#I'm also trying to get my hands on Something in the Blood from my library

[999-roses]

on “dracula  (the novel) is problematic”, “stop making dracula (the count) cute, he’s evil”, Victorian mores, and modern woes

dracula daily has really swept us up, huh? naturally we got anti’s with “discourse” such as “stop fetishizing Dracula, he’s evil and an abuser”, or “cancel the book, it disseminates caricatures of Othered identities and furthers xenophobia, homophobia, racism, antisemitism, orientalist tropes, etc”. 

Traditional face-value reading of Dracula gets you a “good triumphs over evil” story, but thinking about questions like “who gets to tell the story” “what are the values of the characters who get to be the narrators, who are they and what do they represent in Victorian society” “why is evil personified in this way”, and in the historical context of the novel, gives you a host of more interesting, nuanced and valuable takes. (This is the premise of this whole post. warning: large wall of text, you are as always completely free to not engage)

And it is such a tragedy that Dracula still gets read as a straight (sorry for the pun) good-triumphs-over-evil story today. Like it or not, we’re still seeing facets of Dracula [the Count] as semitic, as foreign, as queer, and as Other, subconsciously or not -- and those are on purpose because those Othered identities were feared or hated by Victorians. Like, I get objection to uwubification and silliness, it’s a familiar tool to make violators or abusers seem not so bad, or objection that most of the popular posts display little critical lens on the text (valid, but like is anyone going to bother to read my wall of text? lol), but I think it’s really great that there are fan retellings of the story thru the lens of the titular character who doesn’t even get his own POV in the novel with his name on it. And so many more retellings where the female characters have agency, and retellings where van Helsing chooses not to kill the Count. And that emphasizes even more the original story, where all of the female characters are passive while the ideal masculine pillars of Victorian society, personified in affluent Western European men who are lawyer-real estate agent-solicitor, nobility inheritor of land/title/wealth, wealthy Texan (no doubt benefitting from Jim Crow era in his homeland), insane asylum director, and doctor-scientist, collude to erase the foreign, Eastern, queer, sexual, deviant and monstrous Vampire from existence and mainly for the sake of a woman’s “life” or virtuosity, so she will not go down the same path as unvirtuous, defiled, predator of children, "undead” Lucy, who they decapitated as well (Rest in Peace).

And to the rally of “Dracula the character is utter evil, you’re not allowed to make him silly or likeable, stop fetishizing him, it’s like people humanizing and thirsting for Ted Bundy”: to the first part, maybe the point is to deconstruct the notion of who or what is evil, and who is calling the shots about labeling evil? which is NOT like humanizing a real life serial killer.

Vampires -- creatures who must be confined to the night because sexuality, queerness, and otherness are not allowed to come out during Victorian virtuous daylight -- are vilified (by daywalker “proper” Victorians) to the point of it being factual that they are evil and sinister and kill people. It’s not a far echo away from the arguments that Eugenicists, contemporaries of the author Bram Stoker, were making about the people they wanted to Other, control, and eventually get rid of.

(To summarize, Eugenicists wanted to improve society by preventing “undesirable” people from reproducing. The movement picked up in popularity  in the 1870s, a good 20 years before Dracula was published. Morons, imbeciles, weak etc were labels they put on the “undesirables” - not limited to: women who had sex out of wedlock “the promiscuous”, sexual deviants (from rapists to non-prudes to queers), colored people ranging from “savages” to Jews, disabled people, the debtor, the poor... sinners, all. The Eugenicists saw in these people the source of crime and societal ills, and sought to “humanely” remove them from the gene pool including using methods such as forced sterilization, instead of addressing their social or material conditions. To top it off, insane asylums were often places where many of “undesirables” (if they weren’t otherwise detained in jails or unlucky enough to not be born western european) were confined to and frequently the site where forced/involuntary sterilizations occurred. Later on in the 1900s, the Eugenics movement had an unsurprising thorough entanglement with the Nazis, and it’s clear to me that white supremacy has its roots in the same ideas as Eugenics. It’s unfortunately still relevant today, with right-wing media peddling the myth of the very much white supremacist “Great Replacement Theory” which runs parallel to xenophobic and anti-micegenation thinking.)

Maybe the identities that the privileged of a society deem unwanted or unsavory or disgusting to the point that it is wrapped up in a cape of all-encompassing evil, is just that - an exaggerated label, conflated true evils like rape or murder with deviancy or foreignness in one fell caste, to justify violence and destruction. And furthermore, the privileged classes of society use “science” and “rationality” like phrenology (racist skull profiling), actual profiling, law and order, social darwinism, and other caste frameworks aligned with the Eugenics movement to justify their condemnation on the Other, to give “evidence” of deformity or monstrosity. It is absolutely no coincidence that the gang who kill Dracula are the all the different sorts of person to support the Eugenics movement, particularly the “good” white immigrants ie the Texan and the Dutchman, as they would be deemed the “well-bred” benefactors that the movement considered “good breeding stock”, or “of good blood”.

Does it not echo the “arguments” from right-wing circles we are hearing today, labeling gay/trans people and supportive parents as “molesters”, “predators”, “groomers”, “abusers” or otherwise “defilers” of children? What does it say when "righteous voices” in our society are calling folks going about their non-orthodox lives “monsters” but call young men, nay, children defending white supremacy using guns “heroes”?

In the novel, the Count does not get a point of view, he can’t see himself reflected in a mirror, and he doesn’t have a Voice. What we the reader know about Dracula comes from the other characters’ recorded letters, dairies, etc, we do not know what he might have said to us directly -- about himself, about his world, about how he sees the other characters. Let people humanize the Count! It is not on par with real life serial killers. Reading about monsters in the horror genre is not the same as reading about a subjective character, subjective in nature like the other characters in Dracula are offered POV spotlights as subjects and not objects (well, the female characters are barely above that “object” threshold lol). Monsters of literary horror are not supposed to be people like you or I. Particularly, unlike those who get cast as “real monsters”, the real life serial killers 1) actually factually killed real (not fictional) people 2) the likes of Ted Bundy predated on specifically young women and yes used his conventionally attractive mug to do evil 3) the fetishized serial killers tend to be white cishet men, and their fanbases tend to further the narrative that white cishet men get to have their side of the story, get to be humanized rather than monster-ified, which already happens in our society. They get to plea mental illness, self defense clauses, defend their actions as “just their nature as a redblooded man [to do evil things to anyone underneath them in the social totem pole]”, claim that their bigotry is rational (sometimes even “publishing” manifestos on their “rationality”), or otherwise get to tell their story, instead of getting shot on sight, publicly ridiculed, or silenced, as the “Othered” who might challenge real irl Monsters do.

Yea, I’m reaching for my pitchfork now, cuz Dracula is putting forth ideas I as a modern person condemn now! Hold your horses - Bram Stoker was close friends with Oscar Wilde. Stoker started writing Dracula a month after Wilde’s libel trial in which Wilde was very publicly outed from the closet, lost the case resulting in bankruptcy, and then tried and found guilty in another case for sodomy and gross indecency - basically, being a queer deviant. Scholars note that this event made Stoker decide to (further) closet his nonconventional identity, enshrouding that part of himself in darkness as much as possible. There’s wider evidence to Stoker’s closeted status (linked a book below I’m waiting for my local library to lend me a copy, there are also scholarly publications on the topic as well). Dracula was published while Wilde was still serving his sentence of two years’ hard labor. 

I tried to succinctly point the queer undercurrents (and very much internalized homophobia) in the book out to someone in a comment thread somewhere and was met with “>:( you’re saying that Stoker being a sad gay boy means racism and xenophobia etc is ok”. Thanks for jumping to conclusions, I was trying to make a point of being a terrified closeted man where your formerly close associate has been ripped out of the beneficia of high society specifically colors (and likely enhances the internalized homophobia in) the book produced by such an environment. Someone like that would be more sensitive to understanding the anxieties and phobias (not limited to homophobia) of their society, and would feel the need to understand how to blend in/uproot “evil’ in himself. In the book we can see this reflected in the triumph of Christian Victorian mores at the conclusion of Dracula. But I do not deny that Stoker absorbed the homophobic/xenophobic/antisemitic zeitgeist of his time. He absolutely did (that’s my verdict as a casual reader). It was like writing Dracula was a treatise to convince himself of the “right” path, literature as conversion therapy. Academics might have a different angle to this, how Stoker’s will to fit in with Victorian society, sexual repression ever heightened, shaped his worldview, and then distilled into Dracula. It’s clear to me that Stoker very much followed Eugenicist notions of his time, at the very least. He recognized he was queer and chose to only have one child (very rare for well-to-do Victorians), selecting himself out of the “gene pool” for fear of passing on his “bad blood”. 

As this piece of literature as a foundational staple to the horror genre, I think it is important to understand the Victorian environment (historically, culturally, socially) of its origin, which enriches all the derivative works and particularly the subversions we see today. (And indeed, there’s a whole ‘nother discussion about the lasting cultural impact of Count Dracula, like how despite how all the characters tell us that he is a monster and we should shun and fear him, he has such a draw, and still fascinates and even arouses us still.)

anyway, I recommend further wider discourse in threads like this (I linked this earlier, it includes a book recommendation), James Somerton’s youtube videos about horror and queerness, book summary/spotlight for Something in the Blood: The Untold Story of Bram Stoker, regarding more thorough background into Victorian mores and queerness of Bram Stoker, here’s a great post about antisemitism and Dracula, here’s a podcast regarding antisemitism and eugenics in Dracula... and, of course, other meta discussions about the horror genre and its place as a literary tool for transgressive topics

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

OP crews watching you adjust to piracy: Isekai edition

Whitebeard Pirates

"I'm bored," you grumble, lying spread out on the deck of the Moby Dick, as you stare out at the clear blue skies above you.

Whitebeard mumbled, "then go read a book," from his chair, as he read the newspaper

You sighed, "I've already finished everything in the library, twice."

Marco sat up, his leg dangling off the yard he glared down at you and exclaimed, "There's gotta be like a hundred books in there, and you've only been here for a month and a half."

"Yeah, but most of them are shorter than a hundred pages with a relatively low reading level."

Ace, who was lounging on the stairs and eating a bowl of cherries as he said, "oh rub it in, why don't you?"

You flopped over on your stomach, so you could shoot the black hair man a dirty look. "Rub what in? I'm simply stating a fact."

Izou snapped, "he's teasing, ignore him. And if you are bored then go do your chores or something."

You sigh, "I can't, all the chores are done, and there is nothing I haven't already cleaned this week."

Marco squinted at you, clearly using his big brain to try and figure out why you can't just sit still. He slid off the yard, and glided over, landing softly next to you. The blonde started to poke and prod at you, taking your pulse and just examining you in general "I think you're addicted to stress."

"That sounds pretty on point for me." You grumble, "but that might be a result of the way people in my world both live and work."

When Marco squinted at you in confusion, you explained how your usual work week went. Izou huffed, "that explains a lot, you aren't used to having free time. So you don't know what to do with it."

"... but if I'm not being productive what am I supposed to do? Doing nothing stresses me out."

Ace rolled over onto his stomach and groaned, "There's nothing to do because you've done everything already. You even volunteered to clean the bathrooms, who even fucking does that?

Marco took off his glasses, and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he sighed, "People addicted to stress, it explains your elevated blood pressure of late, and your insomnia, and lack of appetite."

Pops huffed, "you are my child, you don't have to 'earn your keep' by working yourself to death. Also, I order you to go through rehabilitation, and that you get a hobby that makes you happy." With that he scooped you up and rest you on his knee, and held you there while you squirmed, ignoring all your complaints about boredom.

Red Haired pirates

Shanks waked out on deck to see the entire crew lounging around. The red head walked over to Lucky Roo and gently kicked his side. "What the fuck is going on, why is no one working?"

The large man merely pointed over at your form zipping from one side of the deck to the other as you swabbed the deck.

The captain cocked his head and asked, "didn't they already swab they swab the deck after breakfast?"

Lucky Roo scratched his stomach as get grumbled, "yeah, they also swabbed it before and after lunch as well."

Benn, who was leaning against one of the banisters, takes his cigarette out of his mouth and says, "you wanna take it easy there kid?"

You stopped and looked at him, sweat soaking the bandana tied around your forehead to keep your hair back, you shake your head, "but I'm almost finished, plus I have to earn my keep." You used this brief respite to ring out the mop in the bucket.

Hongou clicked his tongue in disapproval, and a growled rumbled out of his chest, "You've worked nonstop over the last three days, only taking breaks to eat, sleep, and bathe. Working so much isn't good for you."

"But~"

Shanks waved his hand dismissively and flatly stated, "you've done plenty of work for today, go rest. We can't have you working yourself to the bone, all the time, it'll make us look bad if our land lubber rookie is more active in ship upkeep than us. No matter how cute they are to watch having the cleaning zoomies."

Yassop who appeared to be napping, cracked an eye open to glower at you, as he grumbles, "yeah, all the chores you've done in the last three days, is all the usual housekeeping that we do as a crew over a course of two weeks, actually."

The realization you might be over doing it crashed into you like a wave. You pulled off your bandana and rung it between your hands, "okay, sorry, it's just I need to be doing something, or I'll go nuts."

Shanks ogles you and purrs, "well, how about you do me instead?"

Benn karate chops the top of Shanks' head and grouses, "if anyone on this ship needs to get laid it's me, since I have to deal with all of you dumbasses."

Beast Pirates

You looked around, it was a quiet afternoon, one of many on Onigshima. Most of the core crew had gathered in one of the large banquet halls, to lounge and enjoy the breezy autumn afternoon. Kaido was sprawled out on the floor, drinking sake and snacks. Maria was snuggled up to Kaido, resting her head gently on his chest. Yamato, Ulti and Page one were reading comic books on the floor, and sharing a bag of chips. Sasaki and Who's Who were sitting on the floor playing shogi and drinking. Queen was tinkering with his prosthetic arm, his tools softly clicking against one another. Jack sat in the corner whittling. While King lounged on his back up in the rafters as he napped, the crackling fire on his back that usually filled the silence to a comfortable level for you, was out, so he didn't burn the wood

Despite the peace and tranquility of the room you felt like time was moving painfully slow, and the unfamiliar silence made your ears ring.

As the silence dragged on, you grew more uncomfortable and restless. After a few minutes of constantly shifting around, King sat up and snapped, "would you sit still!"

You whined, "I'm sorry," flopping unceremoniously onto your back. After a few minutes you rolled into your side and asked, "is there any news or~"

Kaido rumbled, "News comes with the paper, which comes in the morning, like it does every day."

Queen took a long drag of his cigar and mused, "I wonder what has got you so antsy, perhaps it's a crush?"

Everyone in the room turned their attention to you, interested to seed if you did indeed have a crush. You shook your head and explained you were just adjusting from our fast past-paced information stream and constant stimuli bombardment to one newspaper a week with important news on it sometimes, and life on a sleepy pirate island. By the end you sighed, "I am just not used to living in boring times, I'm used to knowing world changing events within five minutes of them happening."

King stretched his wings and sighed, "well, that explains why you keep asking about the news, and for stuff to do. But that doesn't explain why you seem afraid of silence."

You hummed thoughtfully, "It's like I'm experiencing silence and tranquility for the first time, because there's always noise, be it from machines, or nature. And it's unfamiliar enough my brain is just like" and you mimic the noises and body language of an angry monkey. Before continuing, "that, and it makes my tinnitus like three times worst, so it's just a constant high-pitched ringing in my ears, which hurts."

Most pirates have tinnitus from the constant gun fire and howling wind. So some of them nodded in empathy. King muttered, "Sometimes I forget you're from a different world, until to do weird shit like that, but I hate that I’m used to it enough that I understand your prattling nonsense."

You puffed out your cheeks, "Well if you'd light your fire again, there'd be enough noise for me to be comfortable."

Queen shrieked, "I asked you a question, will you please answer it!"

Ignoring him, you and King carried on your conversation. King asked, "oh so this is my fault?"

You shook your head and admitted, "no, it's just it helps fill the void, and it's rather calming." Which made King flustered enough he didn't respond, and he looked away from you.

Queen looked between the two of you, realizing what King's body language was saying what he refused to say. Before the round man cackled, "oh my god, you two have a crush on one another."

King swiftly turned on the man, and tackled him to the ground while adamantly denying that he had feelings for you. The tussle resulted in the shogi board being launched against the room, the bag of chips crushed, a bottle of alcohol to spill onto Maria's lap, and an all out brawl.

Kidd Pirates

Kidd rubbed his stomach, drowsy from the large break just ate, and looked at the clock and groaned, "balls, it's time for morning roulette." It was practically tradition that the crew took a thirty-minute break after a meal before starting their chores. There were tasks people volunteered to do routinely, but there were certain tasks that no one wanted to do. So what the crew decided a roulette wheel with everyone's names on it, was the least problematic way to pick who has to do the undesirable tasks. There was even a semi-elaborate ritual they did in order to make sure the wheel wasn't tampered with that involved everyone gathering and taking turns doing a series of checks of the moving pieces.

Killer, who was nominated by the crew to keep the keys two the closet where the wheel was stored, nodded his head and went to go get the wheel. As the wheel was being set up, Eustass noticed you were watching with particular rapt attention. From what you'd told him of the diversity of your old life back in your world, he only assumed your interested was because this was new to you. Kidd slapped his brawny hand on your shoulder and boomed, "you look like you've never seen a roulette wheel," and shook you playfully.

Kidd was shocked when you turned your attention to him and admitted, "no, we used them at school festivals for games like the cakewalk. I just have never seen it done so thoroughly. I figure it's to make sure it's not tampered with?" Kidd nodded, and you hummed, thoughtfully, "I admittedly was trying ways to figure out how to rig it in a way that gets around the inspections."

The crew stopped their examination, to glare over at you. You held up your hands and promised, "Not to cheat, but to come up with more inspections."

Wire sauntered over and engulfed your skull in his hand, and warned, "do not futz with the wheel."

As you nodded in his grasp, Killer chuffed, "you better not, also saying that out loud is a good way to get framed by someone trying to rig it?" His blond hair dancing along his back as he shook his head in disbelief.

That night, as you headed to join the crew for dinner, you noticed everyone was inside the galley already, and that their precious wheel was left attended out on deck. You grinned as the most wonderful and irresistible idea took root in your head.

Kidd took the plate of pasta that Killer made for dinner, and turned to go sit down. As he looked for a spot a very sharp and familiar rapid clicking from out on deck pierced the quiet hum in the room. While The red haired man thought nothing of it, Killer asked, "where's (y/n)?"

When everyone connected the dots, many of them raced to the door, and threw it open, expecting to catch you red-handed. Only to be met with your figure fully illuminated in the moon light, standing an arm's length away from the wheel, gently spinning the wheel with an outstretched finger. As they stared at you, trying to figure out what they were looking at, you let out a dark chuckled, "hehehe, If I cannot find problems, I will make them..." making them realize you were fucking with them.

Killer snapped, "why are you like this!"

"I dunno, I'm bored."

Killer momentarily took a few deep breaths to calm himself, before he gritted out, "if you're bored, there's plenty of work to be done."

You shrugged, "I don't wanna, besides tormenting you is so much more fun," and walked over towards them.

Kidd's eye twitched as stopped you, threw you over his shoulder, carried you into the galley, and roughly dropped you into a chair. "Sit," he ordered, pointing down at you, before he wandered over and handed you a plate of food. "Eat, and stop causing problems."

As the captain walked over to his second in command, you exclaim, "how about we play a different kind of roulette!" And you pull out an unloaded revolver from the back of your trousers. Killer quickly brings his fist down on your head, and pulls the revolver out of your hand and replaces it with a dart gun.

Kidd pointed a finger at you and bellowed, "that's it, you're sorting the scrap in my workroom, so I can keep an eye on you."

[missmonsters2]

—FLASHOVER | SEVEN

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x OFC/Fem!Reader

Summary: Wednesday finds it's pleasant talking to you. There's a rhythmic back and forth, easy to follow along. So, why is it that you've been making bets and comments in your latest conversations that are way too emotionally charged for someone like Wednesday to know what to do with the static and friction.

Warnings: Competitive!Wednesday. Jealous!Wednesday. Competitive!Enid—she's gonna win that trophy again. Thing—should be getting paid honestly. Xavier—only knows losing.

Series Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

Reminder there’s no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Note: This is a little longer to make up for the short chapter last time 🤏 let the action begin! I hope you enjoy it ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) also yes i did change part 6's graphic nobody say anything shh

Part Six

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Flashover: Noun. The moment a conversation becomes real and alive, which occurs when a spark of trust shorts out the delicate circuits you keep insulated under layers of irony, momentarily grounding the static emotional charge you've built up through decades of friction with the world.

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It was the day before the Poe Cup race, and everyone was finishing the last touches to their boat. 

"Are you sure this is okay?" You ask with a tilt of your head.

Enid and Wednesday glanced at each other.

"No."

"Yes."

They say it simultaneously, and you give them an amused smile.

"I mean it's not, not okay," Enid explains to you. "I need to win this trophy a second time in a row, alright?"

Enid finishes polishing the last of the boat, waving the two of you off as Yoko comes in, holding a jumpsuit that makes Wednesday's lip part slightly and sigh. Placing her hand on the small of your back, she begins to push you to walk away.

"Aren't you going to stay and finish helping?" You ask curiously, though not resistant at all to being led away. 

"No," Wednesday drones. "I'm only entering as Enid is down a rower. My conditions were that I'm copilot again this year and that outside of giving my input and checking on the boat, I wouldn't be forced into their team-bonding."

You give her an amused smile, stopping as the two of you stand in the empty hall. Turning to face Wednesday, her eyes are alight with curiosity, even if the rest of her face doesn't show it. 

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, your smile lingering on your lips. 

The ravenette peers back at you, and you feel memorized by how long her lashes are. It takes you to then admire her smooth skin—even if it lacks life. Wednesday's lips are also supp—

"What," Wednesday drives you back to reality. Her eyebrows are furrowed, confused by your intensive study of her face and silence.

You bring the crook of your finger to your mouth, clearing your throat with a cough, trying to suppress the blood rising to your cheeks.

"I was just wondering if you're ever bothered about the fact that we're..." your voice drifts off as you think about the correct way to label the two of you, "involved, and you don't have my number. I have yet to hear even one possible nickname for me from you."

"Why?" Wednesday asks with a raise of her brow. "Are you offering it to me without?"

You smile with a shake of your head. "I'm afraid not," you say but don't look sorry at all. "Rules are rules, Wednesday."

"Rules are made to be broken," Wednesday pushes back. "If I had followed every inane rule since arriving at this penitentiary, everyone would've been none the wiser and perished."

"Hm," you hum, conceding with a nod. "I would argue more that despite your lack of knowing the rules, everyone survived."

Wednesday glares at you, and she's about to demand that you explain, but you cut in before she can say anything.

"I'm enchanted by rule-breakers, Wednesday, but only by those who know the rules well enough to break them," your smile is teasing, but Wednesday can't help but tense her shoulders and stifle her frown. She's about to say something when she spots movement from the side of her eye.

That lanky, stuttering boy. 

"F-Fae!" He started hesitantly but grew more confident when he saw you smile his way.

"Hello, Henry," you politely greet. "How are you today? Are you heading to the practice room?"

He nods eagerly. "I'm good, and yeah. I swear I can do something cool if you can come see it next time," he smiles shyly back but doesn't give you time to accept or decline. "Are you going to the Poe Cup race tomorrow?"

You nod. "Yes, Bianca has asked me to come cheer for her."

Wednesday bristles. 

"Will you be going?" You ask Henry.

He looks regretful as he shakes his head no. "Unfortunately not. My father's birthday is this weekend, and I'm picking out his gift rather last minute. I'll be heading into town mulling over what I could possibly get the perpetually unsatisfied man."

You look on pityingly at him. "I'm sure he'll be happy with what you get."

"Yes," Wednesday cut in. "If not, then get him something he will undoubtedly be miserable with."

Henry looks at Wednesday strangely while you try to hide your chuckle behind your fist. 

"Well, Henry, Wednesday and I better head to class. I'll let you know who wins the race." You wave him goodbye, and he happily returns it back. He looks at Wednesday, waving at her too, but she merely stares at him before turning away to walk with you. 

As they're walking, Wednesday can hear footsteps. There's a nagging feeling in her stomach and a pricking feeling on the back of her neck. She turns her head back to look at the lanky boy but sees him sitting under one of the arches of the hall.

The sight leaves Wednesday confused, but she turns her head back to you. 

"You're cheering for Bianca?" Wednesday asks flatly, leaving out any emotions in her tone that could reveal her feelings.

"Well, she did ask me very early on," you reveal, slowing your walk down as you're in no rush to get to class. 

Wednesday follows your pace, disgruntled by the sudden change in speed and your answer. "You have pledged your allegiance to the wrong side as I will be defeating Bianca for the second time in a row. Switch or you will taste defeat right along with her."

You lick your lips, trying to not laugh. "I don't know. Bianca mentioned she had a very strategic plan. It's possible she may win."

"Over my dead body. Thing is aggrieved with you."

"Thing isn't even here," you point out, laughing. "Alright," you grin. "Why don't we make a little bet?"

"And what exactly will the winner get?"

You look up slightly in thought before looking over to Wednesday. "How about the winner gets to plan the first date?"

Wednesday comes to a dead stop. She looks at you, a little wary. "First date?"

You nod. "I think we're due for our first one." You seem like you're going to say something else but pause for a moment before sighing. "Damn, we really have all of this backward. At this rate, we'll end up doing everything else before you get my number."

Wednesday mildly scrunches her nose, her lip curling at your comment. "Why on earth would I want to plan our...our..." Wednesday can't seem to get the words out. "A date," she forces out instead.

You smirk at her. "Because if I plan it, I might subject you to a night of snood-wearing, hair-braiding, nail-painting, 2000s romcom movies date night."

Wednesday's eyes widen, looking ghastly at the suggestion. Disgust is written all over her face, and it takes everything you have to not burst into laughter. "I thought dates were supposed to be enjoyable for both parties."

"I have to keep you on your toes," you say, trying your best to sound serious. 

They start walking again, and Wednesday's eyes flitter back and forth as she considers your words. "Would you really subject me to that kind of torture?" She doesn't know whether to hate you or be proud.

"No," you admit, unable to continue your charade. "But now you know there is an appeal to being able to choose the activities we do."

The two of you stop in front of the class door, and most people have already arrived. 

"Good luck in the race, Wednesday," you say softly, starting to walk into the classroom. 

Wednesday feels the tension in her ease at your well-wishes and soft tone. 

You look back at her with a brow raised. "And maybe next time, ask me earlier to come cheer for you."

Wednesday clenches her jaw, following after you as she snaps back. "Perhaps don't agree to cheer for the enemy regardless of how early she asks."

It's irritating when you can sense when there is and isn't a bite in her tone because you only turn around, giving her a smile that makes her own lips threaten to match.  

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The sun beats down on Wednesday, making her normally cool skin feel clammy under her catsuit. The race was about to begin soon, and Enid was yammering something to her, but she wasn't listening. 

Looking around, Wednesday spots you chatting with Bianca, looking impressed with the sirens' boat. Her lips purses mildly in irritation as she turns back to Enid.

"What's the matter?" Enid asks, but Wednesday doesn't give her an answer, forcing her to search for what could irritate her best friend and roommate. Enid finds it immediately.

"It's totally fine," Enid dismisses, trying to comfort Wednesday. "Once we win, faerie berry will be celebrating with you."

"You already used that one," Wednesday ignores everything else Enid says, "and it's foul."

"To you," Enid says, stinking her tongue out. "I'll have you know it made Fae laugh."

"What's the point of having the nickname if you're going to call her Fae anyway," Wednesday points out. "Admit it. You've run out of ideas."

"O-m-g, just shut up," Enid scrunches her nose at her roommate. "This is what I get for trying to comfort you while your girlfriend cheers for someone else."

"She's not my—" Wednesday feels the heat flare up in her cheeks, even if it doesn't show (thankfully). But Enid cuts her off and starts dragging her towards the canoe.

As they all sit in their positions: Wednesday and Enid in the middle, Yoko at the front, and another girl at the back. The crowd settles and they prepare to hear the signal. 

Ajax isn't participating this year, so there is no one to distract Enid. Or so Wednesday thinks, but Enid turns her head around and smiles at her boyfriend.

"Focus, Enid," Wednesday sighs. 

The gunshot goes off, and everyone begins to paddle rigorously. It's similar to how last year started off. Everyone except Wednesday is unaware of the secret siren lurking under the waters. The first boat is eliminated almost immediately. 

Wednesday finds it suspicious that Kent heads towards her boat despite knowing she has a net prepared. But she's not left with much choice and has Thing activate the first switch. 

Just as last year, the siren is caught in her net. When Thing comes back onto the boat, he describes how the siren slowly sinks to the bottom as he tries to claw his way out. Wednesday hums, her eyes continuing to focus ahead as she paddles.

They reach the halfway point, and when Wednesday looks, she sees you peacefully sitting at the edge of the wooden dock, your feet free of shoes and socks as they languidly dip in the water. 

You send her a small wave and smile at her, which she doesn't return. But then you also look at Bianca, who has also spotted you, and send her two thumbs up at being slightly ahead.

Wednesday rows more forcefully. 

When they reach the Crackstone's crypt, Wednesday runs off to grab their flag as she did last year. She's highly sure that Thing won't be able to distract anyone else from deserting their boat, so Enid and Thing will need to get creative. 

"Hope you don't plan on taking a cat nap this time, Addams," Bianca quips as she catches up to Wednesday. 

"Why not?" Wednesday monotones, not bothering to look over. "I did last year and still managed to beat you."

"That was beginner's luck," Bianca snappishly says before smiling. "Just like fencing."

"We'll see," Wednesday answers with finality before out-running the siren to the crypt. 

Xavier has already grabbed his flag, flashing Wednesday a cocky smile as he passes her. "I'm not losing this year, Wednesday!"

She doesn't pay him any mind as she runs up to grab their own flag. She grasps it, ready to run back, when something catches her eye from the side. Amongst the yellow and green leaves lay a single vivid cobalt teal petal. Leaning down, she goes to pick it up. The second her fingers touch it, her body seizes. 

Controlling her gift has become better over the summer, and she can stop herself from falling over, but she can't contain how it feels like livewire ripping at her skin, unnerving her. 

"Jericho grows these flowers—draeconiums. They're usually harmless and have a short bloom lifecycle."

"They bloomed under an eclipse."

"Poisonous sap—harder than any metal."

"It's the only thing that can cut off a faerie's wings."

Wednesday feels like she's choking. She sees blood coating her hands along with stray black feathers. Darkness slowly clouds her vision until it's all she can see.

"Did you think because I smiled at you that I was kind? That I wasn't capable of hurting you?"

Wednesday's eyes snap open. She looks around and finds herself still standing in front of the crypt, gripping the pole of her flag until her knuckles are white.

"Don't tell me you're winded." Bianca runs up, grabbing her flag and not even sparing Wednesday a glance. "Guess I should work you harder in fencing."

Wednesday doesn't say anything, beginning to run back to the boat. 

The voice was distinctly clear. After all, Wednesday hears it every day and even dreams about it sometimes. She hears it every night she applies the salve to your wrecked wings. The only thing that throws Wednesday off balance is the acid in the tone—in your voice. 

She looks at the creased cobalt teal petal in her other hand.

What was a draeconium petal doing on the island?

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The second half of the race becomes tense. 

Kent seems to not have escaped from the net, which Wednesday found odd. He must've been hiding somewhere. 

Suddenly, the Amontillado team starts to sink, and Xavier lets out a big groan, slumping in the back.

"What did you do?" Wednesday asks.

"Thing and I switched it up this time. I distracted them and Thing drilled holes at the bottom of their boat," Enid wickedly grins just as Thing comes out from hiding under, dragging a cordless drill. "I bought that over the summer. It's waterproof!"

"How did you distract them?" Wednesday was curious. 

"My feminine wiles." Enid looks so innocent that Wednesday almost couldn't tell if she was being serious or not. 

Now it was just the Black Cats, and the Gold Bugs left, and it seems Kent decided to make his appearance known then, coming up to push the Black Cat's boat, steering them off course and towards the buoy. 

Thing throws himself into the water, swimming under the canoe towards the siren, who is smirking. Just as Thing is about to punch Kent in his face, another siren pops up from behind, securing Thing into a bag and pulling the string closed tight despite the thrashing.

Wednesday waits a few more seconds, but the answer becomes clear, especially when she sees two tails splash up briefly from the water. 

Thing doesn't swim back up from the water, and their boat is still being pushed off course forcefully. Wednesday turns on the second switch, which activates the harpoon spikes on the side of the boat. This year, they implemented a few more that would be underwater to deter sirens from getting close. 

It seemed while Wednesday expected Bianca to bring more sirens to assist her under the water, Bianca had also anticipated Wednesday knowing and preparing their boat to adjust. 

Therefore, the queen bee siren had prepared something unexpected at the very end. 

Their boat suddenly stops being pushed off course but then something worse happens. In the water, the two sirens work in tandem, swimming in rapid circles, and a whirlpool near the Black Cat's boat forms with speed, beginning to drag their unwilling boat toward disaster. 

"Paddle!" Enid screams, but it's useless. 

Thing was trapped under. 

It wasn't like he would die or anything, but there was no way his fingers would have enough strength to swim away from the forming whirlpool. He would be sucked in, swirling around until he likely hit the bottom of the river, exhausted and unable to swim back up. 

They were just past the halfway point. Wednesday had seen you as she paddled back, looking just as relaxed and languid. Now, you were peering furiously into the water as if trying to find Thing. 

Your head snaps up, locking eyes with Wednesday as she is being pulled into the whirlpool. She isn't too worried as she's an adept swimmer, and the most challenging obstacle would be holding her breath long enough to make it through to the end of the whirlpool and not slam her head at whatever was at the bottom, then have enough air to swim back up. She hopes her teammates are capable of doing the same.

If she didn't drown, she might try to find the opportunity to discover where Thing was trapped.

But then Wednesday watches you stand, loosening the tie around your neck, discarding it on the ground before you roll your skirt's waistband down several times and pull it higher up your body so the length is above your knees. Then, she watches you do a perfect dive into the river. 

The first feeling Wednesday experiences is apprehension because Wednesday doesn't even know if you can swim. Why wasn't that one of the things she asked you? 

But she only knows right now that there's a continuous rapid whirlpool, getting stronger by the minute. If you get sucked into that, and you aren't an adept swimmer, you will certainly, at the very least, drown. 

It would be okay for Thing and sirens, but definitely not creatures that needed air. 

Wednesday throws her oar back into the boat, ready to throw herself into the water, when Enid grabs her wrists and yanks her back down. 

"Enid!" Wednesday snaps, feeling that apprehension grow into something worse when you haven't popped back up for air yet. 

"You can't jump down there, you idiot!" Enid snaps back. "Unless your skin can absorb water and turn it into oxygen or you're hiding gills somewhere, you'll drown! Our best bet is to paddle into the moving downstream of the whirlpool and slingshot ourselves around and out."

"Yes, however—" Wednesday starts to argue but is cut short when the rapid current of the whirlpool and the pull of their boat suddenly begin to slow down. 

The look of confusion passes through everyone's face, especially Bianca's, as she paddles past Wednesday.

Eventually, the water is still again, and the heads of the sirens responsible for the whirlpool pop out of the water.

"Fuck!" Kent shouts with his hands to his eyes, rubbing them. "I can't see anything!"

The other one near their boat pops up, looking frantic. 

"Why is it suddenly dark?" She sputters, holding out her hand as she wades through the water, trying to find something. Her hand slaps against the Black Cat's boat, and she looks alarmed. "Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Are you blind?" Enid waves her hand in front of the girl's face, but there's no reaction. She even jumped at Enid's voice, not realizing how close she was. "It's very much still daylight out."

Wednesday looks into the girl's eyes but finds something amiss. 

The girl is still sputtering, asking for help, but Enid is more ruthless than Wednesday thought, especially since it seems like the siren's vision is slowly returning.

"Peace and love to you but goodbye!" Enid shouts as she directs everyone to start paddling. 

Wednesday paddles but looks to the side, where she sees an arm shoot up and grab the edge of the wooden dock. Another arm shoots out, and you're hoisting yourself up onto it. Thing is on your shoulder, and relief floods Wednesday's body. 

Wednesday locks eyes with you, catching you wringing the bottom of your dress shirt and skirt. You smile at her before mimicking the gesture of her paddling, telling her she should paddle faster. 

