#but a lot of fans make it like Jimmy accepts the curse? or even acknowledges that it’s real. which bugs me a bit cuz No He Does Not | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jadekitty777 · 5 years

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Therapy Bird

Summary: The events in Argus might be over and done with, but when sleepless nights and arguments result in needing to console both his nieces, Qrow accepted that the problems left behind have only begun to fester.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 5.4k

AO3 Link: Therapy Bird

Notes: Dang, two stories in one week? Did the world explode or just my brain? In many ways this story is the opposite take on my Oz-centric one. But it’s also about family, emotional support and questioning morality. Have fun~!

Qrow awoke in a cold sweat, unsure if he had dreamed something awful or if he’d only been brought to consciousness by the headache jackhammering its way through his skull. Gingerly, he sat up, covering his eyes from the bits of light coming through the window in an effort to alleviate even a fraction of the discomfort, while his other hand reached out blindly for the nightstand.

He had grabbed his flask, uncapped it, and downed half of the whiskey into his stomach before he’d even fully realized what he’d done. All he could do is stare at it and his tremoring hand like they had betrayed him in the cruelest way.

Good job, Qrow. He thought bitterly. Twenty-four hours sober. Really earned that AA chip.

Ruby was going to be so disappointed.

(That notion only made sure the rest of the flask was emptied quicker.)

Groggily, he shuffled his way down the hall, hearing nothing but silence in the rooms he passed. He didn’t expect that anyone would be up at daybreak – so he was unpleasantly surprised to find Yang sitting on the couch, staring down at the floor blankly. He had to wonder how long she’d been like that.

“Morning firecracker.” He called.

She didn’t even raise her head to acknowledge him. “Morning.” She mumbled.

He shifted on his feet, debating what to do. When it came to raising the girls, Tai and he both had their strengths. His were generally in the ‘fun uncle’ category, such as keeping the pair entertained even on the dullest of days or making them laugh when they were feeling lousy. But the emotional connection, shit? Especially with Yang? No surprise that was all Tai’s forte. Especially when Qrow pretended his own set of ugly emotions didn’t exist 364 days out of the year.

He knew being the fun uncle probably wouldn’t work now, but he tried anyways. “Well, since we’re both up at the ass-crack of dawn, how about I make us coffee?”

“Sure.” Not even a chuckle.

Knowing that was probably the best he was getting right now, he strode over into the next room. Much like the rest of the house they’d been graciously provided with, the kitchen was so immaculately white that he was pretty sure the snow outside was getting jealous. It was also spotless and untouched. They’d all been drained coming in, no one having the energy to really explore. He was sure that would change quickly, once a half-dozen starving teenagers woke up and tried to band together to make breakfast. Hopefully, experience would remind Ren to kick Ruby and Weiss out before the two of them pretended they could make anything even as simple as pancakes. As he shuffled about the cupboards, locating all the necessary items he’d need for the coffee, he was quietly thankful that Jimmy was, if nothing else, a well-accommodating kind of guy.

James. Qrow sighed, setting one of the mugs down heavily, headache brewing anew as he thought about the General. Beyond the very short briefing of how they’d gotten into Atlas’ air space (Which came with a lot of stern lectures on how ‘stealing is wrong and do you know how much paperwork I’m going to have to submit to cover this up?’), not much else had been said or revealed last night. It wasn’t hard for James to believe their haggard group was too exhausted to go into details. He trusted them when they told him nothing was immediately pressing and that it could wait until morning. The most paranoid guy in all of Remnant trusted them, completely unaware of Oz’s cane hiding in the folds of Oscar’s coat or that the Relic of Knowledge was stuffed in the corner of Weiss’ luggage.

Shit was really going to hit the fan later today and Qrow wasn’t sure if he was ready for it.

The sputtering of the coffee maker tuned him back into the present and he pushed that issue aside for now. He poured the two cups once the pot had finished filling, adding sugar and cream to Yang’s and a shot of brandy to his, before heading back into the living room. Beyond pulling her feet onto the couch to cross them underneath her, she’d hardly moved. She accepted her cup with a quiet thanks.

Qrow settled down in the recliner adjacent to her, watching her stare into the mug, taking a sip of his own. “You doing alright?”

“Yeah. I’m just-” She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know.”

“Thinking about yesterday?” It was hard to miss her flinch as he said that. On the field, Qrow was an effective huntsman, always looking for the opponent’s weak spots and going in for the kill the moment the opportunity presented itself. He’d been told before that his method of talking to people often reflected that technique. Which he was pretty sure was Tai’s ‘old wiseman’ way of saying he had no tact.

Still, could he really be faulted when it got results?

Because Yang finally slumped and said, “I didn’t think I’d feel like this, you know? I knew being a huntress wasn’t going to be like the stories. There isn’t always going to be some magical speech to turn the bad guy around or some convenient cliff for them to fall over by mistake. I knew going out there to stop criminals meant one day I might have to… to kill someone. I thought, if I really had to do it, if I had absolutely no choice, then I’d feel awful about it. Or so guilty that I’d be praying someone would throw me in jail.”

He lent forward. “How do you feel?”

She laughed, a choked and bitter sound. “Relieved.” She finally looked at him, tears brimming in her eyes. “I killed him and I feel relieved. Doesn’t that make me a terrible person?”

He watched one tear escape, rolling down her cheek. “Of course it doesn’t Yang.” He set his own cup aside in favor of taking hers that was shaking so badly in her grasp it was spilling over the sides. Once he’d placed it beside his, he focused on her again. “If you didn’t do it first, then Adam was going to kill you. He was going to kill Blake. And he was going to go on to kill others. You stopping him here prevents a lot of other innocent lives from being lost. Or from him coming after you and Blake again.”

“I know… I know but, when I think about it, all it means to me is that I’m glad I survived.” She spit the word like a curse. “Doesn’t that make me-”

“-Like Raven?” Qrow finished for her, seeing how she recoiled. “No, because you’re a huntress, not a cold-blooded murderer.” He reached out, placing a hand on her knee. “And being a huntress means you have to stop people like Adam, no matter what it takes. Sure, we’ll put them behind bars if we can, save those we can, but when push comes to shove and our lives and others are on the line, faltering isn’t an option.”

She snuffled, wiping away her tears and nodding. As he drew back, she asked, “How did you feel? The first time you had to…?”

The memory resurfaced in a flash. He was almost able to believe he was really there with how clear some of the details were. Like the precise squelching sound of his sword being removed from the body. The exact tangy scent of blood mixing with wet mud. How he shook as sobs tore from his throat. The way Raven’s nails sharply dug into his shoulders when she hugged him, whispering over and over how he had to do it. This was survival.

It wouldn’t be the last time someone from the tribe would try to kill them; but the first would always be the most powerful, simply because the man who attempted it was the same one they’d once called father.

Qrow cleared his throat of the tightness that threaded there, picking up his coffee once more. “A lot like you, actually.” He felt the burn of the alcohol as it went down. “At least, at first. Once what I had done really set in, it messed me up something good.”

The shaking had returned. She clasped her hands together to hide it. “How did you get past it?”

“There isn’t any ‘getting past it’. There’s only two things you can do: Stop or go forward.” He tilted his head her way. “No shame in doing either one, but that’s a choice you gotta make.”

Yang nodded slowly, before getting to her feet. “Right.” She reached down, picking up her mug. “I think I’m gonna go lie down for a bit.” He watched her cross the room, only for her to pause, a shadow of her old spark there in her eyes. “Thanks Uncle Qrow.”

He smiled. “Anytime firecracker.”

Standing in front of a room full of kids silently staring him down, so silent he could hear each and every crack of the burning fire in the fireplace, brought back an alarming sense of déjà vu that Qrow found he did not like. At all.

It was Jaune who finally broke it, leaning forward, “You… you can’t be serious. You want us to lie? Not tell General Ironwood anything we found out?”

Blake’s ears turned back. “That doesn’t seem right.”

