’t mean it, I think we can get him back but, uh…I told him I gave up on him and I…regret it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Molly says and she knows it’s bad for you to even say it. You're usually careful with your words when you're angry. “Have you tried everything else? To get him back?”

“Everything. I’ve tried talking to him and fighting him and yelling and we tried to trap him. I tried defending him and…yeah.” You nod, the lump growing in your throat once more. “But…I promised him I’d never be like everyone else and I stood there and I did it anyway. I don’t fucking mean it but I just…he could have gotten me and Tim killed. His dad might die. It’s not really Jason but it’s just…I just regret it. He’d never do that to me.” There’s a crack in your voice as your eyes start to burn and turn a haunting shade of red.

“We’re not kids anymore.” Molly says sternly. “You can’t keep every promise you make. Jason has always been bull-headed. I’ve known him for years. If Jason is good at something, it’s pushing people away.”

“Yeah, I know. His self-preservation is just self-destruction in disguise. But...”

“No, fuck that. You just said he blew up Hank. He’s trying to kill Dick and he could have killed you more than once. He died and instead of coming back home to you or even crashing here for some reason, he became Red Hood. And that’s fucked up. I love Jason but what he’s doing is wrong and maybe he needs to hit rock bottom alone for it to make sense to him. You defend him against everyone and everything no matter what he does. Did you ever stop to think that the Deathstroke situation was his fault? You and Gar went along with the plan but Jason wanted to prove himself so you agreed. It was his fault. Sure, Dick had a hand in it and so did Rose and the other Titans. But it was Jason who didn’t listen. It was Jason who thought he was better than a group of Titans. It was Jason that got you both dropped from a skyscraper. But, you come back and you take the blame for some reason. Why? Because you didn’t tell him no? So? I met Gar and I don’t think Gar would have told him no with or without you. So, if it’s your fault, it’s Gar’s fault but you won’t say it’s Gar’s fault. It’s Jason’s.”

Molly isn’t going to let you beat yourself up over this again. You telling Jason you're done and you're giving up, that’s a huge thing. And Molly knows it. Molly would love to believe there is another way. Jason doesn’t handle abandonment well but if you're doing it, there is no other option. Jason needs to understand, in some way, that he can’t just take a drug and make everything okay again. That’s not how it works and it hurts people. He’s hurting himself and he’s hurting everyone else who cares about him. Maybe Jason needs to feel alone to get it.

“Okay, yeah, maybe. But, I just…what if this is worse, Molly? What then?” You sniffle. “What if…ya know? I don’t want it to get him killed again.”

“He’s going to get himself killed again regardless and you’re going to blame yourself for it no matter what you do.” Molly says harshly. “You’ve tried everything else, try this. If it doesn’t work, then you tried.”

“That’s not good enough!” You stand up, slamming your hands on the table. “Just trying isn’t fucking good enough! It has to fucking work!” There's a squeak to your voice as if your vocal cords are finally giving out.

“No!” Molly yells back. “Sometimes, things just aren’t enough, no matter how hard we try. That’s just how it is.” Molly shakes her head. 

"Yeah, but it should still be enough. It just has to be. It has to be...worth it." Your voice grows desperate.

"It's always worth it. It's always worth it to try.  Do you think Jason regrets trying with Catherine? Do you blame Jason for Catherine dying?"

"What? No, of course not." You scoff.

"Exactly. Because he tried. He didn't let her overdose. He could have. He could have let her starve, too but he didn't. He loves his mom and she tried, too. But, you know how addiction is. Jason's trying wasn't enough to save her and she died. Catherine trying to be a parent wasn't enough and it lead Jason to the streets and shitty foster homes. But, that doesn't mean their effort wasn't worth it. Bruce tried, as much as you hate him, he tried and it got Jason killed and Dick a mess. I tried and you still took off." Molly shakes her head. "Dick has tried with all of you and you're killing people and losing your mind, Jason is a drug addict working for Scarecrow, Gar is trying to pick everyone off the floor, Hank blew up, Jericho got killed, Dawn is gone. That doesn't mean his effort was wasted or useless."

You let out a breath and maybe Molly makes a point. There is a point in trying. It might work but you would never know unless you try. Putting in the effort is worth it but it's really hard to swallow when you feel so guilty about it. And what if it's not enough this time? Where is that supposed to leave you and Jason? All you want is him to be home and happy and healthy and safe.

“What do we do when it’s not enough? How do people even come back from that though?”

"Then we try something else." Molly answers simply. "And we keep trying. You giving up might be enough because if you give up, I’ll side with you and he knows that. So, will Gar. So, will the Titans. He’ll be alone. You’re the last living person that would ever give up on him and you’re his last chance at climbing out of the hole he dug himself. Maybe it is enough but you’re never going to know if you pick up your phone and call him.”

You nod your head quickly. “I know. It’s just...I wish I would have just been enough to keep him...out of this. Like...that my validation was enough and love for him was. Or yours and Gar's. I just hope you're right and trying this way is enough. I don't--”

“No.” Molly protests. “And you are enough. Don’t let his bullshit make you ever think that you’re not. You are. And he fucking tried with you, too. I have never seen him try in a way that he did with you. So, it was always enough for him. But, sometimes, being enough isn’t the problem. It’s bigger than you and me and Gar. You’re enough. And he tried. And you tried. And I’m betting he’s still trying in his own Jason way because if not, you’d be dead. And we both know it. So, he’s still trying so you try this way. You tell him you give up and then you figure something else out. You have never known how to quit anything in your entire life. I mean, you would just ghost people because you can’t quit a damn relationship.”

“Okay, that went from inspiring to mean. Thanks.” You quip. "I didn't ghost people." You mutter through a huff.

Molly narrows her eyes, offering you an accusatory look. "Yeah, you did." Molly argues. "But, you didn't ghost him, you actually ended things tonight because you’re still trying.” Molly pleads with you. “That is you trying and that is what’s important. And you don’t mean it. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Wait, I guess.” You shrug. “Try to figure out what else they could have planned. Work on the inside.” You suck in a breath, Molly waiting for another idea. "Bruce has a cure for the fear gas on the Batcomputer, maybe we can work on a cure for this one. Or just destroy the batch Crane is making while also finding a way to just take him out. Take him out with the drug and Jason has no choice then." You ramble, just tossing out the first things that come to your head.

“Exactly. He thinks you’re giving up but you’re not. You’re trying to find another way to save him. Don’t beat yourself up for it. But, then if he calls me, I’m going to talk to him not because you told me to but because I don’t want him mixed up in this shit either.” Molly sucks in a breath. “The one thing that has always worked with Jason is just having someone who listens.”

“I know. Shit sucks.” You let out a deep sigh. "Hope it works."

“We’ll get him back. You’re not alone in this either.” Molly offers a soft smile. “Then, you two can sort your shit out and give each other a fair shot at this. It’ll all work out.”

“That’s really optimistic.”

“I believe in you and I believe in Jason.”

You offer a soft smile. “Thanks.” You sniffle softly. “You should talk to Gar, you two got this whole optimism thing going. Could be like motivational speakers or some shit.”

“You’re hilarious.” Sarcasm fills Molly's voice this time.

“I’m an idiot and hilarious. Mulit-facidet.”

“Right.” Molly rolls her eyes. “How was he though? I mean…after you told him?”

“He gave me this look once, uh, the day we got together and uh….he asked me what was so bad about him.” You shake your head. “I mean, I wanted to burst into tears with the look he gave me and the way he said it. It just….fuck Bruce, man.” You scoff. “And fuck me I guess because he gave me that same damn look tonight. You can be as optimistic as you want, but I don’t he’s going to forgive me for it.”

“I told him once that it was you.” Molly states. “You were it for him and he was it for you. It was just the two of you but you’re both stupid and stubborn. You guys were together the next day.” Molly’s eyes widen. “I still think that’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one he told he was alive. He could have told me when he brought Diego back but he didn’t. He told you. He could have dragged you into the Crane stuff but he didn’t. I don’t think for a second, he did it to be an asshole or to push you away and I don’t think you believe he did that either. And that day, outside the house, he knew exactly what to do. Your hands were glowing and he didn’t even hesitate like he knew you’d never hurt him. Because Jason is forgiving. Stubborn and self-destructive, but forgiving.”

You remember your first night in Gotham and how casual he was but he seemed so happy and excited. You don't think you ever saw him smile so much before. And you think about how you almost kissed him that night because he was being Jason, annoying and yet somehow charming. You think he wanted to kiss you, too. You remember how you both were happy then. You both were happy before and you think about the day you blurted out that you loved him. It was the start and end of everything. You remember how he kissed you with everything in him that day as if he couldn't fathom being loved for just being Jason Todd. And you remember how happy he was. Happy and loved and safe. You wonder if there's a pit somewhere that can send you both back to those moments.

“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” You offer a sad smile. “Really miss him.”

“We’ll get him back.” Molly smiles softly.

“Thanks." You clear your throat. "Uh, I gotta head out but thank you. I’m still gonna keep my distance a bit just in case but if something happens, call me and same thing if anything with Jason happens.”

“Of course.” Molly offers a reassuring nod.

“I’m still sorry.” You scrunch your nose.

“I know.” Molly scoffs. “I forgive you. Just work on your shit after this is over.”

“You got it.” You roll your eyes before you head out.

You head back to Excellent Gotham to grab your things before you head back to the manor. Once back at the manor, you find Gar and the two of you sit down to discuss the night. You explain everything to him, what happened at Excellent Gotham, Mr. Drake, Tim, Molly, and Jason. You explain it all just trying to keep him informed and then you say you don’t want to be involved in the whole thing anymore. Maybe it’s safer for everyone if you aren’t involved. Dick is already painting a big enough target on everyone, you don’t want to contribute to that. So, the two of you talk back and forth well into the night, Gar just trying his best to be there for you but he tells you almost the same thing that Molly said. Besides agreeing with giving up. He knows you didn’t tell him that to give up literally, but he is worried it’ll send Jason further over the edge. He doesn’t say that but he doesn’t tell you it’s all going to be okay either. So, you both just sit and talk until you fall asleep.

The following day, everyone is gathered in the Batcave around the Batcomputer. Dick is explaining that Jason and Crane are putting the drug on the streets and last night was a just a trial. You broke the news to Dick when you woke up and right about now, you're regretting it, Dick says none of you can look at Red Hood as Jason anymore. Not when they're distributing the drug to innocent people on the streets.

"Is that really fair?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yes." Dick answers sternly. "You know what he's done and what he's doing. You took the drug. Do you want other people—"

"That's not what I'm saying." You sigh. "Look, it didn't turn me into a killer. Or some shit. And I'm not like.....normal. So, Jason has to be in there, off the drug. Like all of these people."

"But we can't view him like that. It'll cloud our judgment. Right now, he is Red Hood and him and Crane need to be stopped. If you don't want to be involved, I understand."

"I thought you were done anyway?" Gar asks, still a little bitter about the conversation from the night before.

He tries to be there for you but he really doesn't agree with you giving up and not wanting to help. They need you because you're the only one that has ever been able to get through to Jason. And without you, who's going to convince Dick not to kill him? Or Kory? They're both tired of this and Gar doesn't stand a chance arguing with them. You, on the other hand, will argue and fight to the death if that's what it takes.

"I am." You snip. "I'm just saying." You roll your shoulders. "I fucking told you, he was worried and scared last night. Crane is withholding it from him. So, maybe we give him a day or something to come around, let the drug flush itself out. I was fine the next day but Jason's been taking it, probably, nonstop for a week. Erasing who is, I don't think that's gonna help." You narrow your eyes. "Unless, you have other plans than bringing him home."

"He's had plenty of chances to come home." Kory says, putting a hand on her hip.

"I thought you were against innocent people getting hurt?" Dick questions.

"Alright, if you wanna argue about morals and shit, go find Bruce." You scoff. "Whatever." You put your hands up in defeat, knowing there's no changing their minds this time. You don't even know why you're here.

Dick continues to explain he's going to use an illegal computer while Kory and Blackfire have someone else to take care of, leaving you, Gar, and Conner to themselves.

"What are you going to do when we find Jason?" Gar asks as Conner excuses himself to grab food for him and Krypto.

"Well, I guess nothing, Gar." You shake your head, a snip in your voice as you spin slowly in your chair at the Batcomputer.

"He depends on us and you're just giving up." Gar protests.

"He almost fucking shot me and he almost killed Jack!" You yell as the guilt and regret continue to chew away at your bones. "He didn't pull the damn trigger but he already knew what they were gonna do."

"But it wasn't him." Gar's voice goes quiet but still holds the same annoyance.

"Yeah, but he's going to have to deal with his own consequences. He woke up one day and decided he didn't want to be scared anymore and went to fucking Crane. That was Jason Todd's decision. Before Red Hood. He needs to deal with it." You grit your teeth and it sucks.

It all just sucks and Gar is really making the whole thing worse. You don't expect him to side with you all the time, that's fine. But, it'd be really nice if he would just accept this. Molly did and Molly agrees. It is torture not picking up the phone and calling Jason. You just wish Gar could see that.

"He was desperate." Gar defends and you don't know why he's being so stubborn about it.

"So was I." You say softly. "But I didn't go to a psychopath for help. He has to deal with it." You say quietly. "Why are you so..." You wave your hands around slightly, raising a brow at him. "I don't know, defensive about it?"

"The whole team is just falling apart." Gar shrugs. "And Dick doesn't seem like he really wants to try to help Jason anymore."

"I know." You roll your chair over to Gar's before putting your hands on his shoulders. "It's hard but you keep your optimism. I'm not gonna let Dick or Kory kill him. I might not stand a chance but they'll have to go through me if that's what it's going to lead to. You know I don't even mean it. But I can't just take it back. You know I can't. I've tried everything else, Gar." You let out a sigh, dropping your hands from Gar's shoulders. "I'm gonna go to the hospital and check on Tim. I owe him that since I can't tell him anything else." You stand up and start to walk off. "Let me know if something happens though, please. I do care. I just....can't, Gar. It hurts."

"Can I come?" Gar asks with the scrunch of his nose, scratching the back of his head.

"Actually, yeah." You nod your head and offer him a soft smile. "That'd be really nice." You jerk your head towards the hallway. "Come on, I'll drive."

Jason shows up at the old ice cream factory where Crane's been having the anti-fear drug cooked. With the anti-fear drug making its way through Jason's system over the past few hours, he's still feeling a little confident as he walks in for another inhaler, even if it feels like there's a weight tugging at his chest. Technically, disturbing the drug worked which means he was right. He's just actively trying to forget about what happened after. He tries to focus solely on being the one in charge now. He is not replaceable or expendable and he's hoping Crane sees that now. He just destroyed the last good thing in his life for this plan and the second the drug wears off, he's consumed with regret and guilt. If that doesn't show dedication, what else does?

And Crane seems to be fine with it. He doesn't seem angry or upset. And that, for some reason, is making Jason feel uneasy. Bruce and Dick would be pissed and would be screaming at him, even if he were right. But, Crane is just saying he understands and he's not like Bruce. He forgives him for betraying him. Something seems off but Jason isn't going to push to find out what's going on. That just seems like pushing his luck. So, he plucks an inhaler from the table and hits it.

But, there's something wrong.

It burns. His throat feels like it's blistering from the inside out. His lungs feel like they're going to spasm right out of his chest. Jason starts coughing, asking Crane what's in the inhaler as his legs grow weak. It's hard to breathe and despite the drug he just took two hours ago, he's starting to panic. The last time it was hard to breathe like this, he died. He died. He died. He died and it was brutal and terrifying. He can't breathe and why can't he breathe? What did Crane give him? Why would Crane do this to him? Is Crane really going to kill him?

Jason's head spins as his limbs grow weak making him fall to the floor, trying to grip the table to stabilize himself. But, he falls anyway and his heart is beating so fast he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest. Everything spins and fades in and out of blurry and full focus. He can't fucking breathe and everything is heavy. It's heavy and his eyes are heavy and then it all goes black.

You and Gar make it to the hospital and spend a few hours hanging out with Tim who's grateful for the company. The good news is that his dad is going to be just fine and they're talking about releasing him as early as tomorrow. The bullet didn't hit anything major which is pure luck. But, he's thankful to have someone to talk to and keep him company anyway even if a part of him is still a little bitter about the whole ordeal, as he should be.

But, then Gar gets a text from Dick. They know where Jason and Crane are. They're getting together to shut them down and bring them in. Dick, specifically, doesn't want you there. Given everything that's happened, he doesn't want you involved anymore. Either you'll be a target or you're going to flip. If this ends poorly, you'll be a problem with bringing Jason and Crane in. It's in everyone's best interest if you stay out of it this time.

"Sorry, uh...I have to go." Gar says quietly.

You eye him and you know. "Dick?"

"Yeah." Gar nods his head. "He's gonna come get me so you can stay here."

"Ahh." You nod once, your heart sinking. You're staying out of it anyway but if Dick wants Gar back and is coming for him, that means maybe they found them. Some part of you still wants to be there just in case something happens. But, you can't very well go argue with Dick outside of a hospital entrance about going to fight Red Hood and Scarecrow, so you just suck in a breath. "Um...can...can you just...ya know?"

Gar hesitates and he thinks for a second. If it came down to picking between Dick, Kory, Conner, and Blackfire or Jason, who would he pick? The Titans are his family but so is Jason and he doesn't want to bury another friend. He doesn't want to bury him again. Gar thinks about it and he's thinking if it came to it, maybe he would stand in front of Jason just to make sure Dick didn't kill him because he would do the same for Dick. And Jason would do the same for him.

"I'll do everything I can and I'll call you." Gar says. "Promise."

"Thanks, Gar." You offer a sad smile.

"Of course." Gar smiles back before looking to Tim. "Nice meeting you, dude. Glad your dad is okay." Gar says with a smile.

"Thanks, yeah, you, too." Tim nods his head as the two of them say their goodbyes and Gar heads out. Your eyes linger on the exit, finding it hard to just sit here. What if you saying you're giving up gives the Titans some right of passage to kill him? What then? "What? You're not gonna go?"

You shake your head. "No, I, uh, I thought I'd hang out with you a little longer. It's probably just some bullshit anyway." You shift in your seat with the roll of your eyes.

"Jason almost gets my dad killed and now you're not going to be involved?" Tim questions, a bit of hurt and anger in his voice.

"You're not gonna quit are you?" You question him with a slight grimace.

"Nope." Tim shakes his head.

"I broke up with him, not my business." You shake your head. "And that's if it's about Jason. Not sure why it would be but ya know." You roll your shoulders, almost giving up on keeping this whole thing a secret from Tim, too.

"Right." Tim scoffs.