Turning back to the course, Wednesday puts her back into paddling. It seems that this year, Bianca learned her lesson, building her boat with deadly weapons, and prepared for the worst-case scenario of Wednesday somehow catching up.

Just as Wednesday paddles up next to the Gold Bug's boat with the spikes out, Bianca activates the harpoons from her boat, forcing them to keep their distance. The sirens have planted spikes around their entire boat to prevent the Black Cats from trying to get them on another side. With her team being stronger paddlers, Bianca gives Wednesday a victorious smirk as she paddles away.

But—Wednesday had banked on the fact that Bianca would grow smarter. She activates the third switch on the boat. A lid opens up at the bow of their canoe, and a small harpoon cannon rises. 

"Don't miss," Wednesday threatens Yoko, who waves her off dismissively with a hand and grabs onto the handles. 

"What?" Yoko smirks. "Do you think my eyes being in the dark with the sunglasses on would impede my perfect vision? I only bumped into a wall 6 times this week."

Wednesday doesn't comment back, mostly because Enid already seems too high-strung at this moment that she's confident the werewolf would kill her vampire best friend if the girl missed the shot. 

Yoko spends only a few moments aiming before shooting, the harpoon shooting out with force, piercing right into the opening hole of one of the spikes on the Gold Bug's boat. 

"See!" Yoko grins. "All that worry for nothing." Yoko presses a button to reel the harpoon, and as it yanks back, it rips a hole into the Gold Bug's boat.

Water quickly fills Bianca and her team's boat, and they're left bitterly watching the Black Cats row by them a second year in a row. 

The cheers are deafening as they return to the dock, with everyone jumping and screaming.

"Yes, yes, yes!" Enid screams, hugging Wednesday as the girl grunts with displeasure but allows it. "This better be the only highlight of my year!"

Wednesday finds it amusing before she turns and scans the crowd. She sees you in the far back, trying to not draw any attention to yourself. Your hair is still damp, but your clothes look relatively dry as you've been standing in the sun. Thing isn't anywhere to be seen, assumedly going back to the dorm room to rest. 

You're not cheering or clapping, but you're beaming, seemingly pleased at Wednesday's victory. 

"You're getting really good at this school spirit thing. I know you have no beef with Bianca this year, but you have to admit that it feels good to beat her again," Enid conspiringly whispers. 

Wednesday turns her head to look at Bianca, who is climbing out of the water, looking vexed. "Defeating someone always feels good," Wednesday smirks. "But it feels better when there's a reason to."

That's what her fencing rival gets for asking you to come and cheer for her. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Wednesday knocks on the door of your room carefully. She's never been to your room before, but she does like how isolated it seems. The room is further down the hall, away from others.

"Come in." Wednesday hears the muffled voice on the other side of the door. 

Turning the knob, Wednesday enters to find you standing at your full-length mirror, drying your hair. You're in casual clothing, a sight that Wednesday is used to. Wednesday, herself, was wearing a striped black and white long-sleeved shirt and a black sweater over that. 

"Hey," you look at her through the mirror, smiling as you lock eyes with her. "Not going to celebrate with your teammates?"

"I told Enid I'd think about it," Wednesday says, recalling the same words she told the blonde last year. Of course, she had been thinking about it if you were there, but Thing brought her a note from you saying to come meet you after she was done celebrating.

Therefore, Wednesday opted to skip if you weren't going. 

You chuckle, not commenting on it. "Do you want some tea?"

Wednesday nods, looking down at the fuzzy black rug and a small round coffee table a few feet away. She strides her way around before sitting on the floor at the coffee table.

There are two mugs and a cordless electric kettle in the middle of your coffee table that you open up before grabbing a water bottle to pour its contents in. You shut the lid before turning it on, and the sound of water heating fills up the room.

Wednesday takes a moment to look around the room, noting how similarly plain it was like hers (her side, at least). The room was much smaller than Wednesday's, but it was obvious it was your room alone. 

You had little personal items, mostly photos you'd taken with your friends. Instead of a twin bed like everyone else, you had a queen-size tucked in the corner. Beside it, against the wall and in front of a window, was a long desk, enough for two people to work on it if they squished. But it was barren besides a laptop and a photo of you and Bianca and you with Enid and Yoko. 

At the end of your desk stood the full-length mirror. There was a reach-in closet on the opposite side of the room, filled with your clothes that hung neatly. A lot of them looked new and unworn. 

There was little walking room, but Wednesday found it comfortable. 

"You don't have a roommate?" Wednesday asks, even though the answer is obvious.

"No," you shake your head. "It'd be impossible to hide my wings with a roommate and I need to let them out every night or they'd be very, very sore. Not to mention how miserable I'd be keeping them for that long."

"It must be nice," commented Wednesday.

You shrug. "I'm used to it, I suppose. But sometimes I'm envious of the whole…" you wave your hand in a vague motion, "roommates thing. It seems nice."

Wednesday snorts derisively. "You say that without knowing Enid's habit for snoring and singing horrid pop music. It's hard to get work done sometimes."

You finish drying your hair, letting the rest of it air dry. You hang the towel on the mirror's edge before sitting down next to Wednesday, your shoulder bumping hers. "Well, you're welcome anytime here, even if I'm not around if you want some peace and quiet," you offer. "Usually if I’m here, I'm not doing anything much except on my laptop and with earphones in."

Wednesday fidgets with her fingers at your tempting offer. "I see you've fallen into the downfall of our age—technology."

You laugh, the back of your hand covering your mouth. It's such a melodic sound that Wednesday can't help but think of her vision earlier and the acid in your tone. 

Was it even possible?

The water finally finishes heating up, and you place the tea bags into the two cups before pouring hot water into them, sliding one mug in front of Wednesday, who nods in thanks.

"I will admit that I've fallen into binging Netflix shows or documentaries, and the occasional snooping of Enid's blog, but I can't say it's an addiction of mine," you reveal. "Fae realms aren't as modern as the outside world. We have things like electricity, heating, and plumbing but technology isn't as prevalent. It's more used for research than it is for entertainment."

"I see," Wednesday tilts her head at the information. She wishes her mother would hurry up with that goddamn diary. 

"I believe a lot of the younger generation is fighting for change but a lot of high lords are against it," you sigh.

Wednesday doesn't know what to say. She's not knowledgeable enough about fae realms to comment on it. But you change the subject before she can even attempt to think of an answer.

You turn to her, a crooked smile on your lips. "Congratulations on today," you say softly. "You were very impressive."

Wednesday shrugs off your laudatory. "Victory was only possible because of you," she acknowledges. She turns to you, narrowing her eyes. "You did something to those sirens. It caused them to be temporarily blind."

You nod. 

"Is that your power?"

You vaguely nod again, swaying back and forth as if that's only part of the answer.

"One of them, yes." You finally say. "It's a mild form of psychic powers. I'm not actually physically impairing their eyes, but rather clouding their mind, cutting off certain brain signals so that they think it's pitch black."

"I'm not really good at it," you hurry to say after, as if worried. "I don't have a lot of practice, and it can only last a few minutes at best."

"That is impressive," Wednesday genuinely compliments. 

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks and rub the back of your neck shyly. "Thanks," you mumble.

Wednesday senses your discomfort and decides to not push you about your powers for tonight. 

"I thought you were rooting for Bianca," Wednesday says quietly. "We had a bet, did we not?"

You tilt your head at Wednesday, almost as if you're confused by her words. And then you're leaning closer to her. 

Wednesday is impossibly still. The air suddenly feels electrically charged, sparks forming as the silence drags on. It was infuriating and intoxicating how you could turn the mood so fast.

"Wednesday," you call her name softly, silkily, making the ravenette twitch. "Are you a competitive person?"

"Most definitely." Wednesday answers without hesitation and in a tone that almost seems proud. "I can be obsessive, single-minded, and I don't often lose."

"I'm not a competitive person at all," you admit to her, leaning closer. "I make bets all the time without a care if I win or lose them."

You had taken a sip of your tea earlier, and Wednesday could feel the heat of it on your breath. She could practically feel the heat radiating off your lips. 

"That's ridiculous," Wednesday tries to keep the steel in her voice, but she feels something in the back of her throat wavering.

"Is it?" You retort back quietly. "If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

The words take a moment for Wednesday to process. Her eyes focus, recalling the bet, and she feels her stomach knot. 

"I don't care who plans the date," you say the words out loud, forcing Wednesday to publicly acknowledge it. "Because in the end, we'll be having a date."

You smile, and it causes your lips to brush against Wednesday, and her eyes flutter close.

"Although, I do admit it will be fun to watch you attempt to plan a date that will entertain us both," you tease. 

Wednesday's eyes snap back open, glaring at you. "Don't get ahead of yourself," she raises her brow at you. "If I can't be sure to plan the best date, I may settle to plan the worst one."

"Worst?" You try to not laugh.

"It would end in tears…on your end. Uncomfortable displeasure on mine."

"And the best?"

Wednesday is silent.

You let the silence linger between the two of you, basking in the proximity of Wednesday Addams. 

"Want to make another bet?" Your eyes flitter up to look into Wednesday's gaze.

"Exactly what kind?" Wednesday asks. Given your revelation, she knows she should say no, but curiosity has always been Wednesday's killer.

Wednesday watches you observe her, studying every meticulous feature of her face as if searching for something. Wednesday is stiff, but she's leaning closer even if she doesn't realize it.

"If you stay completely still for the next five minutes, I'll refrain and wait to kiss you on our first date," you say, moving somehow closer to Wednesday's face, tilting her face more against hers. Your lips brush but never fully touch. "If you move, you have to kiss me right now."

Everyone knows that Wednesday can stay still long enough to make people believe she's dead. You must've known that, especially having listened to people telling you about last year's events. 

So, Wednesday thinks about what this bet is about. 

"If I make the bets, I can tell you now that I'm winning either way."

And regardless of the results of the bet, you'd get a kiss.

Wednesday swallows, feeling something strange happen to her by just your words. 

It's the kind of revelation that feels emotionally charged. It's a build-up of all the time she has spent with you and pathetically pined after you. 

Wednesday is a very competitive person. She detests losing. It brings pity, rage, and self-disgust.

Yet, because it's you, there's an underlying spark of trust in defeat. 

Wednesday Addams didn't mind losing to you.

Licking her lips, Wednesday moves her hand, grabbing the edge of your shirt at your stomach to anchor herself. She tugs, pulling you closer, and presses her lips against yours.

PART 8

[givemea-dam-break]

hello my love <3 can i request fluff with lockwood where y/n is sick and she also has injury on her hand (something like lucy's maybe?) and when lockwood wants to clean it she's not happyy about that 'cause she only wants to sleep and he's like "i'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? you have to listen to me, love", btw i absolutely adore your stories, keep writing cause you're amazingg, mwah <3

a/n: of course!!! domestic lockwood is the best in my humble opinion. and im so glad you like my stuff so much, love you my dear <3 also taking this as an opportunity to apologise for the terrible titles for most of my fics i spend ages thinking but can never think of something good lmao

warnings: minor injury detail gn reader

Perfect - Anthony Lockwood

The library is the warmest room in the house, and by far your favourite, so it's no surprise when Lockwood finds you there, curled up on your designated armchair close to dozing. He smiles at you as he steps in, carrying a tray of something or other that he places down on the little coffee table before sitting in his armchair.

There's something about him today that makes you want to laugh. Maybe it's the way he's been mothering you all day because you're ill. Maybe it's the lack of Anthony Lockwood professionalism he has today, what with his crinkled hoodie and pink fluffy socks - aren't those the ones George has been looking for? He's so unlike his usual self today, but also inadvertently just like himself. A walking anomaly.

"How are you feeling now?" he asks quietly, as if your ears may explode if he speaks too loud. "Any better?"

"No better than I did seven minutes ago," you say with a laugh. "Lockwood, you don't have to keep a constant eye on me. You've got things to do."

"One of which being to take care of you," he says. "Which reminds me, are you finally going to let me take a look at that cut on your arm? It needs cleaning."

"I trust you with my life, but I do not trust you with the first aid kit. You'll shove half a tube of Germaline on it. Besides, I want to go to sleep, and here is cosier than my room."

He gives you a look, but it's halfhearted. "You can sleep once I've cleaned it. I've brought you some of your favourite biscuits and a brew in return."

You lift your head from where it had laid on your arms. "Doesn't sound like a very fair trade for you."

"Ah, I'll cope."

"Well, it doesn't hurt anymore. I'm sure it's healed amazingly and then I'll be back to my wonderful self in no time."

"I'm not leaving until I've at least taken a look at it. Then after that, you can have your tea and go to sleep." His grin is dazzling then. It's the kind he always uses when he's trying to get his way. "I'm your fully qualified doctor, remember? You've got to listen to me."

If you could be bothered, you could push for him to leave you in peace, but your head feels like it's full of water and you want to go to sleep. So, begrudgingly, you shift so that your arm hangs over the armrest of your chair.

The gentleness of Lockwood's hands as he takes your arm and slowly, carefully peels off the plaster you haphazardly placed on shocks you. His fingers are soft, holding your arm as if it's a delicate thing that could break at any moment.

He takes a minute to just look at the gash on your forearm. It's no longer than your index finger, cutting diagonally across halfway up, and it's still oozing some blood. The plaster is covered in it, and he deftly throws it into the bin before taking his little first aid kit from the tray he brought in. Its original purpose was for you to use it on him whenever he got banged up on cases, which was more often than not, but there's something strangely special about him using it on you now. It makes you feel a little giddy.

"You got this from a glass door, right?"

You're acutely aware of his touch as he shifts his grip so as to clean the cut. "Yeah. George knocked me into it by accident. I'm surprised this is all I got out of it."

His reply comes in the form of a quiet hum. As he cautiously cleans the wound, you watch as his brows furrow a little with concentration, creasing a little line between them, and his top lip twitches a little bit. A little quirk, you've noticed, when he's particularly invested in something. Usually, it's the latest gossip rag, in which he always loses sight of the real world, but now it's you. A small flutter arises in your chest.

He wipes over a small part of the gash, and you suck in a sharp breath. The sound makes him falter, the wipe hovering an inch above your skin as he looks up at you.

For a moment, then, you forget about the pain. Through his thick lashes, his eyes are brimmed with worry and apologies, but after insistence that you're fine, he continues to clean the fresh blood away.

"Let me put the cream on the plaster," you murmur. "You'll put way too much on."

He smiles. "Who's the qualified doctor here?"

"In all honesty, Skull is probably better at this kind of thing than you are."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"Do."

But, even still, he passes you the tube of Germaline and a long plaster. A moment later, you pass it back, and with delicate hands, he places it over the gash. It stings a little, and you hiss at the sudden cold, but the feelings are gone before the minute is even over.

"Perfect," he says with a soft, private smile. "All sorted."

His hand lingers, still holding your arm, and you suddenly feel more awake than ever. It's as if the tiredness has just melted away into the cushions of the armchair and down into the floor with only his touch, and you yearn for him to not let go. To stay exactly where he is.

And, as if having read your mind, he does.

If someone were to walk in, the scene would be strange. You, curled up in your seat with your arm hanging over the armrest, head resting on your own shoulder, and Lockwood, holding your arm as if it's some valuable thing, and simply looking at you with those expressive eyes of his.

"How do you feel?" he asks. His voice is a little breathy.

You're trying not to focus on the feeling of his fingers slipping down your arm until they almost - almost - slot in between yours. You shift slightly so that your head is in a position that isn't causing a crick in your neck, and it only grants a better view of him. His dark hair glowing bronze in the firelight, the ever so faint freckles on his nose, the dip in the left corner of his lip that insinuates another smile.

"A little better." The words almost catch in your throat when his fingers curl around yours just so. They don't hold yours, but they're so, so close. You can feel his pulse - or is that yours beating wildly out of control? "Do you have any paracetamol?"

He takes a second to realise what you've just said, and his hand leaves yours as he rakes about in the first aid kit for the painkillers. Out of pure mothering ability, he pops two out of the packet and hands them to you along with your mug of tea. Not the nicest thing to swallow them down with, but it'll do.

"You need to be more careful on cases," Lockwood says.

"Tell that to George. He's the one who bumped into me." Then, you shrug. "I suppose I shouldn't have gone when I've got the worst head cold I've had in yonks."

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and you notice how he's looking down at your hand.

It's a bold move, completely unlike you, but you reach for his hand, looping your fingers through his. His hand is warm and, yes, that's definitely your erratic pulse.

It takes a lot to catch Lockwood off guard, but that does the trick. For a moment, it's like he can't decide whether or not to look at your linked hands or at you, and you laugh at the sight of it.

"This is wholly inappropriate," he jokes. "Doctors and patients shouldn't do anything remotely like this."

You must be out of your mind entirely because you lean over and press a kiss to his knuckles. "What about that?"

The expression on his face reminds you of when the TV signal has gotten busted, and the four-person-army of Lockwood and Co, plus a glowing and crude Skull, are sitting around it angrily waiting for it to stop buffering. When the picture freezes, glitches a little bit, and buffers for even longer. You can almost see the buttons and wires in his mind, struggling to compute what you just did.

That's not to say you aren't the complete same. Truthfully, you shocked yourself with the kiss, and you sit here now, staring at the spot where your lips touched his skin.

You're ill, you remind yourself. Maybe he'll pass it off as delusion.

"Would you mind if I weren't your doctor for a little?"

Frowning a little, confused, you say, "No...?"

You've never seen a person move as fast as Lockwood does then. Before you know it, he's leaning over your entwined hands and his lips are brushing yours so softly, giving you room to move if it's something you don't want. But you do. You want it more than anything.

Everything seems to melt away at the moment you press your lips firmly onto his. The library, the fireplace filled with dancing orange flames, your horrible cold, the sting of anti-septic cream on your fresh cut. You're aware only of his lips on yours, his fingers twisted in yours, the warmth of his hand. Every nerve in your body feels as though it's about to combust. Your heart is practically beating through your chest. God, your hands are awfully sweaty.

Only a moment later, he pulls away, but his face stays so close to yours that you can feel his breath on your cheek.

You want to say something romantic, maybe something smart or snarky like you usually would, but all you can think of is, "You're going to get a cold now."

"It's just as well we have Skull, then, huh?" His laugh is soft and airy, and you could catch it between your lips if you so wished. "I'm sure I'll be fine."

His gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, and you're positive that if he weren't holding your hand right now, you'd implode in a burst of sparks and fireworks.

"Well, if you're so sure -"

Knowing where the sentence is going, he presses his lips to yours once more, and it's perfect.

[lamprophonia]

》 [ yandere!Jock. ] 《

character intro. masterlist.

yan!jock x gn!reader: random prompts. 1393 words. reader referred to as 'you'. general yandere content warning that goes for all my works, but nothing specific here.

DO NOT USE OR REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE.

author's note: was in the mood for a few random prompts. no real continuity between them, they're at different points within the larger relationship darling would have with elijah, i just wanted to write something slightly different than just headcanons :^) prompt list is linked to at the numbers.

☆ 23. "oh, don't worry, this isn't my blood. it's the blood of the person who touched you earlier today.”

at this point, you probably should have been used to the near constant presence of eastview's golden boy, following you around incessantly. still, someone putting their bag down and plopping down across from you at your library table made your head snap up.

you gave the visitor a cursory glance. unsurprisingly, it was him. elijah steele in all his glory.

surprisingly, or rather worringly, the front of his white t-shirt was spattered with reddish brown stains. blood. blood elijah didn't seem to be in any rush to clean or address in any other way as he just gave you the usual greeting of a nod and smile, pulling his books and his notes out.

you took out your headphones. "are you okay?" you asked plainly, not returning the greeting or the smile — your brows were furrowed in a concerned, confused, and almost stern look.

elijah's polite expression turned confused. "yeah? why wouldn't i be?" he chuckled. the look he gave you was one of intrigue with some sort of edge that felt almost patronizing.

"the blood," you responded, showing to the stains on his shirt.

elijah glanced down for a second, and his grin grew with understanding. "oh, yeah, i'm fine." he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "don't worry. it's not mine."

although he got back to doing his work without flinching, his statement made you pause. "what do you mean it's not yours?" you questioned, looking him over. the skin on his knuckles was split and also bleeding. not a good sign.

"i mean, it's not mine," elijah repeated and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. the condescension behind his smug little smirk was almost palpable.

"it's the blood of that asshole that tried to shove you around a few days back. you don't remember?" he chuckled, speaking as if the answer should have been obvious.

"excuse me?"

"you're excused."

"no, i mean–" you gave a exasperated sigh, "why is his blood on your shirt?" you questioned. elijah didn't seem to be bothered by your frustration. worse, the little shit seemed to be entertained by it, his smirk growing into a proper smile.

"because i beat him up?" again, he answered as if it should have been obvious.

"elijah– the– what? you can't–" you sputtered, your confusion outgrowing your concern. "you can't just, like, randomly beat people up." the words felt stupid coming out of your mouth. why were you being forced to lecture an adult on not getting into fights? this isn't some complicated rule of etiquette, it's normal behavior.

"oh, on the contrary," elijah shot back with a shit-eating grin. "i am perfectly capable of 'just, like, beating people up.'"

"elijah, listen–"

"in fact, i'd say i'm quite good at it."

"elijah–"

"probably the best in the school."

"listen–"

"besides," he cut you off for the third time in a tone so firm that it made you stop trying to get a word in and close your mouth, "it was hardly random. he cut in line. he shoved you. he deserved it."

elijah shrugged, and the two of you were left in a staredown. the guy from a few days back was rude, sure, but he didn't do anything worth getting his teeth knocked in, or whatever else the bloody knuckles elijah was sporting suggested he did.

you pondered leaving for a second, not really feeling the idea of just glaring at elijah in silence. unfortunately, he noticed your glance towards the door and his hand quickly moved to his bag, ready to grab it and follow you if you left.

little shit.

not like there was anywhere else you could study in... relative peace. "i'm not happy about this," you grumbled, ending the staring contest by going back to your books.

you heard him snicker as you were putting your headphones back in. "believe me, sweetheart, i noticed."

☆ 128. "just give it a little time! you'll get used to it, i know you will!"

the past few weeks have been interesting for you, to say the least. moving to a new high school in your senior year would have been an interesting enough experience on its own. getting confessed to by the most popular guy in said new high school would have pushed it over the top, especially since you were pretty sure he was the fakest person you've ever met.

now, to add further onto this truly fascinating experience, it seemed elijah steele did not take the hint when you rejected him. instead, he's been... shadowing you, in a very talkative manner.

he's been acting like the two of you were friends, even though you've had maybe two conversations with him — one of which being the one where you shot sown his advances and called him out on his fake demeanour, so, really, it is beyond you how he got besties from that interaction.

but alas, there he was. sitting down right at your table during lunch, as he has been doing for the past three days, with a smile that suggested he thought everything about this was perfectly normal.

needless to say, you thought otherwise.

"oh, holy fuck, look at him," elijah snickering breaks you out of your thoughts. you shake your head slightly, realizing that you were staring at him, and turn to where he's pointing.

it's another lunch table where a guy — one you know from some class, actually, although his name escapes you — is walking up to a girl — some popular senior who you only know from instagram stories and anecdotes from parties elijah insisted on telling you. her name is like alexandra or amelia or something else starting with a. the guy is looking nervous as all hell, which elijah seems to find hilarious.

"moron. he thinks he has a shot with her," elijah laughed quietly, his attention completely focused on the guy apparently trying to ask the girl — alissa? — out.

yours was instead focused on elijah. on how he looked at the small scene unfolding, how he nudged you in the shoulder as if this was an inside joke. how, despite his sweet demeanor with all his other friends, now he was eager to rope you into making fun of some random guy you might have chem with. or bio.

you knew he was fake, but the mean glint behind his eyes you were seeing now was making discomfort pool in your stomach.

"why are you here?" you blurted out without thinking and immediately regretted it when you saw how elijah's head snapped back to look at you. a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, a hint of condescension behind it.

"what do you mean? why wouldn't i be?" he chuckled.

"we're not friends," you answered. your tone was a bit more harsh than intended, but the words remain true nonetheless. whatever. maybe a bit of harsh is what this situation calls for. "i don't like you, i rejected you. why do you follow me around?"

now, he laughed. "oh please, of course we are. besides," elijah leaned back a bit in his seat, his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed as ever. "i figured you could use someone to show you around."

"you know, since you're new and all that." he shrugged, conveniently avoiding the other two points you made. a good excuse, if there ever was one. one that fit perfectly into the sweet, golden boy reputation elijah held at eastview. one that did not fit at all into the patronizing look he was giving you.

"i don't even like you," you reiterated. "stop following me around."

he rolled his eyes, the smile not fading from his face for a second. "give it a few weeks. you'll get used to it. i'm not that bad, promise." he actually had the audacity to wink.

you gave an exasperated sigh. elijah, however, looked downright entertained by your frustration, not minding the glare you were shooting him.

you turned your head, searching for an empty table you could move to. behind elijah, the scene he called your attention to earlier was concluding. his prediction appeared to be correct — the guy was walking away from the girl's table, looking dejected.

unfortunately for you, the cafeteria was full. you'd have to settle for ostentatiously avoiding your tablemate's patronizing looks for the rest of the lunch period. not that he seemed to care, content to just look at you with an amused smile on his face.

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [14]

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

Words: 15,441

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse, description of withdrawal, mentions of scars, jason's self-hatred, hurt/comfort, a little blood

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: Because I decided to start fixing things last chapter, I had to rewrite this entire chapter lmao so I'm sorry it's late!! I also split this chapter into 2 parts because it was over 30k words please help 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 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The next morning, Jason shoots awake from a nightmare but outside of the initial panic and rumbling heartbeat he almost feels too accustomed to, he’s confused. His eyes are on the dresser on the opposite wall and it takes him a minute to process how he even got here. The last clear thing he remembers is choking and not being able to breathe because Crane drugged him. Jason sucks in a few breaths, brows pulling together as he shakes the nightmare away and tries to piece together details from last night.

It’s all a little foggy and jumbled but he remembers being duct taped and Crane saying something about destroying the Titans and then you. Then he remembers the pump station, being tied up there. Then, he remembers you completely suited up and your hands on his cheeks, panic in your eyes.

Jason’s heart thunders again, realizing it was you that brought him back here.

You came to find him.

His head feels like it’s going to explode. A migraine is kicking in his skull as if it’s armed with a battering ram. The more he tries to remember details, the more his head hurts but he tries away. And he looks down, realizing he’s not in the Red Hood gear anymore but he has no memory of changing. Something about missing large pieces of time is scary and frustrating. So much could have happened and he just has no memory of it. And he’s thinking something went wrong, maybe he did or said something because you aren’t here and he knows what happened with you two. But, if you showed up to save him, you wouldn’t just leave unless you had a good reason. You’d always stay to make sure he were okay and then you’d probably tell him off and leave. But, you're not here.

What did he do now?

He puts his head in his hands, groaning loudly. His head starts to spin and his stomach cramps into knots. It twists and turns sending him into a nauseous spin. His bones feel wrong, like they want to vibrate out of his own skin and he feels sweaty but he’s cold. He’s frustrated and alone and devastated and going through withdrawal and everything sucks. He really had to go fuck it all up. Nothing was really all that bad, not compared to how it is now and he’d do anything to go back there. At this point, he might even take the paralyzing fear and panic attacks.

Jason sucks in a breath, lifting his head before he looks to the side of the mattress to try to will himself to get up but that’s when he sees a piece of paper. He plucks it up, unfolding it.

“Kidnappers: 0 You and me: 4              - Y/n <3”

Jason’s chest feels warm as a small smile starts to tug at his lips. Of all the things you could write in a note, it would be that. His eyes stay on the note and maybe you did have to go for another reason. If you were that mad at him, you wouldn’t leave him a note, not this note anyway. So, Jason folds it into a small square and puts it into the pocket of his sweatpants before he wills himself to get up.

Jason makes his way down the large staircase as his head feels like it’s wobbling. He knows withdrawal is tortuous. He knows that but he really didn’t expect it to feel like this. As much as he tries to not think about it, the only thing he wants is the drug. It’s the only thought that’s coming through clear as day, taunting about how much better he’ll feel if he just takes it. His head won’t feel like it’s exploding and he won’t want to peal his skin off of his bones. The cramps will vanish and he won’t feel the shaking in his hands anymore, just like old times. The back cramp will go away and his leg won’t be in pain. Jason knows it’s a bad idea, based on last night, but it’s growing more and more tempting with every step he takes down the stairs.

“Wow, you look like shit.”

Jason jumps as he reaches the bottom of the stairs, eyes shooting up to the bench in front of the end of the staircase. You're lying there, your phone above your face and your knees are bent, feet planted on the bench.

You didn’t leave?

“Fuck you.” Jason mutters, brows knitting together as he tries to figure out what the fuck is going on.

Why didn’t you leave?

You glance back to him from the corner of your eyes and he does look terrible. The dark circles are back, more prominent than they were the other night. The light in his eyes is gone and he’s really pale. He looks like he might actually be sick and you think his cheeks look a little more hollowed than they did before. His hair doesn’t even have the same volume that it normally does and it breaks your heart.

He’s going through it now and this time there actually might be nothing you can even offer to do to help. At least before, you could just offer to listen and be there for him. That was always something but this is different. He’s just going to have to ride it out and you feel horrible for it.

You grin softly to yourself, typing away at your screen before you sit up, planting your feet on the floor. “It’s true.” You shrug your shoulders. You bend down, sliding a white box out from under the bench before you pick it up. “Got donuts, picked up a few of your favorites.” You hold out the box for Jason but his stomach just twists at the thought of food.

“Not hungry.” He nearly grimaces as he looks to his own shoes.

You nod, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, it’s called withdrawal. You should eat anyway. You need some sugar, hence donut. Plus, dough is filling. It might help.” You extend your arms further. “Eat.”

Jason hesitates, looking to the right before he hangs his head, letting out a sigh and then walks over to you. You're one of the most persistent and persuasive people Jason has ever met and he is under no condition or mood to try and even argue with that. You’ll win anyway. You always win in some way. He sits beside you while you open the box, giving him one of the four donuts that are left. Jason raises a brow, wondering if you've eaten.

“Here.” You grab a bottle of water from the side of the bench and hand that to him. “You also need some water.”

Jason takes it from you slowly as he grows more and more confused. What the ever-living-fuck happened last night that he does not remember? The last thing he knew, you two were not speaking. You might have rescued him but this is weird, even for you. You're sturdy in your beliefs and sturdy in your own words. You're being awfully nice and it’s freaking Jason out. He’s starting to think he might be running a fever and maybe this is all just a very vivid dream. You have no reason to be this nice to him at the moment.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You question, your brows furrowing together as Jason just looks at you as if you're some sort of math problem he can’t figure out.

“What the fuck is going on?” Jason finally asks, looking at the donuts and then back to you.

Your heart skips a beat and you knew he’d be confused. That’s a little bit of why you're doing it. A little bit of payback for the hell he’s been putting you through. But, if you wanted to be brutally honest, the guilt of saying you were giving up him is eating at you from the inside out. It is one of the only things you think about because it doesn’t matter that you didn’t mean it because Jason thinks you do. Why wouldn’t he? You literally said it out loud. And then he got kidnapped and drugged. You don’t want to abandon him, drug or not. And last night you got to see a part of the old Jason you thought maybe didn’t come back when he came back to life. You thought maybe, the pit kept a part of his soul. But, last night, he was him. Drugged and high, but him. The Jason you know and love. So, you're here, being nice and making sure he’s eating and getting water because he should have someone in his corner anyway.

Last night, Dick said you and Gar did a good job and you suddenly understood Jason’s entire motive. The weight of the world was placed on his shoulders by Bruce and made worse by being a replacement to Dick. That wasn’t Dick’s fault, but he could have done more. And it was never about having someone to help him lift the weight, it was always about Jason needing to find his own footing outside of the approval of who he looked up to most. That’s just…a lot easier said than done. He needed the one person who gave him everything, not to abandon him but he did anyway. You understand his motive and you're thinking, abandonment is the worst possible option for him. It always was. And you should have known, because it was always the worst option for you, too.

You offer a cheeky smile, faking it entirely. “Is it freaking you out?”

“Yeah, kind of.” Jason snips.

He’s thinking he’s either running a fever, he’s hallucinating, he died again, or he’s in some type of coma thanks to the drug Crane gave him. This whole thing just feels weird and the you he knows would be telling him off and calling him a shithead for getting himself into this mess and then immediately saying it wasn’t actually his fault. Jason knows it is. But, you always tell him it’s not. This time though, you're just offering him food as if nothing happened the last few days. He would love if you two could just move on as if nothing happened, but the reality is that it did happen. Last night and the night before happened. You aren’t nearly as forgiving as he is.

You let out a laugh, leaning your head back. “Good.”

You do not want him to know how worried you are about him or about your own guilt. He’s already going to have a rough few days getting the drug out of his system and you don’t want to make it any worse. At this point, the only thing you want is for things to go back to some type of normal. You know you have to talk and sort it out but you want to feel normal, without all the weight, for just a few minutes even. You want a break from everything. And Jason was always your safe haven when things got too heavy and too loud. He was always good at carrying the weight that didn’t belong to him and blocking out the noise.

Jason's face drops but a smile slowly creeps onto his face. “Are you fucking with me?”

You snicker softly. “I mean, you do need food and water, but yeah.” You nod your head. “I’m always fucking with you.” You say softly as you roll your shoulders.

Jason’s entire chest starts to swarm with a vibrating warmth. “Fuck you.” Jason quips, a gentle smile on his lips before he picks up a donut, eyeing it softly. The last thing he wants right now is food.

“Just eat it, Jay. It’ll help.” You say softly, seeing the hesitation on his face.

Jason shakes his head and he needs to do anything else and not eat, or at least try to distract himself to eat. He can’t concentrate on much but he’s curious enough as to why you're still here. You're fucking with him as usual, but he does not deserve your kindness or you trying to take care of him. He should be doing it on his own, after everything he did. To all of you. This isn’t right. Yet, you're still somehow here.

“Have you been here the whole time?” Jason asks.

“No.” You answer simply, swinging your feet slightly. “Gar came to bring me clothes so we went to get some food down the street real quick and got extra for you. Came right back though just in case you woke up.” You explain, looking back to him with a soft smile.

You didn’t want to go far. You didn’t want Jason to think you would just up and leave again. It has to be different this time. Jason was an apologizing mess last night and being held captive is traumatic. You were never going to leave without making sure he was okay and seeing if he did want to have that conversation for real. It might be heavy but maybe it’ll make things kind of, sort of, normal again. But, Gar insisted on breakfast and you weren’t going to disappoint him again.

“Why the fuck did you come anyway?” Jason asks before he finally gets the courage to take a bite of the donut. “You said not to contact you and shit.”

He doesn’t say it out of spite this time. He says it because it’s true and as mad and as hurt as he was, he also gets it. Now that he’s sober, he doesn’t even blame you. He thinks you should have done that from the start, even if it’s killing him on the inside. The last good thing about him was you and he destroyed every part of that. You don’t deserve that but you're here anyway. Offering him food and acting normal. One of the things he always really liked about you is that he could never really figure you out.

You turn your full attention to him, your heart sinking with any hope of having that conversation today. If he doesn’t remember anything, he doesn’t remember what you said or you seeing his scars or helping him or him asking you to stay. It’s not that you want him to remember any of it. In your opinion, he’s lucky not to remember most of it. Maybe he won’t see it that way, but you do. Even if it doesn’t quite work out for you.

“You don’t remember much of last night, do you?” You ask and Jason shakes his head shamefully. “I’ll always come find you.” You say casually but your voice is just above a whisper. “You’d do it for me.” You shrug easily and your words make Jason look to your neck where he can see the silver peaking out from under your hoodie. “You, uh, you said to bring you here so I did. You asked me to stay so I did. You, uh, you….you were apologizing a lot so I said we could talk later if you still wanted to.” You tug your sleeves over your hands.

Jason nods his head, slowly making his way through his food with a few sips of water. That explains a lot actually. He isn’t sure exactly what he was like last night, but he’s imagining it wasn’t too pretty if he had to ask you to stay. And maybe having a conversation is why you stayed, a sense of hope, maybe. If you're willing, he’d love to talk about it for once but his head also hurts and his spine feels like it wants to crack out of his back. The withdrawal is making it hard enough to even have this conversation with you. He thinks if you’ll talk, it should be when he can actually participate properly. You deserve that much.

“Thanks for staying.” Jason says quietly. “Don’t fucking deserve.” Jason lets out a scoff as he shakes his head.