“Sure doesn’t.” Yang bit out angrily, scowling his way. “What happened to ‘We’re better than that’?”

Qrow exhaled slowly, trying to keep his own temper in check as he tried to formulate a response. Fortunately, he didn’t have to.

“Yeah because knowing has done us all such great favors.” Weiss said, sarcasm built so high in her tone that it was throwing its own shade

Ruby looked at her in shock, “Weiss-!”

“Tell me I’m wrong!” She challenged, ponytail snapping as she twisted to face her. After a few seconds of nothing, she waved a hand outward, gesturing at them all, “You don’t get it, because you don’t live here. But that? Out there?” She gestured to the large window where grey airships hovered in the sky like large, dark predators waiting to strike. “Atlas shouldn’t look like it’s preparing for a war!”

Well said, Mini Ice Queen. “Right.” Qrow said, pulling the attention back to himself. “And with Jimmy looking ready to shoot at the first person who sneezes wrong, perhaps a little delicacy wouldn’t kill us right now.”

“You really think the general will react that badly?” Ren asked, expression more thoughtful than antagonistic.

“Well I can guarantee he won’t be jumping for joy. I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve to know. He does. But, he already looks like hell as it is and with tensions this bad, it’s not a risk worth taking right now.” He replied, shifting his weight some as he swept his gaze along the room, gauging the rest of them and seeing the unease still weighing most of them. “James has always had trust issues. The whole shitshow at Beacon were partially because of those trust issues. Give him any more reason to believe those are valid and there’s no telling where his mind will go.”

That seemed to do the trick, mostly. No one was really happy, except maybe Weiss who didn’t really smile but at least appeared notably more relaxed. Jaune shifted from glaring at him to frowning at the floor. Ren and Nora glanced their leader’s way then at each other anxiously. Likewise, Blake was giving Yang the same look, but the other woman was so caught up in sneering into space she didn’t appear to notice it. Oscar sat in the recliner, turning the cane handle in his hand over and over, his head tilting in a familiar way that had Qrow’s eyes narrowing.

Before he could address it, his niece spoke up, voice sharp as her scythe.

“No.” Ruby’s hands curled into fists where they rested on her thighs, before she stood. “If we do this, then aren’t we doing things exactly the same way Professor Ozpin was? The way that wasn’t working?”

He floundered for something to say. Even his best advice meant nothing to this retaliatory, assertive version of his niece he kept being faced with. He found himself wishing Maria hadn’t left so early to get her eyes fixed, because he could really use the back up. Or, better yet, Tai. Though, there weren’t enough shooting stars in the whole goddamn galaxy to account for the amount of times he had wished Tai had been able to accompany him since this whole mess started.

At least, until the truth of it all came out. If Qrow thought he was a wreck, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how his best friend was going to handle this – if he would be able to at all. Learning that they all could have chosen another path had they just been given all the facts. That Raven or Summer or both might still be around had they just been given the choice…

The sickening thought only served to boil up the anger that had been shimmering for days now, turning his blood hot as he shouted, “Yeah, it isn’t working! But that’s the fucking thing! All of us; James, Glynda, team STRQ! We should have known the minute we were being recruited! Not twenty goddamned years later! For everything we were signing up to lose, for everything we did lose, we should have fucking known!”

His gaze landed on Oscar, trying to tear straight through him to the lurking soul hiding within. I know you’re listening, you bastard!

The boy quickly looked away.

Qrow had to fight the urge to punch something. Instead, he looked back to his niece, into knife-silver eyes that cut him with their compassion that bordered pitying. He took a steadying breath, continuing more calmly, “We didn’t fucking get that. And now, all of us have to deal with the fallout for revealing his secrets.” He sighed, feeling the weight of that pressing down on him. It was heavy. “So, it’s not a matter of if we should, it’s a matter of when. And I may be as insensitive as they come, but even I can tell ya this ain’t it.”

Ruby’s jaw tightened and he was almost certain she was readying another argument, but the slump in her shoulders came next. “…Alright. I don’t like it though.”

It was hard looking at her like that. As if he’d broken her spirit.

He averted his gaze. “Yeah. Me either kiddo.”

At dusk, hours after the meeting with James in which he’d spent a good deal of it lying through his teeth, Qrow found himself stretched out on one of the lavish couches placed inside the enclosed balcony attached off of the living room. The walls and ceiling were built entirely out of glass, making it easy to watch the fighter planes weaving and bobbing in dynamic practice maneuvers as they soared through the orange-colored sky. They looked uncannily like the albatrosses he used to watch in Patch as they dove over the water to catch fish.

Living on an island meant there really was no excuse not to go to the beach at every available opportunity, but he never minded. There was just something so relaxing about sitting back, listening to the ocean roar and watching the birds cycle lazily over the waves.

“Did you want to join them?” He could still hear Summer ask when she caught him staring one day. “You’d fit right in.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious.” Qrow snipped back, getting to his feet so he could help her sit down on the blanket he’d spread over the sand.

“Thank you.” She said, sounding out of breath as she placed a hand on her bulging stomach. With only two months left to go, she was starting to look like she’d stuffed a globe under her shirt – and acting like she carrying the weight of one too. “What a day.”

He spared a glance down the beach, spying Tai and Yang still working on their sandcastle, the little girl’s squeals audible from here as she slapped at the mud. “Too much for you?”

Summer sighed, leaning back on one hand. “I just don’t have the energy I used to. And she’s kicking up a storm today.” She rubbed a hand over the space where he assumed she was getting internally beat at. It seemed her appendix was today’s target practice. “She’s probably gonna be a fighter, just like her family.”

He turned back to his birds, watching one dive into the water. “You alright with that?”

“I think you misunderstand how kids work Qrow.” She laughed. “I don’t get to decide that. All I can do is be there when she needs me. But only she gets to choose what path she wants to take in life.”

The bird reemerged from the depths, a bass between its beak. It turned, gliding back for its nest hidden in the rocks where it no doubt had hungry chicks waiting. Qrow nudged Summer’s arm. “Yeah but, what if she wants to take over the world or something?”

He got shoved in return. “What kind of child do you think I’m raising? A Brother of Darkness spawn?”

“Hmmm.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked towards Tai meaningfully. “I always knew it was suspicious his name meant ‘dragon’.”

Her eyes rolled. “Pff. If anything he’d be the light dragon.”

“It’s just a cover up, meant to fool us all! It’s so genius. You’d never suspect it!” Qrow insisted, leaning in close and cupping a hand around his mouth, whispering conspiratorially, “Hurry! If we run now we might still make it!”

Summer chuckled, pushing his face away. “You’re the worst.”

He grinned. “And yet you still let me hang around.”

“Well, of course! Why turn down a free babysitter?”

Qrow gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. “Oh, flowerbud. I’m hurt and appalled. Is that all you see me as? Convenient free labor?”

“No, no!” She waggled a finger. “You’re also an excellent human shield.”

“Oh, I see how it is.” He carried on, really pouring in the theatrics now as he craned his neck back and placed the back of his hand against his forehead. “The truth, it pains me! I’m so unloved!”

“Uh, should I even ask?”

Qrow opened his eyes, looking up at Tai who stood before him, eyebrow arched questioningly. From her spot in her father’s arms, Yang was doing her best to mimic the expression.

Not about to break character, he called in mock horror, “Oh no the dragon of darkness has come for me!” He flopped over into the sand. “Goodbye cruel world!”

Summer laughed, which only got stronger when Yang also burst into vibrant giggles and clapped her chubby little hands. Still mildly confused but willing to play along, Tai said, “Well, now that Qrow’s died and we’ve all cheered about it, what say we get back home?”

“That sounds lovely. I’d like to put my feet up.” Summer looked towards her fallen teammate. “Ready to go-”

“-Qrow?”

Qrow’s eyes snapped open, looking straight up at the starry sky, before jerking up in his seat. When had he drifted off? He rubbed the back of his neck where a crick had formed, turning to look towards the doorway.