"Look," You face him in defeat. "You want me to tell you things I don't know about," Your eyes widen, a hint for him to shut up about it. "But you also won't trust me. I'm just asking you to trust me, okay?"

"Will you ever tell me?" Tim asks carefully.

If you were being honest, you think you can trust Tim to keep it all a secret. He could be on forums and showing everything he has to news outlets about Bruce being Batman and Dick being Robin and Nightwing. If he wanted to tell everyone, he could and enough people would believe him. But, he keeps it to himself besides to you because you're a Titan. So, you think maybe you'll tell him at some point when everything calms down. It's all a little dangerous right now but maybe one day you will.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But, you have got to fucking trust me."

"Alright, fine." Tim gives you a soft but triumphant smile. He's won enough for now and you know it.

That seems to be enough for Tim to drop it for now as the two of you go back to talking about everything that's not vigilante-related for once.

Jason finally starts to come to, his head heavy and throbbing. His eyes are burning as if he has the worst cold he's ever had and his vision is blurry, coming into focus a little slower than usual. His wrists are duct taped to the arms of a chair and his limbs feel too weak to even fight. He tugs just once but it's useless. He's been trained for this. He escaped that time with Deathstroke easily because it was in the training and duct tape is easy to escape from. But, he can't and the real drug has worn off. Tears start to brim his eyes and he has never felt more alone than he does right now.

He thought he could trust Crane. Him and Crane are supposed to be in this together. He said they had the same view of the city. But then Crane poisoned him. Why would he do that to him? Jason trusted him and Crane poisoned him. He knows he went behind Crane's back but Jason never did anything to hurt Crane yet Jason's the one duct taped to a chair and drugged. Jason swallows the hard lump in his throat and he should have just stayed in line.

He did it again.

He fucked it all up. He just had to go off and do his own thing with targeting Excellent Gotham, giving the drug to those random guys behind Crane's back. It's the same story over and over again, he just can't help himself and Jason wonders what the fuck is so wrong with him that he can't just stay in line. People trust him and then he pushes them away and he betrays them and he goes off on his own. Why does he always do this? It's all his fault and he trusted Crane. He really did. And he feels so alone.

Crane was the last person Jason thought he had that he could trust. Jason burned every single bridge he had with the Titans. Kory is going to be pissed and is going to take Dick's side, especially after Hank. Dawn would never trust him after what he did. Conner doesn't know him well enough. Jason has tried to kill Dick. After what happened last night with you, Jason doesn't even think Gar would help him. He's all alone. He's alone and he hates being this alone. He has no one and his mind is clear for the first time in a week. He is fucking terrified and filled with shame and regret and remorse and everything is hitting him so hard he just wants to scream. He hates it.

You were right. He does regret it. He regrets all of it. He shouldn't have gone to Crane. He shouldn't have killed Hank. He shouldn't have targeted Dick. He never should have fought you or went after the Drake's. Everything he's done, he is regretting and there's nothing he can do about it. But he remembers you saying he can call Dick. Dick is his brother. He tried to kill him but maybe you're right. You would never tell him to call Dick if you didn't know for sure. Because even when you give up, Jason knows you wouldn't risk him getting killed. He has to get out of here but he's weak and tired.

"I pity you, Jason." Crane says, but his voice is foggy as if he were down a long and distant tunnel. "You were reckless and you were impatient last night. And you act out of fear, not out of strength. You see, you're still afraid of Dick Grayson. And I failed you. I failed you as a teacher. But here's today's lesson. You know how I broke Batman? It wasn't with fear, it was with patience. I'm going to show you that you don't need to go running around Gotham, trying to destroy the Titans, you can just sit back and watch as the Titans destroy themselves."

Jason remains silent, unsure how he's even supposed to argue or if he can. It was Crane's idea to destroy the Titans anyway. Jason has just been so mad at them and felt abandoned he thought Crane was right but now he's not so sure. He can't be sure anymore. It all feels like lies. He's sobering up and everything feels like it was a lie. Just to use him.

"That's how we're going to take care of that...unpleasant girl of yours." Crane puts his hands behind his back, standing as if he owns the entire world. Jason's jaw clenches, his eyes focusing on Crane. "Patience. You wouldn't do it but you don't have to." Crane offers a kind smile and it makes Jason's skin crawl. "You see, your little act last night I'm sure really bothered her, right? You could have gotten her killed and her little friend. She has nowhere to go now, besides to the Titans and as the Titans crumble, so will she."

"That's not part of the plan." Jason chokes out, finding the energy to argue this point. "You said we'd leave her out of it."

Crane promised him from the beginning they would keep you out of it as long as you didn't side with the Titans. And you technically, did not do that. You've only been on Jason's side, just using Dick as a way to try and help him. Crane promised they would leave you out of it and you could join their side if you wanted to. Jason's getting the idea that was just a lie, too just to get him to cooperate with whatever Crane wanted to do.

"Did I?" Crane asks. "I don't think I ever said that. But," Crane sucks in a breath, leaning down to be eye-to-eye with Jason. "She threatened to kill me. She even beat me up." Crane almost sounds pitiful and hurt. "I told you, Jason. She's not on your side and she never was. Now. You can sit back and watch her destroy herself." Crane leans up, walking to the window to watch the workers.

You already gave up on him. You and him are done. There is no coming back from last night. But the panic still floods Jason's system because he knows, despite everything his mind has ever conditioned him to think, it was the hardest thing you had to do. He knows you tried to do everything besides that and he loves you anyway. He loves you anyway and he dragged you into this. He put you right in the middle of him and your friends. Your family that you tried to have. He did that to you.

Last night you said all Jason has done since coming back is hurt you, and you're right. He never meant to. He never dreamed of it hurting you but he did and now he's terrified it just got that much worse for you. You deserve better and Jason has no idea how he's supposed to get out of this.

Crane has to let him go eventually. Crane will need Jason for something and he can warn you. You told him not to contact you or Gar but maybe this will be an exception because you have to know. And maybe he can take your advice for fucking once and just call Dick. Because Crane just drugged him and is holding him hostage. Maybe he never could trust him.

It's quiet on the way back to the Manor. It's as if no one really knows what to say or how to say it. Sure, the fight went just fine just like it usually does. They make a really good team and Blackfire is a good addition to the team. But, they didn't get Crane and they didn't get Jason. Instead, Crane and Jason are in the wind but Crane was also holding Jason hostage. Something happened that led Crane to do that and Gar is the one sitting here wondering what they're going to do about it and who the hell is going to be the one to break it to you. It was Dick's bright idea for you not to come along and maybe if you would have, you could have gotten Jason. Maybe if they had one more person it would have went differently. The team is divided and Gar hates it.

"Who's gonna tell her about Jason?" Gar asks and they walk through the Batcave.

The other Titans turn to look at him, glancing between each other before landing on Dick. It's not Conner or Blackfire's place to say anything, it's not their job. That's all Kory and Dick but Dick doesn't seem like he's going to be the one to say anything. You can say you're done all you want but Dick knows if they tell you, you'll go off the rails looking for Jason. It could get you killed, Jason killed, and you could kill Crane. Even if you do find them, what's to stop Crane from kidnapping you, too? Crane clearly has a way to do it if he can do it to Jason. And what if it's a trap? What if Jason isn't being held captive but it's a way to get the Titans to a different location? Telling you seems like it might just be a bad idea and in your best interest for your own safety.

"We don't have to tell her." Dick says.

Gar's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "Seriously, dude?" Gar scoffs. "It's Jason. She's going to be pissed if she finds out and we didn't tell her."

"She decided she doesn't want any part of this anymore and I think that's for the best. If we tell her, we don't know what she'll do. We still need Crane." Dick argues, keeping it short.

"Screw that, man." Gar groans. "He took Jason and we know he did. There was proof of it back there. If something happens to him, she's gonna never forgive any of us. Let her decide if she wants back in."

"He's right, Gar. She's been a little bit of loose canon lately." Kory offers kindly.

Gar is also tired of the secrets. All keeping secrets from each other has done is get them hurt. That's all it's done and now they want to keep this huge thing from you? That's insane. You have every right to know and he doesn't understand why they would want to keep it from you. Maybe you'll explode but it's not like anyone else is going to go save Jason. What if he actually is in danger?

"Because of everything that's happened!" Gar defends, tossing his arms out to his sides. "If you guys were in her shoes, you'd probably be loose canons, too! I mean, Dick has been going off on his own most of the time. Bruce even snapped. And we just have to pretend like everything is normal?"

"I mean..." Conner chimes in. "She didn't tell us he was alive."

"Yeah, and that sucked but she was scared for his life. It sucks but at least I get it. And it was one day! What is keeping this from her going to do?"

Dick crosses his arms and he's really missing the days where the only problems he had were Jason and you pulling some dumb prank just to harass him. "Do you think she'll sit back and let us handle it or do you think she's going to take it into her own hands?"

Gar knows you will. It's Jason but Gar also knows that if it were him, you would do the same thing. The only reason you didn't come after him by yourself with CADMUS is because you didn't know how to and it was CADMUS not just one person. But, Gar also got the story about you being the driving force to make sure you all saved him, regardless of what was happening to Dick. Gar was the first priority. You're going to take this into your own hands but at this point, Gar is ready to jump right in with you. Jason came to save him.

"I know." Gar shrugs. "But what if she doesn't? What if she asks for help this time? We just don't even give her the option?"

"That could get her killed. It's for her own protection." Kory says.

"Well, that sucks." Gar snaps. "Keeping secrets from each other doesn't keep any of us safe." Gar scoffs as he goes to leave.

Now he knows how you feel. Arguing with them is exhausting. They won't even listen. It's either whatever they want to do or nothing. That's normally fine. Gar normally agrees and Dick and Kory usually do know better but not this time. This time it's wrong, for your own protection or not.

"Gar." Dick calls.

Gar turns around quickly, a look of defeat on his face. "If she asks, I'm not gonna lie." Gar shrugs his shoulders before he turns away and heads upstairs.

Gar finds you in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for food. He wonders if this is what it felt like when you knew Jason was alive. His stomach feels like it might fall right to his feet, heavy with guilt. He wonders if you were also mad at him for asking you to keep it a secret because Gar's mad at Dick and Kory. It really fucking sucks and Gar wonders how the hell you even manage to keep everything a secret. He's been standing here for just a few seconds and he already wants to snap and spill everything. Maybe that's why you've been a bit off, because this just sucks and it's heavy.

You pop your head out from behind the cabinet door, a granola bar sticking out of your mouth, feeling someone had entered the kitchen. "Hey." You greet as you pluck the bar from your mouth.

"What are you doing?" Gar questions.

"Looking for food. Hospital food sucks." You say softly. "I guess." You mutter quietly as you pluck a box of Mac and cheese from the cabinet, a displeased look on your face.

"Don't you like that?" Gar asks, entering further into the kitchen.

"Yeah," You sigh. "Just not feeling it but I don't wanna go through the effort of making anything else or looking." You look at the box and back to Gar. "Is there real milk in this?"

"Uh, yeah." Gar chuckles, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. "Why?"

"Could have made it with the vegan butter and oat milk if you wanted some but never mind, I guess." You sigh, moving to the cabinet with the pots. But the room goes oddly silent, making you look back at Gar. He's just standing there, watching you. "What happened?" You ask as you turn around, leaning against the counter.

Gar shifts his weight on his feet. "What makes you think something happened?" Gar asks softly.

"You have a look and you're quiet. You didn't point out Bruce probably has vegan Mac and cheese somewhere or Dick probably pick some up for you." You explain. "I can always tell with you and Jason when something's wrong."

You watch as Gar looks to the ground and you're terrified what's going to come out of his mouth. Jason can't be dead again because Gar probably would be crying right now but he's not and his eyes aren't red which means he isn't sucking it up for your sake. The other Titans are probably fine because Gar wouldn't be so hesitant to tell you if something happened to them. So, you have to assume it has to do with Jason and there's a small part of you that thinks the Titans won this time and they sent Jason to Arkham instead of bringing him home. You swear you'll lose it if that's what happened.

"Um..." Gar scratches the back of his neck as he looks back to you. "Can you promise not to freak out?"

"I can't promise that." You shake your head as you brace for whatever bullshit Gar is gonna say next. "Jason, right? Something happened?"

Gar nods softly. "By the time we got to the office where Crane and Jason were, they were gone. But, we think Crane had Jason duct taped to a chair and took him with him."

You blink a few times and you swear you just forgot how to breathe. Not again. This cannot possibly be happening again.

"C-crane...you-I mean...you guys think C-Crane kidnapped him?" You sputter.

Gar nods. "Yeah."

Jason said you're the one with a habit of getting kidnapped but so far, you're both two to two here. And you hate it. Why the fuck would Crane need to kidnap him in the first place? If they're working together, then Crane has no reason to. Unless Jason is actually turning on him. In which case, it just got really dangerous to be Jason Todd.

"Do you know where they went?" You ask, trying to keep your voice level.

"No." Gar answers shamefully.

You offer a large nod as your appetite vanishes. You push from the counter, leaving the box and pot on the counter. "Thanks for telling me." You say as you walk up to Gar. "You guys aren't going to look for him, are you? And Dick said not to tell me, right?"

Gar nods once more, letting out a deep breath. "Dick thinks it could be a trap and yeah, he's worried what you'll do."

"Got it." You let out a scoff with a bitter chuckle.

All you can hear is Tim in the back of your head about how you're supposed to be a hero. Well, so is Dick. You think that word is starting to lose its fucking meaning because what kind of hero just lets a psychopath kidnap someone? You know it's more complicated than that but they're brothers and Jason was kidnapped. Again. It was fine the first time, but what? Round two and he's on his own? Is that how it is?

"You're gonna go, aren't you?" Gar asks.

"Yeah, and if Dick's gotta fucking problem with it, he'll have to go through me. I'm not letting Crane kidnap Jason and hold him fucking hostage. I don't care." You shake your head, venom shooting through your words.

There's a bit of relief that fills Gar's chest. Maybe Dick is right and it's a trap but what if it's not? Deathstroke and Dr. Light could have been a trap, it kind of was. But, Dick went anyway to save Jason and you. Trap or not, you all should be trying to find Jason and help him just in case it's not a trap.

"Can, uh, can I help?" Gar asks, making you do a double take.

Gar tends to do what Dick asks, especially since the whole Deathstroke thing and you both accidentally losing Conner for a day. You kind of figured he wouldn't try to really stop you because that would be useless but you thought maybe he'd offer some voice of reason. The last thing you ever expected was Gar to ask if he could help, despite Dick's wishes.

"Huh?" You hum, eyes wide. "What?"

"He's my friend, too." Gar shrugs. "And he came to save me. I wanna help find him." Gar lets out a breath, eyes hopeful you'll let him help.

"Yeah, uh...I mean...it could be a trap. I mean...are you sure? Dick is gonna be pissed." You furrow your brows, still eying him with confusion.

"I know." Gar nods. "But, I don't want you doing this alone either in case it is a trap or something happens like last time. I just wanna help. We can't let Crane hold him hostage."

You nod quickly, figuring maybe it would be nice to not do this completely alone. "Okay, but, can you stay here? I might have to do some stuff you don't like and if it is a trap, we might be fucked." You say and Gar is about to protest. "No, no, I have an idea. Follow me." You gesture for him to follow you as you walk past him.

You and Gar walk to Jason's room, you shutting and locking the door behind you. You go to one of Jason's hiding spots and grab the tablet. You always put it back, exactly where he kept it, just in case. You unlock the tablet and go to the software used to track your necklace. The tracking device is only synced with his tablet and his phone since you hated the idea of Bruce being able to track you. Jason was always fine.

"Here." You hand it over, showing a green blinking dot right on top of Wayne Manor. "You track me. My phone is synced to the Batcomputer. I'll text you every hour on the hour. If I miss, you call and if I don't call back in thirty seconds, get Dick. Something went wrong."

"Why do you know about this and just why?" Gar asks, confused as to what's even going on. "Why can't I go with?"

"Because Jason is a shithead who was lying to me before he died. I know where all of his hiding spots are and he knows where all of mine are. I, apparently, am the one with a habit of being kidnapped but I didn't want Bruce involved. Jason swore he'd always come find me." You shrug casually. "So, you track me and then we know where he is. And then maybe we tell Dick where they're hiding out. See, everyone wins. If you're with me and we both get kidnapped then Crane has all three of us and Dick and Kory won't know where to go. I need someone here, just in case." You explain quickly.

It's not a lie, it's true. You've put some thought into the vigilante life after all of this is sorted out, hoping things go back to some form of normal. It's dangerous to be out there as a team and alone. It's dangerous both ways and it's dangerous to have people know but, you think it might be worse for you to be alone out there and no one know where you are or what you're doing. Having someone be eyes and ears behind a screen seems like it might be helpful, especially if something goes wrong.

"Right, okay, yeah." Gar nods and this isn't really what he meant by helping but you have a point. At least this way, if something happens, it's not the three of you stuck in a bad situation with no one knowing where you are. At least they'll know where to find you and Jason. "You're gonna call if things start looking bad, right?" Gar asks as you remain silent, moving your eyes from the left to the right before landing back on Gar. "Dr. Light? Deathstroke?" Gar presses, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Fine." You nod your head quickly. "If it starts looking like it might go even a little south, I'll call you. But, I don't even know if I'll be able to find him."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I know a few people I can grab, try to get some intell on where Red Hood and Crane would go. Someone knows and they'll start talking."

Gar lets out a sigh, deciding it's best he doesn't know what you're going to do to them. Maybe him staying back is a good idea if you think that's the only way to find him. If anyone is gonna know how to work around Gothamites, it'll be you.

"They in Batcave?" You ask as you head for the door.

"Yeah."

"Great." You suck in a breath. "Okay, I'm going to get my suit and find him. If he asks, you can tell Dick you're helping but try not to show him, please. He'll come after me and probably fuck it up. If Crane has him hostage, I can get through to Jason."

"Are you going to bring him back?" Gar asks, a bit of hope in his eyes.

"Not if he doesn't ask." You shake your head. "If Crane had to duct tape him to a chair that means Jason isn't siding with him as much anymore. While I feel guilty and I hate myself for last night," You shake your head. "Maybe that does have something to do with it." You start the walk to the Batcave. "He has to make the decision on his own. As much as it fucking sucks." You scoff. "Okay, I'll be back later. Every hour." You nod once before you dart behind the grandfather clock.

You walk right over to the display with your suit, ripping the case open as you grab Dick's and Kory's attention. If they want to work this alone and not save him, fine. But that's not you and they're not stopping you.

"Where are you going?" Kory asks.

You spin around and you shrug your shoulders sadly. "To save Jason." You answer simply.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kory asks and they really should have known Gar was going to tell you immediately.

