While we're on the topic of De-aging AU's I wanna talk about Jason and Damian if Jason was 14 again real quick.
Do you guys think that Damian looks at this version of Jason, so different from the version he knows, nothing like the person he was told Jason was, and feels uncomfortably seen?
Damian was always told that Jason died because he was reckless, because he disobeyed orders, he was fired as Robin and he got himself killed. A cautionary tale, not a threat to his position. He dismisses Jason because Bruce does, because Dick does, because sometimes even Babs and Alfred do.
That's not the kid that he's looking at now. This Jason is happy, and smart, and full of love that has not yet soured into grief. He hangs on Bruce's every word, trains until his hands bleed and his body gives out to perfect the moves Bruce teaches him. He looks at Bruce with stars in his eyes and he calls him dad.
And Damian can't help but think, that this is the perfect Robin. The perfect son. And if Jason - sweet, loving, strong, Jason - can be fired, can die and have his room locked away and his pictures torn down, can have his last memory as Robin be as A Good Soldier, how could the rest of them ever compete? What could Damian do to stand a chance?
Jason will never grow out of the shadow of Robin, like the rest of them did. As long as Bruce, and Dick, and Babs, and Alfred look at him and see a dead kid who came back wrong, he will never get to be anything else. He will not get to be looked at through who he is now without the shadow of a dead boy looming over him.
And the worst part? Jason is exactly the same person he was back then. Bitter, sure, angry, justifiably, but he is still the boy with too much love in his heart and righteous fury festering in his gut. He is exactly the same boy who threw himself in front of an explosion to save his mother.
(The lines between the mother that betrayed him and the father that disgraced him are so very blurred. Fire or blade or crowbars or fists it does not matter. It ends the same way it always does because Jason Todd always dies, in every universe, in every timeline, Jason dies and crawls out only to be killed again and again and again.)
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。EASY — KAVEH.
✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationship, slight hints to kaveh’s past (but no details), a word vomit of what i think it is to date kaveh bc he has stolen my whole heart soul and mind :,)
“good morning, sleepy head.” you press a soft kiss to the forehead on your chest, moving messy strands of hair with careful fingers. “we really should get up, you know.”
“no.”
“kaveh.”
“no,” comes his protest. he’s stubborn, doesn’t give in even when you pry the sheets off his bare back, feeling him shiver at the cool air as it meets his skin. and yet, you can’t help but soften your gaze as you stare down at him, cheek pressed against you as he sighs before drifting off again.
kaveh is easy to fall for.
he’s a gentle lover, sensitive and delicate around the corners. you find him in the warmth that coats your skin from the sun every morning, in the honey you taste on your lips when tea is ready on the counter before you leave, in the soft sheets that are always freshly washed and ready to lay on when you come back after a long day.
“we have lots to do—”
he groans, tightens his arms around you stubbornly. “it’s not time to wake up yet,” he huffs, digging his head deeper into you and making you giggle.
“maybe you shouldn’t have stayed up so late doing that project,” you poke the tip of his nose, watching as it crinkles at your touch.
and then you trace the apples of his cheeks, feel the familiar indents of his bones through the soft skin, familiarize yourself with every piece of him. kaveh is easy love, and difficult to forget. he’s the quiet voice tucked into your shoulder at night, the pair of shoes you know not to trip over at the door, the mess of tools that are still assorted in their own way on the table that you dare not touch, the pillow on the left side of the bed because that’s the side he prefers, the random sketches in corners of every paper around your home.
kaveh is easy to love, and you find him in every corner, look for him at every turn.
“i had a stroke of artistic inspiration,” he sniffs petulantly, “you wouldn’t understand.”
“oh, i see,” you nod seriously. he opens an eye, raises a brow unimpressed at your faux seriousness. “then of course, please disregard your sleep and health. all for the sake of inspiration.”
“hmph.” it’s indignant, the sound of defiance he makes, it makes you chuckle as your weave your fingers through his locks and scratch gently at his scalp. “i can sleep just fine if you’re not persistently ringing in my ear about waking up.”
“but i want breakfast,” you pout. “wake up.”
“breakfast can wait.” you feel his nose dig into your neck, and then the soft press of lips against your skin makes you melt against the sheets.
perhaps if it’s kaveh who requests, you’re inclined to relent.
“if you ever say i don’t favor you, i’ll burn your sketchbook,” you mumble. and still, even despite the slight grumble against your shoulder, you can’t help but smile brightly, turning your head and planting a kiss to the side of his head.