Ruby’s shadow stretched along the ground where it reflected from the light inside. It was hard to make out her expression when it was cast in darkness. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s fine.” He said groggily. “You need something?”

“Um, yeah. If you had a minute.” When he nodded, she closed the slider behind her and came over. He swung his legs off the couch to make room for her and she sat down heavily, falling back into the cushions with a loud sigh.

He studied her for a moment, better able to make out the troubled look on her face. “What’s on your mind?”

“I understand why we did but, I couldn’t stop asking myself if it was right, lying to General Ironwood like that. It just kept bothering me, and I couldn’t figure out why.” Ruby said, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Until I started to wonder if this is how Professor Ozpin felt, when he did this to people.” An argument rose and died in his throat as he watched the way her hands twisted into the sleeves of her blouse. “When he did this to you or dad… did he feel bad about, like I do? Or did he just stop caring?” Trembling overtook her jaw and shook her rising voice. “Then I thought, should that even matter? Why should his feelings mean anything when other people got hurt for it? But, then, how can I even be angry with him if I’m acting just like him? That’s not right, is it? I-”

“Whoa, whoa.” Qrow interrupted, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Slow down a sec, kiddo. You’re working yourself up too much.”

“S-Sorry.” She sniffed, rubbing at her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so upset about this.”

For the second time in one day, he desperately wished reverting back to his ‘fun uncle’ persona would solve all his niece’s problems and make everything right in the world like it once used to. But just like her sister, it wasn’t what Ruby wanted or needed.

So, Qrow steeled himself against the impact of what he was about to do, turning to her, “Maybe you’re not.”

She threw him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Ruby, you’ve always been a compassionate kid. After everything you saw Oz go through, you probably want to be sympathetic, but something in your head is holding you back.” He tapped his own temple. “A question that keeps nagging at you. One that’s making you angrier then you’ve probably ever been. ‘Course you feel conflicted. But no one can blame ya, you have a right to be mad. We all do.” As he spoke, his own anger surged, bleeding like poison into his tone as he hissed out, “Because if Oz had been honest with your mom, wouldn’t she still be here today?”

He knew he hit the nail right on the head with the way Ruby’s face twisted into grief, though she shook her head as if to deny it. “But that’s stupid too! I mean yeah, I thought about it but… but so what!? It’s not like I lost you or Yang or dad. I don’t even remember anything about mom! How can I be this upset over someone I never even knew? I-I-”

She crumbled before him, tears spilling anew, her broken sobs a heartbreaking noise that Qrow could barely bear listening to. He reached out, tugging her in and holding her tight, wishing that was enough to make the pain go away and knowing it never could be. “Sssh. It’s okay, it’s okay kiddo. You don’t have to reason it, you just have to let it hurt.”

His words only made her cry harder, her arms wrapping around him. He felt a tug at the back of his neck and he knew she was clutching at his cape.

Qrow could still recall when she used to do that all the time when she was small. Sometimes she’d be clinging so tight that when she was wearing nothing but socks, he could easily pull her along on the hardwood floors back home. More than once, when the girls would play hide and seek, she’d convince him to sit on the couch so she could squeeze in behind him and duck underneath it, leaving him to play innocent when Yang came looking for her. During their walks in the forest, when he’d let her sit on his shoulders, she’d pull the fabric up over herself, making grand claims about how it gave her super powers and she’d protect him now.

She’d go on and on about how his cape was her favorite thing in the world, to the point that when they were shopping in town, she’d go up to complete strangers and tell them so. One day, he finally asked her why.

He never forgot the way Ruby smiled, so large the little gaps from her missing teeth were visible, as she proudly declared, “’Cause you wear it Uncle Qrow!”

To her, it was nothing but a simple truth, said as innocent and pure as she herself was.

To him though, it was as if the world under his feet had shifted eternally. He’d always cared for his niece, but that little moment was what made something truly paternal swell in him. He’d felt so oddly empowered, almost believing he could have stormed the great nations and singlehandedly eliminated all the Grimm within them just to protect this one little life that suddenly meant everything to him.

It was a ridiculous notion, because as Qrow held Ruby now, he realized he was no more impressive than any other father whom eventually had to listen to a daughter cry out the anguish and pain he’d failed to shield her from. All of them equal in the way they would gladly stand up to be her hero and ultimately were left with only the poor consolation of being her supportive sidekick instead.

Still, if that was all he could be, then he’d damn well give it his all. So he sat there and rubbed her back, letting the minutes pass without a word. Waited until there was nothing but slight hitches and then not even that, just an occasional snivel as the tension leaked out of her.

Slowly, he let his grip slacken, letting her pull away. “Feel better?”

“I guess.” Ruby dabbed her face with the collar of her hood, sniffling every now and again. Once dry, she looked to him with eyes that were bloodshot, the skin around them swollen and blotchy, and said with a voice still a little choked up, “I thought of her.”

The sudden change of topic caught him off guard. “Huh?”

“When I was trying to use my eyes against the Leviathan, I was trying to think up memories of people I cared about to make them work. The last person I thought of was mom.”

Qrow was pretty sure his eyebrows hit his hairline. “Must have been a good thought.”

“More like,” She placed a hand over her heart. “A good feeling.”

An aching tinge of nostalgia hit him. He smiled around it. “Yeah. Summer was always good at invoking that.” He relaxed back against the armrest of the couch. “And hey, anytime you want to hear about her, you know Tai and I are always here.”

Ruby seemed to perk up, though it fell just as quickly. “Dad’s not going to take any of this well, is he?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry about it.” Qrow said as he worried about it a lot. “I’ll ease him into it. It’ll be a hard blow but Tai’s tough. He’ll get through it.”

“Wait, you will?” She said, tilting her head quizzically. “Won’t we be telling him together?”

Shit. “Uhhhh…”

“Uncle Qrow?”

He ran a hand through his hair, mentally cursing himself. This wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to tell her; but, no time like the present he supposed. “Thing is, once the relic is locked away that’s it. Mission’s done. So, I was kind of thinking I’d… head home after this.”

“But, why?”

“Well, heh…” His grin was more of a grimace. “Patch isn’t the worst place to retire.”

Ruby’s jaw dropped open. “Whaaat!?” That screech could have broken the sound barrier. “You’re going to stop being a huntsman?!”

“Kind of the definition of retirement kiddo.”

Her arms flew upwards. “But! But, but, but! You’re Uncle Qrow! Huntsman extraordinaire! You beat Grimm butt on a daily basis! What are you going to do if you retire? Beat people at bingo?”

Qrow flicked her on the top of her head. “Hey! I’m not eighty!” When she only continued to pout at him, he sighed. “Look. My whole life I always followed someone else’s guide. Oz, your mom, Raven. There was always someone there to tell me what to do or where to go in life.” He folded his arms over his legs, meeting his niece’s gaze steadily. “The only time I ever made a choice for myself was when I started teaching. All so I could stay nearby and help out at the house. But that was a long time ago. Now…” He cupped his hands together, turning the ring on his index finger around idly. “Without Oz, I’m lost. Even if I wanted to keep being a Huntsman on my own, my heart’s not in it anymore. More than that, it makes me a liability for you kids.”

Ruby shook her head. “No, it-”

“Don’t lie.” He cut her off.

She winced, hunching over a bit. “But if you go, what are we going to do?”

He smiled. How was it she could both be a force that altered people’s principles and yet still so innocently naïve? “Whatever you want.” He started ticking them off on his hand. “You could travel around, picking up odd jobs throughout Remnant. Or you kids could finish up your schooling. Get your actual licenses so you can enter the rosters legitimately. Then there’s Beacon. It’s still in mid-restoration. I’m sure they could use all the help they can get. There’s no wrong answer, it’s just what you feel is most right.” He gestured her way. “I told you before that you’d go far, remember? I still believe that today. Heh. No.” The image of her standing in front of that Atlas mech, demanding Cordovin to stand down, pushed itself to the forefront of his mind. “I believe that even more now.”