"You're staying here. We don't--"

"I don't care." You roll your eyes as you cut Dick off. "Do you really want to tell me to just...let Crane kidnap him? Me? Of all people?" You ask.

"It could be a trap." Dick argues and he's also tired of this back and forth. He's never met anyone so hardheaded. Why can't you just listen? Just once?

"Yeah, maybe." You shrug softly. "And that's a risk I am willing to take because I give a fuck about him." You snip right back. It almost feels like you're arguing with your parents.

"You could get hurt or worse." Kory states. "For all we know, this is what Crane and Jason want."

"It's not safe." Dick says. "We can't risk it. You don't know what you'll be walking into."

"I don't fucking care if I get hurt!" Your voice cracks with frustration. "That's part of the job! Getting hurt to keep people, innocent strangers safe. You think I'm not gonna risk getting a little hurt to save someone I actually care about? I love him anyway and I'm going to save him." You let out a bitter scoff. "You know, Tim said something to me last night. I didn't tell him shit, don't worry. But, he said that I'm supposed to be a hero." You shake your head. "And he's fucking right, ya know? It's just complicated but look at you guys. We're supposed to be heroes! And you're all just gonna...sit back? Let whatever happens, happen? No, fuck that. I did that last time and we see what fucking happened."

"We aren't sitting back." Dick says sternly. "We've been trying to bring home this whole time but he clearly, doesn't want that. He dug his hole and he has to deal with it. He made his choice."

"I'm not going back and forth about it anymore. Just...what is it? I mean, Deathstroke, was it just that you felt you had our blood on your hands? So, you were obligated to do something? And now that Jason's kidnapping doesn't have shit to do with you, your hands are clean? Is that what this is? Why not try to fucking save him?! You know Crane. Crane could have snapped and then...what? That's just it. One less body to deal with."

"Hey!" Kory scolds. "You know that is not what this is. We all have given Jason a fair chance but Dick's right he made his choice. He knows how bad Crane can be."

"That doesn't make it okay." You say quietly. "I made a promise to him and I broke one of those. I'm not breaking another one tonight. He is not Robin anymore so if Crane wants to go after him, he gets to deal with me and if you have such a fucking problem with that, I guess you can try to stop me but I'm going." You turn back around, grabbing your suit before you slam the case closed. "I was wrong about what I said about trying. Sometimes, it isn't enough. But, at least I'm fucking trying. Unlike you guys."

Dick lets out an exasperated sigh. "You don't know when to quit do you?"

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth perking up. "Not when it comes to people I happen to like." You spin around, suit in hand and you head off to change and leave.

"You know, she handled that well actually." Kory says softly. "All things considered."

"Yeah." Dick scoffs. "That's the worrying part."

You head off on the bike once you're suited up. You get to Crime Alley figuring that might be your best bet for any type of answer. You use your phone to look into the men you killed last night and see what their ties could be to Red Hood and Scarecrow. Their files don't have too much but they are a few notes about people the three of them used to run with so you figure you can start there. Someone knows where Red Hood and Scarecrow would be. This is Gotham and they're in the drug trade.

You track one of the men down, following him carefully from the rooftops and waiting for the right moment to confront him. The whole rooftop thing might have actually been a good idea, you will give Bruce that one. You wait until an alley with almost no lighting comes up. So, you take your opportunity to get down from the rooftops and beat him to the alley. Just as he approaches, you yank him into the alleyway, slamming him against the wet brick as hard as you can.

"Where is Red Hood?" You seethe, your teeth grinding under your mask,

The man looks down at you as your arm is pressed against his throat. "How the fuck would I know?"

You pull back just enough to shove him against the wall, this time his head bangs against the wet bricks. "Bullshit. You know where he's hiding out. Him and Scarecrow, fucking spill."

"Fuck you." He spits.

You do not have time for this. You're done arguing and going back and forth with people. All he has to do is give up a name or a place. It's not that hard. So, you pull out a knife and hold it right to his jugular.

"Do you wanna end up like your friends? It's all pretty easy to make happen." You press the tip of the knife into his skin, just enough to break skin and blood starts leaking down his neck.

His eyes widen, filled with panic. "I don't know!"

"Bullshit!" You yell back, doing your best to refrain from pressing the knife further into his neck. "Red Hood was able to get your friends which means there has to be some sort of connection. Tell me where he is."

"I don't know!" The man's voice is panicked. "Jeremiah! Word is he has an in with Red Hood and Scarecrow for whatever they're cooking."

"And where the fuck would he be?" You almost mock him. A name is fine but come on.

"Robinson Park!" He yells back, the panic leaking from his pores. "He's been dealing there."

"Thank you." You pat the man's cheek. "Was that so fucking hard?" You scoff, dropping the man. "Seriously, get your shit together and do something more productive." You roll your eyes as you shoot the grappling hook to the rooftop, leaving the man alone in the alley.

You reach Robinson Park and give Gar a quick text to let him know everything is fine. Then, you make your way inside of the park to look for this Jeremiah guy. You were able to figure out what he looks like thanks to him and the guy you just grabbed having been busted for dealing just a few months ago.

It doesn't take you too long to find him near a bridge. That's where you sneak up behind him and grab him, slamming him against the cement just as you did with the previous guy. You're hoping he'll be willing to spill a little quick but you're also betting you're not going to get that lucky tonight.

"Red Hood. Where is he?" You ask with fire in your words.

Jeremiah laughs. "You think I'm gonna tell you? You're a fucking bat--"

You yank your fist back and punch him in the face. He spits blood out by your boots, looking back at you with fury. "I am not a fucking bat." You say through gritted teeth. "I will burn you alive limb by fucking limb until you spill where Red Hood is."

"Yeah? And uh, what makes you think I even know?" He gives you this grin that makes you want to scream.

"Word is you have an in for the drug him and Scarecrow are putting on the streets. I assume it was a test run last night. Unless, you're full of shit just trying to get some weird ass respect." You quip, tilting your head to the right.

"I'm not telling you shit." He scoffs.

"You know, Red Hood decapitated six men, right? Of some of Gotham's most notorious families in the business. Yeah, I can be worse. And I will start with you." You tug your glove off with your other hand, still keeping pressure on his neck. You show the neon green so bright it illuminates your face. Jeremiah watches you before you touch a finger to his face, he lets out a horrendous scream, echoing through the tunnel under the bridge. "Every limb but I won't kill you. I'll let infection set in and that can kill you. Tell me where the fuck he is!"

Jeremiah lets out a sigh, gritting his teeth. "There's that old ice cream factory. They were cooking there."

"They're not there. Titans showed up tonight. Where else would they go?"

"Aren't you a fucking Titan?" He sneers.

"Does it really seem like I'm a Titan?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"There's the old Wellington pump station. Heard they had a hookup there." Jeremiah says reluctantly. "I don't fucking know anything else."

"Thank you." You let go of him as he falls to the ground. "You know, you should also get your shit together. I know you deal to kids. Stop or I will actually kill you. Leave kids the out of it." You roll your eyes, earning yourself a confused look as you walk out of the tunnel.

Once you get back to your bike, you head right to the pump station. The drive feels like it takes an eternity when it only takes twenty minutes. You're growing more anxious as more time goes by. You don't know how long Crane has had him tied up for or what he's doing to even keep Jason tied up. Jason should be able to get out of duct tape. So, you worry as every minute passes by.

The closer you get to the building, the more you start to remember what it was like the night he died. The drive and how it was freezing but you didn't even notice because you were so panicked. You were going to save him but you were too late. Every second from the phone call to Molly until you passed out is embedded into the deepest parts of your mind, tattooed and stitched as cruel reminders of the world you live in sometimes. You can't forget but you're trying to save Jason again and it's like you're thrown back into that night all over again.

It can't end like that again.

It can't.

When you get to the pump station, you park far off in the old parking lot before making your way to the back of the building. You use your grappling hook to get to the roof where you find a skylight looking into the building. That's when you spot Jason, now tied to a chair. Crane is walking around, throwing his hands around dramatically but there seems to be a pep in his step, as if he's happy or excited about something. You roll your eyes. He's so fucking insane.

A part of you does question if this is a trap. Jason is faster and stronger than Crane. Jason should have been able to escape. He has all of the training and he can easily take Crane. It doesn't even look like Crane is armed but you know Jason is. It doesn't make a lot of sense but you're watching carefully and Jason doesn't even seem to be partaking in whatever nonsense Crane is on about. So, you brush the thought of it being a trap away and think maybe Crane drugged him. That would explain everything. Trap or not, you're getting into this building and you're grabbing Jason.

You try to look at everything surrounding them and the drum barrels on the catwalk. All you need to do is distract Crane long enough to get Jason free. That's the point. It's not so much a rescue mission as it is just getting him free. If you can get him free and he can walk, he can escape Crane if it comes to that. Then, you spot an alarm sitting far off on the back wall and you have an idea.

"Hey, you at the Batcomputer?" You whisper into the phone.

"Uh...yeah, yeah, why? What's up?" Gar wheels himself closer to the keyboard, looking at the screens.

"Crane has Jason tied up. I'm at a pump station but I can see an alarm of some sort, not a fire alarm. Is there any way to like...trigger it from where you are?" You ask.

"I can try, hold on." Gar says as he starts typing away.

"Or trigger anything to distract Crane so I can grab Jason."

"How long do you need?"

"Three minutes, tops." You keep watch as Jason's head nods softly as if he's trying to stay awake and failing miserably.

"Okay, yeah, there's an alarm system that's still active in the building. I can set it off but as soon as Crane disables it, that'll be it. So, you have to be quick." Gar explains, getting into the building's security system.

"Okay, yeah. Quick, got it." You nod your head. "Ready when you are."

"Hang up and I'll trigger it. Text me when you get somewhere safe."

"Of course, thank you." You say softly before you hang up.

You grab a knife from your belt and start working on the lock to the skylight. Luckily, this was a part of Jason's training. Lock-picking. Of course it was. As soon as you have the lock picked and the window ready to be opened, you hear the blaring of an alarm.

Jason and Crane both jump, looking around as the noise echoes and bounces off of the walls. Crane looks to grow more and more annoyed before he storms off and that's when you make your move. You open the window, using the grappling hook to lower yourself down as quickly as possible.

Once your feet touch solid ground, you yank the hook loose and run to Jason, immediately bending down to be face-to-face with him. His pupils are blown and he's barely awake but his eyes widen just a little, trying to make you out. It's blurry but he swears it's you. That can't be right. Why the hell would you come?

You swear you find yourself hating Crane more and more by the second. You shake your head and grab a knife, cutting Jason's hands free before you come to his face again.

"Jay? Can you walk?" You ask quietly, just loud enough so he can hear you above the alarm. But all Jason does is stare at you and he just can't believe you're really in front of him right now. Maybe he's hallucinating. "Jay?" You place your hands on his cheeks. "Hey, can you walk?"

It's you. You came.

Jason nods weakly and he thinks he might burst at the seams. He thought he was alone.

"Come on." You help him up.

Jason's arm rests over your shoulders as the two of you head to the exit, opposite the way Crane went. Jason's footing is a little unsteady but he tries his best while you keep him stable, one arm wrapped around him and the other holding his arm around your shoulders.

The entire walk to your bike has Jason's head spinning, both from the high and the confusion of you showing up in the first place. You broke up with him and you gave up on him. His head might be foggy and he might be out of it right now, but he knows that happened. And yet you're here anyway. Not Dick or Kory or Gar. It's you who showed up. Maybe you shouldn't have but you did. And even in this state, Jason thinks maybe it was still a hard decision, given what happened last night...and the last time you found him. But, you showed up anyway and he does not deserve that.

Every part of you wants to explode like a volcano. It wasn't fucking a trap. Crane drugged him and tied him up so he couldn't fucking leave. That's what happened. Dick and Kory, they were wrong. They were fine letting Jason suffer over a what if situation. You just grabbed him without any damn problems. All you needed was a little help from Gar. it was fine. It went fine but who knows what Crane's plan for the rest of the night was. This could have gone so much worse for him and Dick and Kory just didn't care. They didn't care enough to try.

And then there's Crane. It just drives you insane. Jason got himself wrapped up in this but he doesn't deserve to be drugged and held hostage. You swear people in general don't really don't deserve it. But, now it's happened to Jason and you think maybe you shouldn't leave him again. Every part of you doesn't want to leave him again.

"Can you hold on?" You ask as you reach your bike.

"Uh..." Jason sucks in a breath before he nods. "Yeah, got it." He mutters, his words slurring together slightly.

"Where do you wanna go?" You ask, biting down your own hope that he'll say the manor.

Jason's heart rate spikes for a quick second with the question and for that split second, he almost spits out manor. But, that second is just that, a second. He can't go back. Not like this. Not now. If they want to turn him in, he can't run or defend himself and he's not putting you in that position anymore. So, he tells you another hideout he has and you just nod, all hopes of bringing him back fading away.

"I'll go slow." You say softly as you get on the bike first, Jason wobbly getting on behind you.

You bend uncomfortably around, popping the spare helmet on his head. You slide the face shield down before turning back around and grabbing his arms to wrap around you. Once your own helmet is on, you take off, leaving the pump station in the rearview mirrors.

When you reach the hideout, you help Jason inside and upstairs with his directions. You reach the room that contains a mattress, an old broken dresser, and a few lamps scattered about the floor. You help Jason over to the bed and help him to sit down.

Jason sits with his knees bent, feet planted on the floor and his eyes locked on you. He just can't believe this is real. He still thinks he might be hallucinating or maybe he's just having a really vivid dream.

"Are you okay?" You ask as you kneel in front of him, resting your hands on his knees but Jason's head sways. "Jay?"

Everything hurts and it's spinning. And his chest hurts, the lump in his throat hurts. Every piece of his body is aching and burning and heavy, exhausted. But, you're here, right in front of him. You broke up with him last night and you gave up but you're right in front of him and he is so thankful. Why are you here? He doesn't deserve it.

Jason reaches forward, tugging your mask off of your face as if just to make sure it's you. "You came." His brows pull together as if he's in pain.

Your heart breaks at the surprise and tenderness of his voice. He really thought you wouldn't? You know what you said but...does he think it's that easy?

"I'll always come to save you." You whisper, your eyes watering as they scan over his face.

Jason can feel his bottom lip start to quiver. He really fucked it all up and he's high and it's the worst high of his life. It all sucks and you're here and he doesn't know why. He wants to take it all back. He wants to turn back time and take everything back. He wants to go back to that day in your room when you were the one that told him loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done because he knows that isn't true anymore. And it is breaking him.

"But you..." Jason chokes on his own words. "You said you were fucking done and--"

"Doesn't matter." You shake your head, cutting him off. You search his face until his eyes meet yours. Jason thinks you've never looked sadder. "If someone's going to hurt you or kidnap you, they're gonna have to deal with me." Your voice is candid but there's a weight of heartbreak etched in every syllable.

He doesn't deserve it and Crane betrayed him and hurt him. Another person he trusted hurt him and yeah, he went behind Crane's back first but did he deserve this? And you're the one still offering him kindness through everything. He could have gotten you killed, twice, and you're sitting in front of him with sad but kind eyes and Jason hates who he's becoming.

Jason sucks in a shaky breath and there's a part of him that can't do it anymore. He can't deal with the heaviness or the way his chest feels like it's going to collapse in on itself. He can't deal with the spinning or the numbness or any of it. His head bows forward slowly until his forehead lands on your shoulder. Tears start to fall from his eyes and everything around him is fucked up and a mess and it's all his fault. Why did he do this? What has he become? Was he better off dead?

Maybe he was better off dead.

Your teeth grit together as you hear him sniffle and feel him shake. Hitting rock bottom shouldn't be like this because it's him. If only he knew that he always deserved better and believed it. Maybe if he was treated better from the beginning. Maybe if trying would have just been enough the first time around.

"Jay." You whisper, hearing a soft cry come from Jason's throat. "It's okay." You say softly, moving away just enough to get him to pick his head up. You shake your head at him, brows knitted together. "It's okay." You say again but this time you move closer and pull him into a hug and that's when Jason finally breaks entirely.

He's hurt so many people. And for what? He can feel the itch of withdrawal and the migraine kicking in. He wants to peel his skin off of his bones but his chest hurts and he doesn't think he can breathe. He sucks in a breath but all that comes from it is a cough and a cry. He wraps his arms around you and he feels you hug him tighter. Why are you doing this? He doesn't deserve it. Why did you even save him? Maybe he shouldn't be saved. Maybe Joker had it right the first time. Hank would be alive. Tim's dad would be okay. You wouldn't be mixed up in this. Dick wouldn't have been shot. Maybe it would be better if he had just stayed dead.

It feels that way anyway.

It's like a pull he can feel in the marrow of his bones, The betrayal to fate. He has no business being alive and he can feel it. Maybe that's how it should be. He was never very good at being good anyway and if he's no good, what's the point? He's more fucked up than he ever was before. Why does he bother trying? He should just be alone, it's what he deserves.

But, there's this voice in the back of his head that says maybe it's just the high this time. Whatever Crane has him on maybe it's messing with his head, maybe it's that and the betrayal of the night. Maybe it's the withdrawal. Maybe it's just a mix of everything.

So, he pulls away and your hands come to his face and it's like an instinct. There's no effort in you showing up and caring about him because you just do. And it's right now with your thumbs, rubbing the warm tears away that Jason starts to wonder if this is unconditional. There were always conditions to people loving him and he thought maybe yours was just that he was three for you, or maybe Crane was right about you using him. Maybe it was just that you felt obligated to him because of Deathstroke. But, he almost got you killed and you fought and he killed Hank and you're sitting in front of him, helping him as if it is the easiest thing you've ever done. You just do it and maybe that's unconditional, even when someone says they give up.

Jason's breath is shallow and ragged and he just can't breathe. He wants to remember what it feels like to breathe again. To breathe effortlessly.

"Hard to breathe." Jason mutters, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

You nod your head before you rest your forehead against his. Your eyes close and you just sit like that. Jason's eyes close a few seconds later and he always wonders how you know what to do and say. No one ever did. Not like this. But, you do this and the act of you being there, in this moment, without even saying a word, gets Jason to suck in a full breath for the first time tonight. His tears start to slow down and the brutal thoughts about himself start to grow quiet. The only sound he can hear is his own breathing and the cars passing outside. He never thought silence could be so comforting.