“how can you favor me if you interfere with my livelihood,” he mutters bitterly—but there’s really no bite to his words.
it’s endearing, the way he’s devoted to his career. it’s the first thing you learn about kaveh when you meet him one night—you watch in awed amusement as he rambles at the tavern about the lacking interior design in his drunken stupor. and then he’s there the next day too, drinking just as heavily as the night before—it makes you quirk a brow as you sit beside him.
drinking this often is not a good habit, you say to him. he glances at you, blinks a moment before he huffs.
well you would too if you had a roommate like mine, he starts—and you’re sure the entirety of the tavern can hear him as he spills his woes to you without even realizing.
kaveh is hard to miss from then on. you see him at the fresh fruit stands when you walk through the market, at the akademiya requesting (demanding) funding from the acting grand sage, at the fields smiling with the children as they play and he ruffles their hair.
he’s nervous when he asks you on your first date, stumbles over his words and rubs the back of his neck, but his smile is earnest and his eyes are kind. he’s clumsy as he takes you to dinner, trips over his own feet as he scrambles to hold the door open. he’s a few mora short, blushing and mortified as he pats his pockets for more, mumbling how he’s sure he’d had enough when you giggle and complete the bill. he’s talkative through the night, rambles about his job and his projects, tells you details you don’t understand but can’t help but catch every word. he’s a bit shy when you hold his hand as you walk home, coughs a bit too loud to hide the hitched breath in his throat. he’s inexperienced when he leans in to kiss you, missing your lips for the corner of your mouth instead and stuttering over his words as he tries to explain he’s never done this before.
and when he takes a deep breath, cupping your cheeks with both hands and looking at you with conviction like he’s now made his life’s purpose to kiss you properly, you know you love kaveh.
you know you love him—somewhere during the first date. maybe the first meet. definitely the first kiss.
because kaveh is easy to love, even if he doesn’t know it himself.
he’s easy to love through soft kisses under the sheets, easy to love through gleaming eyes and animated hands as he speaks, easy to love through those moments of doubt and festering guilt of the past, easy to love through that innocence that wants to see the world for all that’s good and never for what’s bad.
kaveh is easy to love. so you love him. unconditionally so, from when the sun meets the moon and over again. continuing the cycle, holding him in your arms and pressing your lips to the soft skin of his forehead. and maybe, one day, if you continue to love him as easily as you do, he’ll learn to love himself too, to see the way he deserves the tenderness you show him.
“—and just so you know, inspiration isn’t something you can elect to ignore. some artists go months, if not years without an ounce of—”
“i love you,” you interrupt his rambling, voice soft and breathless and seeping with affection that he’s not felt in so long, he pauses with wide eyes.
it’s not the first time you’ve said it, and it certainly won’t be the last, but it’ll never feel quite like this time.
“yeah,” he says shakily, clutching you tighter, “i love you too.”
and maybe one day, he hopes if he loves you hard enough himself, you’ll know you’re just as easy to love too.
your honor he’s my everything 🥹 please i would steal the moon and stars for him 🥹
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what's your opinion on whether or not canon zutara could have made sense to happen by the finale?? i can't decide if i would have preferred them getting together or just hints at it and then it's revealed in tlok that they got married (and ig the comics would include the story of them getting together then)
my stance has always been that the show should have ended with no canonical romantic relationships, or a hint of future zutara at best. we didn't need anything more than a quick, intimate scene where zuko and katara discuss their futures and promise to keep in touch, with maybe a lingering glance or two to foreshadow romantic feelings. no kiss or grand declarations necessary.
that being said, if a romantic relationship had to happen, zutara was both built up more and made more sense narratively than kat.aang and mai.ko. i wouldn't have liked a zutara kiss in the finale for many of the same reasons i didn't like the kat.aang one, but it would've at least been thematically fitting and consistent with the characterizations of everyone involved - unlike zuko ending up with someone who never underwent any of the growth he did, and katara entering a lifelong romantic relationship without even so much as a word to give us insight into her sudden change of heart.
the only way to really do justice to zutara would've been with book 4, allowing plenty of time for a proper slowburn friends-to-lovers arc, but the reason so many people ship them today is because their relationship at the end of the show is the perfect jumping-off point for a romance. canon didn't actually have to give us anything more - the seeds were all planted already, and the imagination of the fandom would've done the rest.
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it was not quite like a rot.
it felt just as slow, however. you knew the early signs should have been there since some time ago, yet you missed them and ignored them. it was also similar in the way that it was similar to dying.
but, it really was different.
when you saw a rot, it felt unpleasant. it could be sadness, it might be disgust. in this tale, you didn't exactly feel like that. when you realized it, you barely felt recognition for it.
when you realized you fell out of love with him, you merely stared emptily at the photo in front of you.
it felt cruel. because somewhere inside you, you still believed that he deserved a gentle, tender moment in his life after everything. you still wish that he would know a kindness that he understood enough to soothe every bitter unhappiness that was left inside there. because he, you know more than anyone, had tried his best to be gentle, to be good for you.
you knew it in the way he etched your name on his tongue, in the way he had softened many rough parts of him just to see you smile, and yet—
as the clouds continued to move, unveiling the blue sky, you knew that your time as "his" had come to an end. that day was peaceful. the sky and the world continued to move.
the night came and you decided to put an end to a story. seven hundred and fifty two days had passed, calmly and almost coldly, you offered him a quiet smile.
"hey, can we talk for bit?"
SAE, RIN, BAROU, reo, kaiser, WANDERER, DILUC, LEONA, azul, RIDDLE, malleus, IDIA, ruggie + your faves.
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