Ruby grinned, looking a tad embarrassed. “Uncle Qrow…”

“You’re gonna be just fine. Whether I’m here or not, you can chart your own path.” He had figured when he finally admitted it aloud, it would crush him to say it. He was blind-sighted by the pride that overwhelmed him instead.

“But,” She turned away, trying to hide her sorrow. “I’ll miss you if you go.”

He laughed, a somber note held within it. “I’m not falling off the face of the planet. I’m just going home. And when you girls are ready to come back, I’ll be waiting.” His expression turned sour. “Though, if Tai’s convinced me to take up gardening in that amount of time, do me a favor and kick my ass.”

She chuckled softly. “Deal.”

The sound of the slider opening drew their attention. Nora stuck her head out. “There you two are! Dinner’s ready. Hurry up or I’m eating your share!” She zipped away before they could comment.

Qrow shared an apprehensive look with Ruby before they both jumped to their feet. Ren’s cooking wasn’t something to miss and, left unchecked, Nora really would vacuum up their meals in a heartbeat. Before they stepped back inside though, Ruby caught him in a surprise hug. He paused, staring down at her.

“I love you.” She grinned up at him.

If he looked closely, he could still see the gap-toothed one from her toddler years imposed over it.

He wound an arm around her, fondness filling him. “Love you too, kiddo.”

Once she’d let go, he followed her lead into the kitchen, watching as she darted around the table to plop down in the seat between her sister and Weiss, while he took the one beside Maria.

“Hm, you seem in good spirits.” She commented, new spectacles blinking curiously at him.

He glanced towards his nieces. Yang was playfully stealing a sushi roll from Blake’s plate, the anxiety and uncertainty from this morning tempered behind her stubborn tenacity. Likewise, Ruby was already chatting happily with her friends, the emotionally charged conversation of a hurting child resting away to favor the self-assurance a leader needed instead. Both issues weren’t gone, maybe they never would be. But for the time being, they were both okay.

“Yeah.” He finally replied. “It’s been a good day.”

Qrow supposed if the only choice in life he ever stopped to make on his own was to help raise the two women he now saw before him, he didn’t do too bad after all.

#qrow branwen #yang xiao long #ruby rose #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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xfirespritex · 7 years

Text

Comeback

A Seth Rollins one shot

Summary: A barbecue at Roman’s house causes old flames to run into each other. There’s a lot to sort out before they can move forward.

Pairing: Seth Rollins X Reader

Warnings: NSFW later in the story.

As voted by @wrestlingnoob @caramara3 @heelcharlie @blondekel77 @panda-girl1999 @theholyfallenangel @tryingtofindaplaceinthisworld @66psychotic99

And now for the usual suspects:

Tag List:

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@redroseblackwolfpack96 @shieldgirl95 @gelinas22

@vebner37 @banrioncethlenn @moxtiel

@fmlallthewayup @breezy14fan @secretagentfangirl @crowleysqueenofhell

@abominablestrowman279 @laochbaineann @logandemico

@calwitch @sleeplessandcynical @sjwrites22

It had been nearly three years since everything had changed in my life. I'd had a great group of friends and an amazing boyfriend in Seth Rollins.

However, when everything changed with the Shield things changed with Seth and me.

It was a storyline, that I was aware of, but it did cause stress in all of Seth's relationships. He couldn't ride with Dean and Roman. He had to keep up appearances. That took a toll on our relationship too.

Dean and Roman had become like family and the distance among them seemed to leak over to me and Seth.

He didn't call as much. His visits home were shorter, more time spent at the gym.

I'd had enough about six months after the Shield ended. I'd asked Seth if "The Man" needed his woman anymore.

He took too long to respond. So, I left. But I couldn't erase him. Pictures of him on my phone went into a specific folder. Pictures of him in my apartment were stored away but not destroyed. His number was still in my phone, even though he hadn't contacted me since that night.

So when I had been invited to Wrestlemania by Dean and Roman I'd accepted, never expecting to see Seth outside of his match and promos that week.

I'd remained a fan and saw the storyline progressing for him. I'd seen his injury and very cowardly sent him a get well basket of his favorite snacks but didn't sign the card, instead writing a quick get well soon message.

He must have not figured out it was me since he didn't reach out and I was both thankful and disappointed. I missed him but it seemed he didn't miss me and much. I did my best to accept it.

So when I walked into Roman's house that Thursday night for a small gathering I didn't expect to see him.

The first two hours I spent catching up with the people I knew and I was sure I was in the clear. Then I heard shouts of greeting and when I turned to see who had arrived my stomach dropped as Seth, leaning on one crutch and his knee brace on, came into the backyard.

Seth and Roman embraced. It hadn't even occurred to me to ask Roman if Seth was invited. I quickly assessed my outfit and cursed silently. The idea that when you saw your ex you should be dressed to kill wasn't bad advice.

I, however, was dressed in torn up jeans, simple sandals and an old, worn out Metallica shirt that I was nearly certain had actually been Seth's at one point before he'd somehow shrunk it in the wash.

I cursed and Renee looked at me. "You look fine," She said, taking a sip of her drink.

I groaned and turned my back to the door, turning back to the fire pit. People greeted Seth and by the sound he was coming closer so, being adult I am, I walked away to the coolers, pretending that I needed to dig for my water bottle. Seth took up my post near Renee and I cursed him. She caught my eye and tried to motion me over.

I shook my head and walked to the other side of the fire, taking up a chair recently vacated by Jey.

I spent the rest of the evening talking with various other superstars, each of them taking an extra second to hug me, sensing I needed the support with Seth there. When Roman finally found me among the crowded barbecue attendees he lifted me in a bear hug.

"How ya doing?" He asked.

I smiled up at him, pretending that I hadn't been feeling nauseous and anxious all night. "I'm good. Nice party Rome, thanks for inviting me."

He eyed me suspiciously. "Don't lie, Y/N. How are you really doing?"

I sighed and shrugged. "Okay, all things considered."

"Has he talked to you yet?" I shook my head no. Roman laughed. "Is that cause he hasn't tried or you won't go near him?"

I looked away from Roman, feeling slightly ashamed and, unfortunately my eyes landed on Seth who was watching the pair of us.

"Fuck," I sighed, punching Roman on the arm as I walked past him and into the house.

Roman always kept the fridge well stocked, especially when he was being a host. Galina was in the kitchen, cutting up more carrots and celery. I walked over and hugged her. She laughed and hugged me back.

"Have you been in the backyard at all tonight?"

She laughed. "Not too much, gotta feed the masses," she laughed.

I bumped her with my hip. "Go enjoy your guests. I can cut up vegetables," I said taking the knife from her hand. "Go spend time with your husband."

She smiled and kissed my cheek before heading outside, knowing she wouldn't win this argument.

I continued cutting the carrots and celery, going into the fridge for broccoli and when I turned back to island kitchen I jumped and nearly dropped the food.

Seth stood there, on the other side of the counter, leaning on his crutch.

"I don't think I'm entitled to be offended by the avoiding game but it does kinda sting a little bit," he said, his voice even, despite the fire in his eyes.

I set the food down on the counter and began chopping, my eyes on the task and not him.

"Okay, that's blatant now," he said.

My eyes snapped back up to him and I hoped he could feel the anger that was already boiling up inside me. "What would like me to say, Seth?" I asked. "Did you expect me to be thrilled to see you?"

He winced slightly and shifted his weight and I wondered, briefly, if the wince was from my words or his leg.

"I don't know. Maybe not thrilled but not like this," he said.

"Like what? Did you expect me to not be angry? You picked everything and everyone else over me. Like I didn't even matter anymore."

Seth frowned and moved around the counter slowly, stopping a distance away from me and leaning more on the counter than the crutch.

"You really think that?" he asked.

"What was I supposed to think? You were never home, when you were you went to the gym or had calls and work to do. You spent little to no time with me except for when I was in your bed and even then it wasn't much time together."