You aren't sure if this night changes anything. Maybe he'll go right back to Crane but maybe he won't. Maybe tonight and last night stacked on top of each other is enough to get Jason back on solid ground. Maybe he's tired of drowning. You're hoping he's tired of it. And even if not, for tonight, you're going to let yourself believe he is. Because he was the one kidnapped and held hostage and betrayed. He was the one left alone and the only people willing to help him were you and Gar. Maybe letting him hit rock bottom was a good enough idea, but maybe you aren't willing to follow through with it. Not if it leads him here. There has to be another way.

There is always another way.

You pull away once Jason's breathing seems to be back to normal. "You okay?" You whisper, Jason seeing your own eyes turning a light shade of pink.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Jason coughs out. "For fucking everything."

"I know." You nod your head quickly, brows pulling together.

"No," Jason spits and he hates how his mouth feels like he's tried to swallow thirty cotton balls. "You don't fucking deserve it. None of you do. I'm so sorry." Jason's voice is pleading and begging and you wish you could take out of your own heart and replace it with his just to ease some of his pain.

"Jay, you're high. We can talk about it later, okay?" You nod your head. "Come on, let's get you to bed, okay? You gotta sleep it off. I don't know what he gave you." Your hands slide off of his face and back to his knees.

You would love to discuss this now but you're not sure how much of this he'll even remember when the high wears off. If you're going to talk, you want him to be sober. This isn't actually his fault this time but you still want him to be sober.

Jason nods his head, feeling more defeated than he already was. He's thinking you really mean it. You really are done and you really are giving up on him. You were just there so Crane didn't go too far and kill him. And he wants to take it all back.

"Hey, I promise, okay?" You nod your head softly, seeing the deflated look on his face. "We can talk tomorrow if you still want to, promise." You offer a subtle but reassuring smile and that seems to do the trick.

Jason nods softly again and accepts it. He's exhausted anyway and maybe him spuing apology after apology like this isn't going to get either of you anymore. Maybe you're right. He just hopes you mean it.

"Want help?" You ask.

Jason shakes his head, tugging his jacket off sloppily before telling you his spare clothes are in the broken dresser in the corner. You grab him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from the drawer before moving back over to him. Jason struggles more and more trying to get the hoodie off, his limbs failing him as he grows defeated and exhausted. The breaking really used up all of his remaining energy.

"Lemme help." You rest the clothes beside him before you tug the hoodie off gently.

You help him take the armor off next, leaving him in a black tank top. And that's when you see two scars peaking out of the very edges of the tank top on his chest. Your heart plummets remembering exactly what he looked like after the autopsy. His face was mangled and pale, blood long cleaned off of his body and the stitches trailing from his chest down his abdomen. You wonder why those didn't heal but the marks on his face did. But, your heart breaks because now he's permanently marked with what happened to him. He'll never be able to forget it anyway, but now he has a physical reminder and that's just not fair. At least he can probably dye his hair if he wants but there's nothing to do about the scars.

Why did it have to happen to him?

You glance to his face, his eyes drooping and then you look at the white streak of hair. Jason said he thinks it's lame and you wonder what he thinks of the scars. You think he probably hates those, too. Another reminder. And you want to say something but what the hell are you supposed to say? Yeah, sorry Bruce had an autopsy performed? Didn't think you'd come back from the dead? That's ridiculous. But, you also can feel his stare falling back on you and he starts to shift. Not saying anything, that's always an option with him. You don't have to.

So, you don't. Instead, you just trace over them because that's what you always do to his scars. And Jason thinks he might cry again. He hates those fucking scars. The white streak he can deal with, but those scars? Why did Bruce even have it done? Was it not fucking obvious what the cause of death was? He was brutally murdered by a crowbar to the face, something he'll never forget, and now he has fucking autopsy scars. Those are a little hard to explain. At least if he had crowbar scars, they could be explained by a mugging. The white streak is just a choice. Autopsy scars? There's no normal explanation for those. But, then you run your thumbs over the scars anyway as if they're any other scar and Jason wants to combust. He thinks he might burst into flames right under your fingertips.

You offer a small but kind smile before you help him take his boots off. And something about him not refusing your help this time is kind of reassuring for once. Usually, Jason would be telling you he can do it himself and he's fine but now he's just quiet. A part of that is concerning but him letting you help without protest is nice and maybe he's coming around. Maybe he is off the drug.

Once Jason is out of his Red Hood gear, you help him get the other hoodie and pants on before Jason finally lays down. His head spins but his back starts to cramp in just the right way that starts to feel good. And all he wants to do is sleep this whole thing off.

You offer him a sad smile, resting your hand on his cheek. "Okay, I'm gonna head out. Call Dick if you change your mind and you wanna come home." You whisper before you go to stand up.

You don't really intend to leave. You figure you'll just go downstairs until he wakes up and then you can go from there. You don't want to overstep by staying here with him if he's not going to ask. At the end of the day, he's out of it and it's not really your place right now. Even if the very thought of leaving him alone makes you want to burst into tears.

Jason doesn't even think before he grabs your hand as you pull it away from his cheek. You haven't even gotten up. Your other hand is on your knee to help yourself up and you're looking at Jason, one brow raised and waiting. He doesn't want to be alone. Not this time. Just for tonight, he can't be alone.

"Can you stay...please?" Jason lets go of your hand, eyes looking up you, sad and pitiful.

It's like a knife is shoved through your ribs and right into your heart. How the hell could you ever say no to that? Jason Todd rarely asks people to stay and you already left him once. You're not doing it again. There will be another way because this? This isn't it. This is torture for him and for you and there is another way. You're not leaving him alone so you nod.

"Okay." You nod your head and Jason moves over. You sit down, moving the pillow up against the wall so you can lean against the wall comfortably. "You can lay down." You say softly, gesturing to your lap. "I can play with your hair until you fall asleep."

Jason eyes up you, barely keeping his eyes open but there's a warmth that consumes his chest this time. "Thanks for everything." He has no idea how he'll ever be able to repay you. But, he is so thankful you're here and that he's not alone. 

"You and me." You say right back as Jason lays his head down in your lap.

Tears prick his eyes as they close because it's still you and him. Somehow, against all odds, it's the two you. He does not deserve it but he's thankful and he loves you. His head is pounding and throbbing, dizzy and foggy but he finds himself thinking maybe he's done with Crane. After everything tonight and having you still show up, maybe you're right. You've tried to save him this whole time but all he's done is push. You stayed for him, at the very least, maybe he can try to stay for you and then himself. Even if it's too late to salvage anything between you.

Your fingers tangle through the white streak of hair, lightly rubbing his scalp and you think this feels normal. Some part of this feels normal and maybe you're starting to hope it can go back to normal if he comes back to the manor. Maybe he can forgive you. You forgive him. You forgave him the second you saw the look of withdrawal on his face. You forgave him for everything else the second your own high wore off. Maybe if he calls Dick, if he's really off of the drug, maybe it can go to normal and maybe Molly's right. Maybe you can find a way back.

You plead for you and Jason to be able to find your way back.

It doesn't take long for the exhaustion to take over and send Jason into a deep sleep. You can always tell when he really falls asleep because his leg twitches and then his entire body relaxes as if it's the only time he can really breathe. It's as if being awake is just too hard sometimes so when sleep does take over, his entire body just collapses on itself. You desperately wish it weren't so hard for him. It's not really your job anymore, but if there were a way to make it easier for him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Hey." You whisper into the phone, your hand still running through Jason's hair.

"Is everything okay?" Gar asks quickly.

"We've been worried." Kory adds in and you figure you're on speaker and you wonder when Gar decided to loop them in.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Crane drugged him. He's asleep now." You watch the white fall over your fingers and then through them. His arm is draped lazily over your legs but keeping you in place and you wonder if it still feels safe like this for him. It does for you.

"He's asleep?" Dick questions and you think there might even be a softness to his voice.

"Yes." You answer back. "Whatever Crane drugged him with was enough to subdue him and now he's tired. So, he's asleep."

"Is that what he told you?" Dick asks and you just roll your eyes.

"No, but I could tell given he was tied to a chair and I had to help him walk. He was drugged." You mutter sternly, trying to keep your voice down.

"Is he okay?" Kory asks and you can hear the worry in her voice.

You keep your eyes on him and it's the same answer. It's always the same answer and you really, really hope one day it'll change.

"No." You answer. "He's not. But I got him."

Gar can hear the bitterness mixing with heartbreak in your tone. He's relieved you were able to get Jason and setting off the alarms works. He's a little surprised it worked since the three of you together don't seem to have the best of luck. But, you have Jason now and he knows you fought with Dick and Kory before leaving, about them not helping. Gar isn't sure you're going to be so willing to come back, especially if you're getting through to Jason.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Gar asks.

You swallow thickly. "No, I gotta stay. I can't leave him like this. But, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Did he tell you anything before he passed out?" Dick asks.

"He said he was really sorry but he, uh, he was really upset and drugged so I said we'd talk later. Then, he asked if I could stay. Um...I think maybe, he'll come around when he wakes up so if he calls you, Dick, you better answer and let him come home, okay?" Your words should be stern but instead, they're desperate and aching.

"Okay." Dick agrees simply, not willing to go back and forth this time. "Did you kill anyone tonight?"

"No, " You scoff. "I let them off with a warning for helping me."

Dick gains a soft smile. He didn't want you to go. He was really concerned for your safety, for all of the Titans' safety. But, you didn't kill anyone and you were right about Jason. You got him free and brought him somewhere safe, with just a little help from Gar. You had a plan of some sort and a backup just in case it was a trap. Dick hopes Jason realizes one day how lucky he is to have someone who's willing to learn from past mistakes and forgive and forget so easily. Not many people are willing to do that. And Dick is proud.

"Good work." Dick says. "Both of you." You can't see it but he offers Gar a simple nod.

You're still a little mad but it is nice to hear you did good for once. Bruce wasn't very much of a positive reinforcement kind of person. Jason always said you were doing a good job but it was different and that's when you finally get it.

Molly and Gar were right. It was never about you being enough for him because it's different. Your validation is important but you weren't the one who gave him the suit. You weren't the one that took him in. Jason always knew you were doing good and you're good at being a vigilante but hearing it from Dick, means something different.

It's like you expect Jason to think you're good because he loves you and that's the thing. Of course, you always believed in him because you love him. That was never the issue. Dick's been doing this for over ten years. Bruce even longer. And Dick was the one who said you could be a Titan. It was Dick that introduced you to it. Like Bruce introducing Jason to it. It's different hearing it from the person who believed in you. It never had anything to do with you.

"Thank you." You say softly, a soft smile on your lips. "I'm gonna go. Thanks for letting me do this and not following me." You say. "I'll be back tomorrow." You sigh before you hang up, resting your phone on the floor beside the mattress before you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes. 

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[loislane41319]

The way you are.

Pairing: Jay Halstead x reader

Wordcount: 2064

Summary: You joined intelligence three months ago as their tech consultant. You've had a crush on Jay since the moment you met and so has he, you just haven't told each other. But, that just might chance when you decide to get a new look.

Warnings: None. I haven't been kind to Adam though...

Note: First and foremost: one of my best friends has helped my out with the plot, so big thanks to her! The story hasn't turned out exactly as I had planned, but I am satisfied with the result. Let me know if you have any feedback!

Also, the reader has glasses, just because main characters usually don't and it fit the story really well. And finally, I've gotten some inspiration from Morgan and Garcia from Criminal Minds, for those like to know.

Story:

Your heart was pounding as you walked towards your desk in the bullpen. You had started working with the intelligence unit in Chicago just three months ago and you loved it. It felt great knowing you helped put criminals behind bars, even though you did it from behind a computer. Your new colleagues had become your family. Kevin had become the brother you always wanted, Hailey and Kim had become two of your best friends and you had even grown fond of Adam, though his flirting sometimes got close to crossing the line. And then there was Jay. It had taken you less than a week to develop a major crush on the tall, muscular soldier, and who could blame you? The man looked like a dream and had a brain like very few others. Unfortunately, you were pretty sure your feelings weren’t reciprocated. Jay had barely looked at you since you started working in intelligence, let alone talked to you. It hurt and no matter how hard you tried to push away your feelings, they just kept popping up. You had tried to talk to Jay, but it was hard, taking the first step, when the object of you affection seemed to want nothing to do with you. On top of that you had never really been a people person, so you decided to just let it be.

Over the last two months you had seen a small part of the man behind the ocean green eyes and the smooth, freckled skin. You noticed how he interacted with his colleagues in the unit, how he tried to make them laugh when he could, tried to protect them if he needed to and cared about them like they were his brothers and sisters. During the nights you accompanied the unit to Molly’s, you noticed the way he treated the first responders he had crossed paths with and people he had never met with the same care and kindness he treated his closest friends. You just wished he would care about you that way.

The only people in the unit who suspected you of having feelings towards the green eyed detective were Kim and Hailey, but you hadn’t admitted anything to them.

There was one person you had admitted it to though. Your sister was one of those people who got overly exited about everything and when you told her you had a crush on one of your colleagues, she looked like she was about to burst out of her skin. You, of course, tried to calm her down by telling her nothing was ever going to happen between you and Jay, but the damage had already been done. If you had let her, your sister would’ve already started planning your and Jay’s wedding, but at that point you had reached your limit and threatened to leave if she didn’t calm down. The rest of the night, the two of you talked about everything but Jay and it was great. Though your sister wouldn’t be herself if, right before you left, she hadn’t offered you give you a fresh, new look to see if that could possibly attract Jay’s attention. Because, while she could be a lot at times, she deeply cared about you and from what you had told her, you deserved someone as good as Jay by your side.

A week ago you had decided you were done pining over Jay, since all it had brought you so far was pain and so, for the past week, you had ignored him, only talking to him if you had to. You needed a fresh start, so you had taken up your sister on her offer to give you a make over, or, in her words, a fresh, new look. That was the reason that your palms were sweating and your heart was trying to hack its way out of your chest. You had exchanged your usual jeans and flannel for an olive green power suit. You wore your hair down instead of in its usual pony tail and even the pair of rose gold glasses you had worn for years had been replaced by a set of contact lenses.

You couldn’t believe you had given your sister permission to do this. The fabric of the power suit itched, your lenses wouldn’t stay in place and the whole outfit made you feel like a pumpkin in a field of spinach. You couldn’t wait to get home and change.

“Hey, Y/N, you look great!” Hailey said. You mumbled a thanks. Kevin whistled and Adam couldn’t help himself: “Ooh, Y/N, looking smoking!” If they hadn’t noticed you were blushing before, they damn sure would now. You felt like your skin was about to melt off your cheeks. You thanked your colleagues for their complements and hid behind your desk in your pile of paperwork as fast as you could.

That morning a new case had come up. The body of a teenager had been found at a waste disposal site. It had become your job to dig into his online world to see if it had anything to do with the reason he had ended up dead. You knew you shouldn’t, but you couldn’t help relating to the victim more and more as you learned more about him. He was a loner in High School, you had been one years ago. He was more comfortable in his online world than his real one, like you. He was a hacker, so were you. At some point, it felt like you were becoming friends with him, even though you would never actually meet him.

A few hours later sergeant Voight came out of his office. “What do we have?” He asked no one and everyone at once. As your colleagues started rambling about everything they’d found, you just stared at the picture on the board. What if that had been you? What if, one day, you hadn’t come home, only for the cops to call your parents and tell them your body had been found? You felt nauseous just thinking about it, though focusing your mind on something that wasn’t yourself or your new look was kind of comforting. You had been on edge all morning because of it and you knew it wouldn’t take much for you to reach your limit.

Suddenly something Jay said, pulled you back to the conversation in front of you. “Why are cases involving hackers always so difficult?” He asked Hailey. “What do you mean?” The blonde asked in return. “Well, normal kids talk to each other. You just have to talk to their friends to get a bunch of leads. Hackers, like this guy, hide everything, so we have to waste a bunch of time looking for leads, before we can actually start investigating.”

The sound of your desk chair hitting the wall got five heads turning your way. You didn’t pay any attention to them and just left.

Jay’s words kept bouncing around in your skull as the tears that had been building up inside you finally found their way to the surface. You walked into the locker room as fast as you could. You made sure the door closed behind you before walking to your locker and taking the little box and bottle of solution for your contacts out.

A few minutes later you heard the door of the locker room opening. Not now, you thought. You were seated on one of the benches, one contact in the box, the other in your eye. Your cheeks were still wet from your tears and you didn’t doubt you had mascara streaks under your eyes. Needless to say, you didn’t exactly look very charming.

Part of you expected it to be either Kim or Hailey, but when you noticed the boots the person was wearing, it became clear it was neither. You looked up. Right into the eyes of the last person you expected to see. “What are you doing here?” You asked, your gaze returning to the stuff in front of you. “I came to check on you. You just flew out of the bullpen faster than Usain Bolt on one of his best days. What happened?” Jay asked as he sat down next to you. “Nothing, I’m fine, you go and… Why won’t these stupid contacts stay in their place?” You groaned. “Take them out.” Jay said, a soft smile on his face. You did as he said. He stood up and walked over to your locker. Returning with the case that contained your glasses, only you couldn’t see that, having taken out your contacts and put them in the box. Jay carefully placed your metal framed glasses on your nose and handed you a tissue. “There she is. Now, what’s gotten you so upset?” Jay asked. You slightly adjusted your glasses and wiped the tear- and mascara streaks off your face. You took a deep breath and let out everything you’d kept from him for the last two months. “Honestly? You are. You’ve barely said a word to me since I started working here and that sucks because you’re also the guy I’ve had a crush on for two months, but obviously you don’t want anything to do with me, so I figured I should get over it so I let my sister give me a new look, but I’ve never worn anything this itchy, these contacts suck and my hair won’t get out of my face. And on top of that what you just said about hackers isn’t true. We are normal, we have friends and once you get to know one of us, our hiding places become obvious.” You were out of breath when you stopped talking, scared to look into Jay’s beautiful green eyes. “I am so sorry. You’re right, I didn’t mean it that way. Calling them “normal kids” was a bad choice of words and I’m sure hackers have friends too. But you know I wasn’t talking about you right? I was talking about the kid whose murder we’re investigating. You’re not him.” Jay told you. “I know, I just used to be a lot like him in High School, but I guess, for me, that’s a long time ago and I’m not that little girl anymore.” You said, realising you may have overreacted a bit. “Yeah, and you’re still here. He’s not. And as for why I didn’t really talk to you, I’ve had a crush on you from the moment you walked into the bullpen. I just got terrified I’d screw things up if I opened my mouth, so I tried to show you how I felt by getting you coffee or cleaning your desk. Hell, I’ve been doing the cleaning lady’s job for her for the past three months.” Jay confessed. Suddenly a bunch of puzzle pieces fell into place. You had found a hot cup of coffee on your desk everyday, sometimes multiple times a day, but somehow never wondered who put it there. You had even noticed your workspace sometimes looked cleaner than the others, but you just figured the cleaning lady started with your desk and therefore had less energy when she reached the others.