You furrow your brows as you turn to face him, pulling your knee on the bench so the bottom of your shoe rests against your other leg off the bench. “You know, you should know by now that I think you deserve the world, Jay.”

“Why?” Jason huffs and a part of him is getting pissed that you even think that. Do you not understand the gravity of the things he’s done? “Look at what I’ve become!”

“It’s not really you.” You say softly. “And I know you know that.” You nod your head quickly. “But you never thought you deserved better. I know shit gets bad for you and always has been. But, that shit never mattered to me. You did.” You say and Jason thinks he just swallowed his own heart. Did? “Do.” You state firmly. “You do. Anti-fear drug you isn’t the real you.”

Maybe the anti-fear drug version of him isn't really him but Robin wasn't either. Living in a fancy mansion with money and everything he could have wanted. Following directly behind Bruce and Dick, trying to fill their shoes when their viewpoints are so wildly different. Bruce can try all he wants but Batman was born from vengeance. He got to go home to a cave underneath his fancy mansion with all of his tech Jason couldn't even dream of touching before. Bruce was raised by a fucking butler that was still on Bruce's payroll. Batman was born because Bruce's rich parents were killed in cold blood. And Bruce had all of the means to make Batman happen. That's great, Jason fully believes that's great, but it's different.

Bruce didn't see the dealers or sex workers or the pimps or addicts or traffickers in the flesh. Bruce didn't see that some of those people "breaking the law" were just doing what they had to do to survive because the system was never meant to help them. Jason might have some resentment towards his dad for everything, but he also knows his dad was trying because job after job didn't work out like it should have. He was down and out, but he tried. He was an asshole and he was abusive, but maybe some of how he ended up like that was circumstances. It doesn't make it right, but maybe that's part of it. Jason understands his dad was trying to provide in some way and it turned him into an abusive prick and then it got him killed.

Jason knows his mom's addiction didn't help and it didn't make her the best mom. But, he also knows that that was her way of trying to provide because she used to use to function and the addiction set in. She took them to survive in her own way. His uncle drank to survive. That's how it is sometimes. And that's what he saw, everyday, and not just from his own family. It's what he knew and he also grew up knowing, no one is going to help them. Not even Batman. They are on their own.

Jason grew up knowing sometimes people do "bad" things in order to survive and provide, but Bruce never saw that first hand so his morals on Batman are entirely skewed and bias for the sake of upholding the law and putting "bad people" away. But, Jason's views were always landing in a grey area that not all "bad people" are actually bad and deserve to be thrown away. Robin gave him magic but he also had to give up some of his own morals and beliefs in order to wear the cape and mask.

Robin was never really him, either.

“Robin wasn't the real me either.” Jason scoffs.

Your eyes narrow softly at him because it's such an odd comment coming from him. Robin was everything to him before and maybe you do get it. It got him killed, it's different now. There's a lot of bad blood stained over Robin but...you don't entirely think that's true.

“That’s not true. The whole, mansion shit, yeah.” You laugh softly. “But, wanting to be the voice for people who get left behind? Yeah, that’s still you, Jay.” You shrug your shoulders. “You always liked kicking ass, people who deserve it because they did something wrong. Not because you like to fight. I mean, you’re argumentative as fuck, but physically violent, not so much. It’s a misconception that you play into because it’s easier than letting people see the real you or whatever. Robin let you be this hero and you had to roll with Batman and shit, but…you got to help people.” You shake your head. “Like me.” You clear your throat. "That's you." You offer a soft nod at him, chewing the inside of your cheek.

As far as Jason can see, he's never really helped you. Not really. He thinks he's only made everything worse. Between getting kidnapped and making you lose sleep and dying and now everything else. He's pretty sure you were always better off without him. How the hell do you think he actually helped you?

“How the fuck do you figure I helped you?” Jason shakes his head and he definitely is not well enough to be having this conversation.

You think of every way Jason has saved your life, some of the times a little too dark to share with him at the moment. But, you think about them and you think about all the other times where he's helped you, even with small stuff like getting something down from a cabinet. You've never told him but you think one of the reasons you are who you are today is because of him.

You pull the sleeves of your hoodie over your hands. "I felt like maybe the stuff with Jerry was my fault. Spent a lot of time thinking that but...one of the first things you told me was that he was a piece of shit and I didn't deserve it. You didn't even know me. But, it helped and you never made me feel like what happened to me was ever my fault. And uh, you trained me so I wouldn't be scared to leave the tower. Maybe the knives is a thing...or maybe it's because you trained me. Sparred with Gar the other day, I still won. Because you trained me." You suck in a shaky breath, pausing softly. "Um...and I just...I'm alive today because of you." You nod at him once, seeing Jason's face wanting to twist to question it. "So, maybe Robin wasn’t completely the real you, but Robin was enough of the real you. You put yourself into Robin. And you can put yourself into Red Hood. Without Bruce. Without Batman.” You rush your words, making sure Jason can't get a word in. “So, I guess, I’m just saying that you always deserve better, even if you don’t believe me. And I just hope you understand that one day, Jay.”

“Why didn't you ever tell me any of that before?" Jason asks, turning to match your position as his right shin touches yours.

Truthfully, it all seemed too honest. A little too scary to tell him what kind of impact he had on you. It’s more than that, there’s more you haven’t told him as a way to protect yourself and maybe even him. You always felt if you told him those things, maybe it’d change. Maybe it would change how he viewed you and maybe it would change how you felt he viewed you. Maybe he’d feel some sort of obligation and you hate when people feel obligated to you for something. You should know Jason never does something for someone strictly out of obligation, but you feared it anyway. And if you told him, what happens when he doesn’t come home?

Saying everything out loud makes it real. And he didn’t come home anyway.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know.” You keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing if you think too much about everything, the tears will start again. “Uh…I’ll always stay if you ask me to.” You nod your head softly.

Jason watches you carefully and he could always tell when there was more on your mind but it looks like it is physically paining you to even talk about it. The guilt starts to take over and Jason wants you to not be in pain anymore. He'll take it if that's what he has to do, he doesn't care anymore.

“You really shouldn’t.” Jason nearly mutters the words.

You know him better than anyone and that was always what he feared. You know him better than anyone which means he’s more susceptible to getting hurt. He’s already hurt himself enough for the both of you but then everything with Excellent Gotham happened and now you're the one torn between him and everyone else. He’s hurt because you're hurt and that’s all this is turning into.

Maybe a small part of him regrets the two of you, as thankful as he is you're here. As much as he appreciates your company and your kindness, he has crossed the line and maybe had you never gotten together, you wouldn’t be the one in pain. Maybe had you not gotten together, this whole thing would be easier for him. He wouldn’t feel like he let another person down and pushed them to their very brink of existence. He wouldn’t feel like he exposed himself too much to the elements. He’d still feel safe in his bubble of self-destruction and self-hatred. It wouldn’t hurt you.

You're too good anyway.

So, he pushes out of some painful mix of self-preservation and self-destruction.

“You know, uh, I think about that…night with Deathstroke.” You swallow thickly. “Not…not the kidnapping so much anymore but…after.” You stress, looking to your leg and picking at the hem of your pants. “In the bathroom and I don’t know. You pushed and gave me every reason to, uh, to run like I usually do and I know…we did do what we do best in the end but…not…ya know?” You shake your head, looking back at him. “You pushed and I stood there anyway and told you that you matter to me. And it was like…the first time I ever felt like I could stay…if you’d have me.”

Jason’s heart starts to ache from inside of his chest like he’s just been stabbed. Did he make you feel unwanted? That was never it. He was just scared and pushing always seemed easier and you never put up a fight about it. He thought you were on the same page of pushing and running. You both did it until you couldn’t. The risk of everything you both ever feared didn’t seem to matter anymore so you both decided to stay and Jason can’t decide if that was for better or worse. But, he’s looking at the distant look in your eyes and he’s thinking maybe it was for the worse for you. You always made him better.

“Even as a friend. Like I said, I agreed with you and we did what we do best.” You shake your head. “And you did.” You nod your head. “You showed up to my room the next night and I just…” You suck in a deep breath, looking up to the ceiling and back to him. “I knew I could stay. I didn’t have to run from you.” You tug your sleeves over your hands. “So, um…I know you want to,” You nod your head with understanding but your heart is breaking with every second that passes. “But, can…can you please not push me away this time? Please, Jay.” You offer him a sad and weak smile as the lump in your throat starts to grow. “I know things are complicated right now but you’re my best friend and I really miss you.” Your voice cracks as water starts to brim your eyes.

Even after everything, you have a way of getting him to cave. Pushing has always been his best defense mechanism. It has always worked and it has always been easy. It has always hurt him, which was fine because at least it was self-inflicted. But, you make the whole thing hard because it doesn’t just hurt him. It hurts you, too. And Jason knows how badly it hurt when you left. Maybe part of making amends is letting go of bad coping mechanisms. Maybe it’s doing things that hurt and are scary. He does love you and he does miss you, too. He’s tired of being alone and he’s tired of being in pain. And he's tired of putting you through pain. So, he nods.

“I miss you, too." Jason's voice is rough and low but honest and sincere, earning him an almost relieved sigh from you. "I just fucked everything up this time.” Jason says quietly. “Really fucked it up.” Jason nods. “With you and the Titans. How the fuck do I come back from that?”

“You apologize and get clean.” You shrug. “I mean, I’m the only one who really understands it so you just…have to try.”

“That’s it? I try and they welcome me back with open arms?” Jason scoffs at the thought. It’s never that easy. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

"I mean, I'm still welcome to be a Titan and I'm killing people. All of you almost killed Gar." You nod your head quickly. "So, they have to welcome you back because otherwise they're just hypocrites." You offer him a cheeky smile. "You just have to try, Jay. And if that doesn't work, then fuck em." You shrug your shoulders sarcastically. "You still got me and you got Gar." A genuine smile comes to your lips as you rest your hand on top of his.

Jason thinks the simple act alone just lit his entire body on fire so he smiles back, subtle but there. "Yeah, alright." Jason manages a soft chuckle as he shakes his head. “When are you going back?” Jason asks softly, not really wanting you to leave.

“Oh…uh, well, you were just drugged so I thought…I’d hang around if that’s okay.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you pull your hand back into your lap.

Liar.

“What the fuck is going on with you?” Jason asks bluntly. “Don’t pull that bullshit about how you’re just worried about me or whatever. Something’s going on.” Jason can always tell when you're lying and he swears part of that is because you almost never do.

You chew the inside of your cheek and he’s right, something in going on. You've been thinking a lot about how you finally understand it. The whole Bruce and Dick thing. You finally get it and you actually hate it. Of course, understanding Jason is always nice but you hate that you feel that way. Every day since you've watched Jason deteriorate over Robin, you swore you would never be like him or Dick and yet here you are. In the same damn position. And you won’t let that happen. And the more you sit and the more you think about it, the more you wonder if the reason you threw in the towel over Jason is because of your obligation to the Titans.

You have a bigger obligation to Jason and yourself but maybe that played a little bit of a hand. Maybe your loyalty runs a little deeper than you thought because Dick saved your life and brought you into this world. But, you don’t want that. Something has to fucking give and you're not sacrificing your views or your morals anymore. Maybe it’ll be for the better and maybe it’ll be for the worse, but at least you know you're doing something you can live with. At least you're doing it because it’s what you believe in.

You're also still a little mad that Dick was willing to sacrifice Jason if last night wasn't a trap and Crane went off the deep end. There is still that.

“I am, uh, mad at Dick. Shocker, I know.” You crunch your nose before rolling your eyes. “But, um…he said we did a good job last night and I just…felt so validated and I hated that. Because it was more than just being validated, it was being validated by him. And he said it could have been a trap and he's right but he didn't fucking stop me from going. It could have been a trap and I could have been killed, blah blah blah, right? Well, he let me fucking go alone. He didn’t pressure Gar for information. So, I just…I don’t wanna go there. It doesn’t even feel like home anymore fucking anyway. So…yeah.” You rush your words, trying to play it off because you don't particularly want to talk about it.

“So…you’re mad at Dick so you’re just...switching sides?” Jason questions, not really sure he understands why you would do that. "And what the hell would you have done if it were a trap? Hate fucking saying it, but he's kind of right." Jason nearly grimaces at the thought of agreeing with Dick, but it could have been a trap for the Titans. You had no way of knowing otherwise.

“Was I ever really not on your side?” You quip. “No, it’s…” You suck in a breath and you shrug your shoulders. “I know that if you stay off of the drug then you’re you again. That’s where I want to stand and I want to be here when you are clean. You’re where I always want to be.” You nearly whisper. "And, if it were a trap, I knew that if I showed up, you'd do everything in your power to get me out of there. It would never be a trap for me, just the Titans. So, I wasn't worried. I know Excellent Gotham was an accident. Shit happens, but I'm almost always safe with you and I know that." You offer a soft but closed smile. "You and me."

Jason pauses and he thinks back to the day he walked onto the roof. He thinks he’s starting to feel that way again. Worthless, useless, damaged, broken, unloved, unworthy, filled of poison. Everything comes back to him. But, he’s sitting next to you and he also remembers you that day.

You were the only one that stood up for him and you were the only one who came out to the roof to try to talk him down. You're always the only one, if he has no one else, he has you. And he remembers you literally telling him that if you're alive, he’ll never have to be alone. You broke up with him and he’s still not alone. Maybe you're crazy for it but Jason knows in order for you to still be with him, in any context, you're having to sacrifice a lot. In order to make sure you keep that promise to him, you're the one sacrificing yourself and your friends. For some reason, you believe in him so maybe it’s time Jason takes a step back and starts sacrificing, too and believing in himself. If you can, he owes it to you to try, too. It’s supposed to be him and you.

"I'm still really sorry for that." Jason lets out a breath. "But, next time, can you bring someone with you in case it is a trap?" Jason lets out a soft laugh. "I'd never let some shit happen to you but, just in case." Jason nods head quickly, the white streak flopping around slightly.

You let out a laugh as you look down and then back to him. "Yeah, okay because you asked so nicely." You say sarcastically.

Jason shakes his head but his chest is starting to feel a little better. “I’m gonna make it up to you, alright?” Jason says sternly. “Don’t know how yet, but I’m going to. I fucking owe you.”

You offer a soft smile. “I expect a lot of homecooked meals and for you to drive me around.” You nod as a cheeky smile starts to come to your face.

Jason lets out a soft laugh, tilting his head down before he looks back you. “I’m not your personal fucking chef or your chauffeur.”

“Could be so fun, Jay.” Your eyes widen as you shake your head teasingly at him. “Um…” Your brows furrow. “Withdrawal sucks and I know you know that. So, um…if you want to go to Crane and try to get one or two inhalers so you can ween yourself off instead of cold turkey, I get it.” You nod your head. “Um…I mean, I can help if you want.”

Jason nearly does a double-take. “This whole time you’ve been telling me to get off of it and now you’re telling me you’ll help me take it?”

“I also don’t want you miserable.” You state. “I can like hide the inhalers for you and monitor when you get more.”

Jason pauses for a second and maybe it’s a bad idea. The drug makes him a skeleton of who he really is but this is torture, just sitting here. He’s not really sure how he’s supposed to deal with feeling like this for days or maybe weeks. He doesn’t know how long this withdrawal is going to last. All he knows is that it is fucking exhausting and painful. But, maybe if you can help, he won’t fall back into Crane’s hands. If you're willing to stay, he can try.

“Yeah, then I'll be fucking done with his psycho ass.” Jason clears his throat. “Feel like fucking shit.” Jason scoffs. “Meet back here then?”

You nod your head softly. “Yeah, I gotta get back and let Gar know what’s going on, I guess deal with Dick. Blah blah blah.” You laugh softly. “Just…text me if something happens.” You get to your feet. “Don’t do anything fucking stupid until I get back.”

“Don’t do anything fucking stupid while you’re gone.” Jason quips. “Ya know, like using the R blades to kill some fuck.”

You gain a cheeky smile. “Hey, you’re still wearing a bat symbol.” You point at him. “I’m just being an asshole, just like you. Learned from the best, bAbE.” You snark right back at him as you watch him gain that half-cocked, toothy smirk that always made you feel alive. “I’ll be back and try not to take it until I get back.” You nod once at him, keeping your own smirk before you turn on your heels and head for the exit.

You head back to the manor, knowing Dick and Kory will want to know where Jason and Crane are. If you were being honest, you're surprised Gar has been able to keep it a secret. You know it’s a very big ask for him not to tell Dick where or the password into the tablet which you had Gar bring you when he came by just to be sure Dick didn’t get into it while Gar was gone. Letting them know where Crane is, is all fine and well, the issue comes to Jason.

While you appreciate that Dick thinks you and Gar did a good job, there is still a bitterness hugging your chest about the whole thing. It shouldn’t have been up to you. You said you were done and you should have been able to be done but not when no one else is going to do something. You know you never would have taken a backseat anyway, not with Jason being kidnapped and held hostage, but it should have been an option. Jason was in trouble and it was Dick’s responsibility to do something about it. You don’t know where Dick’s head is with Jason now so the last thing you want is for him to know where Jason is hiding out and where Crane is. The last thing you want to do is even work side-by-side with him anymore and if you were a worse person, you’d just kill Crane now and get it all over with. Dick could deal with the cleanup if there is any to be had.

You stop right into your room as soon as you get to the manor. If you're going to help Jason and you're going to stand beside him, you want to be physically there. If you're ditching the Titans, then staying here isn’t really an option. So, you pack a bag with clothes and a charger for your phone before stopping by Jason’s room and picking a few of his favorite pieces of clothes and books. Once you have everything you need, you make your way to the Batcave to grab the case for your suit and extra knives and blades.

Dick, Kory, and Gar are all in the Batcave when you make your way down there. They’re surrounded by the Batcomputer, coming as no surprise to you. But, then they all turn around, eyes landing on you and you tug your backpack harder over your shoulder.

“Yes?” You ask softly.

“How is he?” Gar asks, hope in his eyes as he spins in his chair and gets to his feet.

“Going through withdrawal, looks like shit.” You huff before sucking in a breath. “Got him to eat a little bit though.” You offer a soft smile.

“Does that mean he’s done?” Dick questions.

“Done with the drug, Crane, or Red Hood? Because I’m thinking those are three different answers.” You quip, holding a bit of snark in your voice.”

“All three.” Dick’s voice grows defensive and you were fine last night. Suddenly, you hang out with Jason for one night and you have an attitude again? Seriously?

“No, yes, and probably not. Didn’t talk about Red Hood.”

“Wait, he’s gonna keep taking it?!” Gar practically yells in confusion.

“No.” You answer simply, shaking your head. “He’s just getting a few more inhalers so he can ween off it instead of cold turkey. Withdrawal is bad enough.” You look to Dick who looks like he’s about to have a stroke. “It was my idea if that helps.”

“What?!” Kory and Gar yell at the same time.

“Why would you encourage him to keep taking it?” Dick grabs the bridge of his nose and he's thinking you should have come with migraine medication when he found you in the alley.

“Because quitting some drugs cold turkey can kill you and I don’t know if Crane’s drug falls into that category or not and neither does he. I’d rather we not find out the hard way.” You answer simply, rolling your shoulders.

Gar finally notices the backpack and his heart starts to sink. He’s really hoping you're just bringing Jason some of his stuff and you're not leaving. They’ve already lost so many people, he doesn’t want someone else walking out on them. He knows it has to be really hard for you, but it’s hard for everyone.

“Why do you have a backpack?” Gar asks cautiously.

You tug it over your shoulder a bit more. “Um…I’m gonna stay with Jason for a bit.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I promise, I was not leaving without telling you. I’m just trying to make sure he’s gonna be alright.” You roll your shoulders and a part of you almost offers to let him come with.

It could be just the three of you again but you would never put Gar in a position where he feels like he has to choose between you and Jason and the Titans. Inviting him, feels like it would put him in that position. And you have no idea what Jason would think of it anyway so you bite it back.

“Are you sure?” Gar asks.

You nod your head softly and you don’t want Gar in the middle of your annoyance with Dick. You know you’ll get over it eventually anyway. “Yeah, maybe I can get something out of him anyway, about if Crane is planning something big and if so, what.” You play it off, realizing this does give you that opportunity.

Dick nods once. “You could just tell us where he’s hiding out and where Crane is.” Dick states simply.

“No.” You shake your head as you start walking over towards the display case where your suit is still in the suitcase beside it.

Dick turns to face you, annoyance written on his face.”Excuse me?”

“I said no.” You say simply. “If you want to argue about it, argue with yourself cause I'm not anymore.” You shrug your shoulders.

Dick sucks in a breath and he can’t believe you’re really doing this again. “Fine, can we speak privately?” Dick asks.

“Come on, Gar.” Kory walks up to Gar, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go find Conner and Blackfire.” Kory offers a soft smile before they walk off.

You grab the suitcase, walking back towards Dick and then past him. You're ready to get out of here and you know this is going to cause more problems than it’s maybe worth. But, at the end of the day, you swore you’d protect Jason at all costs. Too many people left him exposed to the elements, and you're not going to do that. Dick had his chance to help, too and he left the both of you in the pouring rain and wonders why you’re feeling abandoned.

“I thought you were on our side.” Dick shakes his head. “What’s going on? Did something happen?” Dick asks, this time his voice sounding a little bit more concerned and you almost feel guilty.

“Dude, come on.” You scoff. “I’m on whatever side gets Jason home and safe. You should know that. Nothing happened I just….” You shake your head. “You could have fucking helped last night and you didn’t. For all we knew, Crane could have lost his shit and was gonna kill him.”

“But that didn’t happen.” Dick states. “You said last night he was just tied to a chair and you got him out of there. You and Gar worked together and you both did a good job last night. You didn’t need help.”

“It’s not about if I needed it!” You yell in desperation. “I fucking found his body! Do you really think I’m just fucking fine with that now that he’s alive? Do you really think I want to find him like that again? On my fucking own? That’s what you set me up to do last night. Yeah, he was 'just' tied to a chair, but I also know that fucks with your head, too. He’s your brother who needs fucking help but the only people who are willing at all costs are Gar and me. So, no.” You shake your head. “I’m not gonna tell you until I know he’s safe. You can figure it out and I’ll talk to him anyway. But, I’m not telling you.” You look to the right and then back to Dick. "Did you ever think that he just needs you to show up for him and not out of obligation? Bruce isn't here and this wasn't your fault like Deathstroke. Jason Todd is not hard to figure out."

Dick hangs his head for a second, realizing maybe you make a good point. You shouldn't have had to be the one to go alone. But, Dick didn't even think of the possibility that Jason could have been in real danger. He didn't think of what would happen if he was and you were the one to find him again. Dick's realizing maybe, just maybe, Crane might have had a point a few days ago. Maybe he did abandon Jason.

“I’m sorry.” Dick admits, catching you off-guard. “You’re right. It shouldn’t have been up to and I didn’t think about that.” Dick looks to the ground and back to you. “We’ve all been under a lot of stress lately and we’ve all been through a lot. This is hard for you. We all just want this to be over. I should have gone with you.”

"Thank...you?" You question, a little confused where this version of Dick is coming from. "Look, I think any risk is worth saving him. Last night, though, you made me think that isn't the case for you. So, I can't tell you in order to protect him. But, I'll try to get information about Crane anyway and tell you." You nod your head, swallowing your own pride. "I still want Crane dead and you want him brought in, so we're on the same side there." You start to walk towards the stairs. "Anything else or...can I go?" You ask, feeling, for some reason, obligated to.

"You can go." Dick lets out a sigh. "At least keep up with Gar, he's worried about the two of you." Dick warns, having to suck up his pride, too and put some trust into you this time. You offer him a closed-mouth smile before giving him a thumbs up and heading back upstairs.

Jason is making his way to the pump station where Crane is setting up for their next steps and his teeth grind while his heart races. He swears he has to be running a fever with his head feeling warm, heavy, and cloudy. He isn’t sweating but something about his skin feels like it’s almost been dunked into a pit of oil and it makes his skin crawl. There’s an ache in his back that isn’t painful but isn’t uncomfortable like it’s on the verge of a paralyzing cramp that just won’t come. His hands are starting to shake and the only thing he wants is the damn drug.

There’s a bit of worry in thinking about the drug though. He can’t be who he has been over the last week. He cannot go back to that but he is desperate and scared. Everything is in agony and the guilt is starting to weigh his feet down. The regret feels like cinderblocks resting on his heart. He’s scared he won’t be able to stop and he’s scared if he goes right back to the drug, Crane will get him right back under his wing. He finds himself thinking maybe that’s why you offered to help anyway. So, Crane couldn’t manipulate him anymore. If the only person he’s talking to is you while he’s high, then he doesn’t have too much to worry about. You're not going to manipulate him into killing innocent people. That’s all Crane. So, he sucks up his fear and walks right in, ready to nearly demand the drug from Crane.

Crane has a jackhammer in hand, trying to get through the concrete on the floor. Jason watches him with more aggravation starting to flood into his system. Jason walked in with a mission, sights set on getting one or two inhalers and that’s it. But, he’s standing here and all he wants to do is scream. The anger side of withdrawal is peaking through and he’s thinking he’s going to finally snap if Crane doesn’t hand over an inhaler. The jackhammer is making the headache worse and the shaking starts to intensify. He doesn’t really care about anything else as desperation starts to take over.

“I need more!” Jason yells over the sound of the jackhammer. He thinks his head might explode if Crane doesn’t knock it off.

Crane stops and rests the jackhammer on the ground before looking up to Jason. He gains a delighted smile as he walks closer to Jason, stretching his arms out to his sides.

“You’re back.” Crane says before gesturing his arms inward. “Come on, bring it in.”

The last thing Jason wants to do is hug him. This insane psychopath kidnapped him, drugged, and held him hostage. Jason’s ex-girlfriend had to rescue him. And Crane thinks Jason wants to not only be around him but hug him? He’s lost his fucking mind.

“I need another inhaler, Crane.” Jason demands, keeping his footing a few feet away from Crane.

“Well,” Crane starts as he plops his arms back to his sides. “You’re gonna have to cook it yourself. I’m fresh out.” Crane states as he goes to turn around.

Jason's heart plummets and he’s desperate for more. Crane just can’t be out. He’s the one that’s been having cooks make it. How the fuck is he out? He can’t just be out. So, Jason starts walking closer, spotting a large drum barrel.

“What about that?” Jason points to it.

“That…is too concentrated.” Crane states. “Deadly in its uncut form.”

Jason can feel himself growing more and more aggravated and panicked. It’s more than just the fear creeping in but instead, it’s the fear of withdrawal and the idea of never having the drug again. That’s what he’s starting to panic about. He knows he’s getting off of it. He has to if he wants to get some part of his life back. Crane isn’t stable and while he’s helped him this far, last night happened. Jason needs to get off the drug but he really doesn’t want to do it cold turkey. This is literal hell right now.

“This is a fuck show.” Jason lets out an annoyed sigh as he starts walking closer to Crane to pass by him and leave.

“Jay.” Crane states but it’s more in a warning tone. Jason wants to combust, the nickname sending the anger from the withdrawal into a spin. No one calls him that. “Jaydog.” Crane lifts his voice this time as Jason turns around to face him. “Take heart, my friend. We are just a few swift strokes away from the sweetest comeback the world has ever seen.” Crane leans over on the jackhammer, a menacing look in his eye. “I mean, they’re gonna make a biopic about us. How we met, our ups, our downs…”

“How the Titans wiped us out?” Jason cuts him off knowing the Titans are coming after them and Crane doesn’t seem to be much help.

You can say whatever you want but right now, he’s still being targeted by the Titans because he’s spent the last week targeting them. Jason doesn’t think for a second he can come back from that. That’s why you're suddenly with him through this. A barrier against the Titans.

“Do you remember why we’re here?” Crane asks.

“The details are hazy, Crane. You zombified me, remember that?” Jason quips back and that part is biting at the back of his head.

Crane didn’t have to do it but he did it anyway. He drugged him, held him hostage, then kidnapped him and brought him here. He didn’t even offer a good explanation. But, Jason falls back on him stealing the inhalers from Crane and maybe he deserved some part of it.

“I do remember.” Crane states simply as he furrows his brows. “Well, um, quick refresher course. So, this pump station is perched directly above Courtland Valve station, which controls all of the water supply for all of Gotham. I take my little friends there and I dump it into the water supply and…” Crane states as he fires up the jackhammer again but as he does, he loses control and it goes sputtering to the floor.

Jason bursts out laughing, enjoying the look of shock on Crane’s face but his laughter starts to die down when Crane also starts laughing. Something about the look he gives Jason and the way he laughs, it almost reminds of him Dr. Light when Jason had him pinned. When Deathstroke held a sword to your face. And suddenly, he’s worried again.

“You think that’s funny?” Crane asks through his laughter. “Just wait until you see what we’re gonna do to Gotham when we’re done here.” Crane says as he circles around Jason, standing behind him and wrapping an arm around his neck as he chuckles. “Gotham is going to destroy itself.” Crane boasts as he walks back over to his place by the jackhammer. “House by house, family by family.” Crane laughs and Jason doesn’t want that.

It was never supposed to be about destroying Gotham. It was about protecting Gotham. Doing the things Bruce would never do and couldn’t do and refused to do. It was about actually taking care of the people in the city who aren’t on Bruce’s radar, the people who get left behind by the GCPD. It was supposed to be about them, not this. This isn’t what Jason wanted to do.

“This plan is a fucking joke, Crane.” Jason states. “And so are you.”

“Me?” Crane questions and Jason thinks he might sound a little hurt. “But I reached over to the other side, dragged you back to the living…” Crane states and you were the one who said Crane was using him. Maybe you're right.

Up until this moment, Jason thought that couldn’t be true. Why would Crane use him? Crane’s been telling him this whole time he cares about him and he wants to help him in the way Bruce and Dick refused to help and couldn’t help. They could be a team, better than Batman. But, if Crane wasn’t really using him, why would he bring up bringing him back from the dead? Which Jason never fucking asked for anyway.

“So you could use me.” Jason states a sort of venom in his voice.

“Yes, so I could use you.” Crane answers nonchalantly as if Jason should have known the answer.

And Jason’s heart sinks further. It was never about helping him. It was about helping Crane help himself. You were the one who was right this time. Crane has been using him this whole time. Jason’s been a pawn in his game and it stings. It’s the same story over and over. Jason gives him all to someone and something and it all ends up backfiring, they use him and throw him away like he’s trash. Just like this.

“Life is transactional, my dear boy.” Crane states. “Well, I gave you life. You gave me secrets about Batman and Dick Grayson and the girlfriend, er, ex-girlfriend? And uh, what was his name? Hank?”

Jason has had it. Today is not the day to mess with him and Crane bringing up him betraying everyone for him is setting him off. It never should have had to be transactional. Yes, Jason should have known better. He knew the exchange was secrets for the formula. It was the drug and then they’d work together. Jason knew that part of it but he didn’t think his life was a part of that transaction. He doesn’t want his damn life to be transactional. He doesn’t want to sell himself for a drug and secrets and the destruction of Gotham and the Titans. That’s not who he is and that’s not who he wants to be. On top of that, Jason’s sick and tired of Crane thinking he can just bring up his one line and get off. You were always supposed to be off limits anyway and everything is sending Jason right over the edge.

Jason grabs Crane by the collar and spins them around, slamming Crane’s back against a few boxes as he holds him there. He’s done working with Crane and letting Crane think he’s the one running the show. Jason is not going to be his pawn anymore. If he wants to take down Gotham, that’s on him. Not Jason.

“I’m done telling secrets!” Jason yells, jaw clenched and knuckles turning white. “Done being fucking used!” Jason yells as he punches Crane in the face twice and then lets him go.

Crane looks up at him, something menacing and bored in his eyes. “You done?” He asks as he spits blood onto the ground.

“Almost.” Jason states plainly. “Bring her up again and I’ll fucking kill you.” Jason says harshly, his jaw squaring and a burning hatred washing over his usually bright eyes. Crane opens his mouth to say something but Jason moves forward and uses most of his strength to take another hit to Crane’s face, this time the hit is enough to knock him unconscious. “Now, I’m done.” Jason says as he leaves Crane on the ground and heads out, desperate to find something that’s going to take the edge off of everything that’s clouding him right now.

He’s supposed to meet back up with you, but at this point, he’s not sure he can stomach it. In the moment, it seemed fine. It was nice not to be alone and to not feel so alone. But, right now, it’s as if he swears it’s the only thing he really deserves with the withdrawal kicking in full force. You will try to make it all better and he knows for a fact he doesn’t deserve for it to be better again. He needs to figure out what he’s going to do and how. How he’s going to come back from everything. You just said he had to try but he doesn’t know how to try. What he’s become goes against everything that’s been engrained into him over the last few years.

Bruce swore killing was wrong and using excessive force was wrong. But, now Jason is the one with guns killing people and decapitating them just for extra threatening measure. Maybe he didn’t always agree with Bruce’s point of view but that’s what a hero, a vigilante, Robin was supposed to do. Not kill. Not use excessive force. There was one way and one way only. Jason was murdered anyway and he thinks maybe, this isn’t all wrong because it is for the greater good of Gotham. But, it haunts him anyway because of how he got here, what led him here. He was murdered and Bruce couldn’t kill the Joker for him and his death was preventable. His death was preventable in every way but he died anyway. He’s the one left with those physical and mental scars, not Bruce.

Jason thinks it’s different when death happens to you. But, Jason didn’t go after Two-Face. He didn’t go after Mr. Freeze or Penguin or Bane or the Riddler. Jason went after the drug side because of Crane. Maybe he would have done it anyway, but it was because of Crane so Crane could run his own drugs without them getting in the way. It wasn’t about protecting people. It was about distribution. So, he thinks about his younger self. The younger self that took care of his mom and didn’t entirely hate his dad for everything. And he wonders how much his younger self would hate who he’s become.

His younger self would hate the killing and the drugs and the betrayal. He’d hate turning from a hero to a villain and he’d hate how he went and fucked up such a good thing with so many people. Sure, the Titans weren’t always nice or understanding, but they had smoothed things out. And things did feel okay with them. And he was safe and warm and healthy and he had someone, he had people, who cared about him and tried their best to take care of him, something his younger self would have loved to have even if he never admitted it. Jason could have had it all but it just wasn’t enough. He was selfish and entitled and impatient, just like Dick and Bruce said. He was hard-headed and stubborn. It got him killed and it got him put in this position and he thinks his younger self might think he were better off staying dead.

Maybe he would be.

So, he digs out of his phone and sends a quick text to you. And then he waits.

An hour later, Jason sees you walking towards him as snow starts to fall from the gloomy sky. He swallows the lump in his throat as you get closer. You offer him a soft smile, hands dug deep into your pocket once you close the distance between you.

“You know it’s freezing, right?” You quip, seeing your breath in the space between you.

He didn't say much in the text. It was just that he didn't want to sit around the hideout and he needed to be out. He followed that text asking if you'd want to walk with him for a while.

“Yeah, and I’m still fucking sweating.” Jason rolls his shoulders, shaking his head.

“Ew.” You laugh softly. Jason’s eyes narrow at you as you shrug, a gentle smile on your lips. “Thanks for texting me.” You nod your head once.

If you were being honest, you're surprised he did. A very large part of you expected him to not come back to his hideout and avoid you. You really would understand if he did at this point. It has to be really difficult for him, especially coming down from both the anti-fear drug and whatever Crane gave him last night. But, you're really glad he texted anyway.

Jason lets out a breath, a cloud leaving his lips from the cold air. “Thanks for coming.” Jason nods.

“What’d Crane say?” You ask hesitantly, seeing the brown paper bag in his right hand.

“That he’s fresh out.” Jason scoffs. “Load of shit, obviously.”

“What a piece of shit.” You scoff right back. “He fucking sucks.” You roll your eyes, split between worried something bad is going to come from cold turkey withdrawal and relieved the risk of him falling back into Crane's hands is gone.

“Yeah.” Jason nods his head in agreement before the two of you start walking with no destination in mind.

“He say anything else?” You ask.

Jason bites back the pain in his chest and the burning of his eyes with your words. It’s a harsh reminder that he was never brought back because he was wanted. He wasn’t brought back because he was loved and cared about. He was brought back to be used and it was all always conditional. There were conditions to his life. His own breath was traded for secrets and death and betrayal. How can he live knowing his life is now tainted with innocent blood?

“Yeah.” Jason gets a distant look in his eyes as he brings the covered bottle to his lips and takes a drink.

“Which was…?” You ask softly, almost afraid of what Crane could have said.