Seth's face formed into a deep frown. "That wasn't it...I just got...I don't know, caught up with everything going on."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better? You were too caught up to be with me?"

He frowned and I went back to chopping the broccoli, refusing to look at him.

"Y/N," he started. I didn't even acknowledge him.

Sighing he gave up and hobbled out of the kitchen, into the back yard. I finished my task and brought the fresh vegetables out to the party. When my eyes found Seth he was downing a beer and talking to Jimmy, a sour look on his face. --

Hours passed and I was still there, helping clean up when I noticed Seth was the only one outside still, his leg propped on a cooler and a beer in his hand as he stared at the fire.

Roman followed my gaze and sighed, shaking his head.

"Guess you'll have to call him a cab," I said.

Roman sighed and went to talk to Seth. Galina frowned as she watched him go.

"Seth's stubborn, you know," She said.

"Yeah, well aware. Roman will get him into a cab."

She sighed again and I frowned. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"He asked Roman and I to talk to you for him. Roman told him he'd made his own mess. So Seth said he'd just stay outside all night until you spoke with him. We were hoping to wait him out but that's not working."

I cursed under my breath, angry at Seth for imposing on his friends like that. I put the plate that'd I'd been drying down and started towards the door.

I heard Galina stutter after me but waved her off, pushing through the doors and into the yard. Marching over the grass Roman heard me coming and got out of the way quickly.

"Are you serious, Seth?" I asked.

He looked up at me, his jaw set.

"Roman gets no time at home. Now that he's home you're going to impose on him because you can't charm me like all your fangirls? Grow up."

"I'd handle it better if you'd just fucking talk to me."

I spread my arms wide, to indicate that's what we was doing. Roman glanced between us before stepping back inside, clearly deciding to let us get it off our chests.

Seth scowled and stood, shakily, and leaned on his crutch to stare at me at eye level.

"If you were acting like an adult and would talk to me instead of running away all night we wouldn't need to have this conversation now."

"And what conversation are we having Seth? You haven't said anything new."

He sighed, his breath coming out in a huff.

"You really think that I chose everything else over you?" He asked, his voice low.

"That's how it looks," I said.

"That's not how it was."

I sighed and sat on one if the chairs. "Then tell me how it was, Seth. Explain it to me. Because all I saw was you putting your career, your money, your fame, ahead of me."

Seth moved closer to me, standing over me. When I looked at him he looked angry.

"It was for you," he said, his teeth clenched.

I burst out laughing. "For me? That's bullshit. You were ignoring me for my own good? Is that it?"

Seth started and stopped speaking a few times and I could see his jaw clenching dangerously. He was really upset and struggling for words.

He turned away from me then and I could see his free hand shaking slightly. I frowned and stared at his back. His hands only shook when he was upset. Sad. Broken down. Not when he was angry.

I stood and walked around him, standing in front of him and, without thinking took his shaking hand in mine.

"You never shake like this, why are you so worked up?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Because it pisses me off that I messed us up. Because I didn't say anything you walked away."

"What would you have said, Seth? It was three years ago."

He laughed slightly. "I can't tell you now. That's asking for trouble."

"Tell me. If me not understanding is why we're talking then explain it to me."

Seth laughed bitterly again before his gaze met mine.

He held my gaze before looking down at the ground. "This isn't fair, ya know? Asking me this when all I can do is stare because you look even better now than three years ago. And you're asking me to tell you the truth when I've been dying to tell you but also afraid to."

"Just tell me."

He paused and looked at me.

"Can I show you?"

An hour later, after me asking what he meant and not getting anything else out of him he asked if I'd drive him somewhere, so he can show me.

I frowned but agreed, telling him that after whatever it was I'd take him home and he'd have to sleep off his drinks. He laughed at that.

So when I found myself driving through a somewhat familiar neighborhood I started getting suspicious. He directed me, his voice even but his hands shaking in his lap.

When we pulled into the driveway of a gorgeous house I remembered where we were. This was a house I had dragged Seth to all those years ago to look at, knowing I'd never afford it.

"Seth, what are we doing here?"

He didn't answer. Instead he got out of the car and started for the front door.

I ran after him. "Seth, stop, you're going to wake the people who live here up." As he reached the front door he pulled keys from his pocket and put them in the lock.

"I'm already awake."

-----

"What?" I asked, staring between the now open door and him.

"I was working so much for you. I was buying this house. I wasn't home cause I was meeting realtors, inspectors and signing the paperwork. I was having a decorator come in the day you left."

"Why didn't you tell me? I asked, staring at him.

"I was scared. I was 27, had just bought a house and was about to ask my girlfriend to marry me and then you were mad at me, you were leaving me. And I couldn't speak. I was so confused. So you left and that was it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked again.

"I was fucking terrified to. You were so mad. It made me think that I'd never been good enough for you. So I just moved in and never said anything. "

I stared at him, his words ringing in my head. He'd bought a house for us. He'd...

"Seth, did you just say what I think you did? About why you were scared?"

His eyes met mine as he thought over his words and when they widened I knew he realized what he'd said.

Seth had wanted to marry me. And I'd never seen it coming. And now, three years later, we stood at the front door of what would've been our house.

He looked at the ground. "Not like it matters, what I said."

"Why wouldn't it matter?"

"Because I let you go, lost you. We had what everyone wanted, everyone thought we were perfect but I was a fuckup and I lost you. You've moved on and you're still a better person than me so I know, that even if by some chance in hell, I was enough for you now I wouldn't get to prove it."

I laughed at the absurdity of this entire night, running a hand through my hair.

"I don't know what's funny, Y/N," Seth said, his voice filling with hurt.

I turned back and stared at him.

"You think I've moved on?"

He nodded, his eyes on mine.

"I'm wearing your fucking t-shirt, Seth. I sent you a care package when you had your surgery. I still watch Raw and wince whenever you take a hit or bump."

I held back the last bit of information that showed just how much I hadn't moved on.

I hadn't realized that in shouting at him I'd stepped closer. Seth saw it though and reached for me, grabbing the soft fabric of the well-worn t-shirt and pulling me even closer, so we were nearly touching.

"You haven't moved on? Forgotten me?" He asked.

"You don't forget someone you wanted to marry," I said.

That made something flash in Seth's eyes. He closed them and leaned his forehead forward until it was touching mine.

"I have to tell you something."

"What?" I asked, my throat tight with anxiety.

"I knew the gift basket was from you. You didn't sign it but I'd know your handwriting anywhere."

"Then how did you think I'd be over you?"

He sighed. "I thought you were just being nice. Like you always were. You were always the better person."

His hand, that had stayed fisted in the t-shirt, flattened over my abdomen and slid around to my side and around my back.

I shivered at his touch, my body waking up immediately.

"Come inside?"

"Seth..." I started, my voice shaking.

"Please? Just...fuck... I can't watch you go right now. We can just sit together but please don't just leave right now. I have to show you something else."

I stared at him before nodding, my stomach in knots. We went inside and my breath left me. The inside was gorgeous, decorated to near perfection.

"Sit, I'll be back," he said. I looked into the sitting room, flipped on a light switch and went to sit on the couch there, sinking in to the softness of the cushion.

I heard him moving through the house and I waited. Looking around I saw photos over the fireplace. I stood and walked to them.

Photos of fellow wrestlers, his friends and family. My throat tightened when I saw one that happened to be my favorite from when we'd been dating.

We'd been at a barbecue with his family and we were taking a group photo but Seth had decided to look at me instead of the camera and I was caught mid laugh about something he must have said.

My hand went to the frame of the photo but I jumped when I heard a crash from the other side of the house.

"Seth?" I called, turning and running towards the sound, upstairs.

I found Seth in his bedroom, near the closet, having clearly toppled off the step ladder that laid beside him.

"Shit, Seth what are you doing?" I went to him and carefully helped him stand enough to get to the bed.