Jay’s voice was still bouncing around your skull, only now saying the words: I’ve had a crush on you. You couldn’t think rationally anymore so you did the only thing you could think of. You kissed him. As your hands found their way into his hair, his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You pulled back when you heard the bottle of contact solution fall on the ground. Jay let go of you and picked it up. You felt a shiver run down your spine. Had it been this cold this entire time? Jay looked at you and then noticed your jacket. It was discarded on the ground in front of your locker. He stood up and seconds later you felt a piece of fabric covering your shoulders. It was a flannel. It was his flannel. He sat back in front of you and cupped your face, looking into your eyes. “And Y/N, while you did look incredibly hot in that power suit, you look just as good in jeans and even in a garbage bag for all I care. You are beautiful, just the way you are.”

[queenimmadolla]

hello!

can we please do black!reader feeling insecure and robin by fingering her in front of a mirror👀

thank you🤍

*aggrivating middle school teacher who everyone hates voice* i dunno, CAN we???

YES. YES, WE CAN.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

(Robin Buckley x Black!Reader)

warnings: insecurity, fluff, smut (fingering) and lesbian stuff. very gay.

a/n: this reader is black as stated above, while there aren't a ton of descriptors (read it over and was surprised at that considering i was imagining me while writing it lol) but the implications are very much so there and i just have to make it known. this was very therapeutic for me, Robin deserves a canon black gf ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ tagging also as robin x reader for my black babes who don't bother even using the black!reader tag since there aint much out there for us ♡

It had been a very trying season for you.VERY. 

Band season, anyways.

See, nothing sucked more than seeing your girlfriend with her ex-fling and unfortunately, you had to deal with it a lot, making sure to always show up to Robin’s competitions and events (though those were kind of mandatory since you were also a high school student). And because life hates you, Robin was always placed like right fucking next to Vickie.

You knew about their past, had been forced to witness their—albeit brief—relationship until they both got tired of dating their personality clone and determined they’d be better off as friends. A couple weeks later, a lonely Robin finally opened her eyes and realized you were right there the whole time and it didn’t take long until you began seeing each other.

That short period of time was kind of the problem. Halfway through your friendship with Robin, you’d realized you were in love with her. You hadn’t known how to feel since you were coming to the realization you were gay, then she came out to you and you suddenly felt ecstatic about your secret. Mostly. 

It was annoying when she began to pay attention to Tammy Thompson but you didn’t get a vibe from her so it didn’t kill you. 

When Steve Harrington started sniffing around her, you weren’t all that bothered, knowing she’d never return his feelings. Then you came out to her. 

You were kind of hoping you’d go right to the confessions of love, kisses and happily ever after but that hadn’t happened. It had been disappointingly realistic; she’d told you she was glad you trusted her and that was that.

Then V ickie was suddenly in Robin’s gravitational pull. She had a boyfriend her entire high school career then of course the moment Robin started liking her, suddenly he wasn’t in the picture anymore. It hurt to see her slowly take your spot in her life. Suddenly, sleepovers with Robin weren’t as frequent and then stopped altogether as she did them with Vickie instead—and it killed you to imagine what they were doing at those sleepovers. She stopped spending time with you, too. It was so noticeable, people would stop and ask you about why you weren’t with her or why she wasn’t around and you just had to awkwardly shrug it off.

When they broke up, she of course came back to you and like some stupid pathetic teenager, you acted like you had no dignity and welcomed her back with open arms, as if she hadn’t abandoned you for some pretty Molly Ringwald lookalike. Two weeks later, she invited you to the fair and kissed you at the top of the Ferris  Wheel. And despite feeling very much so like the second choice, you had kissed her back.

Flash forward to the school pep rally and you were constantly looking over your shoulder, at the area of the stands the band was occupying, where your girlfriend was being chatted up by the pretty redhead. You knew they were still on friendly terms and you wouldn’t tell Robin but it bothered you.

It bothered you so bad, your eyes would always get a little shiny due to how stupidly butt hurt seeing them together made you, all because they looked good.

They looked like they went with each other. Sure, people wouldn’t look at the two girls and think they were a couple since that would go against, like, the homo sapiens agenda or something, but to those who were like you, it would be immediately apparent they made a pretty couple. 

No one would think that about the two of you. Because you didn’t look like Vickie. Or like Robin.

You got so in your head about it, you started to feel sick. You’d informed the teacher whose class you’d come to the pep rally with you weren’t feeling well and quickly slipped off to the nurse’s office.

 You hadn’t gone unnoticed.

Since she was just a high school nurse, she’d told you to lay down on one of the uncomfortable gurney-thingies until you felt better. You’d closed the curtain to your area and cried there for a good hour before she eventually called your parents to pick you up, only disturbing you to gently inform you on when they had arrived and were waiting for you at the front office. You huffed out a sigh and got up, grabbing your backpack, you yanked the curtain open.

You inhaled sharply when you immediately locked eyes with your girlfriend sitting on one of the chairs lining the wall. Suddenly, you were very conscious of the black mascara trails under your eyes and cheeks.

You made sure the nurse was in her personal office and out of hearing range before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sick,” she grinned sheepishly, obviously not sick as she waved a note she’d received from her teacher. “I saw you leave the gym earlier and I got worried. As soon as we got back to class and I got out of that stank band uniform, I decided I was sick, which I mean isn’t totally untrue since I’m worried sick about you and I needed to make sure you were okay.” 

You felt your face get hot, “Well, I’m okay.” Liar.

Robin pursed her lips, not believing you for one second. 

“Are you sure?” Because it didn’t look like it, it was obvious to her you’d been crying and the fact you were attempting to play it off made her more concerned. You always told her when there was something wrong, always talked to her. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Was just . . . It’s nothing.” You didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. You’d done this to yourself, anyways.

She glanced around to make sure you two were still alone before she got up from the chair, leaning in to whisper, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

Robin even had the metaphorical balls to reach out and cup your cheek, thumb swiping along your cheek and smearing the mascara trail. Daring, considering neither of you were publicly out since the Midwest wasn’t so kind about it. Showing affection in public places was a dangerous move but Robin needed to touch you, comfort you.

You sniffled and caved, “I just—I saw you and Vickie together and you just looked. . .” 

You trailed off as the stupid tears began to form on your waterline again, “You looked like you go together, like you belong together.”

Robin frowned, displeased with what you were subjecting yourself to. She had no more romantic interest in Vickie, it was purely platonic. Truth be told, she didn’t really like interacting with her all that much, it was kind of awkward since Vickie would just start word-vomiting. Before, it was endearing to her but after their relationship had ended, the word-vomiting wasn’t out of nerves, it was due to awkwardness. Neither one of them was sure how to continue on being friends since they hadn’t been friends in the first place so it was just terribly awkward and usually one-sided conversation.

“Well we don’t. I belong with you.” It was surprisingly firm, something you were unused to hearing come from Robin unless she was annoyed.

It looked like she was going to say more but the nurse popped her head out of her office and you both sprang apart.

“Dear, you’re still here? I thought you’d left to go home already.”

“I’m on my way out,” You promised, heart beating wildly at having almost been caught. It seemed to satisfy her, she disappeared again, leaving you and Robin to trade that was close looks.

“Can I come over tonight?” Robin blurted out, hands twitching at her side, wanting nothing more than to hold your face again.

You nodded, pulling the straps of your backpack on.

She looked relieved and almost leaned in, no doubt to give you a kiss, before she caught herself. “Okay, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah,” you whispered out before scurrying out of the room.

You’d told your parents your illness was just some bad cramps, so they had no problem letting Robin come over. It meant they didn’t have to deal with your mood swings since you weren’t notoriously friendly during that time of the month.

Later that night, when Robin walked into your room, the first thing she did was lock your bedroom door.

“Alright, you beautiful human being.” She awkwardly tried kicking her converse off and cursed under her breath when she couldn’t because of how tightly they were laced. After she aggressively pulled at the laces, she yanked them off her feet and fell back on your bed, leaning back on her arm. She parted her legs and tapped the space on your blankets between them. “C’mere.”

You immediately crawled over, ready to straddle her but she tutted, manhandling you until your back was to her chest and you were staring at your reflections in the mirror attached to your dresser. 

“There we go,” She chirped, arms wrapping under your bust as her chin settled over your shoulder. “See, I don’t ever want to invalidate your feelings because I love you, but it’s mind boggling to me that you would think Vickie and I look good together when we so obviously look like soulmates.”

You frowned at her reflection, “We do?”

“Oh, we do. You and I look so good together. Of course, mostly because you’re so freaking pretty,” She didn’t break eye contact as she pressed a kiss to your neck. Her lips didn’t leave the area, “And it kills me that you can’t seem to see that.”

That does it.

You burst out laughing, nose scrunching and body shaking as you let your weight collapse back into her. Robin rolled her eyes, unwinding her arms from around you so she could lean back on her hands to wait for you to calm down.

“I’m sorry!” You croaked out, still laughing like a hyena. In your fit, you ended up falling of the bed, back to your carpet as joy filled every cavern of your chest. 

Her lips pursed comically, obviously trying to hold back her own smile. She knew what had been the cause of your case of the cackles, Robin could be bossy and she was hot, you thought she was so hot, but.

But. But. But.

She could not be intentionally sexy. On accident? Sure. On purpose??? Not so much. And you didn’t mean the way she dressed, which was hot too. She just couldn’t be very dominating. It was cute when she tried, because you knew she was trying so very hard to not be awkward. 

“I’ll wait,” The way she said it, like a substitute teacher who couldn’t wrangle their class was intentional, she even sat up and clasped her hands in her lap.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized once more, sitting up as your laughter turned to giggles. Once those were under control and you were smiling like an idiot, you knee-waddled back over to her. Robin made sure to keep you at bay with her hands outstretched to block access to her lap. “C’mon, tell me all about it!” 

“No, you lost that privilege.” There was no sincerity to it, her pretty mauve lips were curled into a teasing smile. “Go laugh some more.”

“Please?” You asked, eyelashes batting up at her. She was a sucker for your eyes—and really looking forward to sex—so she caved immediately, though you didn’t climb back onto your spot, choosing to tackle her to the bed and pin her hands to the bed instead as the both of you laughed.

You were about to trail your hands lower, towards her armpits where you knew she was the most ticklish when your brain registered she wasn’t not laughing anymore. You blinked down at her, taking in the shift of the atmosphere.

Robin was staring up at you, blue eyes full of adoration, reverence, her lips parted a little almost like they were frozen around a soft gasp. She was looking at you like she couldn’t believe you existed, let alone existed as her girlfriend. 

She’d had her fair share of crushes, dream girls, likes-at-first-sights. Had one prior relationship, one that made her long for the formers just because of how much work she hadn’t known went into relationships. 

Vickie was nice, sweet and a little too much like her. It was annoying, she’d begun to think Vickie was annoying and that was when she realized how unfair she was being. Ever see those tv shows where the best friends are so in sync, they’re talking in unison? Constantly saying the same thing at the same time? Yeah, there was a reason why they were just friends. It’s cute the first couple of times, creepy and agitating the rest.

She’d felt like such a failure when they called it quits, though. Robin finally had one of the dream girls interested and it didn’t work out. It felt real shitty. She vowed to go easier on Steve, if he felt like that all the time, he deserved a break from her antagonizing.

Then you happened. Well, you were always there, swooping in when Barb had abandoned her in favor of being friends with Nancy—okay, that was a little mean, Robin could have easily interacted with both, she was just in her ‘I’m not like those girls’ phase, which you put up with—didn’t even seem to mind when she started hanging out a little more with Steve than she did with you (you did, just hurt in silence), always answered your phone when she needed you, like you had some sort of Robin Senses. 

Yeah, you were always there. Hadn’t even been doing anything when she came to the realization. You’d been laughing at some memory Jonathan and Will had been telling, your hyena cackle echoing in Nancy’s basement and Robin had the most tit-clutching thought about how much she loved your laugh, how much she loved you.

And she knew she had a chance with you—or at least fit the demographic you wanted to appeal to—so she hadn’t hesitated, not willing to waste a single second. She’d been stupid in love and somehow gayer ever since.

“I do, though.” She rasped out into the tension filled air between the two of you.

“Huh?” Came your very in-sexy reply.

“I wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” your hold on her loosened as she rose from the bed and you found yourself once more perched in her lap as she whispered your name, “You’re . . . Everything.”

The emotion she conveyed behind it had slick pooling in the heat between your thighs.

You didn’t protest when she maneuvered you back into position, staring at her reflection in the mirror. 

“Eyes on you,” She commanded and your gaze darted to the side, to stare into your own eyes. Your breath hitched as she undid the buckles to your overalls and you lifted your hips to help her push them down your thighs, body temperature rising the moment they hit the floor. 

“Pretty,” She commented as she hooked a finger into the side of your yellow panties and you winced, wishing you’d gone with one of the few sexy pairs you had instead of just a cotton pair. They weren’t as easy to get off, you’d thoroughly soaked the center so they stuck to your labia. When she’d managed to pull them away, down the meat of your thighs, a thick, clear string of your slick refused to part with them, Robin had to run her fingers through it to sever the connection and her whimper did nothing to help with your waterpark down there.

“Okay—Jesus—I know I’m not really great at sounding super sexy with my words, but babe, thatwassofuckinghotohmygod.” She hadn’t even pulled your panties completely off yet, they remained just above your knees since she couldn’t be bothered to do anything but rub your excitement between her fingers. 

Oh. Your mouth dropped open, as you watched her suck her digits into her mouth, eyes fluttering closed as she hummed around them before pulling them back out, tongue pressing against the roof of her mouth to savor the taste of you.

“And you taste so fucking good, too. It’s not fair.” She whined before she went straight to business, ring and middle finger reaching down to nudge at your clit and when you inhaled sharply, she began teasing it, rubbing little circles into the sensitive patch of nerves.

Your head dropped back onto her shoulder as you whimpered.

“Uh-uh, eyes on the mirror, babe.” Her ministrations slowed, forcing you to raise your head and stare at your disheveled reflection. Your forehead was beginning to shine, sweat already beginning to break through your skin. 

The moan that came out of you when her fingers dipped low, past your clit to rub at your hole was near pornographic and Robin had to quickly slap her free hand over your mouth, refusing to stop the descent of her fingers but unwilling to have your parents ruin it.

“Shh, baby, you have to be quiet,” She whispered against your ear, pressing a kiss to the skin behind it.

“I can’t,” you whined against her palm, smothering another one of those moans against her palm when her middle finger slipped easily inside of you followed shortly by her ring finger. She was ruthless, plunging, curling and dragging them against your walls, “‘s so good!”

It wasn’t long before the sound was apparent, a delicious squelch every time her nimble fingers plunged in and out, never fully leaving the warmth of your cunt. 

“Almost there,” she sighed out, breath hot against your neck. Robin licked her lips, brows furrowed as she reached a little deeper, fighting off a proud smirk when she heard you keen, chest heaving—and yeah, she kind of regretted not taking your shirt off so she could stare at your tits but another time—as she finally found that spongy spot inside of you, finger pads pressing insistently at it.

Just like magic, you melted; body going lax as you relaxed completely into her embrace. Robin loved to get you like this, you always became so pliant when she found your g-spot, like a ragdoll Robin could have her way with. It also meant she was finger fucking you so good you legitimately couldn’t form words, could barely make a sound, forced to pant out huh-huh-huhs as she bullied your pussy, thumb coming in to the mix to play with your clit and resume those tight circles from earlier.

“There we go,” she let out a breathless laugh and your head lulled to the side, body puddy in her hands and thighs quaking over hers. “You gonna come for me? Squeezing my fingers awful tight.”

You were about to try to tell her to shut up, or maybe beg for her not to stop when your eyes locked on the mirror again, gaze taking in your sweaty face once more before glancing at Robin’s reflection. She wasn’t staring back at you, no, her gaze was locked on the reflection of what her hands were doing between your thighs. That area of the mirror ended up attracting your attention, too.

It was completely obscene, you could see your slick coating your inner thighs, your mound and her fingers every time she pulled them out, pale skin and pink knuckles glittering with your wetness, a contrast to the dark shade of your legs surrounding them. Even her thumb was coated, pressing it into your clit as she massaged it. A beautiful mess, while it was clearly your body and you could simply look down to see her taking you so thoroughly apart, it was somehow more vulnerable to see it happening to your reflection, to the pretty, sweaty girl sat on your girlfriend’s lap.

You really were beautiful. 

You choked on a moan, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm hit you hard and Robin cursed under her breath as you pulsed around her fingers, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing.

She didn’t relent even as she felt you get wetter, rubbing furiously at your clit to prolong it for you, didn’t stop until you whined and reached a hand down to yank hers out of you when it became too much. 

Robin pressed a smattering of kisses to your hairline as you heaved, then turned her head to the side as she sucked your spend off your fingers like honey, making sure they were coated in her spit and she hadn’t let any of it go to waste. 

You watched her reflection, took in how pleased she looked with herself before those pretty blue eyes were on you again, winking at you through the mirror.

“Told you we look good together.”

[moonlightdancer26]

What know what other character I love who gets paid dust? Fleur frickin Delacour. My girl was a Triwizard champion and a war hero. She was an extremely talented witch and a very smart (BILINGUAL!!!) person, not to mention badass and tough as nails, and yet other characters treat her like some kind of floozy. Ginny and Molly are allowed to antagonize and make fun of her with zero consequences, and the text validates it. What is it about Fleur that makes her so awful in their eyes? That she’s French? That she’s quarter Veela? That she’s pretty? That Bill is marrying her and not some demure English girl his parents picked out for him? Like the twins do with Percy, they constantly antagonize her and then act like SHE’S the terrible one when she defends herself. My girl put up with being objectified her entire life. Pay her some respect.

I CAN’T EVEN EXPLAIN HOW MUCH I LOVE FLEUR

She literally deserves the world. She wasn’t even from Britain, yet she permanently moved there for Bill and was still getting accustomed to learning English. She also quite literally had NOTHING to do with the war besides Bill. She could’ve fled, but willingly stays and risked her life for the man she loved. She may have been “aRrOgAnT” (are people not allowed to complain about things they aren’t used to??) but she was also brave, loving, kind, strong, loyal, and protective. Molly was a grown ass woman and should’ve given Fleur more recognition for moving countries and making an effort to form a good relationship with Bill’s family. She should have also scolded Mione and Ginny whenever they’d mock her. She also tried to pair Bill up with Dora despite the fact that both of them were in love with someone else. And shouldn’t she have made an effort to be nice to Fleur? Bill clearly loved her, did Molly not trust her own son’s judgement?