“That he was using me the whole time.” Jason spits the words out and you swear you can see his eyes start to water against the city streetlights. “You were right.”

“For the record, I really wish I weren’t.” You scoff. “What? He just he was using you…just like that?” You question and you know Crane is a prick and he uses people. But, Jason really believed in him and that's the part that hurts.

“Pretty much.” Jason shakes his head, sucking in a deep breath as if the cold air biting his vocal cords will make it easier to talk. “Bringing me back was transactional.” Jason’s voice goes quiet and you think you heard his heart break.

You knew before, but this is further confirmation that Jonathan Crane is a monster. You're looking at Jason Todd who always just wanted to be enough and just wanted to be loved and Crane weaponized that just like Bruce. But worse. You knew Crane didn’t bring Jason back from the dead out of the kindness of his own heart but you're furious and devastated to be right. You're pissed that he would even tell Jason that.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him.” You mutter, looking forward which earns you an immediate glance from Jason.

“Why? He didn’t do anything.” Jason nearly mocks the very idea.

“Because he just told you that the reason you’re alive is because he needed something from you.” You bite back, a venom and fury in your voice as you look at Jason. “That’s fucked up. I don’t care if it’s true. You don’t tell someone that. And I wanna kill him anyway for everything he’s done to you. But, that’s a good enough reason to me.” The anger in your voice actually surprises Jason. Of course, he's hurt by the ordeal, but he's watching you grow more and more angry over it. He's never had someone be like over something someone else did to him.

“I don’t know why it even fucking matters anymore. I did all of this shit for him.” Jason huffs taking another drink. “How it always is anyway, right?” Jason lets out a hollowed chuckle. “Like I told you, people always want something in exchange for something else.” Jason mutters and he thinks Crane has a point. Life is transactional, he just wishes his literal life wasn’t.

You stop walking, Jason walking a few feet in front of you. You hadn’t thought about that conversation in months. It was the first time you ever promised him something. You promised you’d never make a promise to him you couldn’t keep and you’d never make one just to get something from him. Then he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone about the boot print bruise on your back. Things did not seem so simple then, but they sure as shit do now. And your heart starts to break even more, realizing that he really, truly trusted Crane. You have no idea why but he did. That’s not for you to judge but he trusted him and Crane only brought him back because he needed something from him. He is just another person that has made Jason Todd feel like there is some sort of condition to his love. And that’s just not fair.

“What?” Jason asks, turning around to look at you.

“You know I love you still, right?” You ask quietly.

Jason shakes his head in confusion, eyes darting up the sky and then back to you. He isn’t sure exactly how to respond to the question. You told him you do. That’s not the same as him believing you though. It’s hard for him to feel like anyone actually loves him right about now. He doesn’t even like himself right now. And with everything Crane just said to him, he’s thinking that maybe you're just saying it so Jason doesn’t walk onto a roof.

“Jay?” You ask quietly. “You know that, right?” Your eyes scan over his face but you don’t see any sign of him acknowledging the question. “Okay, well, I still love you.” You nod your head with confidence. “And if I would have known how to bring you back, I would have done it. Because I love you and I care about you and you deserve to live.” You close the distance between you. "And...you don't owe me shit for it, either. I don't expect anything from you. It's not conditional or transactional for me, okay?"

The last thing you want is for Jason to feel like he's unloved. It's messy as fuck right now and he has a lot to make up for but he's loved anyway. Crane loves to manipulate people and make them feel like they're alone. You can't imagine what the fuck telling Jason he wasn't even wanted back would do but you have to believe Crane had a fucking purpose. So, it doesn't matter where you and Jason stand or what's left of you. You will stand here in the freezing cold all night with him and tell him you love him. Because on days when you felt unloved and unlovable, you had Jason who always countered those thoughts without ever knowing. So, you will always do the same. He deserves it.

Jason’s breath starts to shake as he looks down at you and his chest hurts. He thinks someone might as well be reaching through his ribs and squeezing his own heart until it explodes. You're the only one that has ever made him feel wanted and loved without conditions.

“After everything?” Jason almost scoffs but he can’t quite bring himself to. You look desperate. “Fucking why?” The question almost comes out as a plea.

“Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” You nod your head once and this is different than the first time you said it. 

The first time was on accident and you were very clearly terrified. It was something you never intended to ever tell him but it slipped out in a fit of desperation so he’d stop beating himself up. This time though, it is said with confidence and reassurance as if the words were almost meant to leave your lips for only him. And it starts to defrost Jason’s heart, the pain easing in his chest because he knows you mean it.

Jason rests his forehead against yours, his eyes closing and it’s like it's easier to breathe again. He wants to kiss you again. It’s never easy for him to say what he thinks or what he feels but he’s always been able to show it with you. This time though, that is no longer his place. It doesn’t matter that you love him because you are broken up. He can’t overstep that line even if he wants to. The most he can do is rest his forehead against yours and that’s always been just enough.

A smile pulls at your lips before you wrap your arms around his shoulders, moving your head to rest in the crook of his neck. Jason’s hands come to your hips and suddenly, it’s like the first day of spring. The air isn’t suffocating or painful. It is fresh and clean, smooth and soft. It’s easy to breathe again and the suffocating coldness lifts from your chests. All it is is warm and welcoming. Just like home.

“Thank you for coming.” Jason mutters into your neck.

“You and me.” You mutter right back, Jason’s hands squeezing around you just a little tighter.

You pull away first, a loving smile on your lips and for just a second as you rest your hand on his cheek, you almost forget you ended things. This, right now, feels like it did before he died. And you almost forget and you almost kiss him to make it all not so heavy. But, it’s just a second and then you remember which means that isn’t your place anymore and you don’t know if it ever will be. So, you drop your hand, the smile falling slightly. You look to your left, sucking a breath but then your brows furrow.

“Is that Dick?” You question, bursting the bubble between the two of you.

Jason turns, following your stare. “Fuck.” Jason groans just as Dick seems to spot the two of you, too because he lifts the face shield of his helmet.

“We should get out of here.” You reach down for Jason’s free hand, interlocking your fingers with his.

“Yeah, fuck that.” Jason nods quickly in agreement as the two of you start to walk away but before you could get far, Dick tries to run the red light after you only to get hit by a car going through the green.

You and Jason look between each other before you both let out a breath and start your walk over to Dick to see if he’s okay. You both walk over as Dick rolls over to face you. You roll your eyes and grab your phone from your pocket to call an ambulance while Jason looks down at him. He finds the whole thing a little ironic. Dick is on the ground, clearly out of it and hurt and he could kill him right now. He’s been trying for a week to kill Dick and now is the perfect opportunity but the only reason he’s even thinking about it is because of the irony. He doesn’t even really want Dick dead. Not when he’s clean.

You kneel down, putting a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “Ambulance is on the way, I texted Kory and Gar to let them know. You’re an idiot.” You nod at him.

“What…?” Dick asks, looking from you to Jason and then back to you. Dick knows he has a concussion but he’s lost on why Jason is just standing in front of him and why you don’t even seem mildly concerned about what’s going on. What the hell is going on? “Jason?”

You look behind you and Jason’s heart sinks. “Yeah?” You question, looking back to Dick. “You ran into oncoming traffic.” You state sternly as you hear sirens starting to approach. You can see the lights just down the street. “Don’t do anything drastic like die on the way to hospital.” You say softly before you get back to your feet and walk back to Jason. “Let’s go.”

“What? You’re gonna leave him like that?” Jason asks with surprise, that’s unlike you.

“The ambulance is right there.” You point to the flashing lights. “He’ll be fine.” You nod your head once, reaching down for Jason’s hand once more, this time Jason takes it carefully before the two of you head off in the opposite direction.

The two of you get back to Jason's hideout, not having said much to each other on the cold walk over. You both convince yourselves it was all out of self-preservation rather than self-destruction. You follow Jason to the room he led you to last night where he plops down on the mattress still laid out on the floor.

Something about it feels weird because feelings are out in the open unlike before. They were said last time and something came from it but this time, they're words hanging in the air, following them back. Jason doesn't know what to say anymore and you think you've exposed yourself too much again. Nothing can happen between you now, not with everything going on and even if you both want something happen, is that for the best?

It's like something should be happening in the space between you but nothing does because it's all been said and done before. Neither of you quite know where you should stand or where you should lay your hearts to rest. So, it feels weird and it's quiet, both of which are things neither of you like very much between each other.

You shift on your heels, looking around the room. "I, uh, I brought you some more clothes and...stuff." You say softly, nodding towards your backpack near the dresser. You had dropped it off earlier when you were supposed to meet back here.

"Oh, uh, yeah no thank you." Jason nods his head at you and the awkwardness makes him want to chew his own arm off.

"You're welcome." You suck in a breath, looking around the room some more. "Not quite Wayne Manor, huh?" You ask, looking back to Jason.

"It's a roof." Jason shrugs a shoulder casually.

He should have said it back and he knows he should have. But, the words stick to the back of his throat, holding his vocal cords captive. While he gets it, he is still hurt by you leaving him. He knows he deserves it and you had every right to. You should still be gone. He gets it. But, he can still hear the heartbroken laugh you let out echoing in his head and the words that followed and it fucking hurts. He's forgiven you already but...the pain is there anyway. Jason knows he'll get over it but he isn't there yet so the words choke his vocal chords and the air is stiff and awkward between you.

"Yeah." You nod your head before you look back at him. You cannot take this anymore. It has almost never been awkward between you and you can't stand it. The whole thing would be easier if it were easier to just talk about everything. But, that seems too heavy right about now. So, you walk over to your backpack, plucking it from the ground. You walk in front of Jason and crouch down, unzipping your backpack before you pull out a book. "I thought it might help." You hand it over, your hands shaking slightly.

A soft smile starts to pull at Jason's lips as he takes the book from you. "Raided my whole room, huh?"

You grin, mostly to yourself. "Yeah, kind of." You laugh softly. "Brought these, too." You smile widely, pulling out a few more books and handing them over.

Jason looks over his favorite books, you picking up Pride and Prejudice and Frankenstein for him of course, but the pick of The Fellowship of the Ring does not go unnoticed. Jason really likes it, sure, but there are other books he's read more around you. He almost laughs at you grabbing this one. And something about the whole thing, makes him feel loved again.

He looks back to you and your eyes are bright just as they always were around him and your smile is turning into something cheeky, as if you know you've just won something Jason isn't aware of. You say loving him is easy and he always finds it so hard to believe, especially right now. But, he looks over the cover of the books and then back to you, and it really is just that easy to you. And while you may need to talk eventually and this whole thing is fucked up and messy, maybe some sort of feeling of how it used to be, would be nice.

He always felt loving you was the easiest thing he'd ever done, too.

So, he smirks back at you.

"You don't have to try so damn hard." Jason quips. "Fucking try-hard."

Your jaw drops as you let out a laugh. "Fuck you! Look who's talking! You're the biggest fucking try-hard I ever met!"

"Bullshit!" Jason laughs. "You were the one who told me with Deathstroke that I wasn't trying hard enough!" Jason fires right back, hoping he can get you to keep laughing. He's really missed your laugh.

You burst into a fit of laughter, almost forgetting about that comment he made. You told him he was the one that needed to get laid and he told you he'd been trying. The comment was never brought up again. Partially because Jason was dropped fifteen stories and partially because it wasn't worth the risk of bringing up if it was a serious comment or not. But, you find the whole thing funny now.

"Well, it was true!" You bite back. "You were an asshole half the damn time!" You know, asshole or not, all Jason had to do was ask and you would have gotten right into bed with him without a second thought. Not that you will ever give him the satisfaction of knowing that though.

"Playing the long game, babe." Jason defends his stance, a smirk dancing over his face as he gestures his hand out to the side.

"I'd fucking say!" You let out a chortle.

"Worked for a while, didn't it?" Jason says and it almost grows sour on his tongue but that's not how he meant the comment. "I mean, had you practically begging a few times." The smirk switches into something sinister and teasing. The confidence radiates off him just like it always did before and you think you could go back and forth like this all night and maybe it would fix everything.

You feel heat start to rise to your cheeks. "Okay listen."

Jason bursts into a fit of laughter and you think it's still the most beautiful sound you've ever heard. "Uh-huh. I'm listening, babe. All fucking ears." Jason nods his head quickly, knitting his brows together but the smirk is practically glued to his face as if he knows he's just won.

"Fuck you." You nod your head quickly, shrugging your shoulders. "I fucking won! Remember that? I do so everything else, bullshit. I won." You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason's smile starts to soft and tender as he nods his head. "Yeah, guess you did." He says softly.

This feels normal. It feels like it did before, just joking. Sure, being together was better because you could joke and know something else was on the other end of it. The joking as friends was always just fun and that's how this feels again. Fun. And warm. It doesn't feel so heavy at the moment and neither of you feel so alone and you can see it in the way he looks back to the books. You can hear it between the lines of his words because Jason Todd doesn't take losing lightly. You don't particularly want this moment to end. Instead, you want to push it a little bit. Letting him know silently that if even a small part of him is willing, maybe there's hope to get back to how you were before.

"Exactly." You match the softness of his voice. "And you know what, I bet I could get you to cave again." You hold your head with confidence.

Jason pauses for a second, narrowing his eyes at you, unsure if this is a trick. "You really sure about that?" Jason challenges, taking the bait as he leans forward towards you slightly. He, for one, is not going to risk this getting heavy again and you always had a habit of backing out when he actually challenged you.

It's not just you who's been craving this. He has, too. Your game always made him feel wanted and loved and cared for, even before he realized it. That's part of what made it fun for him. And maybe it's too soon to jump into it and maybe you have other things you need to sort out first, but that's not a tonight problem. Tonight's problem is finding a way to deal with the withdrawal and self-hatred burying itself into his bones. Tonight is just about existing with each other for the first time since he's been brought back.

You meet Jason right in the middle, closing most of the distance between you. "Positive." You nod just once.

Jason glances to your lips and then back to you. "I'll take that bet."

You shake your head as a soft laugh escapes your lips. "Alright, Jay. Bet's a bet." You roll your eyes, sticking out your hand and Jason shakes it. "I will never let you win because you will be surely insufferable."

Jason lets out a booming laugh. "Absolutely. I'll never let you live it down. Glad you understand that."

"Shut the fuck up." You lean back on your hands as you roll your eyes. You pause, watching him take a drink from the bottle he's been nursing. He doesn't look too uncomfortable now and the awkwardness has evaporated into ease and comfort. "Hey, Jay?" Sam calls softly.

"You told me to shut the fuck up." Jason quips, not missing a single beat.

"Insufferable." You repeat casually as you nod your head quickly.

"What?" Jason asks softly.

"Wanna read to me?" You ask as hesitance starts to take over your voice. Jason's smile turns soft as he looks to the bottle in his hand and then back to you. He knows he will always read to you whenever you ask. "I mean, if you're up for it. I know you said you feel like shit. I can...try to read to you instead, if you want."

Jason almost forgot he felt like shit. You have always known exactly what to do to distract him from everything horrible going on. It makes him feel even worse over the whole ordeal because while a distraction isn't always the best coping mechanism, it would have been better than everything else he ever did. You always knew how to make the world not feel so heavy and you do it even now and Jason doesn't even think you realize you do it. You just do as if it's in your nature. And he feels better. Somehow.

"Come on." Jason jerks his head towards the bed as he puts the bottle off to the side before grabbing one of the books. He slides himself back until his back hits the cool wall.

"Really?" You ask with hope in your eyes.

"I owe you, yeah. I can read to you." Jason nods his head once before he opens the book, trying to play off how fast his heart is starting to race.

You smile widely before you climb onto the bed with him, sitting right next to him on your knees. You hesitate for a second because it's not like it was before. Before, you were friends. You were at least friends. And maybe you're friends now, but you're also exes and that feels like it makes it complicated. Last night, Jason was high and devasted. That was different than this. This suddenly feels personal and vulnerable again and you aren't sure you're supposed to be here like this. Not when you broke him.

"You gonna just sit like that or?" Jason questions, a tint of hope in his words because he wants you closer, he's just not sure if that's too invasive now. So, he plays it off just as he's always done as if that's a signal to you that it's okay because you always understood that part of him. "Not gonna fucking bite you." Jason quips, a tint of sarcasm in his voice. "That's your thing."

You shake your head, doing a double take. "Um, last time I checked, you were into it." You blink at him just as Jason looks back to you. He gains a shit-eating grin, shrugging his shoulder slightly. "Yeah, exactly. And you fucking branded me once, remember that?" You point out the time Jason littered you in hickies.

Jason's head hits the wall behind him as he lets out a booming laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. His nose scrunches and you think he's never looked more at peace right now. It's as if he is so proud of himself.

"Yeah, and you were into it, too." Jason lets out a scoff and you want to both kiss and bite the smirk off his face.

Jason looks back to you and you're sitting close, faces just inches from each other. You're looking at with him the fake scowl you always did when you knew you wouldn't have any type of comeback and you'd have to cave and tell him to go fuck himself. But, then Jason sees the corner of your mouth twitch into something cheeky and taunting. And he swears he has never been so captivated by someone before.

"Yeah, I was." You nod your head, throwing Jason the bone as you laugh.

"Fucking exactly." Jason's voice is low this time, brows pulling together.

You glance to his lips and you almost just bite the damn bullet. But, that might ruin what you're doing right now, so you roll your eyes. "Fuck you." Sam scoffs as Jason gains his signature triumphant grin.

"Time and place, babe." Jason beams right back at you.

"Insufferable." You repeat as a warm smile replaces the smirk. "Okay," You suck in a breath. "So, we lay like we always did before?" You ask, chewing the inside of your cheek as your eyes widen slightly with hope.

It hurts a little bit that you're hesitant and Jason knows that's on him. You've never been hesitant in showing him physical affection. Even the first night he read to you, the only reason you stood there is because you were confused as to what Jason was doing. But, the second he asked you to sit, sarcastically with a  bite in his voice, you went right to him and cuddled into his side. It has always been that easy and that simple. It should be that way, still. Regardless of everything that's happening. You both can keep that part of you and him.

So, he extends his arm.

"You don't have to ask." Jason states simply and casually because it should always be that simple.

"I just don't want to overstep." You mutter softly, dodging his eyes.

"You can't overstep." Jason almost whispers right back, no sarcasm or bite or snark in his tone.

Things might be hard and Jason might want to push and run and scream and break. He might feel far too exposed again and scared of getting hurt again and scared of everything, but you're the one person who can never overstep. You can do whatever you want and say whatever you want and ask whatever you want.

You give him this genuine and joyful smile as your face softens. "You can't either." You nod your head softly. You scoot down so you can rest your head on his shoulder, placing your arm over his stomach and you feel him relax right under you. He still feels warm and safe, just as he did before.

Once you're comfortable against him, Jason swears this is the safest he has felt since coming back. It is the most comfortable he has felt. He doesn't remember what it was like last night but tonight, he knows he can just exist with you. There are no obligations to anyone or anything. And relief fills his blood, his entire body falling into a state of relaxation and he hadn't even realized he hasn't relaxed at all since coming back. Maybe this is what you both really need. Just one night of normalcy for you both and comfort and safety. Just him and you.

"Thanks again for coming." Jason whispers above your head.

"Always." You whisper right back, running your thumb along the fabric of his hoodie covering his torso. Jason sucks in a breath, running his hand along your hoodie-covered shoulder before Jason's voice about Bilbo's birthday starts to fill the room.

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[twisted-wonderland-but-gayer]

Yuu is Tired

So idk what this is but I just had an idea for a drabble yk?? A bit angst. Yuu snaps and is GN and is on meds and stuff. I'm get back to reqs afterwards so enjoy

This is also kinda backstory for one of Juatclems reqs I'm working on and potential mean Yuu lore??? Anyways @blushing-concubus since u liked RSA Yuu

The Housewardens along with their vices all sit in Crowley’s office for an annual meeting. By some miracle, Malleus was there, probably because Lilia dragged them, however. As everyone settled in, Crowley took his seat, ready to start the session. “Alright, everyone so today-“

A knock at the door interrupts all of them, “I’m here headmaster, coming in.” You opened the door and visibly stiffened in surprise at everyone there, before giving Kalim a friendly wave back. Your eyes locked with Malleus for a moment, surprised to see your friend here, but a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, “Mx. Yuu, what are you doing here?” Your small smile dropped to confusion. “Did you forget, Headmaster Crowley? You said today you were available to talk to me… You know… About my situation…”

Leona sighed, just wanting to get this meeting over with, he hated prolonging these boring discussions, even more since Malleus was here. Riddle also huffed, such poor planning is making everyone waste their time. Trey put a hand on Riddle's shoulder to calm him. Vil wore the smallest scowl, glancing at the papers in your hand. Crowley looked around at the members there before clearing his throat.

“Ah… Aahhh yes, I totally remember! It was about your way home, yes? Terribly sorry Mx.Yuu but we are having a meeting right now, can’t this wait later.” You paused. Don't get upset. Don't get mad. “Well… I am also a prefect. Maybe I can join in until the meeting ends?” “Yuu, I’m afraid your dorm doesn’t have any other students, this meeting is for actual housewardens.”

Your heart sank at that. Putting off everything yet again. “Well can I just ask you the one question I have? It’ll be quick I swear!” “Mx.Yuu. I am going to have to ask you to leave.” “Right…” You sounded dazed for a moment.

You’ve been trying to have this conversation with him for a full year now. A year has passed with no information regarding your situation. And there has been no support for you as a foreign student both mentally and academically. You've spent a year here in total darkness with no support. “Sorry but uh… I’m not leaving until we discuss this.” “Pardon?”

"I mean…” You refused to bite your tongue now. “It’s not like you would have considered anything they say anyways. You would just drop all your work on me again like you usually do after threatening my basic right to food.” Besides Ruggie choking back snort, the room went deathly silent. “Mx. Yuu…”

“No. None of that. If I dont bring this up now, it’ll never happen.” Your voice was stuttery and a bit wobbly. “I-I I mean- I’ve been trying to talk to you about my situation for a year now and just- every time it gets dismissed or something. I can’t even talk about my problems or get help with my stay here.” Azul and Jade perked up at this, cogs spinning in their mind to create the perfect contract.

“Like, for example, I am always laughed at or humiliated for asking basic questions. I’m new this this entire world and yet everyone expects me to know everything! People are always upset when I dont know of some obscure wizard from a few hundred years ago or old trends that were popular.” 

Crowley sighed, making your blood boil. Your voice sped up, used to being cut off. “It’s really impacting my grade and there's no support for students with similar problems.” Crowley interrupted, “It sounds like you just need to study harder.” You didn't hide your irritated expression. “I did! I have been! I’ve been trying my absolute best but I don’t have a phone and the library doesn’t have anything beginner friendly! I-I mean—``''There are plenty of books in the library and teachers to help, you have no excuses.” 

Your voice trembled, a year's worth of frustration building up, finally coming out. “Okay then, tell me who Nikola Tesla is! Explain to me what Thomas Edison did! If you don't know them surely you must know of Julius Caesar or Cleopatra right?! You see? It's not that easy! And no matter the explanation I give you, you would still need to know more about my world to fully understand anything! And not only that but Grims grades can impact mine? It's not fair!”

You were breathing heavily and you seemed panicked. Crowley tensed up, trying to diffuse the situation. Trey and Riddle both cringed, this wasn’t going to be good. “No, no. Listen to me. I know nothing of this world that I was dragged into! On top of that I have no basic necessities— I barely got my own toothbrush a month ago— and I dont have the medications I need to be mentally okay even though I’ve been requesting them for over a year now! I-I just! ... On top of all of this I need to worry about food and do your job for you. I-it’s just not fair. It’s all taken a toll on my mental health and I just want to go home.”

You locked your eyes with Crowley “Please for the sake of my mental health tell me you have found something. Anything. I need to go home. I need my medication! I can’t be here anymore, I can't take it- I'm scared. I'm scared to even be alone with myself now. I see no way out besides…” You choked back a sob. “Please. Please tell me something. Anything. I can't take it anymore. The stares. the judgement. It's so… suffocating...”

Everyone turned towards Crowley, giving him a few judgemental and wide-eyed stares. Crowley cleared his throat “Mx. Yuu… Finding you a way home is going to take a while. We still don't know what dimension you even—``''Bullshit!” You snapped, glaring at him.

“Bullshit! I had visions about coming here before I did and you were there. Hell, I've been having visions and hearing voices and seeing things since my time here. I don't know if I've officially lost it or what, but…” You paused, to take in a breath. “I mean- You think I managed to deal with all these blots by myself? Don’t get me started on how you expect me to somehow be okay with them after everything too, I have fucking scars on my body that no magic can fucking heal, and you expect me to act like everythings okay?” The housewardens and a certain Vice-Housewarden looked away, guilt building up inside when they watched you pull up a sleeve to show your damaged arm.

“Do you not hear how insane it sounds— And-and-and— you guys don't even have a therapist here to talk to! Fuck, it seems I’m the schools only therapist having to deal with everyones problems and of course no ones there for me because why would they be!” Your voice was getting louder. “I’ve been predicting everything so far! I've been the one having to just… deal with all of this, all while being hungry! It's not fair!” 

You gripped the sleeves of your oversized and dusty uniform. “And I know you have to know something from what I’ve seen. I've reached out to RSA!” Rook’s eyes lock with yours for a moment and you swear you see his expression seem sad for once in all the time you’ve known him. You feel everyones staring at you. Some angry, some guilty, some sympathetic. You can especially feel the shock, most notably from your horned friend along with the floating tablet now on mute.

“RSA, says they know shit about interdimensional magic. I've told them about my situation and they actually offered to take me in and help! Fucking Chenya even said they offer help for foreign students! I don’t know if your just that incompetent or just scheming Headmage, but I am not leaving until you sign these transfer papers. And you are just to transfer me, not Grim. I am still pissed that you dropped him on me and consider us half a student!” Your breaths steadied as you calm yourself.

“I am done, Crowley. I am leaving, and you are going to approve of it.” You stared into the yellow orbs that peaked from behind his mask. Your voice cracked. “Please.” You can't imagine how they would’ve reacted to you foreseeing the future long before you came here. Where NRC is in ruins and the housewardens had to fight a very familiar looking cat…

You don't care if they called you selfish. You e been selfless your entire time here and that got you nowhere. So maybe you have to be selfish...

[atlafan]

1963 - Part 1

a/n: I have been dying to share this with yall and I'm so excited to finally be doing that. As per usual, this is the only part that will be posted here on Tumblr.All other parts will be posted on Patreon. In fact, Part 2 is already up! And Part 3 will be posted Friday.

Please consider joining my Patreon. It's only $5 a month, and it charges you the following month on the date you joined. So, if you signed up today, you wouldn't get charged again until January 10th. I post 2-4 times per month. If anything is under 10K words, that's usually when I'll post more. I depend on this extra income to help pay bills for essentials. The community there is also incredible and I write and post some of my nastiest smut on there, so if that's what you're looking for, you'll get it!

Warnings: mentions of infertility

Words: 3.8K

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“Every month I keep hoping I’ll have different news for you two,” Doctor Simmons sighed, “unfortunately, I have the same news. Beverly still isn’t with child.”

“We’ve been trying for five months, we’ve been doing everything you’ve said. Beverly drinks the teas, she lays with her legs up after we’re done, I don’t know what else we can do.” Robert was exasperated at this point. He was squeezing his wife’s hand, desperately trying not to let any tears escape his eye ducts.

“You two have exhausted all natural remedies, so I think it’s time we consider IVF.”

Beverly’s eyes widened, and she squeezed Robert’s hand back. She looked at him, panicked.

“Beverly is terribly afraid of needles.”

“You don’t need to decide on anything right now. Take these pamphlets and look over the information. If you two want to have a baby of your own, then this may be the next step.”

“We’ll look it over and have an answer by our next appointment.”

Robert and Beverly are silent on the drive home from the doctor’s office. They’re silent on their way back into their home. Beverly goes right to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Robert comes up next to her and puts her hand over hers.

“We should read the literature on IVF.” He said.

“I have friends who have done it, and all it has done is make their hormones crazy, and not in a fun way. I really don’t want to, Robert. I’ve done everything else, please don’t make me do this.”

“It feels like sometimes I’m the only one who wants to have a baby.”

“How could you say something like that to me? If I’m infertile-“

“You’re not, though. Doctor Simmons has run every type of blood test on you.”

“I know, I was there when the nurse was drawing it after you accused me of secretly taking birth control pills.”

“Well, with how apprehensive you were about having your diaphragm removed, I had to make sure you weren’t doing any self-sabotage.”

“Maybe I’m not getting pregnant because my body knows you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you, you just weren’t exactly thrilled to start trying.”

“You sprung it on me, I was surprised. We never really discussed having kids before we got married.”

“Sweetheart, why would two people get married if not to have kids?” He chuckled.

“That’s not why I married you. I married you because I love you and I want to be with you.”

“I love you and want to be with you too. But if I hadn’t wanted kids, we could have just shacked up in an apartment in the city. I bought us a house in the suburbs so you could keep house and raise our kids. You like being a housewife, you’ve told me as much.”

“I do. I like making your meals and keeping things tidy, but I also like my free time. I like to go have brunch with the other ladies, and I like going to the library to check out new film analysis journals, and I like being able to go to the movies in the middle of the day. Having a baby means I can’t do those things anymore. At least, not until it’s old enough to go to school. That’s five solid years I’d be putting on hold. And within that five years, I could have at least two more kids. So, now I’m thirty-one with three kids under the age of five, and oh yeah, I’ll still be expected to keep the house clean and cook all your meals and pleasure you even though everything between my legs will feel like sandpaper.”

Robert eyes his wife, then puckers his lips in thought. “Is that how you’ve really been feeling? You haven’t said a word.”

“I didn’t want to disappoint you. You’re not easy to talk to these days. Every time I reach for my clip-belt for my sanitary napkins, I can see you watching with such sadness in your eyes. Motherhood is scary. My friends tell me these horror stories about childbirth. Their husbands barely take a week off from work to be home with them and the baby. So, we’re expected to push these kids out, then get up the next day and get back to our usual routines.”

“Beverly, you’re worried about things women have been doing since the beginning of time. Don’t be such a child. The fear of needles I can understand, but the fear of being a mother makes no sense. I know you and your mother have a strained relationship, but that doesn’t mean history will repeat itself.” He placed his hands on her shoulders. “If we’re not pregnant by our next appointment with Doctor Simmons, then I would like us to start IVF. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, dear.”

“Good.” He looked at the ingredients on the counter and grimaced. “I don’t want meatloaf tonight, make something else instead.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m gonna go to my office, have a beer, and listen to the ball game. Let me know when dinner is on the table.”

“Yes, dear.”

Robert smiled, grabbed a beer out of the fridge, and walked out of the kitchen. Beverly took a deep breath and rummaged through her cabinets to see what else she could possibly whip up for dinner. It needs to be something heavy enough that Robert won’t feel like making love before bed. Beverly doesn’t have it in her to put on a performance tonight.

**

Most people get married to have kids. Beverly married Robert because she loved him. He wanted to take care of her. But when the honeymoon phase ended, and he stopped saying thank you to her for all of the things she did to take care of him, she grew resentful. She never let on about it. Robert didn’t need to know how she really felt. Opening up the way she did the day prior wasn’t normal. Things had been good between them for a long time. Beverly didn’t mind stepping into the role of a stay-at-home wife. She was college educated, but it wasn’t like she’d ever be able to carry a position in the profession of her desire. And since she didn’t want to be a schoolteacher or a nurse, Robert asked her to stay home to tend to the house he had bought for them.

At twenty-three, she really hadn’t minded. They met in college, as so many young couples do, and it was love at first sight. Their courtship was disgustingly romantic, and their wedding was a dream come true. The honeymoon phase was so sickly sweet. Beverly enjoyed making breakfast for Robert before he left for work. She enjoyed sending him on his way. She had the whole day to herself. She’d tend to her various gardens, and she’d make sure the house was clean. She’d meet up with friends for brunch. She did everything a good wife was supposed to do.

At twenty-six, Beverly feels like she’s on autopilot. She can’t help but wonder if the reason why older couples have designated sex nights is because the wives must need the six days in between to psych themselves up. She also can’t help but wonder if this is why so many older couples opt for twin beds that can be pushed together or pulled apart.

And it’s not that Beverly doesn’t want kids, she thinks it could be fun, but she’s petrified of essentially raising a child by herself. Robert will stroll in from work, bounce the baby on his knee for all of two minutes, and call it a night. She’s scared for all the reasons she tried to explain the day prior. Robert also didn’t give Beverly a choice five months ago…

“I was thinking of maybe enrolling in graduate school.” Beverly brought up one morning over breakfast. Robert had nearly choked on his toast. “I know what you’re thinking, but you wouldn’t have to pay for a thing. They have stipends for students. I could teach while I learn.”

“I thought you didn’t want to teach.”

“I didn’t want to teach children, but something about having high level discussions with college students makes teaching sound like fun. I miss being in school.”

“What’s the point of a graduate degree in film and media? It’s not like you can do anything with it.”

“A graduate degree could lead to a doctorate, and I could keep teaching. I know female professors are few and far between, especially in the world of film, but it is possible.”

“So, you want to be a career woman, is that what you’re saying?”

“Not exactly. Classes wouldn’t take up all my time. I’d still be able to cook and clean and do everything I’m doing now. Except now when I go to the library, I’ll be doing schoolwork instead of reading for leisure.”

“Seems like you have it all figured out already.”

“Well, I wanted to show you I had thought it all through, that I was serious. You got your graduate degree. If you hadn’t, we never would have met.”

“Exactly. What if some older professor comes on to you? You’d have no way to protect yourself.”

“Oh, Robert, I’ve gone this long without something horrible happening to me on a college campus, I think I’d be fine. Besides, all I’d need to do is show off the lovely rings on my finger.” She grinned. “No one would mess with a married woman whose husband can afford a diamond like this.”

“Did you already sign up for a course?”

“Of course not. I wanted to speak with you first.”

“Good.” He finished his breakfast. “Let me think on it.”

“Alright. Anything in particular you want for dinner tonight?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go out tonight. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”

“Oh? For what?”

“Does a husband need a reason to treat his wife to a romantic evening?”

“No.” She giggled. “I’m just excited at the prospect of a spontaneous date night. I’ll pick out a dress I haven’t worn in a while, so it feels like new.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He stood and kissed the top of her head. “I’ll call you before I leave work, so you’ll know when to expect me.”

“Okay, have a good day, dear.”

Beverly was excited. A night out was a positive sign. Robert wouldn’t take her out just to give her bad news. He was going to say yes to her going back to school.

The restaurant Robert took Beverly to was ritzy. He danced with her, ordered an expensive bottle of wine, and kissed on her shoulder and neck while he sat next to her in their booth. That sickly sweet feeling Beverly thought might be gone was sparking again. When the cheesecake came out, they fed each other bites. It was adorable.

“Are you having a good time tonight?” He asked.

“Yes, this has been such a wonderful evening. Thank you for taking me here.”

“You’re welcome, Bev.” He put his hand over hers and gave it a squeeze. “I’ve been thinking about a lot of things lately, and our conversation this morning was the kick in the pants I needed, so I’m really glad you brought up graduate school.”

“I’m glad it was a positive conversation.” She smiled. “What’s been on your mind?”

“I think it’s time we started trying for a baby.” All of the color drained from Beverly’s face, but her smile never wavered. She couldn’t let on how disappointed she was. “You’re clearly bored with the amount of free time on your hands. I know school seemed like a fun thing to do to pass the time, but I think we’ve waited long enough. We’ll be married almost four years soon, I think we know what we’re doing in the bedroom by now. So, next week, I’m taking you to the doctor to have your diaphragm removed-“

“You called my doctor about something like that?”

“I know it’s a bit awkward, but it’s not a secret that you have one. I went with you when you got it, I should be with you when you have it taken out.”

“Robert…I don’t like that it feels like you’re not giving me a choice. What if I’m not ready?”

“It’s not that you don’t have a choice, I’m just stating that it’s time. You take care of me just fine, you’ll be a great mother. This is what I would rather you do than go back to school. Besides, think of the fun we’ll have while we’re working at it. I got excited at work today thinking about it. I was hoping tonight could be a test run.” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I love you so much, Bev, I wanna turn that love into a physical being.”

“Yeah, um, that makes perfect sense. Let’s…let’s make a baby.”

“Really?” He asked, elated.

“Yes, dear.”

Robert kissed his wife. He kissed her in the car. He kissed her on the way into their home, up the stairs, and into their bedroom. He made love to his wife, then called it a night.