"Wanted to show you something. Like an asshole I thought I could reach the box but I put too much weight on my knee and it gave out."

I frowned, thinking of his match on Sunday. "What box?" I asked.

"Blue shoebox, top right." I turned and picked up the step ladder, moving it farther to the right before climbing up and grabbing the box. When I walked over to Seth I handed it to him and sat down on the bed, the box between us.

I saw his hands shake as he took the top off. Then, I felt myself start to shake when I saw what was inside.

Pictures of us. On top of them was one of us dressed nicely, when we'd attended his cousin's wedding. We'd been dancing and laughing and the wedding photographer had caught the moment.

"That's my favorite one," he said, his voice soft.

"Mine is the one downstairs, at the barbecue."

He nodded and reached into the corner of the box, under the mounds of photos before he pulled out a small box. A tiny, black, velvet ring box.

I stopped breathing.

He opened it without saying anything and handed it to me. I took it in my shaking hands and stared at the ring inside.

It was...beautiful. Not too flashy or big. There was a twist pattern on the metal that held the largest diamond in the center in place.

"Seth..." I said, staring at him.

He laughed, sounding sad as he did so.

"I know, I'm an asshole for showing you this. But I had to. I'm trying to fix everything now. My career, my friendships, my knee...but I need to fix us too."

"Fix us?"

"You're the only woman who ever understood me. The only one who didn't laugh at my dreams, who wasn't with me for my money or my status. I'm not expecting you to pick up where we left off but I need to know if I have even a one percent chance at getting you back. If I do I'm going to fight like hell for you."

My throat was tight and my eyes were watering. I thought everything over and kept my eyes on him until they fell back to the ring.

"I'm...still in love with you," I whispered.

Seth stared at me and I saw him swallow and clench his jaw as he picked his words carefully.

"You are?"

"I never stopped," I admitted.

Seth's hand reached out tentatively to cup my face and I sighed at the familiar warmth on my cheek.

"I never stopped either," he said. I leaned into his hand, soaking up the feeling.

"Y/N, can I ask something? I'm probably pushing my luck..."

"Sure," I said, looking at him, seeing the nerves on his face.

"Can you...stay tonight? I bought this house for us and I can't stand another night here without you in it. The only upside to the schedule is I'm not home too much but when I was injured and doing rehab it was torture here, every day."

I looked at him as my mind tried to make a decision. I wanted to stay, wanted Seth, but I was terrified it'd all fall apart again.

"If you promise me something,” I said. "Well two somethings."

He nodded eagerly, waiting.

"Tomorrow, we figure out how to fix us. I want to try again but I'm scared. So we need to work on that."

"Of course," he said. "What's the second part?"

"I need you, Seth. It's been three years and I missed you too much."

His eyes widened slightly when he got my meaning. "Now for my two somethings, before I answer."

I nodded, waiting. "Are you sure?" He asked. When I nodded again he took a deep breath, relief and excitement on his face.

"Okay so when you say three years...has there been anyone else?"

I shook my head no, feeling my face growing red.

Seth's other hand took the shoebox from between us and he leaned over, setting it on the side table, and then his hands were sliding along my shoulders to the nape of my neck.

"No one?" He asked. His voice was deep, rough.

I shook my head no. "I went on dates, kissed a few frogs but couldn't bring myself to be with anyone."

Seth pulled me closer to him and brushed his lips over mine. I sighed and felt my hand shaking as I reached over and buried my hands in his hair.

"No one else?" He asked again.

I shook my head no and a sound, closer to a growl than anything else, left Seth.

I pulled back to look at him and shivered at the look on his face. His eyes had darkened and his hair, now falling out of the ponytail he'd tied it into, was falling into his eyes.

"I went nuts thinking about other guys touching you, I didn't like thinking about it but I couldn't help it," he said as his one hand slid slowly up my thigh, towards my core.

I grabbed him and kissed him hard, biting at his lower lip before he bit back.

"Fuck," he breathed before pulling me into his lap. I straddled him and our kisses grew deeper. I ground my hips down against his length that was straining against his jeans, making Seth moan.

I slid off his lap and knelt on the floor in front of him, my fingers going to the straps of the knee brace he had on.

Seth leaned back slightly to pull his own shirt over his head and once his brace was off I stood and placed it by the crutch he'd abandoned.

When I came back to him he grabbed me by the belt loop of my pants and pulled me until I was standing between his legs.

"I missed you," he said, his voice shaking.

"I missed you too,” I said, my hands running over his now bare shoulders and over his pecs.

He shivered but allowed my hands to wander as his slid up to the button of my jeans. He tugged the jeans down my legs and his hand slid right back up and rested against my heat, the thin layer of my underwear the only thing separating us. I gasped as his fingers drew lazy circles over the fabric.

He smirked and pulled me into a deep kiss, his body shaking beneath my touch. When the kiss broke I crouched down and my hands found the button of his jeans and I tugged at them, Seth laying back on the bed and lifting his hips slightly so I could tug them down and off, being careful near his knee.

When I stood again his hands were sliding under the shirt and he smiled up at me. “Wearing my shirt still, I didn’t realize it was the same one,” he said as his hands trailed over my abdomen to brush over my breasts and back down my sides.

“It’s still my favorite thing to wear,” I said.

“It looks better on you than it ever did on me and while I love seeing you in it,” he said, pushing up on the fabric and taking it off of me. “I like this view much more,” he finished, his hands going behind my back and undoing my bra. I slid it off of me and smiled down at Seth, loving how he looked at me despite feeling self-conscious.

“Fucking beautiful,” he growled. I smiled but wouldn’t let him topple me next to him on the bed, shifting my weight so I didn’t fall to the mattress.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice slightly uneven.

“Your knee, Seth. I remember how you like things and none of that will be okay on your knee,” I said. He sighed, looking down at his leg as if he’d forgotten all about it.

“Guess that means I get to be in control tonight,” I said, smirking. Seth, catching my meaning, moved backwards on the bed until he was laying near the head board, a smirk on his face. I laughed at the look he wore and crawled over to him, grabbing the boxers he wore and tugging them down and off of him.

His cock sprang out between us and I took it in my hand, pumping him slowly. Seth groaned, low and deep in his throat as his eyes closed. He hissed as I teased him, kissing the tip of his cock once before smirking up at him.

“Tease,” he groaned.

I laughed, once, my body humming at how easy it was to be with Seth. I didn’t feel self-conscious with him, I felt good. I slid from the bed and slid my underwear down my legs before joining him again, straddling him as I looked down at him.

“I love you, you believe me, right?” He said, his voice soft as his hands gripped me to him, one of my hip and the other buried in my hair.

I nodded. “I love you too,” I whispered.

Seth looked like he was about to speak again but I slid back and his cock pressed at my entrance and he stopped. I stilled for a moment until he locked eyes with me and I could feel his heart beating under my hands on his chest.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Figured you’d want to decide when, you always did,” I said, shifting my hips slightly and letting him press into me a little more but not close to enough.

Seth let out a low growl sound and grabbed my hips, slamming me down onto him, making me gasp in both surprise and pleasure at how he filled me. I whimpered, gripping at his shoulders and Seth’s grip on my hips tightened.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “So tight, holy shit,” he said, rolling his hips slowly against mine. I shivered and started to pick up a slow pace, watching as Seth groaned at every move I made.

“Is this what you wanted in this house?” I asked, sitting back slightly and bouncing on him. Seth’s eyes were glued at the spot where our bodies met and his hands grabbed my ass tightly, pushing and pulling on me to keep the pace.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned.

“What did you want here? Tell me what we missed out on cause we’re stubborn,” I gasped as he hit the spot inside me. Three years and he still knew how to fuck me just right.

“We missed on doing this every night,” he gasped, his hips thrusting to meet mine, his injured leg laid flat while I and his good leg did the work.

I rolled my hips, feeling my orgasm build. “We missed lazy Sundays and holidays here. We missed waking up together.” He growled out. “I was too fucking afraid,” he added.