If Fleur had not been a traditionally feminine French woman, I’m sure as hell they wouldn’t have antagonised her.

And, like you said, she was literally objectified by everyone all her life. That dinner scene in the Yule Ball where Roger Davis literally wasn’t listening to a word she said, like holy shit imagine that kind of shit happening to you everyday. And the phrase “Just look at her! She was asking for it!” must’ve been used on her a billion times, it’s literally so gross I feel so bad for my girl. She deserves all the respect

Also I was writing my tags and my sister asked me why I was so invested 💀 I’m out rn but I still wanted to answer this

[nowiamcoveredinyou]

Our own fairytale

Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 5519

A/n:- the most stupid idea perhaps with which I came up! Still if you enjoy it, lemme know!

The room lit up with the sunlight that came straight through the window. A Sunday that was as bright as it should when we think of the day. Yet Sherlock and John had to go out on a case. However they've promised to be back home before lunch.

"And then? What happened to the beast?" Asked Rosie, who laid her head on my lap as we sat in my bedroom... Well Sherlock and my bedroom. If the boys are out writing new pages of their adventures why not we enjoy some fairy tales too.

"Well, he turned into Handsome prince which he was before the enchantress came" I answered lightly booping the nose of Rosie, making her giggle.

"And belle and beast" she said getting up, "lived happily ever after."

"Well" I objected, "belle and the prince".

She nodded like she understood. She's a very feisty little girl, then she said,

"So beast... I mean the prince gave belle his library?" She was fascinated by the idea of having a personal library.

"Yes he did." I answered.

"Like Sherlock gives you books?" She asked and leaned on me.

"Mm hm yes absolutely" I answered remembering the moments of him buying me books. He always observes and notices the books on my online shopping app's wishlist. And surprises me as he buys one at a time for me.

"When will he come? And daddy?" She asked.

"Before lunch" I replied and Rosie got on the floor, humming and roaming around.

"Beast... I meant the prince .. he was so cruel to everyone no?" She enquired.

"Well it's because he didn't see anything good in him. He pushed everyone away because he thought he is not good enough, he ... " While saying I remembered how Sherlock pushed his friends away too. John told me once, he never thought he deserves anything good, he pushed everyone away who wanted nothing but to be with him, help him see good in himself. John, Molly, lestrade, Mrs Hudson... All of these friends of him still stayed because they knew, deep down Sherlock cares for them. It's just... He fights with criminals and they brings out the worst in him, he just wanted to protect his friends from all those cruel and evil men and women whom he encountered..

"He?" Rosie's voice popped my thought bubble.

"Y-yes?" I replied, I was obviously absent minded, and lost in all those thoughts, "where was I?"

"About the beast" Rosie reminded.

"The prince and yes... He just found the warmth and kindness in Belle, which was long worn out from his life, belle taught him to find joy in simple things" I answered and that again reminded me how Sherlock and I found tranquility in small things too. Like sitting together, walking hand in hand and how he told me "the way you giggle at the most simplest things is fascinating". He said he likes to see the world with my eyes, it's brighter that way. He said "you're my sunshine, you brightened my dark days". Maybe yes, for he loves when I speak of things I adore with passion. He loves to listen to me, even if I'm just describing a poem I read recently. He, the loner that he is, even loves my family, he says they always makes him feel included.

"This prince and Belle's story is" said our little Rosie, "seems familiar".

I got up and went closer to her, and we both went to the living room, "why's that?"

"Well.. you read books, and you're also very warm" saying so she hugged me, and she is the sweetest.

"Aww my darling thanks" I was about to hug her back but my phone rang. I took my phone to see the call I was expecting, right before lunch,

"Yes?" I answered to my husband.

"We've come" he replied from the other end.

"Okay " saying so I hung up smiling and went to the window, there came the two men talking and discussing about their case. Lestrade gave them a lift in his car and dropped them home. Rosie stood beside me too, she giggled suddenly, and that indicated she has something to say, either clever or funny,

"There comes our prince to her Belle."

I blushed at this, even Rosie called me Belle. Belle is my favourite princess of all time. And whenever someone compares me with her I feel delighted, especially when someone compares my relationship with the fairytale one.

"Yeah there he comes, with his clogsworth and Lumiere" I said making Rosie laugh,

"Is Mrs Hudson our Mrs Potts?" She asked, exactly how I like it, making her obsessed with my favourite Disney film too.

"Could be, are you our chip?" I asked and that made her even happier, however before she could answer Sherlock and John came in arguing, as usually blaming lestrade for being stupid.

"Welcome" Rosie said and bowed to them in a princessly manner, they were stunned and confused. Only I knew I have put the seeds of Disney too deep in her brain. She's obsessed over beauty and the beast.

Sherlock and John stood confused, not knowing what to say to that. But her father obviously recalled she had homeworks and followed her asking her about her studies while Sherlock walked to me asking,

"What was that?"

"I don't know" I said smirking, "rude detective."

"Okay sweet princess" he said and was about to walk away but came back and took my chin between his fingers and whispered, "my Belle".

Then pulled me into a kiss. Just like the the fairytale one. After the kiss he handed me a paper bag and I know what's in it exactly,

"The secret garden, it's latest on my Amazon wishlist, Thank you" I thanked him taking the book out. Sniffing the pages.

"No problem" he said, he paused, I know why, admiring me while I admired the book, "I don't have a Library like prince Adam to give you.." he continued, "but...I'll make you a library, little by little, with all your favourite books."

[i-love-oliverwood]

THE NIGHT WE MET || FRED WEASLEY

NOT MY GIF

warnings- sad, maybe cursing?, and mentions of death

summary- reader is still struggling two years after fred weasley her boyfriend passed away.

-Your Pov-

Take me back to the night we met

It's been officially two years since the love of my life passed away. Fred Weasley... the boy who always knew how to put a smile on my face, the boy who made me feel unstoppable, the boy I loved so so much, it hurt. And now he's gone. That smile, that laugh, the way he held me, his voice, they way he would tell me he loved me, and his kisses. All gone.

George, Ron, and Molly did everything to get me out of my room. Godric, it's been two years and I'm still sulking. George has been too but he's finally starting to leave his room. I couldn't do it. I can't.

There was a knock on my door, "Sweetheart? Are you awake?" It was Molly. Molly has been way too good to me. After my parents had died when I was fourteen, she took me in, knowing how much Fred loved me. I am now 22 and still living with her. I felt so guilty, she doesn't have the heart to kick me out. I felt like such a burden. What's the point of living without Fred?

"Yeah." I spoke up. She creaked the door open, her heart breaking slightly to see me still wrapped up in bed. Wearing Fred's sweater that I haven't took off unless it needed to be washed. His t-shirts spread out all over my room, I can't let him go. They were losing his scent, it felt like the last thing I had of him. But now all I smell is me.

"Honey... you should get up." She sat on the edge of my bed.

I sat up, "Molly... I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"You have to live on for him." She weakly smiled, "It's what he would have wanted. I know you two loved each other so much and this is incredibly difficult. But it's been two years, sweetheart. He would hate to see you still hurting like this."

"I can't get over it." I shook my head, my voice cracking from being silent for so long, "I just want to see him again. Tell him how much I love him. I want to feel him next to me again. I want to hear that goddamn laugh of his again. I want him to tell me everything is gonna be okay."

"I know, I know." Tears filled her eyes, "He's looking down at you, I know it. He's probably aching to see you this way. I might not be Fred but everything is gonna be okay. It might not feel like that right now but you will see him again someday. Just live your life for him, it's want he would have wanted."

"I'm sorry, Molly." I wiped my tears away, "You don't deserve to be taking care of someone like me. I'm 22 for crying out loud and I can't get out of bed."

"You meant a lot to Fred, which means you mean a lot to me. You had a terrible thing happen to you, I'll take care of you for as long as you need." She smiled softly and stood up, leaving me in the room alone.

I curled back up in my bed. And I slowly drifted back to sleep.

I was woken up when I felt an indent on my bed, telling me someone had just sat down. I rolled over to see that ginger hair that I loved so much.

"Hello, love." Fred smiled, making me jump out of my bed.

"How... What?"

"I'm apart of your memories." He caressed my cheek, he was cold. And this was definitely all in my head but it felt so real.

"Oh Freddie." I tackled him into a hug. "I miss you so so much."

"I know." He held onto me tightly, "I miss you so much more."

After a few moments of hugging, I sat down next to him. I couldn't take my eyes away from him, it was like he was really right next to me.

"You should listen to my Mum." He sighed, "She's right. I don't want you sulking like this for me."

"You were my only purpose, Freddie. Without you, I just feel so lost."

"I need you to live on for me. You know I love you, and I know you love me. I can't have you throw away the rest of your life away for me. It hurts to see you hurting like this, love."

"I've been searching for a trail to follow again. But there's nothing. It's you, I need to be with you again. Just take me back to the night we met."

"Believe it or not, you can do this without me. Just know, I'll always be keeping an eye on you. I will see you again one day just remember that." He grinned, "I don't want you to think you can't move on from me. If you find someone who makes you as happy as you made me, go for it. I'm sorry that our time was cut short."

The thought of being with anyone else makes me ill, "I can't stop thinking about that night, Freddie. I had all and then most of you, some and now none of you. I can’t get your face out of my head, the night was filled with terrors, and your eyes were filled with tears."

"Don't think about that, love. Remember the night we met. That's something worth remembering." He smiled softly, cupping my cheek.

"Oh, take me back to the night we met." I cried and held onto his hand as he slowly faded away. Hot tears fell down my face, it was such a short conversation. I'm haunted by the ghost of you.

He's gone, he's really gone. And that's what really just sunk in. Going against Fred's wishes, when he's dead, seemed selfish. I need to live my life for him, and that's going to start now.

[snowangeldotmp3]

tw: internalized homophobia dedicated to @figthefruitfaeth bc zoey and i were talking abt comp het and femme4butch nancy and then this was born.

Something is wrong with Nancy.

This was her third failed date since her breakup with Jonathan.

She doesn’t know what it is, why this was her third failed date. Nancy doesn’t do failed dates, much less three of them within the span of a few weeks. She’s not gonna call him—James or Jasper or whatever his name was—the date was awkward and suffocating and Nancy really just wanted to leave, but, manners and all that. To make things worse, Nancy just, couldn’t find him attractive. It felt like a pity date on his part, mostly. And to make things worse, they had absolutely nothing in common. He kept talking about what he expects from a woman; a stay at home wife and kids and everything that Nancy detested. Everything she actively wanted to avoid.

At least her and Jonathan had shared trauma, and a genuine connection—even if it was as just friends.

That’s why they’d broken up, actually. It wasn’t that she didn’t love him, she did! She loved him more than she ever thought about loving Steve, but it wasn’t in the way that she knew he ought to be loved; he deserved better than that. She couldn’t love him more than that. There was something wrong with her.

She just doesn’t know what.

Nancy sighs, rubbing her face and staring back at the ceiling. The ceiling stares back, and Nancy knows, despite the downpour outside, that she will not be sleeping tonight. At least, not for a little while, anyway.

She tosses to one side, arm curled under the pillow, now staring at her bubblegum pink walls, and recalls the events of all three failed dates, trying to see where they all went wrong. And all three come back the same; Nancy just... didn’t like them.

If she’s honest, she would’ve rather spent time with Robin at Family Video, unofficially stocking tapes and goofing off, making a ranking list of best to worst Molly Ringwald movies. Or listening to Robin ramble about whatever book she’s reading, or about her nerves for college.

Now that she thinks about it, she doesn’t even know why she went on those dates in the first place.

That’s a lie. She does know why. She needed a distraction. A distraction from a certain dirty blonde who works at the video store.

Nancy doesn’t know why she can’t stop thinking about Robin. She should be thinking about Jeremiah or Jacob or whoever the hell she saw tonight, but, no matter what, she keeps going back to Robin.

Her and Robin’s friendship had come easy after spring break. Both of them too afraid to be alone for too long, and Nancy specifically, wanted to make sure nothing bad would happen to Robin. She almost lost her in the Upside Down and she was not going to lose another person to that godforsaken place.

And maybe that’s why Nancy can’t stop thinking about Robin, because she reminded Nancy so much of Barbara. Down to Robin’s nerdy little interests, so close to Barb’s own nerdy interests—stuff that Barb was always so passionate about that Nancy always wanted to listen to her. Couldn’t help but listen to her. Nancy was never sure what it was with Barb, why she always felt this magnetic air around her, an electricity that Nancy constantly tried to ignore when Barb would accidentally brush her pinkie walking side by side in the hallways. She always wanted to be around Barb, and she could never figure out why.

Why Nancy loved it when she made Barb laugh with her stupid jokes; why she thought seeing Barb smile—she could be a little serious, much more serious than Nancy, so making Barb smile was usually the highlight of Nancy’s day—was like winning the lottery. Why their sleepovers always ended with Nancy curled up into Barb’s side, trying to get warm, and an arm slung over her waist, pulling her closer.

Why her death destroyed Nancy. A mourning that sometimes, Nancy never thinks she'll get over. What happens when you don’t know where to put all of that grief? Where does it go?

Nancy huffs, turning to the other side, where bubblegum walls and Tom Cruise stare back at her, still wide awake.

It was nice to have another friend, too, one that she could call in the middle of the night and talk about anything—everything—and feel like she’s got a real friend again. A best friend, even. She’s not a replacement for Barb by any means--nobody could replace her, but it is nice to have someone to talk to again. Someone who shares her love for stupid little jokes and who never fails to make Nancy laugh, even when she doesn’t want to. Someone who Nancy feels drawn to; this warm, giddy feeling inside when Nancy hangs out with her.

Thinking about Robin now—her laugh, her eyes, her hands—the feeling returns, taking root and blossoming inside of her, warming her inside and out, making her face flush and her stomach flip. Nancy can’t help but smile softly into the darkness.

Isn’t that how she was supposed to feel about Jack? That fluttery nervous feeling?

Wasn’t that how she was supposed to feel about Steve? And Jonathan? And the other two guys she went on a date with?

What was wrong with her?

[fallen-gravity]

Same energy!

NO YOU SEE I'M STILL INSANE ABOUT THIS I WROTE A WHOLE ANALYSIS ON THIS BACK IN APRIL/MAY

This goes even doubly so now!! Obviously Ollie's parents aren't anywhere near as horrible to him as Belos was to Hunter, but it's about being denied affection in a time of need and forgetting that you deserve it and the oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. reaction you have when you finally recieve it. Ollie defies his parents and tells them hey, I don't want to hunt ghosts anymore, I stopped hunting ghosts ages ago because they can be good, actually, and I have proof, and even though he didn't say it in those words or in any way that made it seem like he was talking on nay level other than a hypothetical one, his parents still rejejcted him. Sure, they hugged him and said they were proud of him for how empathetic he's become, but not before shoving him away and scolding him on how wrong he is.

Ollie and Hunter both struggle with the idea that love is something that you earn. Even way back in Book Marks the Sprite, when Ollie still genuinely believed in ghost hunting, a good portion of his plot of the episode was about how he just wanted trust and respect. He put a special emphasis on not wanting to let Molly down in particular. He feels like he has to earn her trust and affection now that she knows he hunts ghosts, and that's before he even knew about Scratch! He thinks he's only worthy of affection and praise if he's doing something right. He especially makes emphasis on this while they're at the ice cream shop when he states that Molly's not like the others. Others see him and his family as a joke, but she doesn't.

Episodes following Some-Ollie like Frightmares and Unhaunting show him struggling with a similar problem. He knows he did something wrong, and therefore he thinks he's practically human garbage for it. He wants to get better, mind you, and actively tries, but he's so, so quick to jumping to conclusions that everyone must hate him and that there's nothing he can do about it that it usually takes Molly taking him by the hand to snap him out of that whirlwind of thoughts. He doesn't feel worthy of love unless he proves himself, so when he recieves it without actually doing anything spectactular to earn it, it catches him off-guard. Unhaunting is a really good example of this, because the thing that stops him from crying during his breakdown is Molly gently grabbing him by the shoulder. Sure, her words are what stops him from breaking down, but essentially....

this is what makes his brain halt for a moment. He's recieving gentle affection when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. Ollie, like Hunter, thinks the only option for doing something wrong is isolation and punishment.

The Grand Gesture is such a fun episode for similar reasons. Molly's not really acting like herself, and she keeps setting him up for all of these grand gestures that either end up going disastorously wrong or just happen to fall in line with things she didn't know he didn't like. He sees her going over the top for him, he hears her calling their walk in the park romantic, he sees the blush on her face, and he...

thinks she hates him.

He has so much internalized self-hatred that it's hard for him to believe that Molly could possibly like him. Especially so soon after he opened himself up to his parents and got rejected. Probably especially after what happened at the school dance a few months(?) prior. It's his default to assume he's the one doing something wrong.

So when you take the boy who hates himself with everything he has, and you give him a girl who loves him with every fibre of her being, well....

it's no wonder you're going to find similarities

[talonslockau]

Forest of Secrets - Chapter 12

Chapter 11 || Index || Chapter 13

Fireheart’s wounds stung as he wearily followed Yellowfang into camp, but he kept his head held high nonetheless. By the nursery, he could see Snowkit alongside five younger kits watching with wide eyes as they returned triumphantly. Closer to the entrance, the elders were bickering amongst themselves, but they slowly quieted as they caught sight of the returning patrol and the broken body that the healer leading them was carrying.

Bluestar herself was waiting for them by the Highrock, her blue eyes narrow as she watched them approach. “What has happened? Dewpaw and Longtail returned with Mistspring, but-” Her eyes widened in shock as she saw who Yellowfang was carrying. “Is that Brokentail?”

“He was hit by a Monster trying to flee from us.” Dustleap snarled before the old healer could set her burden down. “Yellowfang insists we should let him live instead of killing him for his crimes against the code!”

“He lives because Starclan wills it!” The cantankerous molly snapped back at him, turning a baleful copper gaze on the young tabby before turning to Bluestar. “They would not have let him return if they did not want him here. Starclan has spoken: Brokentail must be allowed to live!”

Bluestar looked upon the mangled tom uneasily. “Brokentail.” She murmured softly, her gaze cold and unkind - so different compared to how she often looked at Fireheart and the rest of her Clan. “What do you have to say in your defense?”

He couldn’t see the tabby’s expression from where he was standing, but the ginger tom could only imagine that the rogue’s face was twisted into a deep scowl. “I have nothing to say to you!” He spat at her spitefully. “Thunderclan is full of weak mousehearts. I should have driven you all out when I had the chance!”