After getting her diaphragm removed, they waited until after her next period was done to start trying. This gave Beverly plenty of time to figure out how she could avoid pregnancy. She needed to keep some semblance of control over her own body. Robert wasn’t going to tell her when she was ready. She could decide that on her own.

Lysol douching didn’t work, she knew this. Her sister told her as much. Some of her friends offered her their birth control pills, but she knew they’d show up on a blood test, which Robert made sure she had after the second month of her still not having gotten pregnant. Beverly may have studied film, but she was an excellent student in biology and chemistry as well. She knew how condoms worked. They were coated in spermicides. She just needed to figure out how to coat her vagina with it. She bought condoms and squeezed all of the lubricant and spermicide off them and got a good amount into a bottle. She mixed it with olive oil, what ancient Greeks used to use, and douched with that before having sex with Robert. She knew it would be a long shot if it worked, but she had to try.

When the third month came along, and she still wasn’t pregnant, she took solace is knowing her little concoction was working. And because Robert never went down on her, he’d never smell or taste a thing. When he used his fingers, he just thought she was extra wet, which made him feel proud of himself.

She was perfectly content with her plans until the topic of IVF came up. Even the harshest of solutions couldn’t stand up to IVF injections. She never felt bad for lying to Robert because she didn’t like that he had become so controlling, but she also didn’t think she’d be doing this for so long. The thought of her giving her body up didn’t sound any more appealing five months later.

What was she going to do?

**

“I really think that one is gonna be a winner.” Robert sighed happily as he relaxed into the bed, looking over at Beverly as she lay with her legs in the air. “I’m glad we waited a couple of days in between, feels like my boys swam stronger.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly closed her eyes and tried to breathe steadily, counting down the minutes until she could go use the bathroom and cleanse herself.

“I had an idea today. I really want to spare you from having to be injected with needles. I’m a good husband, and good husbands protect their wives. So, since we have about five weeks until our next appointment, I thought we could try one last natural method.”

“I’m listening.” She turned her head to look at him, intrigued.

“I overheard some ladies talking in the break room this morning. It’s the one good thing about having so many female secretaries. Anyways, they happened to be discussing various issues with conceiving. One of them said they had a friend who got pregnant the second she and her husband stopped focusing so much on it. The wife threw herself into different projects, and a month or so later, she was pregnant.”

“Wait.” She sat up on her elbows. “Are you saying I can enroll in a graduate course after all?”

“What, no.” He laughed. “No, I was thinking we could finally redo the patio and have that pool you’ve wanted put in. You’ve been talking about wanting to host more parties for our friends. You always do so well with the workers when we have something done here, and you love gardening. I think you’d really enjoy overseeing a landscaping project.”

“Let me get this straight: you would rather pay thousands of dollars to have our backyard redone, than pay a couple of hundred for me to enroll in a course?”

“I think school would be too stressful. If you’re stressed, then you definitely won’t conceive. Overseeing a project that puts you outside in the sun will be a win-win. Not to mention an old friend of mine is willing to give us a deal on the work.”

“You have a friend that’s a landscaper?”

“Yeah, this guy from my old neighborhood took over his father’s business. He said he could swing by Saturday to take a look at things.”

“It sounds like you’ve already decided that this is what we’re doing.”

“That’s because I have.” He grinned proudly. “Bev, when we got married, I promised to take care of you. This is me taking care of you. Not all husbands would do something like this for their wives. You could at least pretend to be grateful.”

“I am grateful, I’m sorry if my tone suggested otherwise. What time Saturday is he coming over?”

“That I left up to you. I didn’t know if you had any errands or plans with the ladies.”

“Oh.” Well, at least he was trying to be considerate. “Maybe around three? That would give me time to pick up the dry cleaning and stop at the market.”

“Three is perfect. I’ll give him a call tomorrow to let him know.” He looked down at his watch. “You should be good to use the bathroom now.”

“Yes, dear.” Beverly lowers her legs and slings her robe on. Once she’s in the bathroom, she locks the door and flips on the fan. She rummages around in the back of the sink-cabinet until she finds her douching solution. She used some prior to having sex with her husband, but she likes to use it after for good measure. She bites into the heel of her palm as she cleanses herself. It tends to sting from time to time. When she’s done, she looks at herself in the mirror. She knows she can’t keep doing this to herself. She just doesn’t know what else to do.

**

Beverly loves her weekend clothes. There’s something so freeing about slipping on a pair of high-waist capris, a sleeveless button-up that ties in the front, and a pair of flats. She usually gardens after running her errands, and this is what she typically wears to garden. Robert hates it when Beverly wears pants, or anything form fitting, in public. Why should anyone else be privy to how round her bum is, or how full her thighs are? She’s got a body like Marilyn’s, and that’s something he prefers to keep under wraps.

When the landscaping van pulls up out front, Beverly is in the front yard, planting and mulching. She has the radio going, so she doesn’t pay any mind to the sound of an engine turning off. The man in the landscaping van tilted his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, getting a better glimpse of Beverly. Robert starts walking over, so the man gets out of his van, rounding it to meet his old friend.

“Harry.” Robert smiled and shook the man’s, Harry, hand. “Can you believe it? Got a nice house in a suburb just like the one we grew up in.”

“I never doubted you’d get everything you wanted.” Harry smiled back.

“Seems like the Navy treated you well.”

“Yeah, I can’t complain too much. I didn’t get blown up or lose a limb.”

“And now you own your father’s business. Sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s the drawback of inheritance.”

“Yep. You working for your father?”

“Yes, and proud of it. I’ve got an office with a view, and I can afford to live more than comfortably. Got a beautiful wife, too.” Robert looked around. “Beverly, c’mere!” Beverly stood and dusted off her trousers before making her way over to the two men. “Harry, this is my Beverly.” He put his arm around his wife’s shoulders.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Clark.”

“Likewise, Mr…”

“Styles.” He points behind him with his thumb. “Of Styles Landscaping.”

“Right, of course.”

“Your husband told me you were hoping to have some work done in the backyard.”

“Yes, we’d like the patio redone and to have a pool put in, if possible.”

“Let’s show Harry to the back.” Robert said as he led his wife to the back. Harry followed close behind.

As Beverly observes Harry observing her yard, she can’t help but feel confused. How is this man a friend of Robert’s? Harry’s t-shirt is stretched tight over his chest, not to mention how beefy and muscular his biceps are. His arms are also littered with tattoos.

It takes about twenty minutes for Harry to look around, take some measurements, and get a feel for the land.

“Alright, I can come back on Tuesday with some different mockups of what can be done back here. I can bring my portfolio too, so you can look at some of my past projects. Does Tuesday work for you, Mrs. Clark? I’m assuming you’ll be the one home.”

“Yes, the early afternoon works for me, Mr. Styles.”

“Perfect.” Robert clapped his hands. “H, come in for a bit. We can have a couple beers and catch up while Bev does her gardening out front.”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry nodded, and Robert started to make his way inside. For a split second, Harry tilted his sunglasses down to look at Beverly. “It was nice meeting, Mrs. Clark.” He winked and smirked before catching up with Robert.

Beverly felt her cheeks heat up. She turned and watched Harry walk into her home. Why did he wink at her like that? And why did it make her feel like she just got a B-12 shot?

She shook it off and made her way out front. Gardening will help her clear her head. She’s a married woman. A friend of Robert’s wouldn’t flirt with a married woman…would he?

[wlfhrdlover]

Could you do an ajax x fem!reader where the reader clinically suffers from ptsd and Rowan keeps on doing her triggers (Making loud hitting sounds etc) when they're all in the nightshades meeting and thats the reason why everyone kicked him off the group and ajax is protecting the reader. just general fluff tbh

I'll write it based on my experience around loud noises, so I'm sorry if you don't like it </3

also, I feel like that Ajax is the "i'm always calm and happy but you mess with her and I'll fuck you up" type of boyfriend, idk.

LOUD

Ajax Petropolus x fem!reader

summary: Rowan pushed Ajax's buttons in a Nightshades meeting.

WARNINGS! mentions of violence, PTSD, abusive parents, kinda of a panic attack, asshole!Rowan, reader is a shadow manipulator (please message me if I forgot something).

Rowan was loud when he wanted and you knew it, you and Rowan never got along very well, in your first day you thought that you two would be best friends or at least friends, both being quiet and never getting lucky around people.

But you were wrong, Rowan was mean, really mean. One time he found out about your fear towards loud noises, reason unknown for him, but it was enough to give him something to use against you.

But you were wrong, Rowan was mean, really mean. One time he found out about your fear towards loud noises, reason unknown for him, but it was enough to give him something to use against you.

At first, you thought it was accidental how he would always clap his hands near to your ear or how things would fall right on your side, making you jump and heart race with the loud noise. Then, you figured out that it was just Rowan showing how much of a bully he could be.

The worst times was when you were in the Nightshades meeting, when the library echoed the loud noises and it always took you out of guard, you always ended up throwing up when you walked back to your dorm.

You didn't know why Rowan didn't like you, but you never tried to find out too, Rowan scared you.

Even though you never talked about it, people around you noticed how Rowan would always smirk when he made you jump or when he got a glance of the tears pooling in your eyes. Who noticed it first though was your boyfriend, Ajax Petropolus.

Sometimes he would glare at Rowan whenever he saw how his lips curved, the boy quickly walking away when Ajax approached you, honestly, Ajax was getting tired of it, he hated to see you so shaken up because of someone like Rowan.

Today though was really complicated, you didn't had the best day and you were oddly more jumpy than normal, now you were in your daily Nightshades meeting, Kent was rambling about something that happened on his swimming time and you just smiled softly trying to comfort him, but your smile quickly dropped when a loud noise echoed inside of your head.

Something similar to a belt and it took you completely out of guard, suddenly your mind flew back to your house and principally to your father.

When Ajax heard the sound his eyes quickly darted to Rowan and he was mad, really mad, Rowan was almost laughing at your face.

— Dude what the fuck is your problem?- Ajax groaned throwing the book on his hand towards Rowan's back.

— My bad- Rowan sarcastically said.

— You need to stop doing that Rowan, seriously- Bianca sent a glare to the boy.

Suddenly the library started to get dark and cold, way too dark and Ajax knew exactly who it was, his eyes quickly turning to you.

His blood boiled when he caught the sight of your eyes wide open, your hands shaking and tears rolling down your cheek.

— Rowan get out of my sight right now- Ajax said between his teeth.

— And don't come back, you're out of the Nightshades- Bianca warned and Rowan simply rolled his eyes and walked out.

Ajax quickly made his way towards you.

Your mind was racing, flashes of your father and his belt, the screams, you trying to beg for him to stop.

"You never know how to keep your mouth shut", "SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I'LL MAKE YOU".

When a warm hand held your arm, your legs failed and you fell down, almost crumbling, the shadows around you getting more and more darker, you wanted to be swallowed by them, just disappear.

But your mind was fogged, so when you only saw Ajax's hands lifting to take your hair out of your face, out of instinct you pulled away.

— I'm sorry, I'm sorry, don't hit me please- you cried and Ajax's heart broke completely.

— Love, it's me, it's only me, I'm not going to hit you- he calmly said and kneeled in front of you- It's just you and me now love, no one is going to hurt you again, I'm right here my love- he said.

Your mind slowly started to get back in place, his grip on you never left but you could barely feel it as he held you so gently to not startle you more.

— It's okay sweet girl, just let it out, I'll hold you- he whispered and you cried, you completely broke down in front of him- I'm gonna hug you, is that okay?- he asked and you nodded, he slowly pulled you in his embrace, your head resting on his chest as he caressed your back, your body relaxed on his.

Ajax was so gentle with you, when he noticed how horrified you were of loud noises, he would always arrange your dates in quiet places, bring headphones with him everywhere in case you needed it and always offering his care to calm you down.

You were so grateful to have him with you, he never tried to question about your fear because he knew it was a sensitive topic for you, so the only thing he did was be there for you, whenever you needed and wherever you needed.

He was there.

Ajax was always there.

— Just me and you love, just me and you- he whispered and when you fully calmed down he asked Yoko to bring a cup of water- Give me your hand my love- he asked and you held his hand tightly.

Ajax helped you up, his arm still around your body, your friends looking at you worriedly but smiling softly to assure you that was okay.

Yoko came with a cup of water and Ajax let go of your hand to help you drink it since you were still shaken up, even if you didn't he would help you anyways, Ajax just wanted to make sure that you were okay.

— Let's go back to my dorm and sleep, is that okay?- he whispered and you nodded gripping on his hoodie, he smiled and kissed your head- Okay, I love you my sweet girl- he said.

— I love you too Jax- you muttered.

That night, Ajax held you close to his chest, whispering sweet things in your ear to help you sleep, his hand always caressing your head, always checking to see if you were okay and if you needed anything.

Honestly, the only thing you needed was him and none of you complained about it.

extra!

Ajax made sure that Enid was distracting you when he made his way to Rowan, pulling him inside of an empty room, Rowan looked at him.

— Don't even think about it- Ajax warned and Rowan backed off- Listen to me Rowan, I noticed your little game and I'll warn you, you pull that shit again towards my girl and I'll completely fuck you up, you don't wanna see me mad Rowan, because believe me, the last thing you want to see is a mad gorgon- he said so lowly and in a scary tone that Rowan could see his life passing by his eyes- Stay away from my girlfriend and we're good, understood?- he asked.

Rowan nodded quickly and searched for his inhaler, Ajax smiled sarcastically and forcefully tapped the boy's shoulder, Rowan yelped im pain.

Ajax walked out of the room and you were walking by, your shadows almost hiding you from his view.

— Hey my love, wanna go to the botany class and see the new plants? I heard that some of them are your favorite ones- he smiled and you nodded taking his hand, he glanced at Rowan who quickly walked off.

Good.

[happysadyoyo]

uh

this is another one of @pillowspace's au. may be taking some of my own spin on things but shhh

don't look at me

tw for mugging with a knife

It's well past dark when you leave work, waving goodbye to the security officer as you steel yourself for leaving the building. It's cold out, so you pull your hood up against the wind, tucking it tight around your throat. Yes, generally it's bad to cut down your visibility when you're walking alone at night, but also you're all but legally blind (mostly because you've not gone to the doctor since your last prescription stopped working). The hood makes the world seem a little less big while you march from work to home.

It's not a long walk, and it's one you're very familiar with, so it takes you a minute to realize when you're no longer alone. There's footsteps behind you, and as you slow down, you hear them slow down too. Odd. There's sometimes homeless people that hang around, but it's been getting colder and the cops swept the streets a couple nights ago anyway. Other than you, there's not many people hanging out in the business district. You want to reason this all away, but you fumble for that little can of pepper spray on your keychain anyway.

You'd barely pulled your hand free from your pocket before there's a tight grip on your shoulder, shoving you forward. You stumble and fall when the grip doesn't let up, crying out in dismay when your keys skip across the pavement. "No!"

"Shut up and give me your wallet. Now!" The mugger barks his orders at you, even as you try to feel for your keys. It had a reflector on it, just in case of a situation like this, but it's too dark here, the buildings hiding the moon overhead. You keep fumbling until a boot stomps on your fingers. "Are you fucking stupid? Wallet, now!"

"Sorry! I'm sorry. I don't have anything though, I swear." It's hard to find your wallet. Your hands are shaking, and the one that just got stomped is throbbing in time with your racing heart. You barely manage to pull the threadbare plastic leather bifold from your coat before it's snatched from your hand, your mugger ripping the rubberband holding it together off with a sharp snap.

"Bitch, what the hell is all this? There's no cash!"

"I told you! I don't have anythi---ng!" There's something very sharp pressed against your cheek all at once, and you freeze, jaw snapping shut. It's a knife, duh, sharp and cold from the night air. Your eyes feel hot in conrast, itchy, and you realize you're starting to cry.

"Hands up. And no funny business, or I'll use this." The knife digs into your skin, and you shakily lift your hands, flinching when he starts patting you down, clearly searching for any valuables. There's nothing, because of course there's not! You're smart enough to know not to lie if someone is threatening you like this! But when his hand slips inside your coat, you let out a choked up sob.

"Jesus, chill, no one would want to do anything with you. Fucking loser." He's frustrated, shoving you to the ground with his foot. You stay there, biting your lip so hard you can taste blood. But at least he seems to be done with you. "You tell anyone what just happened and I'll kill you." You don't reply, don't think you can. But it's enough. After an eternity, you hear him leave.

The breath you let out is a wretched thing, somewhere between a sob and a gasp, snot and phlegm caught in your throat turning it into a rattling sound. You roll onto your knees, burying your face in the arms of your coat as you let out a series of deep, dry sobs. It takes an eternity to calm down enough to move, your body stiff as you feel for your things. Your wallet was, to put it mildly, destroyed, and the tears continue unabated as you realize your cards are gone -- the gift card from work, the snap access card, and your debit card. You'll have to cancel the latter two, but there's no cash at home. No food either. You were going to grocery shop after your shift at the library.

Your keys had somehow made it to the curb, and your curl your fingers around the pepper spray like it's a talisman. Standing takes more effort, and you use the curb to sort of propel yourself up. Your balance remains shaky, and your nose hurts now from crying in the cold, and you definitely still taste blood. You try to tell yourself you're lucky you didn't get hurt (worse, you add, as your fingers and cheek throb), but that falls flat.

You force yourself forward, to get home. To your little apartment with your little brother, to let the sitter finally go home.

Fuck, you hope she'll let you pay through paypal tonight.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Yay then!!!

Hmmmm…

So, for hurt-comfort, I had another idea, but I realized it's too big and would prob work as a one-shot better, so this is the scenario idea:

James finding his gf (the reader) crying after someone was bullying her for being muggleborn, (if u wanna make it more extreme maybe they also cast a spell that ruined all her hw, or drenched her in water, or something like that) and by the end she's just kinda asleep in his arms and he promises (to himself) to protect her

Also, I swear, for some reason the bad liar update never showed up on my page, so I'll be reading that tmr

always yes to protective Jamie 🥺🥰 Warnings: reader gets bullied for being a muggle-born Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter 😊 gifs aren’t mine 😁

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Bullied

"Hey, sweetheart, I was starting to think you forgot about me" you heard your boyfriend's voice coming from the bathroom, as soon as you stepped into his dorm. He walked out and his smile instantly dropped when he saw you. "Princess, what happened?"

You were an absolute mess. You looked completely drenched, covered in mud, your knees and hands were wounded, and your bag looked like it had been burned.

"I w-was coming b-back from the library" you said, between sobs as James walked closer to you and took your bag off your shoulder. "A-and they- they started yelling at m-me" you cried as James walked you over to his bed and sat you down.

"Who?" he asked, feeling his blood boiling.

"S-some kids from Slytherin" you said, trying to calm your breathing. "I'm not sure what their n-names are. They just started yelling 'm-mudblood'" you cried on James' shoulder. "A-and then they threw water a-at me with their wands a-and mud" you said, looking up at him before you grabbed your bag. "A-and they ruined m-my bag. I had all of my assignments here" you said, opening it but nothing more than ashes came out. "I worked on m-my Charms essay for t-two weeks" you said, crying harder and James pulled you closer to him.

James took a deep breath to try and calm himself down so he wouldn't run out to find the shitheads who did this to you because he knew you needed him here.

"Come on, love" he said, getting up and bringing you with him.

"But my things-"

"I'll take care of that, princess. I'm gonna draw you a bath, and we're gonna use Padfoot's fancy salts and soaps, just don't tell him, okay?" he said, kissing your forehead.

You smiled a little as James prepared the warm bath for you and as soon as you got in, you instantly felt at least ten times better.

"Where are you going?" you pouted when he walked towards the exit.

"I'm gonna get you some clean clothes, love" he said, giving you a peck on the lips before he walked out of the bathroom.

After you were clean and changed into James' pajama pants and your favorite sweater of his, you walked out to the dorm and saw James trying to salvage what was left of your bag.

"It's ruined, isn't it?" you asked, feeling a few tears in your eyes again, sitting down next to him.

"It's okay, princess. We're going to Hogsmeade this weekend and I will buy you any bag you like, okay?" he said, kissing your temple.

"Love, you don't have to do that" you insisted.

"I want to. I love spoiling you" he smiled, kissing your cheek.

"Still, I don't think I'll be able to go to Hogsmeade this week" you said, as James brushed his thumb against your cheek to wipe away your tears. "I have to redo my Charms essay" you explained. You noticed James tense a little before he took a deep breath. "What?"

"Alright, if I tell you something, do you promise not to get mad?"

"What did you do?" you asked, wiping your remaining tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

"W-well, sometimes when we're too busy with Quidditch or... well, pranks, Padfoot and I grab your homework and Moony's and... we kind of make copies of it" he said, going over to his nightstand and taking a few parchments out, handing them to you. You saw your Charms essay, the one that you had worked on for two weeks and had just finished at the library. It was just missing the last part, but everything else was there.

"How often do you do this?" you asked, going through the papers.

"We don't use them, we just, you know, make our own version of them. Only when we have Quidditch practice" he insisted but you looked up at him with an arched eyebrow. "Or when we forget there's homework" he admitted. "I'm sorry, love. I should have told you but-"

You cut James off by throwing your arms around his shoulders and kissing him on the lips. "I love you so much" you smiled.

"Y-you're not mad?"

"I'm not entirely happy about it and I doubt Remus will be either" you told him. "But you just saved me from having to re-write this entire essay" you smiled, bringing him closer for another kiss. "Thank you" you smiled.

"You're welcome, princess" he said, kissing you again. "Do you want to go down for dinner? You can point those kids to me so me and Padfoot can-"

"No" you said, hugging him. "Can we just stay here a little longer?" you asked, looking up at him, knowing he wouldn't be able to say no to you.

"Of course, princess" he said, lying down on his bed and bringing you with him. "Whatever you want" he said, kissing your temple as you rested your head on his chest. "I love you" he said, stroking your back, noticing you were almost asleep.

"I love you too" you said, closing your eyes and falling asleep in his arms while he mentally thought about letting Sirius in on this and plotting his revenge against the Slytherins.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: hope you liked it, loves :)

[satoruschapstic]

Is it too late for this young sinner to get baptized?

His scars were scattered across his body, yours were hidden deep inside. He was fiercely striving to die; you were desperately trying to live. He laughed at your naivety, you reproached his indifference. But you came together. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos you had created yourselves.

pairing: port mafia leader!osamu dazai x gn!reader

content: angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of suicide (c'mon it's dazai), mentions of guns, mentions of alcohol

a/n: wrote it for my precious @shamelessperfectionhideout as a reason to smile but we both ended up crying, i'm so sorry my love <3 also i'm extremely sorry for all the inaccuracies, i haven't read manga nor have i watched anime but i'm getting there! hope y'all enjoy <3

It felt so right. Every time your hand was in his, it felt so right. Like the stars that light up in the sky every night to illuminate the way. The moon and the stars knew you were in love. It was so right. It was so strange. It was like looking in a mirror, but the reflection is cracked, some shards missing. Your soulmate standing in front of you was shattered. You were so similar, yet so different. His scars were scattered across his body, yours were hidden deep inside. He was fiercely striving to die; you were desperately trying to live. He laughed at your naivety, you reproached his indifference. But you came together. Somewhere in the middle of the chaos you had created yourselves.

Every time you whispered a quiet "I love you," he was swept up in the desire to prolong his life, mentally crossing off a few new ways of killing himself. Every time you were hiding behind the bookshelves of one of the libraries, exploring the mysteries of the world, and stealing little kisses from each other, he found the meaning anew in his worthless life. Every time he was covering you from the rain with his long black trench coat, laughing like a child, while running across the road, flowers bloomed in your chest. Every time he kissed you senseless, you knew you couldn't tell him everything. And each time you made excuses for your weakness. You couldn't let him know the true you. Although, perhaps, only with him were you truly yourself.

Being the head of a special department in one of the mafia gangs was clearly not something you wanted to share with others, especially those so far out of the underworld. Osamu, too, had never revealed what specifically he was doing, because, in his opinion, you would have laughed at him. Yes, there were secrets between the two of you, but that lost any meaning when you looked into each other's eyes and reasoned about eternity. Only then, only in those moments, did you realize that this world wasn't so bad if he was in it. You hated the fact that your hands had blood up to your elbows and your eyes had seen such horrendous things that sometimes you wanted to rip them out of your eye sockets to make it all go dark at once. But when his fingers intertwined with yours and his soft lips touched your eyelids in the early morning hours, you loved to imagine that everything that had come before was a small grain of sand in the desert of your endless life, filled with tenderness and forgiveness, ease and hope. But all those dreams were swept away by the winds of anxiety and lies over which you ironically had absolute power.

Somewhere out there, outside the small apartment you shared, he was a small part of a bigger world, soaring up and crashing down, hoping that his last breath would happen here and now. But from the moment he met you, it seemed to him that he was finally standing firmly with his feet on the ground. The feelings he had around you made his heart beat faster, reminding him that he was alive, and then knocked the air out of his lungs as he watched you tuck a little daisy behind his ear.

Somewhere out there, outside the small apartment you shared, you were a part of the big game, blowing up whole buildings, sweeping up with hurricanes everything you could get your hands on. The air was always your element. You loved the feeling of flying, the wind in your hair, the whirlpools of tornadoes that rose over the water, the storms that put the lives of those at sea on the line. And you owned it all; you could wipe anyone from the face of Earth with an angry gust of wind just by lifting a finger. But from the moment you met Dazai, it seemed to you that you were in the constant act of falling, hovering only a few millimeters above the ground so as not to be smashed to pieces. The feelings you had around him lifted you to unprecedented heights, and then threw you sharply down when you saw the bandages covering a new section of his body.

But the mirror in which you both had been looking, seeing each other's reflections in it, shattered as the darkest parts of your lives saw the light. You were sitting in the office of the Port Mafia boss, surrounded by members of your gang, with your legs draped over the edge of a desk and your fingers tracing the spines of antique books. Things in the town were lousy, you had lost many important connections with partners, and now your adversaries in the Port Mafia were showing an undesirable interest in the territories that had been under your control from the very beginning. So for an hour, you waited for that boss that everyone in the area dreaded, lazily observing the crowd. You knew most of the Night Wardens, except for the infamous bandleader, who preferred to remain in the shadows. You weren't sure if these talks could be peaceful or bear any fruit, but you couldn't overcome your curiosity to see the Youngest Leader in the History of the Mafia with your own eyes.

Suddenly you heard a stirring, as everyone turned toward the doorway. You stretched your head to get a better look at the approaching figure. You frowned and then blinked a few times, as if you were trying to shake off a weird vision. It just couldn't possibly be real. A tall slim figure finally emerged from the shadows of the hallway. You swallowed hard. The bangs framed his face, while some were gathered at the center of his forehead. A couple of bandages covered his right eye and his right arm was in a sling. You couldn't have mistaken him for anyone else, no matter how much you wanted to.

"What the hell is she doing here?" his voice thundered. Dazai stopped in the middle of the room, casting a scornful glance at everyone present, his eyes never stopping on you.

"I asked the fucking question: what the hell is she doing here?" he reiterated, almost shouting, his cheekbones sharper than a knife as he clenched his teeth without getting a response once again. For the first time in your life, you heard his tone so harsh and his voice so loud. For the first time in your life, you were scared to death, bashfully removing your shaking legs from the table and sitting up straight. Yet you couldn't find the strength to look away from his face.

The next second, his tall figure approached you, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the office. You could barely follow him, stumbling as you went, clutching at everything you saw on your way, frantically trying to stay on your feet. You could hear the members of your gangs yelling as they watched your retreating figures, but before you could make out a single word, the door shut behind you with a rumbling thud. In an instant your back was pressed against the wall of the empty corridor, his hand a few inches from your face. He was hovering over you with his whole body, not giving you the faintest chance to slip away.

"What the hell is going on?" he hissed, lifting your head by the chin to look into your eyes for the first time so far. "What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?"

"So you're that scary Port Mafia boss everyone's so afraid of, Osamu?" your eyes ran across his face, hoping to see at least a glimpse of the man you knew.

"What the fuck are you doing here? I'm not going to play these stupid games. I'm asking you one last time," his hand squeezed your chin a little harder, causing you to press against the wall even further.

"I'm here to solve the problem with the territory your fucking organization is trying to steal from us. And as head of a special department, I couldn't let these negotiations pass me by without getting to know firsthand the man who's pulling off such dastardly schemes. Turns out it was you who ran it all along, when you weren't in bed with me," you pushed him away from you with force, freeing yourself from his iron grip.

Dazai froze for a moment, absorbing everything you just said to him, his eyes glittering for a second the way they did when you shared your little secrets, lying under the starry sky, hiding in each other's warmth. But then they grew even colder than they had ever been when he grabbed you by the collar of your coat, almost lifting you off the ground.

"So you've been double-teaming this whole time, like a fucking brat," he spat, full of rage looking you straight in the eye, his cheeks bulged with anger.

"I haven't done anything I can't blame you for, either," you retorted, clawing at the fabric of his coat with your fingernails.

At that moment, there was a banging on the door, someone was yelling threats and insults, asking for you to return to your seat, or the scuffle would start right then and there. You both fell silent, turning toward the locked door. In the next second, Dazai unlocked his fingers, shoving you aside and, swinging the doors open with his foot, knocking several people down in the process, went to the exit of the building.

"Deal with it yourselves, I'm leaving," he barked before disappearing from sight.

Everyone in the room followed his figure with a bewildered look and then turned to face you. With the rest of your dignity clenched in your fists, you got up from the floor, shook off your clothes, and headed for the exit without saying a word.

Your paths never crossed again, and you didn't know where he was or what was happening to him all that time. Strangely enough, but it was indeed true that the port mafia retreated and no longer laid claim to your domain, and everything was resolved without argument or gunfight. And that was probably the most painful thing to realize that it was unequivocally his decision alone. You didn't seek meetings with him and tried desperately to erase him, but he wouldn't disappear in any way. You saw him in the faces of passersby, and every time you turned a corner, looking over your shoulder, you thought he was standing there.

Your paths never crossed, but sometimes you'd hear stories of new, particularly exquisite murders, and you'd realize that he'd been behind them. You couldn't believe that you might once have seen him as your soul mate, shared shelter and food, held his wound-riddled hand, found in him a reflection of yourself. It was funny to think about it now that you knew what was behind his wrecked exterior, and you realized that you were more alike than you'd ever imagined. It was terrifying.

Your paths had not crossed for a long time, but now they did. When the news about the boy whose head was being offered for seven billion Yen on the black market spread all over the town, it'd be foolish to believe that the executive of the most powerful mafia in town wouldn't want to get it for himself. And so you met on the doorstep of the dormitory, where the boy who was your common target was sleeping peacefully.

"I didn't expect to see you here," he walked slowly toward you, hiding his face in the raised collar of his coat.

"The whole town is aware of this deal, the stakes are high, so why shouldn't I be here?" you raised your head higher, showing with every ounce of your face that you're not going to back down.

"I didn't know they sent minions on missions like this," he grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets, "there have to be more professional people for that."

"Then what are you doing here?" you said, looking him up and down.

"Get out of my way," he pointed his fingers to the side, "I have no desire to waste time with useless talk, back off or I'll make you."

"Try," you chuckled, motioning your hand, and in that second, everything dimmed, the sky darkened, and two small tornadoes formed beside you, waiting to consume everything around.

Dazai's eyes widened, as the wind whipped across his face, tangling his hair and limiting his ability to see. "Impressive, would you scatter in the wind the only person who got into bed with you?"

"Why are you so bitter all of a sudden, don't you like it when someone else can have secrets besides you?" you raised an eyebrow, casting more streams of air over him.

His coat fluttered in the wind, forming the semblance of black raven wings behind his back. Dazai only pushed his feet even harder into the ground, leaning forward, his whole body resisting shifting.

"I had no fucking secrets, I wanted to keep you safe from the horror that surrounded me," he was now bursting into a scream in an attempt to shout down the wind. "And you brazenly lied to me, pretending to be just a nice little girl who wanted to save another poor boy. Only I'm not the poor boy. I don't need your fucking salvation."

"Osamu, I..." you tried to discern his face in the endless stream of sand and dust, swirling into more tornadoes, now surrounding you in a semicircle.

"You were the only person I could go to and foolishly trust to have you turn out to be a stalker, watching my every move. I must admit it was a smart move, I underestimated your organization, but they should have chosen someone less naïve and weak," he spat sarcastic remarks, trying to soothe that aching pain in his heart, hoping in his mind that it was from it that he would die here and now, and this time forever.

"I didn't follow you, for fuck's sake," tears streamed down your cheeks, "I knew nothing about you except that you were a nice and wounded little guy. A guy I felt happy to be with. I loved you sincerely, I would never do that to you," you screamed, dropping your hands and stopping the spinning of the air. Everything around you froze: pieces of torn fabric, packages, tree branches, stones left from destroyed buildings slowly floated in place, only to collapse with a deafening crash to the ground a second later, raising a column of dust in the air. That was enough for Dazai to be next to you in a moment, grabbing your hand and pulling you to him with force.

"Let me go," you whispered, vainly trying to pull away, "I don't want to hurt you, don't make me, please."

"You know that one touch from me is enough to neutralize your ability, they told you that, didn't they?" his face twisted into a grimace of morbid pleasure. Seeing your eyes widen, he laughed, "Did they forget such an important detail about me? It seems I was right about your organization, a bunch of garbage that should be chased out of our town.

You didn't know what to answer, because you simply didn't know what you were going for when you drove here without the rest knowing.

"Now come with me," he gripped your hand a little tighter, "and I will kill that boy in front of you in the most ingenious way so that you can tell your bosses about it in detail later, when you are in a hurry to pack your gear to flee town before I come for your heads."

"You will not hurt this child, Osamu. No one is going to do him any harm," you stared confidently into his dark eyes, gleaming under the light of the lone moon.

"What are you talking about? Are you out of your mind?" his eyebrows knitted into a thin line, "there's more money for this boy's head than you could ever imagine, and all that money will be mine." He dragged you toward the entrance to the dormitory, holding you firmly by your forearm.

"Wait, just hold on a minute, listen to me," you grabbed the hem of his coat in an attempt to stop him. "You're right, I really was playing a double game, I really was a fucking spy," you exhaled, trying to get more air in your lungs so that you could tell him everything before he would blatantly interrupt you. "I pretended to be a different person, but I never did it around you."

Dazai paused, looking at you with a baffled expression, his lips parted slightly in attempt to utter something, but almost immediately he shut himself up, giving you a chance to continue.

"I was spying. But not on you. All this time I was working for the agency, I was supposed to join the ranks of this group and break it down from within. Getting rid of them, one by one or all at once, it didn't really matter. All this time they were my main task, not you, Osamu, please believe me.

Dazai, who hadn't expected such a revelation, remained dazedly silent as his eyes darted from your face to the sign behind your back that said The Armed Detective Agency dormitory. His eyebrows rose, returning the boyish look to his face. Thoughts jumbled in his head wondering how he could have fucked up like that. Surely you were too good for someone who could get involved with the goddamn mafia. He blamed himself for such a slip and for just being able to have that kind of thought about you. He regretted that he had never been able to drown himself that day when he saw you in his office: frightened but so driven. A heavier stone and the bottom of the sea, hidden in the darkness of the stormy waters, that's what he really deserved.

"Osamu, I know that deep down you're not like that at all. You're just a lost man who has failed to make sense of right and wrong, a man who deserves the best but always chooses the worst for himself," you gently reached out to him, tentatively placing your hand on his cheek, gently running your finger along his bandage. "We can make the only right decision now and let the kid live. You know your heart is not so evil, Osamu. Stay with me, join the agency, we can be together, we can right the wrongs of the past."

The rising wind, as if by your hand, gently brushed the fallen strands from his face, exposing his eyes that shimmered like two small agates. He flattered at your gentle touch, remembering what it was like to be loved so tenderly and delicately. Your words echoed in his head, intertwined with the last words Oda said before he died in his arms. Maybe he really should have tried to live right. Perhaps he really should have tasted life filled with your presence and the right thoughts. But...

He pulled away from you abruptly, brushing your hand aside, "How can I possibly trust you when all you do is lie. You lied to me, you lie to all the members of your motherfucking organization, you lie to yourself when you wake up every fucking morning. Your whole life is a lie. Our whole life has been a deception."

"There will be no more secrets between us, I promise, if you come with me, I will never keep anything from you again. Just trust me...like the first time when you allowed me to bandage your shredded wrists. I'll be there to mend all your wounds. I promise... I still love you, Osamu."