“And I was too full of pride,” I whimpered as his hands grabbed at me, pulling me down to kiss him as I rode him, my orgasm nearing.

“You had a right to be. I wasn’t fair to you. I’m gonna make up for it. You know why?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly.

“Why?” I gasped before I cursed and gasped out his name, my body tensing.

“Because I love you and I swear on everything I own I will call you my wife one day,” he said, his thumb finding my clit and pushing me over the edge.

I screamed as I came, riding Seth until he shouted my name too and, after taking a minute to breathe, I rolled off of him and curled into his side, my legs carefully intertwined with his.

“You still want that?” I asked, gasping slightly as my head came back into focus.

“Yes,” he said.

“Good, me too,” I whispered against his chest. A short laugh escaped him as he held me to him.

“I think…” he started, choosing his words carefully. “I think I’m making more than one comeback this year but this is by far my favorite one.”

#WWE #wwe fanfiction #seth rollins #seth rollins x reader #romance #angst #fanficiton

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equalityforher · 7 years

Text

4:44: Jay Z's Kingdom Has Come, But Is He Ready To Sit On The Throne?

In the beginning, God created the Earth, Moon, stars, and the universe and... J-Hova. Twenty years later, there was a 47-year-old Jay Z, rapping in the confines of a dark studio confessional, laying prostrate before millions while admitting to years of wrongdoing from criminal activity to unscrupulous betrayal of those close to him. His first studio album in four years, 4:44 is a highly-anticipated, timely collection of modern “Hip-Hop Noir” reflections on the impact of his legendary career and iconic status as one of Hip-Hop’s preeminent cultural giants. This new album has energized Jay Z’s fan base, many of whom have long awaited an album worthy of his god-like moniker, J-Hova. While I wish this pseudo-apologia included a mea culpa for Magna Carter, Holy Grail, I’m willing to accept that it takes a lot for a man of his stature to hold lay bare his soul and hold himself accountable so publicly.

During my first listen of 4:44, I wondered about the album’s set up in the opening track, “Kill Jay Z”. The self-flagellating song presents itself as a eulogy for the American gangster persona he created and happily embodied for decades, while stacking millions of dollars. Maybe Mr. Carter no longer wishes to be so closely associated with the Jigga man, having grown into a husband, father, and more mature friend. I get it; we all change and look back with shaking heads at cringeworthy things we’ve done and said. He condemns himself and his behaviors largely within the context of the impact that persona may have on his daughter, Blue Ivy (with wife Beyonce), suggesting it took becoming a father to realize perhaps he wasn’t living his best life.

“But you gotta do better, boy, you owe it to Blue

You had no father, you had the armor

But you got a daughter, gotta get softer”

After listening to the album straight through several times, I realized that in this early confession, he offers explanations of the impact of his gifts and his curses, acknowledging his actions and behaviors in a way that disarms the listener. It’s a battle rapper tactic that a wise veteran would employ: lay out all of your demons and vulnerabilities first before anyone has the chance to eviscerate you by weaponizing your flaws and negative experiences.

I knew, then, that this would be an album that simply doesn’t give a fuck about much of anything anyone would have to say about it. Indeed, it does take on a pointed turn towards a “I am who I am and you are not me so I am going to do whatever I want and you will deal” tone one would expect of an aging husband and father who is more likely to yell “Get off my lawn!” than two-step on a boat to UGK bars.

I also realized that 4:44 is, for all intents and purposes, a summation of the life and times of Shawn Carter; it is an album in four parts. If this is the last solo album we get from Jay Z, and it may very well be, it sounds like he wants us to understand how full circle his life has come, what he’s learned from his experiences, and why it’s important to him to share what he’s learned with others who look up to him.

Act I: “14-Year Drug Dealer and Still Counting”

Shawn Carter sold drugs. Superfacts. The question now is whether or not we are justified in knocking his (and so many others’) hustle. It isn’t like Jigga would ever let you forget his roots, not with decades of storied rhymes that oscillate between exhibiting tremendous pride in said hustle and his ability to beat the odds stacked against kids like him in places like that to being somewhat embarrassed by and remorseful of his contribution to his own people’s destruction. It wouldn’t be anything remotely close to a classic Jay Z album without ruminations on his life as a drug dealer, except this time, there is more of a shadow on his recollections. Way less bravado and bragging, more outlining the blueprint that got him from points A to B in his 20+ years career.

“I'm the Gotham City heartbeat

I started in lobbies, now parley with Saudis”

“Marcy Me”, arguably the most nostalgic song, continues where In My Lifetime, Vol. 1’s “Where I’m From” left off--an ode to the Brooklyn housing project that made him strong, taught him valuable life lessons, and gave him his first opportunity to cash in on the drug game. Borrowing a few lyrics from fellow artists, as Jay Z is notorious for doing, he flows over a melodic tune that boasts his 800 street credit rating, in case you forgot Jigga is from Bed-Stuy!

In “Smile”, Hov reminds us that bad times turn into good memories and, with the help of a therapist, reconciles his tumultuous past with his prosperous present and future. He is clearer about his understanding of how the life he was born into, drug-infested, crime-riddled poverty, was intentionally designed and is systematically maintained. He teeters on the edge of placing full blame of his choices on societal impediments but he comes back and recognizes his own complicity and challenges others to do the same.

“Adnis”, a gutpunch that opens you wide as Jay Z shares what he’s been holding, buried deep inside. It is in this piece that the stage is set for us to reckon with the creation of “J-Hova”, a boy abandoned by his father, left to fill that void in whatever ways made sense to a poor Black boy. This is the space in which we find Shawn Carter, truly and finally, without the bells and whistles. Nostalgic. Reflective. Hopeful. Real.

Act II: “She Fell In Love With the Bad Guy, the Bad Guy”

The Beyhive has long known that Jay Z has cheated and mistreated his wife, Beyoncé, for years; she has several songs on several albums about the pain she’s been dealing with in the role of his life-partner. Her last album, Lemonade, was a collection of this pain with an ending that offered the promise of better days to come with forgiveness, love, and a commitment to make it work.

What I find the incredibly interesting about the title track,”4:44”, the apologetic ode to his far better half, is that it is in the present tense and suggests all isn’t well...yet. “I know in my heart, I’m letting you down every day” is how it opens. “I don’t deserve you” he laments, but doesn’t seem willing to let her go even after admitting how crappily he’s treated her. “I fall short of what I say I’m all about,” is a powerful admission for a selfish Sagitarrian, and I’m eagerly awaiting an outline of a plan for how he plans to be better and do better as a man, especially since so many young (and older) men are looking to him for guidance as a role model. “I’m never going to treat you like I should” is what he offers.

Wow. At least he’s honest. My hope is that the subtlety of this isn’t lost on those having epiphanies and suddenly feel compelled to drop off packages of diapers to their kindergarteners’ mamas.

Also interesting is how he seems more focused on looking bad to his daughter than anything else. “It took for my child to be born to see through a woman’s eyes” is entirely too reminiscent of the problematic “What if it was your daughter or wife?” approach to challenging men to be better about sexual harassment and assault. The song (and album, really) resonates like a Hard Knock Life by Shawn “Jigga” Carter, a bedtime story penned specifically for Blue Ivy and their newborn twins to hear when they grow up. “And if my children know...” and “My heart breaks for the day I have to explain...” are lines that suggest there is a strong embarrassment of being caught out there treating their mother so poorly, especially when their mother is the greatest entertainer of modern time.

Is it so wrong to want to hear an outright commitment to being a man who acts with integrity and honor towards his wife? We get a glimpse of that on “Many Faced God” which features James Blake, but it comes off like more begging and pleading instead of affirmation and strong commitment to moving forward with integrity.