The silver leader’s eyes narrowed at the provocative words, but she seemed almost amused by his words more than offended. “And yet you never could.” She replied steadily as she looked back up to the patrol. “I do not understand, Yellowfang. Brokentail has broken every law of Starclan’s noble code. And yet you claim he is here because they willed it?”

“Starclan is the one that grants us lives, Bluestar.” The grizzled healer responded with a dip of her head. “And they are the ones that can take them away, as well. If they had wanted him to die by the Thunderpath, they would have done so. And yet, they have allowed him to live. It is Starclan that judges us for our deeds; if they have decided he still deserves to live, then who are we to claim that we know better?”

Fireheart refrained from rolling his eyes at the healer’s superstitious nonsense. There was no such thing as multiple lives; every cat knew that, or else Quickflash might have come back. Whatever powers Starclan did have, it was very obvious from having met Redtail that they would not interfere so boldly by resurrecting such a horrible leader. Still, he knew better than to interrupt her.

His ear twitched as he heard someone emerge from the bramble tunnel behind them. Glancing back, he saw as Tigerclaw entered camp, his amber eyes glowing as he spotted his son next to Bluestar. The tabby tom made straight for the small crowd, while Peppermask and Darkstripe looked on curiously behind him.

Bluestar gave a slight nod to her deputy, but didn’t take her eyes off of Brokentail. “Be that as it may, Yellowfang, what would you have me do with him? Even if we let him live, he would die soon enough without aid.”

“You’re not suggesting we throw him out?” The healer sounded astonished, as though the thought had never occurred to her. He didn’t know why: it sounded like a perfectly sensible solution to him. “We would be no better than him, throwing out the broken to die in the wilderness!”

The fur on Bluestar’s scruff rose at that. Fireheart winced, remembering how irate she had been at Mosspaw’s exile. “Those are not remotely the same. He exiled innocent kits because he couldn’t be bothered to use herbs: he is a murderer, and should be treated as such.” Bluestar responded coldly. Tigerclaw nodded approvingly beside her, and though it rankled him to agree with the traitorous tabby, he had to admit he could not argue with her. “There is no place in our camp or our territory for him.”

“If I may, Bluestar.” The crowd turned to see One-eye approach slowly. “The Clan once took prisoners, many seasons ago, back in the days when we fought bitterly with Windclan for territory. It has been long since that foxhole was used, but-” She glanced disdainfully at the exiled rogue before them, “I’m sure it would still fit him.”

“Keep Brokentail? In our own camp? One-eye, you must be mad.” Tigerclaw growled as he shook his head. “He would murder our kits by sundown!”

“I’m old, not senile! You’d do well to remember that, Tigerclaw.” The old white molly swung her head to glare at the deputy with a snarl. “I may only have one eye left, but I can see as well as you can that he’ll never be able to walk again. Even if he does manage to escape the prison, I’m sure whatever warrior is on guard duty will be able to catch him before he makes it to the nursery. Unless you don’t trust them to take on a two-legged elder, in which case they shouldn’t be on guard duty at all.” The elder gave a wide yawn once she finished her speech, showing off her broken and missing fangs prominently.

The deputy growled lowly in response, but he seemed momentarily cowed by the elder. Fireheart was surprised and impressed - not many cats could speak to the mighty warrior that way and expect to keep their ears. Beside him, Bluestar seemed thoughtful. “Perhaps it would be better to have him somewhere we can keep an eye on him.” She mewed at last. “He has already demonstrated a remarkable ability to survive destruction, like a swarm of rats. If we didn’t kill him now, it’s impossible to know what harm he could bring later.”

“You’re not seriously considering it?” Dustleap huffed bitterly as he lashed his tail. “Well, I’m not hunting even a flea for this pile of crowfood! He can starve to death for all I care.”

He glanced at Bluestar, wondering what the leader was going to say, but it was Yellowfang that spoke first. “I will care for him.” The old molly growled roughly, dipping her head to the silver queen before her. “As healer, it is my responsibility to see to Starclan’s will. If this is how I must serve them, so be it.”

The leader watched Yellowfang with a scrutinizing gaze. At last, she nodded slowly. “Very well. So long as no undue burdens are placed upon my warriors, I see no reason not to imprison him. Being held captive by such weak mousehearts will surely be punishment enough for this rogue for whatever lifetime Starclan grants him.” She gazed down on the exile, her whiskers twitching in amusement as she threw his words back at him. “One-eye, show Yellowfang to the foxhole. Tigerclaw, I expect that there should now be two cats on guard duty at all times, with one being posted next to the prison.” 

The large tabby nodded slowly to the leader as One-eye began showing Yellowfang across camp, towards the apprentices’ den. “It will be done.” He mewed, though the irritation in his voice and his twitching tail tip indicated he still wasn’t quite pleased with this plan.

“What about the rest of Brokentail’s exiles?” Bluestar asked as she looked back to the rest of the patrol. “Longtail told me that they had been driven out. Do you think they will return?”

“It’s possible. None were killed in the attack.” Mousefur mewed as she stepped forward. “But I don’t think they will be so eager to attack us, especially not without their leader. I doubt we’ll be seeing them for many moons.”

“Make sure there’s a regular patrol along the Twolegplace border, as well.” The leader instructed Tigerclaw once the dusky brown molly had finished speaking. “Once a day will be enough - just to make sure that Brokentail’s rogues don’t find their way into our territory.”

“They were already hunting within our territory. We found crowfood near their nest, and one of them mentioned bringing back prey from our territory before the fight.” Mousefur mewed with a nod to Fireheart. “Fireheart and Longtail were right. Brokentail was already a threat, we just hadn’t realized it yet.”

“I see. I’m glad we acted quickly, then.” Bluestar mewed appreciatively. “You all will have to tell the other Clans of the battle at the next Gathering.” Fireheart perked his ears at that. She was already guaranteeing that he would get to go to the Gathering? The others would be thrilled to hear it. He started to get to his feet when the silver queen spoke again. “Though you could perhaps leave out the part about Brokentail himself.”

“Why?” Dustleap challenged brashly, his tail still lashing. “You’re not ashamed of taking in that old fleabag, are you?”

“No. I trust my healer’s word.” Bluestar replied, her gaze unwavering as she looked on at the reckless tabby warrior. “But mention of him will surely open old wounds. There is no reason to bring it up needlessly. If any cat asks, he died under that Monster’s paws.”

Dustleap sneered at that, but Fireheart nodded in understanding. Even with Yellowfang, the topic of the old Shadowclan tyrant seemed raw. He couldn’t imagine how it would be for Windclan, who lost their home to his greedy claws, or Shadowclan, who suffered cruelly underneath his leadership. She was right: it was best to leave the topic be.

The cats surrounding her began to disperse across the clearing. Fireheart watched as Cinderpaw bolted for the healer’s den - checking on her mentor, he realized guiltily. He had nearly forgotten about her in all that had happened after the battle. He was about to follow the gray apprentice when he stiffened and glanced back to Bluestar. “Has Graystripe returned from hunting yet?” He asked curiously.

She glanced at him, a small frown crossing her silvery muzzle. “He has not.” She admitted. “Why?”

He frowned at her response. It was unusual for any warrior to be out all day, but perhaps Graystripe had lost track of the sun. “You said you wanted two cats on guard duty. I was supposed to be the second, but then there was the battle.” Tigerclaw narrowed his amber eyes, and he added quickly, “I just wanted to offer to guard Brokentail first, at least until Tigerclaw assigns the night vigils.”

The deputy’s gaze stayed narrow, but Bluestar smiled in delight. “Of course, Fireheart. I appreciate the dedication. The Clan needs that more than ever these days.” She sighed softly as her blue eyes drifted across his pelt, torn from both the battle and the rose bush he had chased Brokentail through. “But you must see Yellowfang and Dewpaw afterwards. I can’t risk your wounds getting infected now that leafbare is here.”

“Of course.” He mewed with a dip of his head, taking the opportunity to dismiss himself. He crossed camp towards the ferns of the apprentices’ den that he had seen One-eye take Yellowfang. He paused by it, glancing around in confusion. She had mentioned a foxhole, but he had never seen one near their old den. 

“Looking for the prison?” He jumped as One-eye seemed to materialize beside him. “It’s over there, just behind the warriors’ den.” She pointed with a paw, and he followed it to see an almost-hidden hole in the ground. Long grass and a few tree shoots surrounded it; if she hadn’t pointed it out, he would have never seen it. “Well hidden, of course. We couldn’t have any enemies sneaking in to free their friends.”

“Thank you.” He mewed, trotting over. The hole was small, only big enough for a young apprentice to fit through comfortably. Tigerclaw, Lionheart and Whitestorm would never be able to fit in on their own. Then, he supposed, perhaps that was a good thing for Brokentail - it meant that the more murderous members of the Clan wouldn’t enact their own justice on him.

He threw back his shoulders and started to squeeze his way in. He didn’t need to see the inside, really, but he was curious. It was evidently very rare for Thunderclan to take prisoners, and he didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity like this.

The inside was almost black, and even though he couldn’t see, he could feel with his whiskers how cramped it was. He blinked slowly, trying to let his eyes adjust, when he heard soft murmuring. As the space slowly came into focus, he could see Yellowfang and Brokentail laying in a shallow groove in the dirt. The healer was gently lapping at the exile’s head with her eyes closed, just like he had when he had been comforting Princess.

“Yellowfang!” He hissed in surprise. “What are you doing?”

The old molly startled at his voice, opening her eyes to see him standing in front of them. “Fireheart!” She gasped, clearly also shocked to see him. “What are you doing in here?”

“I was going to guard Brokentail.” He scowled at the kit-killer. Even though he had volunteered for it, that didn’t mean he liked the rogue any more than Dustleap seemed to. “What in Starclan’s name were you doing to him? Were you comforting him?”

The healer stared at him with wide eyes, as though she hadn’t processed what he said at all. Then her shoulders sagged and her gaze dropped to the floor. “I was.” 

“Why?” Fireheart asked in confusion. She hated the tyrant that had exiled her, didn’t she? Surely his comfort would be the last thing on his mind. He shook his head slowly in disbelief. “He doesn’t deserve that.”

Her gaze slowly turned to the mangled tabby beside her, her eyes drifting across his still form. She watched as his flank slowly and steadily rose and fell. He was sleeping, the ginger tom realized after a moment. “Because he’s my son.”

Fireheart blinked at her, not sure if he had heard her right. “Your son?” He echoed dimly as he stared at her. “But I thought healers weren’t allowed to have kits.”

“We aren’t.” Yellowfang sighed as she watched the tabby tom breathing, her eyes filled with a fondness he hadn’t seen from her before. “I was young, and foolish. I was in love with his father - Raggedstar. We were leader and healer, then, and I believed that there was nothing that could stop us.” Her copper gaze then clouded with grief. “I was wrong.”

Fireheart glanced behind him. No cat was going to sneak up on them, at least for the time being, so he slowly sat down. He owed it to Yellowfang, at least, to hear her out. “What happened?”

“I had three.” She mewed softly. “The first two were stillborn mollies. I named the first one Hopekit, after the hope I had that the rest would live. I named the second Wishkit, after the wish I had that they would forgive me in Starclan for breaking the code. The third…” Fireheart glanced at the exile before him. “Brokenkit, after the broken heart I had realizing I could never raise him as his mother.”

She looked back up to the Thunderclan warrior, her eyes watering. “I knew then that I had betrayed Starclan by taking a mate and kits, and that they were punishing me for my insolence. I thought that Hopekit and Wishkit’s deaths were the curse they had given me.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “But now I know I was wrong. My punishment was not that my daughters died. It’s that my son lived!”

Brokentail didn’t startle out of his sleep, still slumbering soundly despite the howling of the queen beside him. “Does he know? That you’re his mother, I mean?” 

“No.” She opened her eyes and gazed back down at her tabby son. “I buried Hopekit and Wishkit where they were born, and took Brokenkit back to Raggedstar. He was surprised at my change of mind, but agreed to have one of the queens nurse him instead.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “One jumped at the chance to nurse Raggedstar’s son. She raised Brokentail like he was her own. He likely still believes she was his birth mother.”

She sighed wistfully at the memories. “I recommitted myself to my duties as a healer. No one but my mentor ever suspected that I was Brokentail’s birth mother, and I was able to move on with my life. But Starclan never forgot, and they certainly never forgave.” The healer’s paws shuffled shamefully in the soil. “Ever since his birth, I have been unable to speak to them. Thankfully, I have always had an apprentice there to interpret their will for me, but it is a constant reminder that I have broken our sacred code.” 

He watched her carefully. “You said that you knew that my sister was in a hard position, and that you couldn’t leave her in distress. Is- is this why you agreed to help her?”

Yellowfang nodded slowly in response. “My mentor taught me those secrets I mentioned when I was a half-moon away from kitting. I think she knew, even if she didn’t say it out loud.” She sighed once more. “Sometimes I wonder if she looks down on me from Starclan even now, still disappointed in me for not following the healer code. I abandoned my old self completely - my love, my kits, my name - yet still, my shame follows me.”

He perked his ears in surprise as she spoke. “Your name? You had a different name?”

She snorted. “What, did you think I was born Yellowkit?” The grizzled healer’s whiskers twitched in amusement at his question. “My mother may have been a bit mad, but she wasn’t blind. I had a name to match the rest of my siblings’, once.” She looked away, her smile fading after a few heartbeats. “But that name was given to me by Starclan. In abandoning them, I abandoned that name. Raggedstar gave me my new name, just after Brokenkit was born. There aren’t many in the Clans who remember my old name, now.”

He recalled the joke Graystripe had made on the way to a Gathering with him a couple of moons ago. “I guess I didn’t really think about it.” He finally mewed. “What was it, if I may ask?” 

The melancholy molly shook her head slowly. “No. Like I said, that name is no longer my own. Starclan has made it clear I no longer deserve it.” The dark gray queen sighed as she looked down on her son, her gaze filled with heartache that spoke more words than she could ever say. “Just like he is no longer my son. It is only in these secret moments, when no one is watching, that I even dare to think about what life might have been.”

The elderly healer finally looked back up to him, her sorrowful copper gaze meeting his emerald eyes. “I understand if you cannot forgive me. I don’t know if I would either, in your position.” 

Her form seemed to shrink before him, until she looked nearly as small as a new apprentice. He looked between her and Brokentail - her son, the cat she loved despite all that he had done, cared for unconditionally. He understood now why she had defended him so desperately; what mother would willfully send her son to his death? And even knowing all the atrocious acts that the tabby had committed, knowing that he only still lived because of Yellowfang, Fireheart couldn’t find it in himself to blame her.

“I’ll forgive you.” He declared at last. “But only on one condition.”

Her eyes glittered in what little light remained. “Speak your mind.” She replied wearily, as though already resigned to him extorting her.

“You forgive me for breaking your leg.”

They stared at each other for several moments. He wondered if perhaps she was thinking it over, but then she began convulsing, letting out a growl in between each shaky breath. “Yellowfang?” He mewed in concern for the old molly, stepping closer in the small cave.

“Oh, Fireheart.” She wheezed in between growls, and after a heartbeat he realized she’d been laughing. “I forgave you for that many moons ago.”

“Then I forgive you.” He mewed simply, leaning over Brokentail to touch his nose to hers affectionately. “Cats aren’t just their parents. I am not the kittypet my mother and father were. Brokentail is not Raggedstar or you. I wouldn’t thank him for your actions, just like I won’t blame you for his.”

Her laughter finally ceased, and she slowly looked up to fix him with a steady copper gaze. “You have more wisdom than some elders I’ve known, Fireheart.” Yellowfang murmured softly, finally standing up and moving away from Brokentail’s body. “Thank you. It feels good to have told another cat the truth.” She hesitated and looked back at her son briefly. “It… it may be selfish of me to ask, but would you keep this between us? Even though I can no longer speak with Starclan, I still enjoy my role as the Clan’s healer. I don’t want to give it up for anything.”

Fireheart stared at her in confusion. “Why would you have to give it up if other cats knew? Brokentail being your son has nothing to do with your skill as a healer.”

She chuffed as though he’d said something funny, but he could see tears welling in her eyes. “If only other warriors thought as you did.” She sighed and glanced down at her paws. “By taking a mate and having kits, I broke Starclan’s code. I could be exiled, if Bluestar so chose. At best, I would likely be forced to retire to the elders’ den. I may be old, but I still have some life left in me, I should think.”

The ginger warrior pressed himself against her, giving her a reassuring purr. “You’ve kept my secret, I see no reason why I shouldn’t keep yours. Besides, Dewpaw still needs a mentor, and it would tear her up to have her second mentor taken from her in as many moons.” He wondered what the spotted molly would think if she learned of Yellowfang’s secret; she had always been ready to recite the healer code, but he had no doubt that she loved the grumpy old healer as well. 

“Dewpaw…” The grizzled gray molly hesitated at the mention of her apprentice’s name. “Do you think I should tell her the truth as well? I never told Wetnose, but… perhaps she deserves to know.”

He wasn’t sure how to answer that. He didn’t see the issue, but then, he wasn’t a healer. “I think you should trust your own judgement on that. Dewpaw’s an understanding cat. If you think she needs to know, then I’m sure she would be willing to keep your secret.” He blinked as the thought of the healer’s apprentice suddenly reminded him of what had happened after the battle. “You should go see her, though, and help her with Mistspring. Besides, I’m supposed to be outside, guarding Brokentail.” Even as he said that, he glanced back at the sleeping form. It wasn’t like there was much to guard right now.

“I already did what I could to help Mistspring. Whatever happens, she’s in Starclan’s paws now.” Still, the healer moved towards the crevice that led outside, before glancing back at the two toms. “Brokentail won’t be moving for a while. I gave him some poppy seeds to help ease the pain, and they’ll likely keep him sleeping through the night. You should come with me, so I can see to those injuries of yours.”

Fireheart hesitated, glancing back. While he trusted Yellowfang’s assessment, he had still promised Bluestar that he would guard the prison. “Can I come see you after I’m done? I don’t want to disappoint Bluestar.”

The old queen rolled her eyes at his words. “I’ll bring the herbs to you. You’ll be sitting outside?” He nodded quickly in response. “Fine, then.” She pushed her way through the entrance, her bulky Shadowclan frame loosing some of the dirt as she went through.

The warrior gave one last glance at the almost peaceful form of Brokentail before following her. It would be strange, having the former tyrant in camp, but some part of him was glad the tom had survived the Monster. Especially now that he knew the truth about his parentage. Even if Yellowfang might deny it, it was clear she still had affection for the broken tom. 

He shook his head briefly to rid himself of the thought. It wasn’t his concern, anymore. As far as he cared, Brokentail was just a prisoner. He left the foxhole quickly, leaving the dark tabby to the shadows where he belonged.