He shuddered at the mere mention of his name, and how gentle it sounded coming from your lips. He recoiled, unable to look you in the eye anymore. His lips formed a thin line, his hands dropped down.

"Do what you have to Y/N. Protect this child. Not me," he turned around and strode hurriedly away, wrapping himself in the coat, trying to find at least a drop of warmth on this windy night. And he never looked back.

You shouted his name watching his fading figure, and raised your hand to try and stop him, but almost immediately lowered it, unable to hurt him more than you already had. The merciless wind rippled your open coat, sending a bunch of goosebumps down your back. But that was not the reason you were cold whatsoever.

Two years have passed since the night his dark figure vanished into the arms of the night. You heard that no one else had seen him in town after that. Only occasionally you heard rumors from other distant corners of the country that he had been spotted in bars, where he ordered the same drink every time, and, drunk as a skunk, left the place and the town. You wondered if it was your own kind of credit that he left the port mafia, or if he just couldn't stomach the idea of even being in the same town as you. Either way, it seemed to you that you could never find solace in walking in the places where you had learned to live together without depending on the world. You spent two years continuing to work for the agency, fighting for what you used to think was good and true. Not forgetting his face even for a moment.

It was one morning when, gathered in the conference room, you and the other detectives were noisily discussing what action should be taken against the Port Mafia, which was once again rampaging, when you were interrupted by the sound of President Fukuzawa's hoarse voice.

"I know you're very much in the middle of something, but I want to introduce you to a new member of our agency," he said firmly, stepping aside to reveal a figure leaning against the door jamb. He wore a long sand-colored trench coat, the belt of which was untied, he had bandages wrapped around his entire body; everything about him was the same only that his face was left uncovered.

You rose from your seat, open-mouthed, unable to believe your eyes. His brown eyes looked only at you, and then he smiled with the corners of his lips, winking at you before he muttered a quiet, "Hello, little spy".

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! <3

[maelstroumwaterfall]

Arbormagic Sydrome (The End Of The Wizarding World) | Hogwarts Mystery Infection AU Chapter 7

(Warning: Blood; Description of disturbing scenes.)

Chapter 7 | Not her time yet

- No! It's all my fault!.. I must find her! - were the last words Barnaby heard before he had to rush after Penny to stop her from going to the Forbidden Forest alone. She was running towards the front doors, she was sure it was her fault that Tonks went missing.

She ran out of the castle, sobbing and wiping her tears. Many people have already been asked and nobody knew when the young witch could be. Tonks was last seen at Olivander's and nobody saw her since she leaved that place.

- Penny, no! - Barnaby called out after her and after a few moments reached to catch her. She tried to pull out of his grip but he held her close as he couldn't let her put herself in danger. - You can't just go to the Forbidden Forest and look for her, especially in such condition! You need to stay in hospital wing. She can be anywhere, you'll only put yourself in danger this way..

She made a few more attempts to get away while listening to him, but his words made her stop for a moment and let her regain her breath. Her voice was trembling, not just cause she was sobbing but also due to the cold wind that made her shiver. - But what if something happened to her? What if she needs our help?..

He couldn't find the words that would comfort her. Just staying at Hogwarts wasn't easy for him either, he would probably go to search for Tonks with Penny, but he just can't let her go anywhere in this condition and besides.. it wasn't like he himself felt good. He felt symptoms similar to the myalgia, his veins and muscles were aching and he couldn't get rid of the constant exhaustion with any sleep.

- She's being rescued. I'm sure she'll soon be found. It'll not help the situation if we also go missing. - as he said it he felt like some of her tears fell down on his hands. He felt like crying himself when he saw her suffering so much. She's haunted by the guilt and constant pain.

She's been transferred to the hospital wing recently, it enabled Barnaby to spend more time with her, but also to see in how much pain she's in. She had to constantly get the wounds she causes herself disinfected, but then she would still keep scratching them futher, causing even more harm to her already damaged skin.

Her eyes were red and irritated cause she was barely able to sleep, he could also hear her always crying at night. He was trying to comfort her, but it wouldn't help the agony of pain she was going through. Nobody knew what was going on with her.

She just leaned back in his arms and buried her head in his chest while the tears kept falling down her cheeks. Lee tried to comfort her and gently stroked her back while holding her close to himself, hoping it would help to relieve her pain, at least just a little bit.

-------------

- So you're sure it was him? - Murk whispered so only Rowan and Merula would hear. They were in the library as Merula stated this place for her meeting with Ismelda and it happened that she also took Rowan with her.

Merula told her about what happened in the Slytherin common room and how Maelström sneaked in her dorm room while she slept. Rowan still felt very conflicted, like he's betraying his best friend. He really wanted to trust Waterfall but just couldn't after everything he saw him doing.

- I know it. It couldn't be anyone else. And what happened at the Care For Magical Creatures lesson just proved it! - Snyde responded and glanced at them to see if they understand what she means.

- You mean.. That Kneazle attacked him cause he was a danger? - Rowan asked her and immediately remembered the terrible pictures of his friend screaming in agony and his bare skin that was torn off his face. He felt like his mind became dizzy again, it was definitely a very heavy and traumatic memory for him.

- I would choose a word "scum" instead of "danger", but yes, that's exactly what I mean. Professor Kettleburn told us that Kneazles have an uncanny ability to detect untrustworthy people. Isn't what happened with Maelström not a proof that he hides something? - she noticed how Rowan was struggling with the memories about his friend and couldn't help but felt a kind of pity for him.

Two Slytherins looked at eachother and nodded. For Ismelda it was more like a game, she was just curious about the whole situation while Rowan's intention was to understand if Maelström needs help or is a danger to others.

- You're probably right. I - Ismelda didn't manage to finish as she was interrupted by Rowan. His tone was uncertain but he felt like the idea makes sense.

- You said something about the traces on your wand, right? - Rowan looked at Merula and she nodded. She was a little surprised at his sudden interruption but she was curious about what he had in mind. - What if it's a creature? I mean.. A magical creature?

Both girls glanced at him with questioning expression and he had no other choice but to continue.

- Well.. I haven't heard of such things before but.. there could probably be magical insects that can live in wood? Like.. Literally merge with it. - he suggested, feeling a little foolish but he noticed that Merula really had some thoughts about it now.

- Or it gets into the people's bodies through their ears while they sleep! - was Murk's suggestion that made both Rowan and Merula scowl in disgust. - What? That would actually explain Waterfall's behaviour.

- What if both? - Merula suddenly exclaimed and caught Madam Pince's attention. She made her tone more silent and bent down to Rowan and Ismelda so they could hear her better. - It would explain why Maelström sneaked into my dorm room.. And why he stole my wand too..

- And it would explain the Kneazle's reaction to Maelström. I mean.. Maelström isn't a bad person as you might think.. What if the Kneazle could somehow detect this.. creature? - Rowan still hoped that they were wrong about Maelström. He knew him more than any of them. He couldn't just pretend to get on well with him this whole time, could he?

- We might do some research on it. I would ask Professor Kettleburn about Kneazles if he only was at Hogwarts.. - Merula thought about who else she might ask about these creatures when Ismelda suddenly spoke up.

- Why not ask Filch? He cares about Mrs. Norris like she's his wife. Sure he knows everything about the species of her beloved. - that was actually a good idea from Ismelda. Merula didn't expect her to finally say something useful but it happened just in time.

- Then I'll go and find him right now. It's almost a curfew so I must hurry. You can look for more information here in the library while I'm gone. - Merula stood up from the seat and was already about to go out of the library and rush to find Filch. It was already late but she still had some time.

Both Rowan and Murk accepted her plan and Merula was already walking down the corridor to find the Hogwarts' caretaker. It was very dark in there, the moonlight that came through the windows was the only thing that could help her to navigate in the confusing row of the corridors and the staircases.

She couldn't help but noticed how silent it was there. Almost every student was already in their common or dorm room to avoid being caught by Filch.

As Merula walked she felt like having a some kind of peace. She took a deep breath and relaxed her lungs, she felt quite good. How long ago she had such feeling? She couldn't help but remembered the moments when she lived at her house with her parents, when she could sleep with the feeling that when she wakes up she'll see her mom and dad that love her, and then she suddenly remembered all the times when she woke up with only the feelings of loneliness and longing in her heart.

She learnt to ignore those feelings over time, but they still were constantly haunting her. She tried to push these thoughts away, she's not a child anymore. She was a child before, the one who got everything she had taken away. Now she was absolutely different person, right?

She couldn't answer the question in her head now. Suddenly, she heard someone's steps through the sound of her own. She immediately stopped and regretted that she didn't rush away as soon as she heard these footsteps. This someone sounded like his legs were moving randomly but rapidly, and when Merula wanted to turn and see who it was she suddenly felt someone's strong, death grip from behind.

It stumbled her legs and covered her mouth so she wouldn't be able scream. She didn't need much to see who it was. The side of eye enabled her to see Waterfall's distorted face. He tore his bandages off and his bloody, clawed off face was bare and even more disgusting. She felt like vomiting when she noticed how there were long, squirming worms moving under his bare skin. At least they looked like worms..

His only eye looked like it will fall out while the other one was replaced by the black hole that also had these worms coming out. This was everything she noticed in these two seconds before she barely managed to block the sharp knife that threatened to cut her throat.

She yelled in pain as she sharp metal pierced through her palm but she held onto it. She wouldn't give up her life so easily. Nobody could hear her screaming as her voice was muffled by the attacker's palm. She clenched her palm onto the knife even through it was bringing her the almost unbearable pain, she needed to do that to stay alive.

- DIE YOU WORTHLESS SLUT!!!! DIE!!!! - Waterfall yelled loudly, causing the blood fall out of his distorted mouth filled with the countless amount of worm-like creatures. Saying that he sounded absolutely mad is like saying nothing.

She felt like her mind became dizzy and how she was slowly losing control over her hand due to the sharp and burning pain. It felt like the knife pierced her bones and that she couldn't last holding this knife any longer anymore. This was a rare moment when she wanted to call, yell, beg for someone's help but she just couldn't.

That wasn't like she wanted her life to end.

( Btw Mrs. Norris is a Kneazle in my au ;> Thnx for reading 🩷🌟💝)

[lotrefcp]

Shame - One Shot

pairing/AU: Joel Miller x female!reader

summary: You try to run from Joel but he doesn't let go that easy...

warnings: Murder, torture, body image issues, blood, angst, fluff. 18+

word count: 2800+

SHAME

Joel and Ellie had arrived in Jackson for two weeks when he saw you for the first time. A group of raiders had been spotted on the city's borders and the patrol group, which Joel soon became part of, was called in to prevent them from reaching its gates. You were on your way home after a day of work at the library when you saw the commotion that was happening. Looking a little more closely, you realized that everyone there was part of the patrol, immediately understanding what was going on. You quickly ran to your home and, opening the trunk that was at the bottom of your bed, you took your shotgun and returned to the place where you had seen them. Being concerned with developing a plan and distributing positions to each of the men, they only noticed your presence when you were already among them.

“Y/N, what are you doing here?”, Tommy asked, being taken by surprise to see you there.

“What are you doing here?” you also asked.

“We’re just planning today’s patrol. No big deal.”, he replied, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

"Seriously? Bullshit.”, you ended up saying. “You've had patrols planned for weeks. They're always the same. Why should things change today? There’s a group nearby, isn't there?”

They all looked at each other without knowing what to say. They didn't want to alarm anyone and you didn't need to know the risk the population of Jackson was running at that time. Only Joel, without understanding why they were trying to hide what was happening when, clearly, you already knew it, noticed the gun in your hand.

“Tommy,” Joel began, “don’t embarrasse yourself. She arrived here better prepared to fight than you were to lie. Y/N, right?, he asked looking at you.

"Yes."

“I'm Joel. Tommy, she comes in my group.”

“But she is not trained for these situations.”

“Tommy, have you forgotten how I got here?”, you asked in a quieter voice. He looked at you and looked down.

“No, I haven’t forgotten. And that’s why I don’t want you involved in something like that again.”

"Don’t worry about me. Worry about them."

And so, shortly after, everything was prepared and the group of patrollers, with you by their side, went out in search of the raiders that were posing a threat.

After that night, and the many hours you spent side by side chasing the criminals who wanted to invade Jackson, meetings between the two of you became more frequent. He discovered that you worked at the library when he went there once with Ellie, starting to visit you several times when he had nothing to do or to keep you company, although solitude was something you liked. That's why you chose to work there. Few people, during a pandemic, wanted to know about books or cultivating themselves. But even though you enjoyed being alone, Joel's presence didn't bother you. He only spoke when it was really necessary, and he helped you in some situations where you needed more strength than you had. Ellie's visits also started to become routine, always looking for something to pass the time.

At the end of one of the many days that Joel stopped by the library to keep you company, he asked you if you had any plans for when you got off work.

“Plans? Here?”, you replied with an amused look.

"Right. Do you want to keep me company for dinner?” Your stomach turned in on itself. It was because of situations like these that solitude was your best companion.

“I don’t know if I should.”

"Why? Aren’t you going to get dinner today?”

“I was thinking about it.”

“So the problem is my company.”

“No, nothing like that. If your company was a problem, I wouldn't let you into my workplace. You don’t even read.”, you ended up saying with a small laugh.

Joel was immensely pleased with the sound of your laughter. He didn't remember hearing it before. He didn't know how or why, but as time went by, he began to feel the need to be close to you, to feel you by his side, even without talking for hours. And the sound of your laughter was the final straw, it was the moment he realized that, for the first time in a long time, for the first time since Tess, he had feelings for a woman. Even with Tess, he never gave himself completely. But there, with you, in a place that offered more security and a possibility of a future, he could imagine himself, finally, with someone by his side.

“So?” he asked again.

"Okay. I’ll keep you company.”, you finally said, after a few seconds of silence. “Let me just close everything and we can go.”

At that dinner you talked more than you had in all the time you had known each other. You talked about Joel's relationship with Tommy, how he got there, about Ellie and how they met. When the conversation turned to you, Joel didn't know much about it.

“I arrived here after fleeing Kansas after the QZ crashed.”

“Did you manage to escape Kathleen?”

“Yes, me and a group of 6 people. But wait, do you know Kathleen?”

"I knew. She tried to kill me and Ellie.”

“And she let you go?”

"She is dead. There was an attack by a group of infected and they killed them all.”

"Seriously? Well, it seems that everyone really gets what they deserve.”

“But you said you left there with six other people. Do I know them? Where do they work?”

“You don’t know any of them. Unfortunately, I arrived here alone.”, you said, placing your fork on the plate and moving it away from you.

"Sorry. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“You don’t have to apologize. Well, I think it's time to go home. See you one of these days.”

“Don’t you want me to accompany you?”

“No.”, you replied, getting up from your chair. “I prefer to go alone. Be well."

“You too.”, Joel said, seeing you leaving the canteen in a hurry. You didn't want anyone to see you crying.

The next day he was helping Tommy reinforce the gate and only found you at dinner time.

“May I?”, Joel asked, tray in hand, on the other side of the table where you were.

"Of course. I thought you got fed up with me yesterday.”

“Don’t tell me you missed me in the library today?”

“I didn’t miss you.”, you said, trying to hide the truth. “But a man your size takes up some space, and today I had more to move around.”

“Today, when we finish eating, can I walk you home?”

“Walk me home? Why?"

“I don’t know, so we can catch up?”

“So the conversation is up to date? We never speak. What conversation do you want to catch up on, since yesterday?”

“Okay, can you stop being stubborn and let me take you home?”, Joel said, not knowing what else to say.

“If you really need to take me home, that’s fine. You can take me home.”

“You can see how much easier it is this way.”

“You’re not very good with words, are you?”, you asked with a contained laugh.

"Why are you saying that?"

“When I said no, your only response was to call me stubborn and speak in a threatening tone?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

"You're right. I will no longer discuss your method.”

At the end of the meal, everyone picked up their tray and dumped the dirty dishes in the kitchen, leaving the canteen. Outside, the wind was rising and the cold was felt. You shivered a little, something Joel noticed.

“Here.”, he said as he took off his coat and tried to put it on your shoulders.

"What are you doing?"

“Hmmmm. Trying to protect you from the cold?”, he asked in surprise. It had been a long time since he had accompanied a woman home. Had the ritual changed that much? They used to like these little gestures.

“Thank you, but there’s no need.”

“Don’t say that. I saw that you shivered and I already took off my coat.”

"OK thanks. Since you insist. But it’s not necessary.”

"Why? If you’re cold, why isn’t it necessary?”, Joel asked again with a bit of a lack of patience. You smiled seeing him so confused.

“You will understand in a while, my gentleman.” And saying this you began to walk side by side towards your house. Joel was about to start talking when you interrupted him.

"Here we are."

“Here, where?”

"In my house. Didn't you want to bring me home? Here we are." Joel looked at the building in front of him and back at the cantina you had abandoned just seconds before.

“Do you live ten steps from the canteen?”

“Now do you understand why I didn’t need company? Or your coat? It took you longer to get it out than it took me to get home.” Joel didn't know what to say, keeping his gaze bouncing between the canteen and your house.

“Okay, then I’ll have to do it without preparing myself.”

“What are you talking about? Prepare for what?” And, without saying a single word, Joel approached you, so slowly that you could understand what was about to happen. You still tried to stop him, to say that you didn't want that to happen, but you couldn't lie, neither to him nor to yourself. His hands began to come up and gently grabbed your face, one on each side, in a way you didn't think was possible given the strength and work those hands had known. You were still admiring the lightness of his touch when you felt his lips on yours, soft, careful. When he realized that you hadn't rejected him right away, he began to deepen the kiss, forcing his tongue on your lips, searching for yours. You quickly let him in and took your hands to his hair, making your fingers get lost in his always well-combed curls. It was in the middle of this passionate kiss that you suddenly came to your senses and pushed him with both hands against his chest.

"Stop."

"Why? Did I do something wrong? Were you not enjoying it?”

“It has nothing to do with it.”

"Then what?"

"Forget it. I have to go inside. See you tomorrow."

“But...”, Joel tried to continue but you were already closing the door to your house. You leaned against it and controlled your breathing, while you also tried to decipher the moment in which he left. When you heard his footsteps moving away, you took a deep breath and went into the bathroom. Entering the space you took a quick shower, taking advantage of the low water pressure and, heading towards your room, you dropped the towel you had wrapped around your body and stood in front of the mirror. The tears fell down your face again.

Joel arrived at his house and called for Ellie. She hadn't arrived yet. He sat on the small sofa in the living room and looked at the window, trying to understand what had happened. He relived every moment, the taste of your lips, the passion he put into the kiss and that he also felt in your response, and he didn't understand the reason for your reaction. After spending some time in the same place he decided he couldn't spend the night without knowing what he had done wrong. He left his house and headed towards yours. You were already in bed when you heard someone knocking on the door. Very suspiciously you went to open it.

“Joel? What are you doing here?” you asked when you saw him on the other side of the door.

“Can I come in?” he asked.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I just want to talk to you. That’s it."

You didn't know what to say for a few moments. “Okay, come in. Do you want a glass of water?”

"No, thank you. I just really want to talk to you. Can we sit down?”

"Of course. Sit down in that chair.”, you replied while sitting on the bed, your house smaller than Joel's, it didn't have a living room.

“Can’t I sit next to you?”

“Here in the bed? Hmm. Sure, but why?”

“I don’t want to be this far away talking to you.”, he replied as he sat down next to you and forced you to turn towards him. “What happened just a few hours ago?”

"With what?"

“With the kiss. If you didn't want me to kiss you, why did you kiss me back? Did I do something wrong? I know I haven't kissed anyone in a long time. Did I hurt you unintentionally?”

"Stop. No, you didn't do anything wrong. No, you didn't hurt me. And I kissed you back because I wanted to, because I liked feeling your lips on mine.”

“Then why did you run away?”

“Because I can’t give you anything else.”

"Anything else?"

“Yes, what comes after the kiss.”

“Are you talking about sex? But we only shared a kiss.”

“But at some point we were going to get to sex.”

“And you don’t want to have sex with me, is that it? Don’t you find me attractive?”

"That's not it."

“Are you a virgin?”

"Of course not."

“It’s okay if you are.”

"But I'm not."

"Then?"

“I’m...”, you stopped, not knowing how to continue. “I’m ashamed of my body, of what it went through.”

“Of your body?”

“You don't know what I went through at QZ in Kansas. They liked to torture when they wanted to know the location of someone who had escaped. I was shot, I was stabbed, I was burned.”, you said, starting to feel the tears running down your face. “When I fled, and until I arrived here, I encountered a lot of evil along the way. You asked the other night why you didn't know anyone from the group I ran away with. And I told you I got here alone. I just didn't tell you that the others didn't come with me because they died along the way. The last of my companions died protecting me, because I got distracted and turned my back on a raider. In the end, while he was slitting my colleague's throat, I pointed a gun at the back of his head and fired. He fell on top of the already dead body of the one who tried to protect me. I'm just a reflection of what I was, my body is just a distorted version of what it once was. A body that reminds me of everything I've been through and a body that I'm ashamed of. And a body that no one can desire. So it’s better to stop now, before you regret taking this further.”

“I'm sorry for everything you've been through. I'm sorry for everything they did to you, but if all this changed you, it was only making you a stronger woman, a brave woman, a woman who joined the city's men to kill a group of raiders. A woman like that can't be ashamed of anything.”, and saying this he kissed you again, this time without asking permission. You still tried to resist but soon gave up, giving yourself completely. He broke the kiss and without moving his face away from yours, he opened his eyes. "Let me see you".

“Didn’t you hear what I just said?”

"I did. And you decided that I wouldn't want anything to do with you because of your body. I think I can decide for myself.”

"I can’t do that."

“Do you trust me?”, he asked, forcing you to look directly into his eyes.

“Yes.”, you replied fearfully.

“No... don’t cover yourself up.” You slowly lowered your arms, exposing yourself to Joel's eyes. He looked at you slowly, calmly, appreciating every inch of skin.

"Let me see you." And saying this, he took his hands to the hem of your shirt, lifting it and taking it off. You immediately raised your arms, crossing them in front of your stomach and chest.

Your ribs and right breast were burned, your skin was wrinkled from the heat of the burning oil on the right side of your body, your stomach bore several scars from stab wounds, your left shoulder bore the mark of a poorly treated bullet wound that infected.

“Don’t look at me like that. You can leave whenever you want.”

"Leave? Why?"

"Why? Because of this.”, you replied, pointing at yourself.

“Y/N. Scars are just that. Scars, marks of things from the past. You are so beautiful, even with those marks. They are the ones that make you who you are.” He came closer to you again and kissed you more sweetly, nibbling your lower lip, trying to swallow your mouth in one go. He moved away from you and brought his mouth to your forehead, kissing it. “You are beautiful. And I just want you to be mine.”, he ended up saying, hugging you and pressing you against his chest, feeling your tears wetting his shirt...

TAG: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @beckysmiler @wowtory @pedroschmedro @dandilionbuttercup-blog

[wowzah2nd]

"I'm Glad I Did"

Draco Malfoy x Reader

WordCount: 4k

You and Draco have been married 19 years now, but the start of your relationship did have a bit of downs but eventually you life started to look up as the years went on and you both couldn't be happier.

You and draco have been married  for 19 years now, it was rough in the beginning of your relationship, especially being in different houses. Him being in slytherin and you being in hufflepuff. You were a pureblood that was from overseas and moved to hogwarts in your 5th years that was when you first met.

Quick flash back 

 You were walking down the hall rushing to the library, you woke up a bit later than usual and were running late to meet a friend to help with their homework. As you were running you bumped into someone

Boy: watch where you going

 He then got up, as he was getting up you followed him with your eyes till they met him, you stared at them for a long time admiring them till you snapped out of it.

Y/N: oh my goddess i am so so sorry i wasn’t watching were i was going and i didnt mean to run into you

You saying all this while trying to pick up tha books you had ended up you then look up at him again this time he was the one staring at you causing you to panic

Y/N: oh my gosh is there something on my face

You rubbing your face trying to get whatever you thought may be stuck to it, then looking back at him 

He then started to blush realising he had been caught staring at you 

Boy: n-no i was just looking to see if you needed help

That made you stop panicking, you saw his robes after you bumped, you knew they were green which surprised you even more he would wanna help you

Y/N: you wanna help me?

Boy: Y-yeah it was also my fault i was really looking either 

He then knelt in front of you to help pick up you books, you couldn't help but feel a warm feeling in your chest when he help you

You then saw him look up at you causing you to look down and continue picking up your books. Once all your books were picked up you got up and so did he then handing you books back to you.

Y/N: thank you for the help

Boy: no worries it was the least i could do

 He was about to walk away before you stopped him 

Y/N: HEY, could i get you name you never told me 

Boy: you don't know who I am 

He said in a confused tone as if i was suppose to know it 

Y/N: sorry i'm new here so i don’t know everyone in my year yet,

He then made a face in relation as if the pisces just started to fit together 

Boy: no wonder i didn't recognise you, you new duh?

He started to laugh at himself but you decided to stop him since he still hadn’t answer your previous questions 

Y/N: you still haven’t told me your name stranger  

You giggle at him 

Boy: oh right, My name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy

Y/N: well thank  you Draco Malfoy for your help 

You then put out you free hand to give him a hand shake

Y/N: My name is Y/N L/N nice to meet you 

End flashback 

That was the first time you had met him and you both admitted it was both the best days of your life and the most life changing. Over the years you got to know each other more and more and since you were pure blood it was easy to talk to him. Most of the Syltherin didn’t mind you coming around but some did give you looks such as Pansy Parkinsons. You really hated her. She always had something to say to you, even though you were nothing but nice to her.

Your mother always taught you to never let anything get to you and if someone was bullying you to always kill them with kindness. But that never alway ways worked. One particle day really got you and you didn't leave you room the whole day not even for classes which worried draco

Flash back 

Draco Pov 

Apparently Draco had been looking for you and came all the way to the hufflepuff common room to try and look for you. Even waiting for a hufflepuff near the entrance to get to you since he wasn’t friends with anyone from your house besides you. He  stoped a hufflepuff girl and ask about you

Draco: Hey, by any chance do you know Y/N L/N 

Girl: Yeah ofc everyone knows her, why?

Draco: i just haven't seen her all day and im getting worried 

The girl then made a nervous face, saying that she knew where you were 

Draco: w-what happen to her you clearly know

Girl:... she been in her room all day we don’t know what's wrong she won’t talk to anyone from any year and the whole house is worried about her 

Draco then made a worried expression what could have happened to you to make you stay in your room all day 

Draco: can you please let me in i need to see her and see if she's okay 

The girl thought for a moment then decided to let draco in, probably knowing you two were friends. No one would stop talking about the slytherin prince always hanging out with the sweet hufflepuff princess

The girl knocked on the barrel as the password and let draco in, she then let draco up into the girls dormitory and led him to Y/N rooms

Y/N pov

You were laying face down on the bed eye still full of tears, you havent been able to stop crying all day. Usually you didn’t let anything bother you this much but this one particular thing really got you and you were doubting yourself more then ever 

As you were crying you hear a know at the door, thinking it was another hufflepuff house mate being worried you tried to shoo them away 

Y/N: please go away i said i was fin 

The knocking stopped but a voice you recognised surprised you 

Draco: Hey, it me i've been worried about you all day can i please come in to see you 

You contemplated not letting him in but in the end you decided there was no point fighting it. Anyone could have unlocked your room but everyone was too considerate to try but draco with all the worry you could hear in his voice you knew he’d come in either way 

So you got out of bed, made your way to the door, unlocked it then headed back to laying facing away from the door . Draco immediately entered the room and looked around to find you laying in your bed. He made his way towards you and decided to sit down in your bed

Draco: what's got you all down in the dumps love

You always had a weakness for the nickname he gave you 

Y/N: nothing you should be worrying about, you can go now 

You still won’t look in his direction trying to hide the tears flowing from your eyes, at this point draco was more worried than ever so he decided to get in your personal space. He grabbed you shoulder softly and encouraged you to face him.

And you didn't really didn’t have it in you to fight him off so you turned to face him. ONce he saw the tear in your eye his heart broke and he leaned down towards you and gave you a hug and you gave him a hug back and ended up crying even more.

Draco: What happened to love?

Y/N: you’ll think it’s stupid 

You said still crying 

Draco: nothing you ever say will be stupid to me 

You stayed silent for a bit and draco waited patiently for you to tell him 

Y/N: someone came up to me yesterday asking why someone like you would want to hang around me. I tried to defend myself by saying we're friends but then she said no that can’t be it's probably because I'm your pet since I seem to follow you around. 

You decided to sit up and sit next to him but you couldn't look him in the eye, scared that maybe you were just a pet to him. There was always a saying that every slytherin had their pet hufflepuff and maybe you weren't friends. Maybe you were just a dumb pet.

Draco then gently held you chin and pulled it to face your face so that you now facing him,  the expression he was showing wasn’t one of malice but one of someone who was really worried and cared for you 

Draco: Who said this?

Y/N: I dont wanna tell you

Draco: please tell me love who said this to you 

You paused for a moment contemplating in the end you told him 

Y/N: it was your friend Pansey 

Draco got up from where he was sitting and started to pace angrily, you thought he was mad at you so you decided to apologise for telling him, that made him stop pacing and kneeled in front of you

Draco: I'm not mad at you love i could never be mad at you. I'm mad that my own friend called you my pet, you are not my pet. You're not my pet, you my dearest friend.

It made you happy to hear you weren't some pet to him but you were also sad that he only saw you as a friend since if you had to tell the truth you were madly in love with him ever since you first bumped into him. You looked draco in the eye and noticed he was getting a bit nervous and this worried you 

Y/N: draco are you okay you look nervous, did io do something 

Draco immediately looked back at you 

Draco:no no you didn’t…i just don’t know if i should tell you something 

You gave out a sigh of relief that you didn’t do anything wrong but you were still worried for draco 

Y/N: draco you know you can tell me anything, you worried ill get mad, sad or uncomfortable you'll never make me feel that way so please whatever you gt too tell me get it off your chest

Even though you were worried what he had to say to you, what you said was true you'd always be there for draco no matter what especially how he had been here for you today 

Draco took a deep breathe then spoke 

Draco: y/n l/n i've been in love with you ever since i first laid eyes on you and i would like for you to be my girlfriend. But if you don't feel the same i will gladly stand by your side as your friend  

That left you speechless for a moment then pure joy and happiness just flowed through you body that you flung yourself to draco giving him the most bone crushing hug. You then pulled away and gave him a passionate kiss you've always wished for. You pulled away making eye contact with draco giving him the biggest smile you've ever given. Even bigger when he had given you a puffskein for your birthday 

Draco: i'll take that as a yes then

Y/N: 100 times yes i'll be your girlfriend and also i've loved you since that day too draco i really have 

You both just sat on the floor looking at each other happily until draco broke the silence 

Draco: come on let's head to dinner i think it just started and i dont think you've eaten all day 

You couldn’t say anything just out of pure happiness so you nodded, he took your hand lead you out of your room towards the great hall and the whole way there you never let go of his hand and he never made an attempt to stop either. Once you got to the great hall you were about to let go of his hand and head towards the hufflepuff table but before he could he spoke

Draco: Would you wanna come and sit with me?

Even though you've known draco for a year now you've never sat with him feeling you weren’t welcomed by his friend’s so this surprised you 

Y/N: Are you sure? 

Draco: of course i'm sure, now come on let's get you something to eat

He led yo9u towards the slytherin table which caused most people in the great hall to start looking your way and to whisper to each other especially the slytherin’s. Once you sat down draco started to make your plate which you thought was so sweet since he remembered your favourite food. Once he made you plate he gave it to you so you decided to start eating you noticed he wasn’t so you decided to give him some of your food 

Getting some of your favourite food you decided to feed him, and he gladly accepted which made you smile. But the moment was ruined by someone slamming their hand on the table which got yours and draco’s attention 

Pansey: What the hell is she doing here?

She looked at draco then turned to you to speak 

Pansey: And what are you doing feeding my dracy huh? 

You didn't wanna start a fight so you stayed slightly. You were still upset about what she said so you didn't really wanna look at her. Draco seeing that you were getting upset again decided to stand up for you 

Draco: pansey what is wrong with you speaking to her like that 

Pansey: b-but dra-

Draco: no buts pansy your not allowed to treat her like that, especially now that she’s my girlfriend

Hearing this your turned back to look at draco, you thought you'd have to keep the relationship a secret since draco was always a prideful person but guess you were wrong

Pansey: t-thats a lie why would you be with her a not me a pureblood whos in slytherin 

Draco: because pansy she's a sweet,kind, caring person who is considerate for everyone even slytherin’s. And your a cruel and bitter obsessive person who doesn’t understand i will never be with you

At that last sentence pansey started to cry and ran out of the great  hall, everyone in the room was left speechless even you but draco wasn’t done

Draco: THIS GOES FOR EVERYONE DON’T YOU DARE HURT MY GIRLFRIEND OR YOUR NEXT 

After that he sat back down next to you and all you could do was stare at him, after that day you knew he truly loved you 

As the years went on things never got easy especially during the war draco had to be with his parents and you understood that and never got mad at him for it. Even after the war was over people still looked at him as a death eater but you never did and you always told him.

Once the war was over draco found you and asked you to marry him and you said yes. The time apart you spent when he was on the other side broke you and made you realise you couldn't live without him 

Married life was amazing. Instead of moving into malfoy manor draco got a cottage in france where you could live in peace, far from people who may still have malice for draco or death eaters who may want revenge.  Draco's mother was always supportive of the marriage seeing that you did some good for him but his father never approved of you even though you were pure blood he just saw you as a lowly hufflepuff.

But with Draco's constant love and reassurance it never got to you again and you both lived happily.  Draco became a position master and opened a shop in hogsmeade to sell potions to people who are in need and people are always referred to him when they need a potion. As for you you opened a herbologiest and botanist opening a store where you would grow and sell plants. Which worked really well with your husband's store, you were always his go to supplier.

After 8 years of working and marriage you both finally decided to have a child since you were both feeling ready and more than financially stable. 9 months later scorpius malfoy was born he had his father's hair for sure but he had your eyes draco said.

Having scorpius kept you busy meaning you had to hire people for your store which sadden you a little bit since you wouldn't be working as often but you didn't mind if it mean more time with your son. As soon as scorpius was able to walk draco bought him his first broom which you were mad about but you later got over seeing how happy scorpius was.

5 years later you found out you were pregnant again which excited scorpius so much seeing as he always wanted a sibling mainly a little brother but you had to tell him that it might be a sister.

Scorpius: what do you mean he might be a girl, i want a brother not a sister 

Y/N: i know you do sweetie but i can’t control if we have a boy or a girl so you have ot wait a see 

After hearing we couldn't do anything about the gender he sat in his room sulking for a bit until he heard his father come home. Immediately he forgot all about it.

As the month went by, Scorpius was more open to the idea of a sister but he still wanted a brother. But you a draco didn’t mind as long as the baby was healthy

9 months later a baby girl named  Astra Malfoy was born, she also had a malfoy hair which you were not surprised about the gene was just too strong not to come through. As soon as you got the okay to go home you immediately wanted to introduce her to scorpius.

Y/N: Hey, darling do you mind getting scorp so we can introduce him to Astra 

Draco: of course love 

He gave you a kiss on the forehead before heading upstair to grab scorp, you immediately heard little footsteps running from upstair to the stairs then they stopped right in front of you 

Y/N: hey there sweetie ready to meet your baby sister 

Scorpius: It's a girl?

Y/N: yeah she is i hope that's okay

You immediately lowered yourself so that scorpius could see Astra and the moment he say her you knew he didn’t mind at all. 

19 years after the war

Today scorpius  was heading to hogwarts and to say he was excited was an understatement 

Scorpius: come on mom were gonna be late 

He said as he was pulling you hand trying to make you move quicker

Y/N: we can't go through the wall just yet scorp we have to wait for your father, you know he wants to go through with you 

As you both were waiting for Draco and Astra scorps excitement turned into worry 

Scorpius: hey mom, do you think ill make any friends 

As little sad scorpius thought he wouldn’t make any friends, you knelt down to his height to look him in the eyes as you talk

Y/N: of course you’ll make friends scorp, you the most funny, amazing and fun kid to be around who wouldn’t want to be your friend

At hearing you words he started to smile more but his smile grew even wider when he looked behind you 

Draco: what happening here

He said as he put Astra down, even though she was 6 years old she's still a daddy's girl 

Y/N: i was just telling our amazing son here that he doesn’t need to worry about not making friends cause he’s so amazing 

Draco then looked at scorpius and knelt down to his height 

Draco: your mother is right you know any kid would be lucky to be your friend 

Scorpius smiled again then gave draco a big hug

Draco: well be better be going through that wall now before we miss your train son 

And just like that they got ready with the trolly, scorpius looked scared to go through but draco encouraged him and told him they would do it together and just like that they disappears throught the wall.