“Baby, I get ya

Let's go through this thing, come out stronger, the golden journey

Broken is better than new, that's kintsukuroi

You're fine china

I'm a bull and ball in a china shop

I promise to repair with gold each bowl I drop

Be grateful for whatever comes”

I’m not sure I believe him. He needs fewer people, like the Becky he has to tell to leave him alone, when he should be saying “I’m leaving you alone Becky”. But it doesn’t matter if I believe him or not because he isn’t my husband and I respect Beyoncé enough to honor her right to make whatever choices she wants and needs to make for her family and her own happiness.

Act III: “All Black Everything, Nigga, You Know My Fresh Code”

Once upon a time, while Kanye West watched the throne from a far, far off distance, Jay Z happily declared how much he loves us Black folks. Black pride has seeped into his most recent works and occupies a more prominent position on 4:44. When one of our own stands up for us, knowing that doing so can risk one’s accumulation of coins, we experience a certain elation. As they say, representation matters.

Calling out Jimmy Iovine for his co-opting of Hip-Hop culture? Bold. Particularly when the block is still hot with tales of Iovine’s collaborative work with Dr. Dre, a genius west coast Hip-Hop producer who briefly dabbled in rapping. (I know that’s not Hip-Hop politically correct. Forget it.) Dame Dash and Lupe Fiasco called out Lyor Cohen a few years ago for similar reasons. And KRS-One did the same years ago, just to name a few. It’s important that icons like him expose the traps of the industry that too many succumbed to as we allowed the infiltration of Hip-Hop by rich White predators who sought to profit more than consume.

“The Story of OJ” is promising in its critique of those who believe the green color of money will erase their Blackness. He uses O.J. Simpson as a target, though it’s clear he is speaking about the tendency of Black folks to get rich and forget they’re still likely to face racism in any income bracket. Riding over the best use of a sample on the entire project, Nina Simone’s “Four Women”, his repetition of the word “nigga” picks up on the knowledge previously laid down by A Tribe Called Quest (“Sucka Nigga”) and Mos Def (“Mr. Nigga”). I appreciate his keeping the conversation going and hope others join in.

However, I take issue with some of Jay Z’s ideas for how Black people can reclaim power and “build intergenerational wealth”, especially to the tune of Donny Hathaway’s “Someday We’ll All Be Free” on “Legacy”. It’s admirable to want to leave a legacy for yourself and your descendants that is honorable and self-sustaining. I think because Black people have been shut out of accessing resources to build the kinds of legacies and empires that European colonizers have, we may erroneously cling to the idea that this money or “wealth” is the best way to go about securing our families’ futures. But does that free us, truly? Or do we become enslaved to a new master that will require us to continue giving so much of ourselves as offerings in order to sustain our new lifestyles?

I think we look at the superstars who started at the bottom and “made it” as inspiration for our own lives, but the truth is that the majority of people born into poverty won’t ever be “wealthy”. Forty-two percent of children born into the bottom fifth (household income/net worth) in America will remain there as adults and only 23% will elevate to the second lowest fifth. Overall, if someone lives in poverty for more than seven years, there’s only a 13% chance of exiting poverty. This is the reality that can’t be solved by preaching that poor folks should invest in Nike stock instead of buying Michael Jordan sneakers, as too many of today’s Black “financial literacy” gurus preach.

You know what’s better than money? The wealth of having love, friends, and family which, according to Jigga, is a lesson he missed out on.

Black capitalism is not freedom, no matter how you picture it, frame it, or flip it, and it continues to trouble me that Black folks insist that building material wealth should be the major goal for every Black family. It simply is not nor is the acquisition of material items to leave to one’s children a priority for everyone. Not everyone wants to own their own business. Not everyone believes money is the key to happiness. Not everyone wants to work days in and out striving towards a goal that statistically most of us will never achieve.

See above: Jay Z was a drug dealer who sold poison to his own Black people, the ones he boasts about having pride in now that he has cleansed his hands from the dirty work it took to get him where he is. Sure, he can give life advice about flipping a $1M painting into $2M, but to the listeners ignoring the past two decades of “I got all of this because I used drug money as start up capital”, I implore you to reconsider from whom you get your financial lessons.

And if we examine Jay Z’s approach to discussing Black women throughout his career, along with his boasting of accumulating wealth by dealing drugs to his community, one has to wonder when this new sense of Black pride developed. Shawn is only human, so of course he can be multi-faceted, but perhaps it comes from the same well from which modern pimps-turned-charlatans who profess “Afrikanness” and denounce White supremacy drink, while disregarding Black women, Black LGBTQ, and Black disabled people in their “freedom” fights?

Growth, though. Growth. What do we want him to do? He’s sorry!

*pours Ciroc*

Act IV: “I’m The Greatest MC, I’m The Greatest MC In The World”

Jay Z is anything but washed, yet he still felt the need to issue a challenge those who have claimed he is. Again, I get it; this braggadocious boasting and declaration of kingly status is what Hip-Hop is about. I’m left wondering to whom is he comparing himself because, if we’re being perfectly honest, *whispers* Jay Z has no real competition today. It’s like a cat toying with a mouse that just wants to go home and eat its stolen cheese in peace. He appears to want the best of both worlds, knowing he’ll go down as one of the greatest rappers to ever bless a mic while schooling these young cats, O.G. style, about personal honor, artistic integrity and cultural respect within the Hip-Hop community.

Calling out current rappers for being corny? Necessary. “Caught In Their Eyes”, a collaboration with existential bemoan-er of life, Frank Ocean, suggests that part of the problem with modern Hip-Hop is that people with little experience with the struggles that Hip-Hop was created to shine a light on are getting deals to make music that hurts the culture.

“Please don't talk about guns

That you ain't never gon' use

Y'all always tell on y'all self

I'm just so fuckin' confused”

He reminded us again, he did it all without a pen, alluding to his now-signature approaching to recording albums without writing the lyrics down. And it sounds like it, but not in a great way, unfortunately. One of my biggest critiques of this album is that Jay Z sounds bored, mostly, not unlike how he sounded on MCHG. The times when he seems connected and energized is when he is boasting about his prowess as an MC. Other than that? He seems to be producing content for reasons other than pure love of the culture and the art of rap. He’s not the first rapper to address the themes in the album (see: “Life Is Good” by Nas) and this isn’t the first album he’s produced that’s been darker or more introspective (see “Kingdom Come” and “The Black Album”). There isn’t anything groundbreaking on the album or remarkably different from what’s circulating around the internet and SiriusXM.

My other criticism is that the production by No I.D., a talented producer out of Chicago, is more often than not pedestrian. The sampling isn’t quite as simplistic as Diddy turning down vocals on his favorite old school songs and having his friends rap over them, but it isn’t nearly as good as those he clearly seems to be emulating: 9th Wonder and Pete Rock. And *looks around* Kanye West. I would have liked a bit more nuance throughout and the strongest songs are the ones in which Jigga is a co-producer.

****

It is solid production and Jay works well with it, but part of me wanted 4:44 to pack a stronger punch. I accept, however, that it was created exactly as it needed to be. It’s adult contemporary Hip-Hop, putting him in excellent company with A Tribe Called Quest and De La Soul who, in the last year, dropped “older”, critically-acclaimed Hip-Hop albums. I like where this is going and I’m sure my peers born before 1982 will also appreciate the growth and maturation of our beloved culture. Our fears of Hip-Hop dying by way of predatory infiltration and loss of integrity have been staved off, if only temporarily, by artists like these who continue to serve up guidance and offer the next generation the most important Hip-Hop history: themselves.

“Hovi's home, all these phonies come to a halt

All this old talk left me confused

You'd rather be old rich me or new you?”

Listen to 4:44 as art produced by a man who still has a lot of growing to do. Don’t we all? And accept that we may not experience, at least artistically, the full bloom of his manhood. And, I think we can appreciate the fact that, in Trump’s America, we got another solid Jay Z album and it’s making people slow down, pause, and think about their next moves.

#Feminista Jones #4:44 #Jay Z #Lemonade #Beyonce #A Tribe Called Quest #De La Soul #Nas #Kanye West #Hip-Hop #FJ #@FeministaJones

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