[justoneofthoseghosts]

Brettsey and “You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise.” 

This prompt looked interesting!

Okay, honestly, this one was a bit challenging 😅 but hey, I tried my best.

Matt shuffles Julia in his arms as he makes an attempt to grab her bottle from the kitchen table. She coos softly, resting her cheek against his chest. He grins down at her. He loved how she did that every so often, like she liked listening to his heartbeat. He kisses the top of her head earning another soft coo followed by some drool on his shirt.

He glances down at the baby again resisting a groan. He had just changed an hour ago since Julia decided to fling some mashed sweet potato at him during breakfast.

Julia looks up at him with her big, blue eyes and he melts. He could never be mad at her - she was his sweet Julia, light of his life and one of the best things to have ever happened to him.

As he grabs hold of the bottle, his eyes catch something else on the table. It's a letter with the CFD logo on the upper right side. His curiosity gets the better of him. He rearranges Julia again in his arms before taking a seat. He reads the letter slowly while feeding the baby her milk.

For a second, he feels guilty but it wasn't snooping if it was lying there out in the open, right?

His eyebrows shoot up as he continues to read. It's a commendation letter for Sylvie for kickstarting Paramedicine. It mentioned she was going to be honored at the CFD gala in two weeks. He smiles. It was a long overdue recognition in his opinion. Sylvie's program has done wonders for the city of Chicago by making sure CFD paramedics were directed to emergencies while still providing care to other residents with non-life threatening emergencies. It amazed him on a near daily basis, even more so when he decided to ride along with her for a shift. He really felt how many people Sylvie helped out and saved.

"Your mom's a brilliant woman, Jules," he whispers at the baby.

She blinks up at him, one hand still on her half empty bottle.

He grins at her, looking up as the door clicks open.

"Hey," Sylvie greets, smiling warmly at Matt and Julia when she spots them in the kitchen.

She had a bag of groceries in her arms, beginning to explain how she got some banana and strawberries they could make Julia try since she recently started on solids.

He raises an eyebrow at her. Clearly, she wasn't going to tell him about the commendation. Come to think of it, she didn't even mention it when he asked last night if she wanted him to take anything to the dry cleaners in time for the event.

"What?" she questions at the strange look on his face.

"You're getting a commendation, Sylvie," he tells her, pointing to the letter, "we should go out and celebrate."

She laughs, shrugging it off, "oh that - it's not a big deal. You know how I hate being the center of attention."

He truly did.

They were alike in that sense. Both of them did their jobs because they loved it not because they were chasing after recognition and awards. They kept their heads down and did the work but Sylvie deserved to be celebrated. An idea forms in his head. He'll probably have a lot of help planning and executing it but thankfully, he could still count on his 51 family. Ben and Griffin were definitely going to help too.

He gets up just as Julia finishes her bottle. He re-places it on the table, cradling Julia close before walking over to Sylvie.

"Okay - nothing big then," he proposes, "maybe dinner one of these days?"

She smiles at him, leaning close to kiss Julia on the cheek.

"Sure," she agrees, "dinner sounds wonderful."

---

A lot of coordination goes into planning Sylvie's big celebration. Herrmann and Mouch agree to have it at Molly's. All of Sylvie's close friends were coming and more importantly, her parents. He called them the day after he found the letter, explaining how Sylvie was getting this big award. They laughed when he told him how she didn't want a huge celebration, saying it sounded exactly like their daughter. They would be flying in from Indiana, eager to spend more time with the whole family, especially with little Julia.

He had it all accounted for, even making a spreadsheet like the one Sylvie had for their wedding. He kind of understood why she liked them so much but hoped he rarely needed to bust them out ever. They were more of her thing anyway.

What he didn't expect would be a challenge was getting Sylvie to Molly's. They were there most of their nights off but tonight, Sylvie seemed to want to stay at home, cuddling on the couch with Julia while watching an old rom com she loved.

He lets out of breath, thinking of an excuse, any excuse really for them to go. He already arranged for Griffin to take Sylvie's car fitted with the car seat to bring Julia to Molly's after they left. He grumbles when he gets a text from Stella asking where they were, clenching and unclenching his fist.

"What's going on, Matt?" Sylvie asks, having tuned into his anxious energy.

He sighs. He really wants to keep it a secret but all of it was going down the drain if he didn't get her to the bar fast.

Screw it. Some things were meant to be spoiled. It’s for the best.

"Everyone's waiting for us at Molly's."

She raises an eyebrow, "what do you mean?"

"I planned something for you tonight to celebrate your award," he admits.

"Matt -" she begins, eyes going wide, face reddening.

It didn't look like she was angry, maybe more embarrassed that he made a really big deal out of her award. He sees her expression change to one of surprise then wonder.

"You say you hate it but your red face is telling me otherwise," he starts out hopefully. "I just really wanted this chance to celebrate you and all the good things you've done for this city. I hope you're not mad."

She smiles at him before biting down on her lower lip, "I'm not mad."

"No?"

She shakes her head, "it's incredibly sweet of you to do that - unnecessary but incredibly sweet."

He walks over to her, sitting close to her on the couch, "it is always necessary to celebrate you. In fact, we should make that a rule - celebrations are mandatory in this family."

He tickles Julia, "am I right, munchkin?"

Julia giggles happily. He beams.

"She agrees with me," he says proudly.

She lets out a tinkling laugh, shaking her head again.

"I love you," she tells him.

He smiles widely. There was a time when he thought he'd never hear her say that to him ever again. He savors it every time she tells him this, always saying it back.

"I love you too."

He leans in to place a soft kiss on her lips before taking Julia from her.

"Come on, Jules - we need to get ready for Mommy's big party," he says as the baby coos.

Sylvie smiles at him, pinching the baby's cheek lightly, earning a squeal from Julia.

He glances back towards her, "can I ask that you act surprised later? They all put in a lot of effort."

"I can try," she tells him, "but I'm not a very good actress."

They both burst out laughing. It was true but Matt didn't think anyone would notice anyway. He didn't tell her that her parents were coming too so there was still some element of surprise left in the night, one he hopes would be a special and memorable one for Sylvie.

[trashbag-baby666]

Lose It-Hunter Sylvester

Disclaimer: Song used in the Drabble is Lose It by SWMRS. I no long support them but the song bops a little. Got this idea for it after an intense listen to it!

C/W: mentions of cheating/sleeping with other girls.

Hunter had fucked up and there was no going back.

He had slept with a few girls that meant nothing to him and he wasn't sure why. The band had gone on a small tour of Oregon and Hunter let the obsessed girls get ahold of him.

Of course you found out fast, Emily and Hunter were your ride or dies.

Your band of girls were not having it and you weren't going to take it.

You were upset and angry going through the five stages of grief over and over. For what seemed like forever but had been more like four hours.

So, what did you turn to? Your guitar and notebook.

You wrote out your feelings as you decided that you couldn't forgive him for what happened.

You had talked to Emily and Kevin when they got back and they supported your decisions.

Hunter was pissed when you showed up at his door and gave him his stuff back and told him it was over.

But he wasn't pissed at you. He was pissed at himself. This was his fault and he knew it.

"Fuck him," Emily nodded as she read over the song you had written. Both of you needed a well needed hang out session. The session before your high school hosted a local music show.

Your band, y/b/n, we're playing and so was Skullflower.

"Do you think I should play it?" You looked up at Emily.

"Yeah, I think he deserves to have to be put in his place. Plus it's a good song none the less, y/n." Emily nodded and handed you back the tattered notebook.

"Thank you so much for coming over and just talking." You hugged Emily as you made your decision to play it.

You and your band had practiced the new song plenty of times. As you stood side stage as Molly Coddle played. You guys were up next, you'd warn your favorite outfit and shifted your weight on your new docs your mom had gifted you.

"Ready, y/n?" Your bassist came over resting her hand on your shoulder momentarily. You nodded as Molly Coddle finished up and packed up your gear and you guys began to set up.

Then it was time, the stage lights flickered on and the band did a small introduction. You spotted Hunter quick. Standing off towards your guitarist more with Kevin and Emily.

His arms crossed as he looked like a kicked puppy. He loved watching you perform and you knew that.

"Tonight is a night for a new song." You smiled awkwardly flicking the long mic cable as you held the mic, "This one is called Lose it." You smiled as your band came in playing the mellow melody.

"When I first saw you, I made a mixtape

I didn't know you'd do the same damn thing

When I said goodbye to you, it went quiet

'Cause I didn't wanna feel any pain"

It was true you and Hunter were both music critiques and buffs. You both loved everything music. You liked a lot of metal but more indie rock being your style and Hunter could respect that. You had made him a mixtape on a CD and he made you a playlist.

You turned to music the night Emily texted you saying Hunter was sleeping with a fan.

You couldn't listen to any of it. It all reminded you of Hunter. All you were left with was silence and your tears.

"The last thing I want is another debutante

To take me away from my world (take me away from my world)

And I know that wasn't us, but it still got tough

So come on, come on

And tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

When we drove up the coast, we had a soundtrack

We made it feel like a film on a reel

And our story didn't have a happy ending

But it still sounded good despite the way I feel"

You guys fell for each other fast and you dragged Hunter on a road trip to the coast to your aunts cabin so it could be just you two for a weekend.

You guys had made a collaborative playlist on Spotify and it really seemed like a teen coming of age movie. It was one of your happiest memories of Hunter.

"The last thing I want is another broken heart

To drive me to the brink of crazy (drive me to the brink of crazy)

In the end, I couldn't take it 'cause I knew we wouldn't make it

So come on, come on

And tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it"

Hunter stood in the crowd watching you softly sway your hips to the soft beat. He knew it was about him. Hell, almost everyone in the room knew it was about him. The schools 'loser couple'. You had only a few friends being your band mates and then Kevin and Emily.

Hunter knew he had fucked up so bad the moment after the girls would leave him and he'd see the texts from you on his phone. Every time he did it and he still continued to do it.

He deserved this, he was humiliated but he also deserved this humiliation. Clay had even shared some glanced and head nods towards Hunter as the song went on.

"In the end, we were just a couple kids

Who thought and fought our way around each other

There's a mark on the town the times we had around

But there's still some space for the rest of our lives

Sing it

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

Tell me, why'd you have to have such a damn good taste in music?

Ya, if all my favorite songs make me think of you, I'm gonna lose it

I'm gonna lose it

I'm gonna lose it"

You finished and said thank you to the crowd as you packed up. Maybe this wasn't the official end of you and Hunter but just the end for now. Maybe he just needed time to grow as a person. To recognize the beauty he had standing right in front of him, waiting for him.

You were hopping that the wake up call of the song would be enough for him to change his inflated ego.

[beecreeper]

Well I gotta do some asks for my favorite color! For the Baldur's Gate crew

🌻

🍯

🐝

🌞

🍋

✨

Damn this took me literally all day to write wtf

✨ and 🍯 answered here. The rest under the cut!

🌻 (sunflower) - What’s something your character has grown out of? Did it happen gradually or was it a drastic change? What caused this shift?

Briar -- Attempting to care about people/form relationships. She *did* try to, especially when she was in her druid circle. But it never really worked. There always felt like there was something separating her from other people. She burned that bridge all at once when she murdered her circle and embraced Bhaal.

Ferox -- Honestly used to be a more chaotic when he was a kid with his goblin family. Was more enthusiastic about pulling the kind of goblin shenanigans with his siblings that you can imagine goblin kids get up to. But at he got old, his urge started to manifest more strongly, raising the stakes and consequences. It gets a lot less fun to play "let's see who can hit each other with a stick the hardest" when you black out and accidentally beat one of them to a pulp, you know? He also started to feel worse about how goblin society worked in general and how violent it all was. By the time he reached like 15 or 16 he was in full brooding "I don't want to be like this anymore..." mode.

Molli -- Molli hasn't grown out of SHIT. She got captured in her early twenties and is free for the first time in like seven or eight years. In many ways she behaves like a college student moving out of their parents house for the first time. She's also always been the kind of person who enjoyed childish things well into her adulthood. And honestly! Good for her! Be a immature and silly forever Molli you fucking deserve it.

🐝 (bumblebee) - What are some reasons someone would dislike or not get along with your oc? Are these negative traits something your oc is aware of?

Briar -- stinky, evil, a complete crazy bitch. She is aware but doesn't care. If you don't like her that's a you problem.

Ferox -- too stoic and in his own head, stewing in his guilt too much, kinda a stick in the mud. These aren't the parts of himself that he feels bad about though he's mostly dwelling on, you know, the uncontrollable bloodlust.

Molli -- annoying, naive, weak, incompetent, worried about everything including all these negative qualities and like a bunch more she made up

☀️ (sun) - What’s your character like at their best?

Briar -- well.... I mean from *her* perspective her best was her peak cult days. Fully confident, powerful, no worries about anything, doing anything she wants, on her way to ruling the world and having a great fucking time with it. But I don't know of there's a version of her that any sane person would call "good". Like. Her "best" ending is secluding herself in the woods and only killing people if they accidentally find into her rather than her actively seeking them out.

Ferox -- At his best he's hard working and dedicated and extremely competent at what he does. Helpful and feeling good about himself for doing something positive. Secure in himself and *not* considering himself an uncomfortable irredeemable monster (he'll get there eventually)

Molli -- Cheerful ray of sunshine type shit, playing her concertina for people, wanting to experience new things and not worrying about whether she's good enough.

🍋 (lemon) - What’s something your character never got over, if anything? Why did it affect them so much and is there any chance of them ever healing from it?

Briar -- Depends on how you define "got over". If you asked Briar, she would say that nothing from her past affects her at all and she never thinks about it ever. But like. Obviously it affects her. Her foster parents were super creeped out by her and totally emotionally distant and the only kinda friend she had she drowned on impulse. Really set a precedent that she cannot and will not be able to connect to people and it informs a LOT of her behavior.

On a related note she never got over realizing she DOES care for Gortash but she only had like a week at most to deal with that before her brain was scrambled lol. Problem solved!

Ferox -- MYRALA MYRALA MYRALA It manages to even haunt him post-tadpole because the oathbreaker knight is still at camping reminding him that he did SOMETHING to break his oath but won't tell him what and he reasonably assumes it has something to do with that urge for slaughter he feels in his blood. Honestly I think the only reason he's gonna be able to heal at all is because he can't remember it specifically anymore. But it still hurts and he's got all the *other* Bhaalspawn baggage to work through as well.

Molli -- I mean. Being a slave to a guy who would beat her for fun. And her good and bad endings are differentiated by how well she deals with it. On one hand, she falls into a fawn response codependent pattern and locks herself into more abuse. On the other hand, she finds joy in freedom and strength in her friends and herself. And also kills her old abuser that probably helps.

[siena-sevenwits]

Blogging The Last Unicorn, Chapters 2-3 (reread)

I skipped the opening chapter and will return to it once I’m properly into the story – that first chapter always gets in the way of my rereading.

Oh, I love, love Peter S. Beagle’s lyrical prose and overly thoughtful dialogue. It’s a matter of taste, for sure, but every page is just a little gemmed casket of gleaming lines, and I love it. And the sheer sense of atmosphere!

I remember when I first read this book wondering whether the young Peter Beagle was terrified of old age, weakness, and what some perceive as ugliness. I gathered this particularly from the scene where the Unicorn hears Elli sing the song of old age, and she’s filled with more horror than almost anything in the story (and this is echoed by what happens to her later in the book.) And there are other ways this is touched on throughout the tale. But on reread I see much more appreciation for the gift of growing old too. In fact, it’s considered a curse that one character is physically stuck in his twenties, and a grace when that curse is lifted. And though Molly is angry and broken hearted that the Unicorn didn’t come to her in the innocence of her youth but instead found her in her middle age, full of cares, Molly ultimately finds the greatest joys and meaning in her life at this later age. She is even called beautiful, I think. But I’m getting ahead of the story.  

It seems to me that it is right that the unicorn should find old age and death horrifying, for she was created to be immortal, and is fulfilling her nature. Whereas the humans, who were created mortal, fear aging but ultimately embrace it, and thus learn to fulfill their natures.

It’s Chapter Two, and Schmendrick is with us! One of the two best characters in the book! I am amazed how many sides of his character are actually seen within the first few chapters, though they might be more evident on reread.

I love books that strike me as faintly (or strongly) allegorical by turns, but which are so multi-faceted that nothing in the story can really function as a simple, easily translatable symbol. The parallels are always shifting. We can see profound thoughts in the work if we interpret Schmendrick now as a type of the frustrated creative writer, and now as the soul encountering the divine for the first time, and now as a double sided coin of youth and old age. But he’s not a cardboard character, and any allegorical reading ceases to work if you try to apply it to the whole story. In that respect this book is a little like Tolkien’s work – extremely applicable by various lights, but impossible to draw up a table of who symbolizes what. I suppose that is the kind of story our own lives are.

Speaking of Schmendrick the creative artist, this analogy means a lot to me and makes the part where he tries to open the cage dear to me. I love that he had the keys the whole time but wanted it to be the beautiful spell that got her free.

“You deserve the services of a great wizard, but I’m afraid you’ll have to be glad of the aid of a second-rate pickpocket,” is a dear line to me.

Mommy Fortuna knows Schmendrick and the Unicorn have been conspiring, and probably that they mean to escape, but she seems no more worried about it than she does about the harpy getting free. Is it for the same reason? That she held them captive once and they will always remember it, and that’s her immortality? Or some other reason? Also, the lock speaks in Mommy Fortuna’s voice when Schemndrick steals the key and tries to open the cage.

I love that the string of threats, “YOU BARBED WIRE! YOU PILE OF STONES! […] I’LL CHANGE YOUR HEART INTO GREEN GRASS, AND ALL YOU LOVE INTO A SHEEP! I’LL TURN YOU INTO A BAD POET WITH DREAMS! I’LL SET ALL YOUR TOENAILS GROWING INWARD, YOU MESS WITH ME!” (capitals mine) is answered with, “What are you talking about? You can’t turn cream into butter. I never did like you. You give yourself airs, and you’re not very strong.”

“A bloodshot moon burst out of the clouds, and the unicorn saw her – swollen gold, her streaming hair kindling, the slow, cold wings shaking the cage.” I love it. Some people don’t, but I just love it. It’s indigo prose, not purple, so far as I am concerned. In another story, it might not work. But it does here.

On the whole this book is just masterful, but there are moments when Beagle feels just a little self indulgent in a way that calls attention to itself. The Unicorn telling Arachne, “It’s very attractive, but it’s not art,” on her way to free the Harpy from her cage feels this way to me. So does, “Have a taco,” (which we haven’t reached yet, but it’s one of the few things in this book I sort of hate, so it’s present in my mind.)