Astra looked at the wall amazed 

Astra: where did they go mummy 

Y/N: they went to platform and 9 ¾  and we should be going too 

Astra looked worried too but you told her she would be find and that you'd hold her hand as you went through 

Y/N: let's get a running start okay 

Astra: okay 

So you both decided to run through the wall and once through the nostalgia and wonder hit you once again. Seeing the train once again was magical and it made you nearly tear up 

Astra: wow this is amazing mummy, did you get to ride the train too 

Y/N: yes i did and so did your father, but let's go find them so we can say bye to your brother 

As you were trying to find your husband and son you saw so many familiar faces even though you weren't friends with all of them a lot of them remembered you which was heartwarming to think you made such an impact in their life that they’d remember you. 

Walking through the crowds of students and parents saying goodbye you finally found them 

Y/N: getting on the train before saying goodbye to your dear mother 

Scorpius started to laugh at you silliness 

Scorpius: i would never dream of it mum 

He then walled up to you giving you a big bone crushing hug and you returned it with a kiss on the head 

Scorpius: i already said bye to dad and told him i'll miss him. But i'm gonna really miss you too mum 

Y/N: and i'm gonna miss you so much too sweetie we both will, just promise me not to get into too much trouble 

Scorpius gave you a mischievous grin telling you that he probably wasn’t going to keep the promise long 

Scoprius: of course mum i will 

After giving him one last hug and draco giving him one too, Astra decided it was her turn to say bye as well

Astra: im going to miss you 

Scrpous: and ill miss you too 

Astra started to cry which broke your and draco’s hearts, but scorpius being a good brother that he is comforted her 

Scorpius: dont worry Astra i promise to write you every week and ill also be coming back for the holidays so don't cry so much okay 

Wiping her tears away she say’s

Astra: do you promise 

Scorpius: I promise 

After saying goodbye the train's whistle started to sound indicating it was time to get bored, you watched as Scorpius got on the train and found a sit waving to you as the train left. After all the struggles you and draco had you finally had your happily ever after with two beautiful kids 

Draco picked up Astra and held your hand indicating to head home 

Y/N: do you think he’ll be okay 

You say looking at draco

Draco: i think he’ll do heart, he has his mothers kindness and patience as well as his father amazing good looks

At that comment you started to laugh, your daughter was a it confused as to why you were laughing but she smiled at the comment 

Astra: why are you laughing mummy, daddy is very handsome

Y/N: i know sweetie, he is but let's not say it to much or else daddy might get a bigger forehead

Draco gave out a fake offended gasp as if saying you really did hurt his feelings but you knew he was being dramatic 

Draco: hey you chose to say yes when i asked you to marry me 

Y/N: and i'm glad i did 

At that you gave him a kiss on the lips which caused Astra to giggle

Astra: you two love each other very much 

Draco: yes we do my little star we do 

Y/N: and we love you and your brother too

The End

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [6]

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

Words: 17,546 (next chapter is at most 10k i promise lol) 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, canon violence, blood, bruises, mentions of nightmares, ptsd, jason is a little bit of an asshole, mentions of being tortured, mentions of the roof scene, mentions of being kidnapped, yes i did put an utrh reference in here, i eventually fix things with bruce later

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 tried to cut out some scenes from this chapter so I'm sorry lol but everything comes back at some point so it's important. I'm super excited for next chapter lol Also idk if you guys look at my chapter titles but sometimes, 2 chapter titles go together and this is one of those cases and I am so sorry lol It's from the song Destroy Me by PALESKIN if you were curious lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! 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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By the time the next day comes, Jason and you are nearly as happy as you’ve ever been with each other. Finally, after everything that’s happened and after all these months, you have both the confirmation in your feelings. You have each other, wholly and solely. You are each other's and neither of you could possibly be happier. And for the first time, you're both doing your absolute best to ignore the anxiety that comes with that. For each other.

You both try to ignore the fear of one of you dying, or dying for each other. The fear of one of you leaving or giving up or pushing or running. For the first time, you both are finding it in yourselves to ignore those feelings because you are with the person you both trust the absolute most. And you both know, the other person deserves for you to suck up the fear and the anxiety and make a solid effort in not freaking out. Despite everything you’ve both ever known and been taught, you’re choosing each other and choosing to trust each other to always be by your sides. And you both are so happy. It’s practically euphoric.

“Good luck, Jay.” You offer Jason a sweet and gentle smile as you stand outside of Bruce’s car in front of a large house.

He is not thrilled about this. He’s done it before, several times. It’s exhausting seeing a new shrink, again, and having to tell the same damn stories over and over again. He gets the same diagnoses and that's the end of it. It never really helps. He’s left with another person knowing more about him than he would ever really like. It’s exhausting but it’s this or he’s not Robin anymore. Jason doesn’t give up that easily.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs, looking to his shoes and back to you. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be fine and it’ll help.” Your smile grows as you pick his hand up in yours.

“We’ll see.” Jason chuckles softly. “Be here when I’m done?” Jason asks with the raise of his brows, hopeful.

In all honesty, you're masking this a bit more tolerable. You promised you’d always come with to drop him off and pick him up. Bruce doesn’t exactly trust you to drop him off. He thinks maybe you’ll ditch the appointments. So, you promise to come with and if you have to spend an hour with Bruce, you’ll do it for him. And he can then bitch to you all he wants about how the shrink doesn’t know shit and Bruce is ridiculous for making him do it. As long as he goes, you’ll be there. Before and after.

“Of course.” You chime, closing the distance between you and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“Would rather keep doing this.” Jason mutters against your lips as he snakes his hands onto your waist.

“Too bad.” You kiss him again. “Your mental state comes first, Jaybird.”

Jason chuckles against your lips. “Yeah, alright, princess.”

You laugh softly. “Okay, get in there before you’re late.” You pull away and your smile is gentle. “I love you.” You beam, smiling with full teeth and your eyes are brighter than Jason has ever seen before.

“Love you, too.” Jason chuckles as the fluttering of his heart nearly sends him into cardiac arrest.

You watch Jason walk up the driveway and to the front door before he knocks. You watch and wait until a woman greets him and allows him into her home. A part of you thought maybe he’d try to bail out of it. Actually make a solid effort to anyway. You almost expected him to walk up the driveway and then sprint behind the house and take off, leaving you and Bruce to chase after him. But there he is, going into a therapist’s house on his own and you're happy for him. Relieved.

You don’t always think therapy will help but nothing else is helping him and at the end of the day, he needs help even if he wants to insist he’s fine. Everyone else around him knows he’s not. The limp isn’t because he’s still hurt. You know Bruce well enough to know he would have Jason checked out by a doctor to verify he was fine. It’s in his head which makes it all feel the same as if there were something physically wrong with him. He needs help. And he thinks no one notices his hands and the terrified expression after a nightmare. He can’t work through all his problems alone and he never should have had to. And you're proud of him for doing it even if he’s only doing it so he can be Robin. The point is that he’s going.

“What do we do now?” You ask Bruce as you get back into the front seat.

Bruce almost laughs. You and Jason have been beating around the damn bush since you showed up and you're finally doing something about it. Of course, never mentioning what that thing is to him and he finds the whole exchange a little amusing. Bruce has never told anyone, but Jason has always reminded him a little bit of himself. But, Jason is his son and you clearly make him happy.

“We could grab lunch while we wait.” Bruce offers.

“That’s fine.” You offer Bruce a soft smile.

Your issues remain with him. A part of you thinks Jason’s problem is still Bruce. Bruce was a lot of Dick’s issue. Had Bruce gotten Dick into therapy instead of giving him a mask and a cape, maybe Jericho wouldn’t have died because Dick would have been able to handle his problems better. Or, at the very least, maybe Dick could have handled that entire situation better and it wouldn’t have led Jason and you after Dr, Light. Maybe it wouldn’t have led Jason to the roof that day. Dick is an adult who can handle his own problems, but he was just a kid who was never taught how and you think the same is said for Jason.

Jason’s case is a little different. He wasn’t thirteen when Bruce took him in. But, maybe Bruce still could have done better. You do, however, admire the fact he’s trying now and maybe that’s what matters. He’s here now and trying and doing the one thing that might actually help. Forcing him to get help before he’s Robin again. You will never admit that to anyone though. So, you just go along with him for lunch and try your best.

After lunch, Bruce and you head back to pick up Jason. He’s not feeling great after the therapy session. He was never one that liked it very much. He was tossed around between therapists and psychiatrists while he was in the system. It was always repeating the same story over and over again, none of them offering anything that ever really helped. It was always more a state requirement and not because anyone actually gave a shit where his mental health stood. This therapist seems different than the others but like with everyone, Jason isn’t sure he trusts her. He gave her the same spiel about his parents and asked about her because that seemed easier than the same old boring story. But, she at least communicated with him and that part was at least nice.

“So, how did it go?” You ask once you're back at the manor in your room and away from Bruce. “You don’t have to tell me what you talked about or anything. Just asking how it went.” You shrug with ease.

“Fine, I guess.” Jason shrugs his shoulders as he stands near your fireplace. “Still not fucking happy about it.” A chuckle leaves his lips.

“Figured.” You match the chuckle, leaning back onto your hands, the bed soft under your palms. “When do you go again?”

“Next week.” Jason scoffs.

“Well, I’ll be there for you.” You smile softly at him and Jason thinks that’s the only upside. At least you’ll be there before and after.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason lets out a breath. “Okay, well fuck that shit.” He approaches you, his eyes narrowing slightly as a smirk splits his lips. “Get ready. We’ve got a date to have.” He leans down, resting his hands on either side of you.

He’s tired of talking. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s going to do everything in his power to avoid it today. It’s too heavy and he wants today to be perfect. It’s your first date. Officially, as a couple.

“Oh, we’re going soon?” You perk up as your stomach swirls. This is real. It’s happening.

“Hell yeah. Got a whole fucking night planned, babe.” His voice is low and the way he smiles like this, the light hits his canines just right and it looks like he has small fangs. He’s so endearing.

“What are we doing?” You beam with excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’ll see. Go get ready.” Jason urges, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, Jay.” You peck his lips before Jason pulls up and lets you out of his grasp.

You get up and go to get ready. And Jason starts to feel nervous.

Technically, him and Rose never went on an official date. They mostly ran around Gotham, doing busts and then spent more of their time hiding out in someone’s house. There were no official dates. And come to think of it, Jason doesn’t think he’s ever done this before and he’s thinking maybe he went a little overboard with what he has planned. But he knows you better than anyone and he knows what you like. But then he comes back to realizing maybe he doesn’t know what you would like in forms of a date, it might be different than your usual thing. He’s just hoping he doesn’t royally fuck this up like he tends to have a habit of doing.

You meet Jason back in his room. You don't do much with your hair or your makeup, keeping both mostly the same as usual but you wear one of your nicer jackets. And even then, he swears you look beautiful. He smiles softly at you. He’s so in love with you and he really hopes you like the date.

He walks up to you and takes your hand in his. He hopes you don’t notice his hands are cold and clammy. You do but you think it’s cute. Jason nervous is not something that happens very often but the idea of him being nervous for your date, makes your head swim and your bones vibrate. He’s so cute.

The two of you head off on Jason’s bike, arriving at a movie theater in the city. Jason takes you to see a movie you mentioned wanting to see. It’s simple but it’s something he knows you really like movies. And he’s not one for big fancy dates. This is simple and it’s you. You find the gesture adorable because you don’t like the idea of a fancy restaurant either. This is kind of your thing. You’d go with a group sometimes, sure, but it’s your way of showing him how much you care. Showing him your things and movies is one of those things. And you adore him for it.

After the movie, you head back to the manor where Jason has insisted the date isn’t over yet. While he’s not one for something fancy, he is one for making an effort. Words are hard, they always have been and he knows sometimes he’s never going to be able to tell you exactly what you mean to him. But, for your first date, he can make as big of an effort as he can to show it. Even though you don’t need him to. You already know.

“Okay, keep your eyes closed.” Jason states as you both stand in the main living room, his hand intertwined with yours.

“If you walk me into a door, Jason--”

“I won’t!” Jason laughs. “Do you trust me?” He asks and it’s a little sarcastic and cocky.

“Yes.” You mock, keeping your eyes closed but you want to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, so trust me.” Jason states as he leads you through the kitchen and into the courtyard.

He looks around, letting out a breath and he definitely owes Molly and Bruce for this one. Though, he thinks they’ll be giving him enough shit that maybe he won’t have to.

“Okay, you can open.” Jason nearly holds his breath as you open your eyes to see the backyard.

There’s a projection screen in the grass with a projector on one of the outdoor tables. Blankets and pillows cover the grass in front of the screen. The tables are lined with a variety of snacks, all of them being your favorite. And there are fairy lights decorating the rest of the courtyard.

Jason remembers what you said about that scene in Tangled, with the lanterns. Fairy lights aren’t lanterns, but they give somewhat of the same effect. So, he took inspiration from it. Because maybe, Jason’s a little bit of a hopeless romantic underneath the trauma. And he’d do anything for you. Cliche and cheesy and all.

“You--how?” You look over at him, eyes wide and a smile tugging at your lips. A lump forms in your throat as your entire chest nearly combusts into flames.

“I asked Molly and Bruce for help while we saw the movie.” Jason grins at you. “You didn’t really think we were just watching a movie for our first date, did you?” Jason quips, hiding his nervousness under his cocky grin.

“You asked for help?” You ask and you're not sure what’s more surprising. The courtyard or Jason asking for help. “I actually knew we’d go see a movie but this? Wow.” You look around, your voice soft and tender.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs. “Look, you deserve it and you liked that scene in Tangled so. I needed some help while I distracted you.”

You swear it’s perfect because at the end of the night, it’s just him and you. It’s him and you in the courtyard watching your favorite movies. It’s him and you when it matters. He’s thoughtful and caring and kind and loving. Jason has only ever known pain and neglect but when it comes to you, he manages to show love and tenderness. You don’t really understand how he manages it but you're eternally grateful for this boy with dark hair and green eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” You say softly. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You like it?” Jason asks, stuffing his hands into his front pockets, something you've picked up he does when he’s nervous.

“Yes, of course!” You beam. You let go of his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him for a deep kiss. His hands meet your hips as if on instinct, giving a light squeeze.“What’re we watching?” You ask against his lips.

Jason pulls away and there’s a grin of pride and confidence this time. “I’ve got Ready Or Not lined up since we didn’t get a chance to see it before it left theaters and Little Women. I read the book and the trailer seemed good. I think you’ll like it.” Jason states as he squeezes your hips again.

“Do you really remember everything I tell you? And I did want to see Little Women, just didn’t think you’d be into it.” You chuckle softly.

“Yeah,” Jason’s chuckle is gentle this time, bashful even. “It’s important to you.” He rolls his shoulders. “See, I know you.” Jason grins at you, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, you do.” You scrunch your nose before pressing another kiss to his lips and dropping your arms from him. You head over to the snacks. “This is really nice, Jay.” Your smile is gentle and you love him with every fiber of your existence. “Thank you.”

“You deserve it.” Jason holds his head with pride, joining you to grab snacks.

“I get to plan the next date.” You offer him a devious smirk.

“Now, that’s unsettling.” Jason teases. “But fine.”

The two of you grab your snacks and head off to the blankets and pillows that are laid out for you before Jason starts the first movie. The two of you cuddle up with each other, attention mixing between the movie and each other. Your legs are rested over him as his arm is behind you and you just exist together.

To love, wholly and honestly, is terrifying because of the pain that seems to be intertwined with love. To love is to be brave and honest and optimistic. To love is something powerful but, to be loved back, that’s the greatest feeling in the world.

It’s the acceptance and understanding that comes with being loved back. It’s being loved for every broken piece and every bad, ugly, and terrible moment that comes. It’s knowing there will be bad days and hard days where the world seems to want to destroy every happy and peaceful moment, but choosing that person anyway. Falling in love is accidental, but staying in love is done on purpose. And that is why it’s so indescribable and remarkable and powerful. It is choosing to love and be loved back, risking the pain. And at the end, it’s worth it.

For Jason. And for you.

Over the next few days, everyone gets the news you and Jason have finally made things official. Gar and Kory actually kind of figured you were together. It was more of an inside joke with the Titans back in San Francisco. How long it was going to be before the two of you realized you were actually dating. Gar won. Dick wasn’t in on it (mostly because he thought you were friends this whole time who were just too oblivious and stubborn to say anything). So, they’re all happy to see the two of you happy together. Even Conner who didn’t really get a chance to know Jason and who only knew you for a short time.

Molly is your biggest fan though. She’s the best friend of the two of you. Her best friends are dating each other and she knows you’re both stubborn as hell with minimal self-preservation unless it comes to your hearts. You’ve both always been so guarded and she swears up and down, you’re supposed to be together. You’re the most guarded people she’s ever met and yet, the two of you manage to open up to each other. She swears you’re meant for each other. 

Today, Jason goes out with Molly while you hang back at the manor to have a training session with Bruce and a marathon with Gar afterward. The training session is fine but it's definitely not as fun without Jason. So, you're relieved when you can just sit down and have your marathon with Gar, filling him in a little bit on you and Jason. He's really happy for you both and it means a lot to you. He's your best friend.

But, with the marathon underway, it’s interrupted as Bruce walks into the living room.

“Excuse me.” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling your attention away from the show and Gar.

“Is that Bruce Wayne?” Gar beams.

“Yes.” You furrow your brows at the screen before looking back at Bruce. “Oh, did you need the living room? I can move to my room.”

“No, no.” Bruce shakes his head. “You're fine in here. I was wondering if I could speak to you, however.”

“Uh…” You look back to your screen. “We’re…we’re kind of watching something, can we talk later or do you need to talk now?” You don’t know why he didn’t just talk to you earlier.

“I would like to talk now before Jason gets home.” Bruce states.

“Oh…” You widen your eyes before looking at the screen. “Pause it and I’ll call you back when we’re done?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Hey, Bruce.” Gar chimes.

“Hello, Garfield.” Bruce chuckles slightly as he walks further into the living room.

“Okay, I’ll call you soon. Don’t continue without me.” You warn with a fake glare that turns into a cheeky smile before you end the call.

Bruce takes a seat at the armchair beside the couch and you watch him cautiously. It’s weird. You don’t really talk one-on-one and if you were being honest, you prefer it that way. You're growing to like Bruce, slowly. He doesn’t seem so bad. It’s just, every time you have that thought, you can hear Dick in the back of your head warning you. And Jason telling you about Dick taking out one of the trackers he knew about and how he shouldn’t do that because Bruce is looking out for them. And you catch yourself keeping your distance. So, you don’t normally talk like this unless you have to and it’s sending off alarms in your head.

“What’s up?” You ask slowly.

“How are you?”

You raise a brow at him. It’s weird because Bruce definitely doesn’t seem the type to be asking someone how they are. “Uh…fine. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod at him, giving him a soft smile. “Why?” Your eyes narrow with suspicion.

“You have been through a lot. I wanted to make sure you were okay with everything that has happened.”

“Uh…yeah? Still fine, just the usual, I guess.” This is fucking weird. Even for Bruce Wayne. “Why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“We were training. I didn’t want to distract you.” Bruce sucks in a deep breath.

“Um…okay. Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to watch some stuff with Gar.” You nod your head and he said he wants to talk before Jason gets home which means there is something about Jason he wants to talk about. “Bruce, I appreciate you checking up on me but if I’m being honest, I think you know I’m fine or that I will be and I am getting better because I know Dick and Jason filled you in. So, I think you’re asking how I am so you can ask about Jason.”

“I do want to know how you are.” Bruce defends in his usual stoic way that's somehow a little unsettling.

“Yeah, no, I mean I’m sure you care and everything. But, if what you really want to know is about Jason, you can just ask.” You let out a sigh and you can’t understand why these bird boys have to beat around the damn bush so much. “If you wanted to ask about me, it wouldn’t matter if Jason were home.” You nod your head as you scrunch your nose.

Bruce lets out something you think might be a chuckle. “Is he okay?”

You blink at him because you can’t believe he’s asking you that. Surely, he knows. That’s why he’s going to therapy because he’s not. Seriously what is it with the batboys that they can’t just talk?

“You sent him to a shrink?” You question.

“I mean,” Bruce clarifies. “Since going. He hasn’t said much to me. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Truthfully, if Bruce actually wanted to be honest, that isn’t really why he’s asking. He sees a lot of himself in Jason. That is the problem. He doesn’t want Jason running himself into the ground over being Robin. Bruce has done that to himself too many times. He’s been thinking about it and what Jason means to him as a son. He’s worried about him, even with the therapy. Bruce knows you care about him. He hopes that’s enough for you to give him some insight

“Why?” You ask slowly as you narrow your eyes.

“He’s my son and I’m worried about him.” Bruce answers candidly.

“Yeah, no, I mean why are you asking me?” You shake your head, a snip your voice. It’s not your job to communicate for the two of them. They’re adults.

“I thought you might know.” Bruce nods.

“Of course, I know, I know everything about him. But you should know if he’s okay.” You widen your eyes as you furrow your brows. “He’s your son.”

Bruce lets out a sigh of defeat but you keep talking.

You have more to say. It’s not your job to communicate between the two of them but it’s clear someone needs to. You don’t care much for Bruce but Jason does. And that’s important. And he’s not okay. You think seeing Leslie will help him but, maybe telling Bruce isn’t such a bad idea. Jason needs the help and that means telling Bruce.

“Bruce, I think Jason Todd has never been okay a single day in his life.” Your voice is quiet and normally you wouldn’t be saying anything but it’s gotten to the point where you're really worried about him.

You being officially together over the last week has been absolutely incredible. You both are certainly the happiest you’ve both ever been with each other. But, Jason is derailing anyway and you always knew it would happen. Your validation for him is not what he needs. It will never be the thing that he needs because you're not Bruce and you're not Dick and that’s fine. It is never about your validation when it comes to him. His issues lie with the two of them, not you. So, Bruce making him see a therapist, is driving him a little bit insane. It’s only been a week though, so you hold out hope maybe it’ll help in the long run. But, you tell Bruce anyway because he should know. He always should have known.

Bruce nods with understanding. “He has not had an easy life.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a scoff. “I think saying he hasn’t had an easy life is putting it lightly.” There’s a snark and a bite to your voice because you can just hear Dick in the back of your head.

Not to trust him. It doesn't matter that Bruce and Dick sorted out their shit. A part of him doesn’t trust Bruce and every time you think maybe, just maybe, Bruce has changed enough where Dick is wrong, he says something or does something where you know he hasn’t. This is one of those things. He shouldn’t be asking you if Jason is okay or saying he hasn’t had an easy life. It’s his literal job to know if Jason is okay and how to help him. It shouldn’t be up to you to tell him.

Bruce nods. “It’s been rough for him.”

“Ya know, it’s just….I don’t think Jason has ever felt….protected, safe, cared for….or loved in….at least most of his life. He felt, at least, most of that here and as Robin but all of that is gone and Deathstroke changed a lot of that. Bruce, he’s not okay and I am only even telling you this because I’m worried.”

Being happy in a relationship doesn’t make the pain of everything traumatic that’s happened just go away. It doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t suddenly fix and mend and cure mental illness. You wish it did but it doesn’t. Being happy and traumatized can co-exist. He is happy with you and you know that, but in the last week, he’s still waking up screaming from nightmares and he’s still limping after training. He’s still terrified. And you're endlessly worried about him.

“He can’t be Robin again, not yet. I made mistakes with Dick and I don’t want to repeat them with Jason. That’s why I want him to see Leslie.”

It’s not that you agree or disagree with it. But you do want to know why Bruce treats Jason and Dick the same way. They’re wildly different people. Maybe taking Robin from Dick and sending him to therapy would have worked, simple as that. But Jason isn’t Dick. Robin means everything to him. Why can’t he be Robin and see Leslie? Why does he have to be benched entirely instead of half the week even? It’s just not very fair to Jason, in your opinion.

“Okay, I get that, but you know Jason. He’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin.” You shake your head. “He’s going along with it for right now and maybe it’ll help. I hope it does, but what if it doesn’t?” You raise.

“We’ll have to have that conversation if we get there.”

“Okay yeah, and what you want him to just see a shrink for the next year with his fingers crossed he’s not permanently benched from the most important thing in his life? Only for something to happen and you rip it away from him entirely?”

“You believe he should be Robin at this point? You just said yourself he is not okay. It’s not safe for him to be out there. Do you think it would be safe to send him out there if he is deemed not well enough?”

It's not that. It's that you know, firsthand, that Jason will absolutely go out of his way to prove himself. You both do it. Jason isn't going to be able to stay benched for months on end. He's just not going to. And you know that. The fact Bruce doesn't when he knows why Jason wanted to go after Dr. Light, is infuriating. And it scares the hell out of you.

He's going to prove himself if Bruce doesn't give him Robin back eventually. One day, Jason is gonna think he's had enough and he just needs to prove himself and he'll try. The last time that happened, you both were kidnapped, tortured, and dropped from a skyscraper. And that is lucky. Somehow, that was actually lucky because you both made it out alive. What happens if he doesn't get so lucky next time?

“Whatever I think about him being Robin is completely irrelevant. It’s not my place to have an opinion. It is yours but…I’m just saying, he’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin eventually. He’ll get bored and tired of waiting.” You state. “He did in San Francisco.” You shake your head. “He’s gonna get himself killed one day if he does that, to prove you wrong.”

With Robin off the table, the training sessions have gotten…a little nuts. He’s rougher than usual and you can handle it just fine, he's not out of control. But he’s more relentless. He’s training himself into the ground again. He just wants to prove to Bruce that not only is he capable, but he’s better than Dick ever could be. Without even realizing it, Bruce doing this and the way he treated Dick, he’s pitting them against each other. And Jason is set on proving to Bruce he’s fine. No matter the cost.

“He won’t do that. He knows the rules. If I tell him not to go—“

“Dude, seriously? We knew the rules in San Francisco, too and then we went anyway. Jason is your responsibility and you have to do something, I can do everything I can but it’s not gonna be enough.” You stress because even when you have hope that therapy is gonna help over time, you aren’t sure if Jason is actually going to put in the time to let it work. And you're worried what will happen if he quits.

“I can’t let him be Robin and let him get killed out there. You said yourself, he will get killed out there. I made mistakes in the past, I cannot repeat them.”

A part of you want to blow. You were always right about him. He wouldn’t have to worry so damn much if he would stop recruiting kids to be fucking Robin. He wouldn’t have to worry so much if he would stop weaponizing their grief. He turned Jason and Dick into weapons and he’s, somehow, the one paying the consequences of that. You think the whole thing is ridiculous. It’s like he doesn’t see what he’s done to either of them and how fucked up this whole thing is. But, that’s not your place to tell him off about him recruiting people. For Jason’s sake. So, you decide you're gonna fall back on your usual reasoning for having a distaste towards him.

“Okay, you know what, you wouldn’t have to worry so fucking much if you’d just kill those fucks. Like, you know that right?” You snip.

“We do not kill people.” Bruce’s jaw squares just slightly. “We talked about this. Once you kill one person, it gets easier to kill the next until the lines blur. We cannot be the ones deciding who lives and who dies.”

You let out a scoff followed by a hollowed laugh. “And at what point is that not good enough?” You grit your teeth. “How many times have you captured the Joker?”

Bruce knows the number but he won’t say. “Several. I always catch him.”

“And every time Joker escapes, he kills at least one person. So, if over the last 10 years, you got more than 10 people killed by letting the Joker roam around and one of those people were my mom.” A lump forms in your throat with the mention of your mom. It’s some sick joke him and the Joker like to play almost. It’s like a damn game of chicken in the worst fucking way. “You let the Joker kill my mom. I’m not talking about Penguin or Scarecrow, I’m talking about killing the Joker. He puts bombs in buildings for fun. He’s killed thousands of people since I’ve been alive. You could have saved those innocent people if you would have just killed the Joker.” You shake your head. “And he’s the main one you’re worried about, right? He just escaped Arkham again, right?”

You shake your head and this whole thing is insane. It’s not even that you expect Bruce to toss his morals out the window. But you think it’s something he should consider if he's so damn worried about it. Deathstroke was different. He was the best mercenary in the world. You and Jason never stood a chance but the fuckeads here? Bruce’s usuals, they aren’t much concern besides one. And you know it. That’s why you’re having this talk right now.

“It’s the Joker. We literally laughed in Penguin’s face. Mr. Freeze, Bane, Scarecrow, and Mad Hatter are all locked up. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy aren’t even a concern. The Riddler doesn’t kill people. I know you are not worried about fucking Condiment Man or Kite Man. I can keep going. But it always comes back to the Joker being the main concern, if Jason fucks up out there with him, that's it. Right?”

Bruce gains a scowl. He doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. You aren’t right but you aren’t wrong either. “It is not just about the Joker. And I cannot cross that line.” Bruce states firmly. “You should know that. You cannot cross that line either. The Joker is still a person and I will not determine if he gets to live or die. That is not how this works.”

“And what are you gonna do when he kills Jason? Or Dick? Or the next Robin? It’s gonna happen, it will. He’ll kill one of them eventually and then it’ll be too late.”

“I will not kill him for a what if situation.” Bruce lets out a sigh and this is not where he thought this conversation was going to go. A part of him thinks there’s a chance you're doing this on purpose to avoid telling him more about Jason. You're good at deflecting and not just when it’s about yourself. “That is not justice.”

“Then the guilt will eat you alive when it happens and then I’ll find a way, myself, to kill whoever kills him. Joker’s death is inevitable regardless and you could prevent the death of your sons.” You shake your head and get up from your spot, grabbing the tablet from the table. “I respect what you try to do as Batman and taking in Dick and Jason. I think that’s admirable. But, I think everyone has morals and sometimes you have to toss your morals aside for the greater good.”

“Even if that means someone has to die?”

“The Joker is a homicidal psychopathic sadist…so yeah. I don’t narc, I don’t tell anyone what happens with me and Jason, ever. But I’m telling you that he is not okay. Putting my morals aside because I care about him. I know you do, too, but you need to figure out how to get that through his thick skull or let him be Robin. It’s that simple. Always has been. Always will be.” You end the conversation, heading back to your room because that conversation was going nowhere and it never will.

You feel your blood boil and there is just something about Bruce sometimes. You don’t see it. You don’t see why Jason looks up to him so much. Maybe it’s just because Bruce saved him. Maybe some part of Jason is so hung up on that that he can’t see through Bruce’s other bullshit. But it irks you anyway, even when Bruce is genuinely trying to be better with him.

You just find the whole thing real rich. If he didn’t want to watch his kids die, he shouldn’t have offered them the vigilante lifestyle from the beginning. Maybe they both would have ended up here anyway. They both like to help people and that can’t be just a Bruce thing. But, maybe it would have been safer.

Maybe had Bruce offered therapy from the start, it would have been better or if he could just have a damn conversation with them. Literally, anything could work besides what he’s doing now. Training them to be brainwashed, taking them out to the cabin, training their bodies into a world of pain. Manipulating them with the idea of being invincible because of a mask and a cape. Anything has to be better than that.

And you feel like you can’t even tell Jason about it because he’ll get mad and annoyed further with Bruce. He’ll be annoyed he went to you to talk. And you know him, you just know he’ll think it’s because Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough and you can’t let him think that about himself. And it is not your place to complain about his adoptive father. So, you keep it to yourself as you grind your teeth and call Gar back.

You pretend everything is fine as you and Gar continue your marathon until Jason gets home a few hours later.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jason chimes as he stands in the doorway of your room.

You look over with burning cheeks. He looks happy right now. So, you smile back, pretend like you aren’t still annoyed with Bruce. The call with Gar helped but then he had to go and the annoyance flooded you once more.

“Jaybird.” You say with ease as Jason walks into your room, tossing his jacket onto the end of your bed.

“How’s Gar?” He presses a kiss to your forehead before sitting down beside you.

“Good.” You answer simply as you suck in a breath. “He, uh, he misses us and Rachel but he said he’s good. He really likes being a Titan, you know Gar.” You laugh softly.

“He could come visit.” Jason chuckles softly.

He misses him, too. They lived down the hall from each other for four months and went through some crazy shit together. They’re best friends. Jason thinks it’d be cool to have Gar come. He could show him the Batcave.

“That’s what I said.” You widen your eyes. “He said he’d ask Dick about it.”

“Cool.” Jason laughs softly.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath as you look back to the tablet.

Jason watches you carefully and he knows you. Something’s off. You usually have more to say. You usually ask about Molly or whatever Jason is up to when he comes back home. You didn’t this time and you look like you're not really here with him. Your eyes are distant. The corners don’t crinkle when you laugh. Your jaw is clenching and you didn’t even mention what you and Gar watched.

“You going out tonight?” He asks and his words are a little flat.

He doesn’t mean for them to be. But, it’s sore. You still go out with Bruce. You asked him what you should do because you didn’t want to overstep. Going out on patrol with Bruce is Jason’s thing. But, you don’t really want to give it up either. You love patrolling and the more you do it, the more you understand why Robin has become Jason’s entire world. But, if Jason asked you not to go with Bruce, you wouldn’t. You’d go on your own if you had to. But, Jason assured you it was fine even if it hurts, even if he wants to tell you to not to do it. Even if feels like you're overstepping.

You shake your head and furrow your brows, bringing your attention back to him. “No, I just wanna stay here with you tonight.” You scrunch your nose, trying not to set off Jason’s alarm bells.

You don’t want to be around Bruce. The only thing you want to do is be with Jason tonight. You love patrolling but not tonight. Not tonight when you're reminded of the cruelty you face every day and the life-or-death stakes that exist outside of this manor. Outside of this safe bubble. The conversation, knowing the Joker is out there and likely who Bruce will be trailing tonight, reminds you of what could happen out there. You know. You already know but sometimes conversations take place and it becomes real. Patrolling and fighting, that’s fun and it’s easy to forget the stakes. And while you're terrified of Jason dying, he’s not the one going out there right now. You are. What would he do if you didn’t come home?

You just want to stay here with him tonight. It’s too heavy tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, searching your face for any indicators.

“Nothing.” You lie. “Can’t want to stay in for a night with my boyfriend?” You say it like that on purpose but Jason sees through it.

You aren’t as insistent on patrol as he is. But you haven’t missed a single night since you got the suit. You're turning it down and he doesn’t get why. There’s something wrong and he knows it. He always knows.

“I know your fucking obsessed with me,” Jason starts with a chuckle, earning himself an eye roll. “But, I know when something’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing, Jay.” You sigh. “I just want to stay in.”

“What happened?” Jason pushes, gritting his teeth because now he’s thinking someone did something. To you.

He thinks of the conversation with Molly, how she thinks you'll run. She told him she's worried that you're gonna be the one to fuck it up, not him. And that if you do, Jason should just not let you, even if he wants to push. It's what you both do, push and run. Molly is right. It’s what you do but if you both don't want to hurt each other, you both need to find a way not to do that. So, he tries.

“Can you drop it, please? I’m fine.” You rest a hand on his cheek, offering a tender smile. “Thank you.”

“Worried about you.” Jason states.

“How the tables have turned.” You widen your eyes, dropping your hand.

“I’m fucking serious.” Jason doesn’t so much as grin at you.

He can’t lose you. He is so certain of that. He can’t lose you in any capacity. So, he pushes just as you do with him. There’s something wrong and if someone did something, to scare you out of going on patrol, he doesn’t care what Bruce says. He’ll go back out there.

“I….Bruce he talked to me about something and I just…” You grit your teeth. “I don’t want to go out tonight.” You shrug your shoulders, voice laced in annoyance.

“What did he do?” There’s a mix of anger and confusion in his voice. Jason trusts Bruce but he knows as much as you fake it, he knows you don’t.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “Just, uh…Joker was brought up and you know. Shit sucks. So I just don’t want to go out tonight.” You bite your tongue with every worry you have because you can’t burden him with it.

You can't put worried thoughts into his head. He has enough going on. And you know that he does worry, in his own way, when you're out there. He's more subtle than you are and he's not nearly as paranoid but he loves you and wants you to be safe. It's a natural thing. You don't want to add to that burden by saying you're worried about what he'd do if you died. On top of the rest of the conversation with Bruce, it's just too much and you don't want him to deal with it. Not right now.

“Your mom?” Jason asks.

“Yeah.”

“You know you can tell me, right?” Jason questions, getting the feeling it’s more than that. When it involves your mom, you're sad and you tell him. You seem annoyed today.

“I know.” You offer a weak smile. Guilt feeling heavy in your chest. “It’s just….it’s heavy today and I’m tired of it being heavy. I’m fine though, Jaybird. Can you just…..read to me when Bruce leaves, please?”

Jason nods softly, moving closer to you. “Yeah, of course. Did you want to talk about it?” He asks before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile softly. “No, I’m okay.”

“You and me.” Jason smiles softly and he’s worried about you, too.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s just one of those days, ya know? Where it just…”

“Feels worse again.” Jason finishes.

“Yeah.” You pick your head up.

He wants to help and Bruce doesn’t leave for a few more hours. So, his solution is training. It always helps you, too anyway. He just doesn’t want you to feel the heaviness of it and if he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone, neither do you. It’s like he told you, you can put it on him. He’ll carry it for you.

“I get it.” Jason stands up abruptly. “Wanna train about it?” Jason wiggles his brows, offering you his hand.

You roll your eyes but there’s a smile tugging on your lips. He always gets it. “Yeah, I almost won yesterday.” You put your hand in his, getting to your feet.

“Maybe I let you win one round, think of that?” Jason teases.

“You wouldn’t let me win anything.” You scrunch your nose. “You’re too competitive.” You beam at him as Jason lets out a laugh and swings his arm over your shoulders.

“Guess that’s true.” He says as the two of you make your way to train.

You know you’ll tell him your concerns later and tell him about Bruce because while it might not be fair to tell him, it’s also not fair for you to hide it. He trusts you and he’s doing better about telling you everything that bothers him. You owe him the same. But right now, it's just too heavy to deal with and you just want to sit with him and forget about everything for a while.

Jason is really good about helping you forget and letting you relax so it’s easier to tell him. It's one of the many reasons you adore him and wholeheartedly love him more than anything on this planet.

After a few rounds of sparring, you having lost because Jason really can’t let you win, you move to the targets. When Jason runs out on his end, he takes a break, sitting a few feet behind you and to the right, having a drink of Gatorade.

He watches you when you train. There’s something enthralling about it. You throw the knives at the target with so little effort, Jason can’t help but stare. He remembers how bad you were at combat all those months ago. He never told you, but you were not good. It was obvious you never wanted to throw a punch, like you never hit someone before and you hadn’t. Maybe a part of him thought you might be hopeless. Even when you fought Jerry, Jason is pretty sure you only got as far as you did because he was surprised and you had a hit of adrenaline hit your system from the anger. You never stood a chance otherwise. But now, you make Jason actually put up a fight in training.

He puts in effort to make sure you don’t pin him now. You never miss a target. You're even getting over your fear of heights with having to grapple from building to building and with being on so many rooftops. You're so good at all of this now and his entire chest warms because he knows a part of that is because of him. But the other part, wants to completely shatter.

On the one hand, you never wanted to be violent. You told him that, more than once. You never wanted to be this way and now you are. It’s not his fault. He didn’t make you that way. That was Jerry, that was the Joker. But he looks at what you've become and he feels guilty anyway because he doesn’t stop you from being violent. He encourages it. And he thinks of how he was before Robin.

It wasn’t that Jason was violent. That was never it. He could pick a fight just as good as the next person. But it was out of survival. It wasn’t because he liked the bloody and bruised knuckles. Or coming back with his body covered in shades of navy and maroon and the pain that went along with it. It was how he had to survive. Fight or die. Fight or let people take advantage of him.

He was small. He got lucky he grew taller as he got older but he was a small kid. It was either learn to fight and take what he could or get taken advantage of or die trying. It was learn to fight and hold his own or deal with whatever his dad would dish out or the new guy his mom brought home that didn’t really like kids. It was never that he wanted to be violent.

He was just angry with the world. Robin gives him the outlet. Robin lets him be violent in a way that’s productive. Robin lets him choose violence. Robin lets him pick fights that matter. Robin lets him let the anger and the violent side of him be a good thing instead of something that hinders him and something people find to be annoying and a nuisance. Robin has given him so fucking much including that outlet and he can’t lose it. And he just gets so fucking mad when he thinks about it. He’s mad about it being taken away and mad at Bruce and a little mad at you for getting to use his outlet as your own, even when he knows that’s not fair.

It’s the anger that always got the best of him. Not the violence.

“Where’s your head, Jay?” You ask, looking over your shoulder from the targets as Jason sits on the floor behind you.

Jason snaps away from his thoughts, looking over to you. “What?” He furrows his brows up at you.

“You’re quiet and you’re never quiet unless something is bothering you.”

It’s only been two weeks but you know him better than anyone. It’s been rough for him not having Robin. He wasn’t Robin, technically, in San Francisco. He wasn’t supposed to be anyway. He was supposed to be taking a break but that didn’t seem to bother him as much as it does now. You’re not entirely sure what the difference is this time but whatever it is, you’ve got this feeling that there’s something more going on. Something’s poking at his head.

Jason shakes his head. “Want to get back out there.” Jason scoffs.

You nod. “Yeah…” You suck in a breath, looking at your target full of knives before you move to sit in front of him. You match his position, stretching your legs out right beside his with your hands on the floor behind you to hold your weight. “You sure it doesn’t bug you I go out?” You ask.

Of course, it bothers him. That’s his thing. But, it’s yours, too. Maybe it wouldn’t sting as much if you weren’t going out with Bruce. But, there’s nothing he can do about it and it would be wrong for him to even try. So, he bites his tongue about it.

“It’s fine, it’s your thing, too.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, but if it bothers you, I can wait until you get Robin back or I can just go out on my own.” You offer.

The first night Jason was benched, Bruce asked if you’d still join I’m for patrol. Jason assured you it was fine. So, you went and you talked later about it. He swore up and down it would be fine. You like to go out on patrol. You like to help people and who is he to try and take that away from you? You’d never do that to him.

“You think Bruce will be okay with that? You going out on your own?” Jason quips.

You grin before you let out a laugh. “Well, probably not anymore.”

Jason furrows his brows, his eyes scanning over your face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You bounce around how to tell him about your conversation with Bruce earlier without including the stuff about him. It’s hard because on the one hand, you respect Bruce but on the other, he can be a little insufferable. And Jason looks up to him for reasons you don’t really think you’ll entirely understand. It’s not your place to speak poorly of him to Jason. So, you tell him but you hope he doesn’t ask what sparked the conversation in the first place.

“We, uh, we had a moral disagreement today.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you raise your brows.

“Ah,” Jason nods his head. “That why you don’t wanna go out tonight?” The moral disagreement doesn’t surprise him. He knows how you feel about all of it but he is a little surprised you even brought up to Bruce.

“Amongst a few other things but yeah. I think he might think I’ll kill people now.” You roll your eyes.

Jason lets out a snort. “What the hell did you even say to make him think that?” Jason shakes his head. “Wait, let me guess.”

“I’m listening.” You gesture a hand for him to continue.

Jason clears his throat. “You should kill the Joker. He’s a piece of shit maniac clown who kills people for fun. He should be dead.” Jason grins at you. “Sound about right?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan through a laugh as you tilt your head back. “No.” You shake your head at him. “I said he was a homicidal, psychotic, sadist.” You state. “And that he should die, yes.” You mutter softly while Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He is certain you’ll never let it go which he doesn’t blame you for. He gets it. He doesn’t like his dad but a part of him still wanted to go after Two-Face. Dick went after Zucco. Parents are killed and their kids want to take revenge. But, he also knows you and he doesn’t think you’d ever actually try to kill anyone, but especially the Joker. You have more self-preservation than that.

“And he said something about we don’t cross that line or whatever?”

“Yep.” Your eyes widen as you nod your head. “Him and Dick think it’s ridiculous as if Dick didn’t feel that same way, ya know? But it’s the Joker. So, uh, I might have said his death is inevitable.” You scrunch your nose and maybe that was the wrong choice of words.

Jason eyes you carefully and there is something going on with you, too. It’s one thing to have the moral disagreement with Bruce but to actually say anyone’s death in inevitable seems a little off. Jason’s so wrapped in his own anger, he’s started to wonder if he’s missing anything with you.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Jason nudges your leg with his.

“Nothing. I don’t think I really meant it or anything but I kind of wonder if Bruce thinks I’m serious and thinks I’m like a ticking time bomb or something.” You roll your eyes.

“Did he take the shit from you? The suit or anything?” Jason questions and he is getting increasingly more curious what even started that whole conversation and got you mad enough to say anything to Bruce.

“No. Why?”

“Then he doesn’t think you’re gonna out and kill people.” Jason chuckles. “He’d take it away and send you to Leslie if he thought you were serious.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” You chuckle softly. “Still don’t wanna go out tonight though.” You shake your head.

Jason pulls his legs to his chest, resting his forearms over his knees. “What started the whole conversation anyway? Did something happen?”

You pause and you hate lying to him. It’s the one thing you really don’t do with him. But, telling him why Bruce even talked to you, that just doesn’t seem fair. You worry he might take Bruce’s concern the wrong way. Maybe it’ll send him spiraling even further. Maybe it’s best if you just keep that to yourself.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really.” You assure him before you suck in a breath. “Seriously though, if you have a problem with me going out, you can tell me.”

The switch back the topic at hand does not go unnoticed and that’s also uncharacteristic of you lately. You tell him everything that bothers you and what leads to it bothering you.

“I said it’s fine.” Jason states. “If something’s going on with you, you’d tell me, right?” Jason questions.

You nod your head. “Of course. Nothing’s, uh, nothing’s going on. You need to stop worrying.” You offer him a cheeky grin and he knows you’re lying. “Look, Jay, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t stand a chance out there. I know it’s hard being benched and I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

“You said yourself, you like going out there.” Jason bites his tongue.

“Yeah, but if it weren’t for you, I’d never stand a chance. I know it’s hard for you to be benched and I go out. I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

He knows you’re lying but he can’t figure out why you would lie to him about something like that. It doesn’t seem important or serious enough to need a lie. Maybe a part of him is even hurt you won’t tell him. But, he knows it’s not fair to push because you don’t push him when he’s adamant about not tellin you. He hopes you’ll tell him later when it’s not so fresh.

Jason scoots closer to you, resting a hand on your thigh. “I’m fine, alright? Go out kick and some ass, with or without Bruce.” Jason grins at you. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I’ll always worry, I love you.” You smile wildly at him.

“Yeah, I love you, too.” Jason chuckles softly. “I'm fine, I’ll be back out there in no time.”

“Good, miss you out there with me.”

“I got you, babe.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips. “Spar again, then dinner?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The next day, Jason and you head off the coffee shop to meet up with Molly. It’s colder than it has been. The air is crisp as you walk inside, hands in your jackets. It seems to fit the mood. Your hearts are heavy in your chests, matching your sleep-deprived eyes. Last night was bad.

And Molly is sat at your usual table with a smile.

You think this is good. Maybe hanging out with Molly, the three of you will be a good distraction for him. It’s been only been two weeks, but you know he’s already going stir-crazy. The more you think about it, you're surprised it took him three months in San Francisco to finally break the rules and go out.

“Hey.” You chime.

“Sorry, we’re late, Molly.” Jason takes his jacket off, throwing it over the back of his chair before he sits beside you.

“It’s cool, I ordered for you guys.” Molly states with ease, barely looking up from her laptop. When she does, she has a look at the two of you, Jason specifically. She glances to you before going back to Jason.

He looks more tired than usual lately. But today, he looks exhausted. The bags under his eyes are thick and his grin seems lazier than usual. And she knows you've been more tired lately, too. When you hang out, you nod off and completely space out mid-conversation. You look extra tired today as you lean your head on Jason’s shoulder.

“You look…tired. Are you sleeping?” Molly keeps her eyes on Jason.

You glance to Jason with a heavy heart, last night was rough. He woke up screaming at the top of his lungs. He got you in the face with his elbow. He sputtered apology after apology, nearly throwing himself into a guilt-ridden panic attack over it. It was fine, it was an accident. He was having a nightmare.

You eventually got him to calm down and fall back asleep but that only lasted about two hours before he woke up screaming again. This went on all night. It was bad. No, he’s not sleeping.

“Don’t worry so much.” Jason brushes it off with a smile.

It’s one thing for you to know but he doesn’t want Molly to know even if it’s written on his face that he isn’t sleeping. He still feels guilty and tired and annoyed and angry and frustrated. He swears taking Robin away has made the nightmare worse. Everything feels worse.

“We just had a late movie night.” You state.

“And what about you? You look tired, too.”

“I’m sleeping fine. Jason’s right, don’t worry so much.” You lift your head from Jason’s shoulder.

“What’re you working on?” Jason changes the subject as you lean forward, fully engaging with the topic change.

Molly let’s it rest. It seems weird but it’s the two to you. It’s always a little weird. Your sleep schedules are a mess anyway.

Molly turns the laptop around so Jason and you can see. The screen has a large picture, a missing person's flyer. The sidebar contains others with other missing kids.

“Diego from the shelter went missing.” Molly states, her voice annoyed “Rumor is, The Joker’s got a dude on the streets taking in strays. Diego’s poor and brown so you know the cops don’t give a shit.” Molly shakes her head with a scoff, taking the laptop back.

You feel your blood boiling. That’s the shit you want to do. You want to target those terrible people who are bringing in kids. Kids are innocent. The three of you at this very table were once innocent and you should have been able to stay that way. It was ripped from you and you never want another kid to deal with any of that. That dickhead, has got to fucking go. And who the hell works with the Joker anyway?

“Batman will take care of him.” Jason states, crossing his arms on the table as he leans forward slightly.

You snap your attention at him, narrowing your eyes. “Right.” You nod your head, getting a confused look from Jason.

“Batman protects rich people.” Molly closes the laptop, resting it on the seat beside her. “Be careful, Jason, living in that fake house got you slipping.” Molly crosses her arms. “Should’ve stayed in San Francisco.” There’s a slight bite to Molly’s words.

“Fuck Sam Fransciso.” Jason states. “That whole thing was a mistake. Gotham’s where I need to be.”

“You’ve been different since you’ve been back.” Molly leans forward, she glances to you who raise a brow in confusion

Jason leans back in his seat, brows knitting together. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. Like something happened over it here.” Molly looks to you.

“Nothing happened.” Jason brushes it off coolly. “I was bored, so I left.” You think that’s one way to put it.

“It was boring as shit there. It was nice, but it’s not Gotham.” You back Jason up. This whole thing would be easier if Molly knew the truth. You want to know how everyone can keep up with all the lies.

“Okay.” Molly lets out a breath, not believing either of you. Something definitely happened over there. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it—“

Jason leans forward, not wanting to deal with the integration. “Where’s this guy who’s picking up the street kids?” There’s a grin that tugs on his lips and you know he’s about to go track the guy down. And you for one, are completely on board.

Molly looks to you who now also looks extremely engaged. She has a bad feeling but she does know. “I heard he’s hanging near a shelter on Dunsmuir.”

“Show us.” Jason states.

He’s not Robin but he still has the same abilities without the suit. He is itching to be out there doing something and Molly has a point. Bruce does look out for the rich. Kids like Diego can get left behind. This is a chance for him to do something. To prove to himself he can do it, even without the Robin suit. He can deal with a lowlife picking up street kids. He could do it in his sleep.

“Yeah, take us.” You match the grin Jason has and Molly finds the whole thing a bit unsettling.

Molly lets out a scoff as she deadpans. “Right. Cause you’re cops now.”

“I’m serious.” Jason urges. “Let’s just go see if he’s there.” Jason's grin is wild and dangerous as he looks to you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You jump in. “It won’t be so bad or anything. Especially if he’s recruiting kids.”

You're worried about Jason but you’ll be together. He’s one lowlife working for the Joker. That’s easy. Jason can just threaten him, get a picture, call it good. Neither of you can sit by and let him do this. Plus, you think Jason might need the pick-me-up.

“And then what?” Molly can’t believe the two of you. You are both completely insane.

“Take some photos. Show them to the cops. It’s worth trying.” Jason states and he’s so convincing.

“It’s better than sitting here talking about it.” You offer. “It’ll be quick anyway.”

Molly glances between the two of you and she can’t help but find some part of this amusing, you share a similar grin. Ones that got her into trouble, ones she knows means you’re both up to no good. Ones she knows she’ll regret listening to. And she knows it’s such a bad idea. You aren’t cops. You have no business finding this guy. But, she knows Diego stands no chance if you don’t at least try.

“Fine.” Molly agrees reluctantly.

You and Jason share a triumphant grin between the two of you. Jason swears this won’t be like Deathstroke. He’ll be on better alert in case there is a team this time and he knows you will, too. You’re going to find a lowlife, not a supervillain. And besides, with Molly there, him and you won’t do anything too reckless to make sure she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. This will be fine.

The three of you make the walk toward the shelter. Small flurries fall from the sky on your walk. You look around at the snow with a soft smile. You haven’t seen snow in a year and maybe a small part of you missed it. Maybe it feels like home in a weird way.

“How’s Sheila?” You ask, walking between the two of them, your right hand tangled with Jason’s.

“Yeah, no.” Molly scoffs. “She was the wrong one. Might even date boys again.” Molly states.

You let out a laugh. “Seriously that bad? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You're going through some shit.” Molly shrugs. You and Jason have asked about her and Sheila but Molly is the observant friend. The two of you always seem like you have real shit going on. She didn’t want to bother either of you with her relationship problems when, for once, you and Jason seem happy in one. “Broke up yesterday, you didn’t miss much besides screaming and her throwing things.”

“That’s also a lovely breakup.” You give a large nod with the roll of your eyes. You never cared much for Sheila. Sheila was the jealous type.

“Yeah.” Molly scoffs. “It’s cool though.” Molly shrugs.

“Yeah, you deserve someone better anyway. Didn’t she lose her shit on you for being home like five minutes late?” Jason asks, glancing over to her.

“That should have been one of my red flags.” Molly lets out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree.

The three of you reach an alley where you see an older man sitting on the hood of his car with a girl standing in front of him who looks way too young to be around him. She has a bottle in a brown paper bag and he looks like he’s a little too friendly with her. You can’t help the way your hand squeezes Jason's as you feel the anger start to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Jason glances to you, squeezing back.

“Over there.” Molly states. “Gotta be him.”

Jason lets go of your hand and pulls out his phone, taking a picture and using the software on his phone to do a check on him. The software runs facial recognition through the system, pulling up his extensive rap sheet. You peek over at the screen, making out a few of the charges and this is the shit that pisses you off.

Why do they keep letting him out? He is very clearly a danger to the public and yet he gets to roam around free, hurting more kids. Now, he gets to work with the damn Joker of all people. He’s got to go.

“Got him?” Molly asks.

“Hold on.” Jason says as it finishes loading. “Name’s Pete Hawkins. Piece of shit’s been in and out of Blackgate. Hooked up with the Joker last year.” Jason explains.

“Another piece of shit they refuse to keep locked up because they don’t actually give a fuck about the general public.” You let out a bitter scoff, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“How do you know that?” Molly asks, looking between the two of you.

“Told you. I’m still me.” Jason smiles cheekily at her.

“Right. That’s one of those things that sounds real cool, but doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“Means he’s got it covered and he’s good at it.” You smile softly with the shrug of your shoulders.

Jason nudges you with his shoulder. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.” Jason suggests and you knew this was gonna happen. “Just a conversation. That’s all, come on.” Jason takes a step forward as Molly looks to you for help.

“It’ll be fine,” You step forward with Jason. “We’re just gonna talk and that’ll be it. Don’t worry.” You offer a soft smile and you’ve been here before.

You're confident, similar to Jason, this won’t be Deathstroke. This isn’t Dr. Light. This is just some guy. This is your home. This is your city. It won’t be like last time. You swear it won’t be and it can’t be because you have Molly with you. You swear it but you feel the fear creep into your stomach anyway.

The three of you make your way down the alley until you reach this guy. The closer you get, you can hear some of the conversation. He gave her alcohol. And he compliments her smile and tells her he can introduce her to someone that can make her smile. You nearly gag. He doesn’t deserve to be here.

“It never works out like that.” Jason states as the three of you stand in front of them.

“Yeah, it’s all sweet talk until you’re in too deep then it’s anything but sweet.” You add in, your hands warm in your pockets.

There’s a silence that consumes all of you for a few seconds. The man eyes the three of you, not quite confused but annoyed. The girl though, she looks uneasy. She looked uneasy before you approached anyway. And this guy is just gonna let her feel that way. He was going to use it against her.

“Give us a second.” Pete states to the girl. “Keep the drink.” The girl nods her head and walks away, glancing back at all of you on her way down the alley. “We have a problem?” He asks.

“A little young for you isn’t she, hoss?” Jason questions.

Jason also can't stand people like this guy. He was a kid once. He remembers it all. No one was there to protect him and he can protect himself but what about the other kids? That's supposed to be the point of Batman and Robin. To protect those who can't protect themselves. He doesn't need the suit to threaten this guy and try to find out where, at least, Diego is.

“She’s old enough to make her own choices,” He states back.

“Yeah? And exactly how old is old enough then?” You quip back. “Cause, uh, she didn’t look old enough.”

“Do I know you?” He questions, the annoyance soaking his words.

“I’m fuck,” Jason starts. “She's off.” Jason gestures to you. “We hate clowns.”

“Clowns?” Pete asks but there’s a seriousness in his voice.

“You know the type.” You state.

Molly watches the two of you and she’s getting the idea you’ve done this before. That seems a little weird and somehow not even close to surprising. But, she can’t figure out why you would do this? In your free time. Do you and Jason just go around Gotham interrogating people?

“Maybe you ran across a kid?” Jason asks. “Diego.”

“Martinez.” Molly finishes.

Pete shifts just slightly and Jason takes that opportunity to close the distance between them, getting in his face. You watch the two of them carefully, waiting for any quick movements, waiting for the throbbing to start, so you move to stand in front of Molly. You knew it was never going to be just talking and that’s fine with you. That girl was lucky you showed up and he should know he can’t get away with what he’s doing and what he wants to do.

“You know him?” Jason asks.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” Pete says but there’s almost a mocking tone in his voice. Jason stares him down and it goes eerily silent for a few seconds. Pete doesn’t like the look and you're getting the feeling this is going to go south.“You haven’t done enough time to look at me like that.”

“You have no idea who I am.” Jason's voice is low and unwavering, despite the fear pushing at his chest and vibrating his blood like a relentless and agonizing earthquake.

Molly gets the idea this going to turn violent. He’s done time and she knows Jason can fight but maybe not him. So, she moves past you and walks forward, touching Jason’s arm to grab his attention.

“Jason, let’s get out of here.” Molly says as Jason looks at her and as soon he does, a gun cocks.

It’s fast, happening in just a second. The gun is cocked as Jason looks back to Pete who puts the gun right under his chin. He was just waiting for his opportunity. You swear under your breath because for some reason, you thought he’d be fine. He knows better.

“Where’s your swag, cowboy?” Pete asks as you quickly move to Molly, yanking her back and behind you.

Jason freezes, flashes of Deathstroke cross his eyes. The beatings, the pain in his leg is agonizing. It throbs and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear it were bleeding right here, right now. He falls again and again and again. Everything that happened flashes his eyes and he can’t breathe and he can’t move. Why can’t he move? He has no time to react before Pete smacks him across the face with the gun, sending Jason to the ground.

“Jason!” Molly screams, trying to push you to the side.

“You shut your mouth, bitch!” Pete threatens as he aims the gun at her, you keep her blocked, locking eyes with Pete with your mouth in a hard line.

Jason tries to get up but Pete kicks him in the face. Jason starts coughing up blood onto the ground. He’s weak. Why is he weak? He’s fought men three times the size with ease. But Pete kicks him and kicks him and kicks him over and over. In the stomach and the side, over and over again. Jason tries to back away but he’s on the ground and useless.

He was never like this. He was never afraid of everything. It never caused him harm before. If anything, fear managed to protect him. It has always kept him on high alert. It made sure he could be physically and emotionally safe from anyone that would hurt him. But, now, all it's doing is getting him beaten up. It's traumatizing reliving the same damn fear every single day. He's so damn tired of it. He's so sick of being weak. And scared.

Jason rolls on his side where Pete kicks him again and you've had enough. You tried to give Jason a little bit of time to get it together, hoping he'd be able to. But, you can't stand by and hope anymore. You push Molly to the side and move towards Pete.

“Hey, dickhead!” You get his attention, taking a solid swing to his face and then another. “You wanna fucking fight, let’s fucking go.” You have a wild look in your eyes as he points the gun at you, Molly rushing to check on Jason. “Aw, cute! You think I’m scared?” You taunt him, the throbbing in your head intensifies and you move out of the way just as he fires the gun. “Missed me, fuckface.”

You swore you'd never be unprepared again and you pull out a knife from your belt hidden under your coat. In a swift motion, you nail him in the leg. He yells out and shoots again, you already out of the way by the time he fires.

Jason hears the gunshots through the ringing of his ears and he'll never forgive himself if you get shot because he couldn't even get a single punch in. You shouldn't be taking him on, by yourself, just because he couldn't. Because he started it. You're here again. Jason's idea. You in the middle of it.

“What the fuck.” Pete grits his teeth as he pulls the knife out.

“I got more if that’s not enough for you.” You pull out another knife, tossing it between your fingers. “Bet I can nail your jugular in a single shot. Wanna find out?” You question. “If your gun is fully loaded, you have fourteen more shots. So, we can go fourteen more rounds if you want and then I can hit your jugular. I do love target practice.”

Pete grits his teeth, holding the wound and he’s missed two shots already. Whatever you have going on, isn't worth his time right now.

“I’ll see you around.” Pete threatens you before he walks off.

You let out a breath of relief as you rush over to the two on the ground. Jason is still coughing and trying to gain his breath. Molly’s hand is on his shoulder. You can see the bloody gash near his temple and he should have had this. Maybe it’s worse than even you thought it was.

You and Molly help him to his feet, Jason brushing the both of you off. He struggles to gain his footing, the pain in his leg is as bad as it was when Deathstroke cut out the tracker. His entire body is aching with every breath. He’s embarrassed and pissed.

“Look, you’re hurt, we need to get you to a hospital—“ Molly starts once Jason is on his feet.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Jason says, keeping his voice level. It’s not her fault.

“Jay.” You state.

He can't. He can't do it and he doesn't want to.

“Just tell me what I can to help—“ Molly starts.

“Get the fuck away from me, okay?” Jason screams, gesturing his arm in the other direction.

He doesn’t want help. He’s tired of people offering to help. He doesn’t fucking want it. It doesn’t fucking help. Nothing is helping. It’s been months and he’s still paralyzed with fear. Every single time, it seems to be getting better, it just gets worse. He relives it over and over and over. It’s drowning him even when he knows how to swim.

Molly stands for a second, her heart aching being yelled at. Jason doesn’t yell at her. Jason never yells at her. Tears brim in her eyes. She’s just worried about him. He just had a gun pulled at him and got the shit beat out of him. It was terrifying.

You let out a breath and you can tell Molly’s never seen him like this. Of course, she hasn't because she doesn't know. She doesn't know about Robin or Deathstroke. It's one of those times you wish desperately that she did because she'd understand. But, she doesn't and she's going to be the one left confused and hurt.

“It’s okay.” You turn to Molly walking her towards the alley. “It’s fine, okay? I got him.” You nod your head with a weak smile

Molly stares at you in disbelief. You can’t be serious because you were just shot at. How is this fucking fine? Neither of you are fine and Molly is sick of you both trying to fool yourselves and her.

“What the hell was that? With you? He almost shot you!” Molly panics, looking you over just to make sure he missed.

“I’ve been shot at before, it’s fine. Just something I picked up.” Your voice shakes and that’s new.

Your hands are vibrating at your sides and you're realizing, it’s getting a little hard to breathe. But it’s the realization that you have been shot at before. You were left for dead, twice. It all comes back in a wave but you have to push through it. Molly can’t know and Jason needs you. You need to check on him. You can’t panic over it. It happened months ago. And you weren’t the one tortured and kidnapped by CADMUS. It’s not your trauma to process.

“You were what!?”

“Molly, it’s fine. He’ll be fine. Just go home.” You keep your voice calm and pleading.

“He’s hurt.” Molly urges with tears in her eyes.

“He’s fine, okay? I’ll look him over—“

“You’re not a doctor.” Molly grits her teeth.

“I know. I’ll get him to go, okay? Just, head home and I’ll call you. It’s fine. I promise.” You pull her in for a hug before walking back off to Jason who’s pacing and fuming.

Molly pauses for a second before she decides to listen. Jason and you aren’t gonna listen to her anyway.

“You, too!” Jason screams at you.

He doesn’t want your help either. He doesn’t deserve it. The cruel voices are back, louder than ever and echoing through the deepest parts of his chest. They scream and cackle, telling him over and over that he's not good enough. Anyone could have beaten that guy up. Anyone could have taken him and anyone would know he had a gun. Of course, he had a gun. But, Jason's terrified of everything. He's too scared. He's weak and useless and hopeless. 

“No!” You yell back. “I’m not fucking leaving you here like this.”

“Get away!” Jason’s voice cracks as he stands in front of you.

“No! Molly’s right. You’re hurt. We need to get back.” You urge him as you reach for his shoulders.

He can't go back. Bruce is going to be home and he's going to have questions. What if this gets him benched permanently? What if this proves Bruce right? What if Bruce gives up on him entirely?

“No fuck that shit!” Jason brushes you off and he’s so fucking sick of this shit. “Leave me alone!”

“Jason.” You grit your teeth. “What the hell is going on?” You move forward anyway and cup his face, minding the blood.

“Just leave me alone, please.” Jason pleads with you as a lump grows in his throat. He’s so fucking sick of this. He’s so exhausted from feeling this way.

“You know I won’t, Jay.” Your eyes soften as your heart breaks for him.

Jason takes your hands in his. “You fucking should. I’m fucked up. You deserve better anyway. Go the fuck home.”

He’s pushing. Your heart breaks and you're gonna keep fighting. You have a lot of regrets and one of those is not fighting for him sooner. You always should have. You're not gonna repeat that regret. So, you're gonna fight and if he wants to push, he’ll have to try a lot harder than that.

“Jason, don’t do this.” You beg him. “Come home with me, please.”

He shakes his head and he can’t. He’ll pay for it later. He knows he will. He’s gonna push as hard as he possibly can to get you away from him. He doesn’t want you near him. He’s fucked up. He’s useless and weak and a mess. You don’t deserve him. He doesn’t want you coming to his rescue. It’s not your job and it never should be. Jason has always been able to take care of himself alone. This is no different. He doesn’t want your damn help. He doesn’t want it. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. He loves you but he's in so much pain right now he has to do the one thing he’s always been best at. Pushing.

He’ll regret it.

“No.” Jason huffs. “I’m not going fucking home!” He yells. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t need you bailing me out! I could have fucking handled it!”

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, your voice cracking. You tug your sleeves down, Jason catching the action.

You haven’t done that in a month around him. He crumbles with the act. He knows pushing hurts you and that’s not fair just because he’s hurt. You don’t deserve it and maybe he’s right. Maybe you really do deserve better. He can’t take it back. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Not on purpose. He can’t take it back and he can’t deal with it all. He can’t deal with more guilt and pain and disappointment.

“Just leave me the fuck alone, alright?” Jason scoffs and he walks past you, knowing you’ll never leave. You don’t have it in you to walk away. So, he does.

He knows you’ll get him to break if he stays. You've always been good at getting him to calm down and be reasonable. But that’s not what he wants to be right now. He almost wants to be angry about it. He just wants to be alone, away from every person he’s disappointed and that includes you.

You watch him walk away as tears brim your eyes. You were making progress and now you’re back here. What is so different than before? You've had to bail him out before this and it wasn’t this bad. He didn’t push like this. And you realize the difference is Robin, the difference is always Robin.

At least when he was Robin, he had that to fall back on. He could chalk up his freezing to still being able to be Robin later. He’d have a second shot at it. He’d get a third shot. He was still Robin but Bruce benched him and now he’s getting his ass kicked by some nobody trafficking kids to the Joker. He has nothing left to fall back on. Every horrible thought he ever had about himself has become true today. He is useless. He is weak. He is not good enough. And you hate that he even feels that way.

But you can’t follow him because then you’ll just fight and that’s not something you want to do. He doesn’t need to feel worse over an argument with you. So, you let him walk away and you make your way down the alley.

You head back to the cafe where your bike is parked and you decide to hang out for half an hour, hoping Jason will come back. You can go back to the manor together and make sure he’s actually okay but as the time ticks by, there’s no sign of him and he’s not answering his phone. Jason is really good at pushing.

Jason looks at his phone and it's cold. It's snowing. You should just go home but he knows you're definitely still waiting for him. But, he's not even close to being ready to talk or cool down.

Jason: go home be back later I’m fine

Jason looks at his phone, watching the bubble show up. He’s still so angry with himself for all of it. He can’t even look you in the eyes right now. He doesn’t want to do anything. He just wants to be alone. But you worry. It’s been half an hour and at the very least, he can text you that he’s fine.

Y/n 😍: I don’t want to go back without you

Jason’s heart sinks as he reads the text. He hesitates over the keyboard. He almost types out “too bad” but he can't bring himself to type it out. It'll be even worse if it does.

Jason: you have to get ready for patrol tonight anyway stop worrying

Jason shuts his phone off as soon as the text sends. He simply can't. He knows he just fucked up your whole relationship. It’s been two weeks and he just fucked it all up. He’s not good enough anyway. It doesn’t matter. And yet it breaks his heart in two.

All he wants is to be Robin and be good enough again. He doesn't want to be so tired anymore. He's tired of it all. The nightmares and shaking hands. He's tired of the leg pain and the headaches and the nausea and racing heartbeat that makes him feel like he's going to pass out. He's tired of disappointing everyone and letting them down and not being good enough. He's tired of being weak. 

You let out a sigh, texting him back saying you don't have to go but the read receipt doesn't come through. You want to give him some more time to come around before you head back. So, you get on your bike and decide to head to Excellent Gotham. You always like it there anyway and it’ll be warm. And Jason knows that. If he wants to come around, he'll know where to find you.

You open the take-out container of your food once you're seated at your favorite table against the back wall. You try to eat while you scroll on your phone. Gar posted a new picture of him with Conner and Krypto at a park. Dick and Kory are seated at a picnic table behind them. A smile tugs at your lips as you double-tap the picture and pull up the comments.

You: @/dickgrayson @/koriandr look real cozy in the background 👀

You send the comment, mostly to harass Dick. You can’t do it in person, but you can do it through social media. It is something that can cheer you up usually. And you smile softly, remembering when Kory told you and Gar how Donna was the one that showed her how to work Instagram and helped her set up her account. You miss all of them.

@/dickgrayson: we were talking?

You: wE wErE tAlKiNg 🥴

@/garlogan: they’re always “talking”

You:“talking” is the first stage @/dickgrayson “don’t do anything…graphic”

@/garlogan: 😂🤮

@/dickgrayson: NOT FUNNY

@/garlogan: yes it is

You: you said it first 😂 sorry @/koriandr ily 💕

You laugh softly to yourself. You'll never miss an opportunity to bug him. You scroll through a few more photos until your attention is pulled from your phone when someone sits down in front of you.

“Hey.” Tim chimes. “You here alone?”

“Uh…yeah.” You shake your head. “Why?”

Every time you come here and Tim is here, you have a conversation about anything, really. This isn’t too weird of an exchange but you find it odd anyway for him to ask.

“You never come here alone anymore. Jason and Molly are always with you.” Tim gestures with his hand. “Everything okay?”

Tim is observant. He notices and remembers everything about everything and everybody. Before you left, you’d come in alone but since you started showing up again, you're always with Molly or Jason. Tim hasn’t seen you alone at all since. He notices you tugging your sleeves down when you order and the fact you always sit with your back up against a wall, looking out over the entire restaurant, something he doesn’t ever remember you doing. You’ve had enough conversations over the years that he considers you friends, friends enough to ask anyway.

“All good.” You shrug your shoulders, brushing it off.

Tim sighs. “My dad said you seemed down.” It’s not a lie. Mr. Drake did say that but Tim noticed anyway.

You laugh softly, nodding your head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure? You can tell me if you want. I know we don’t know each other that well, but might help. Then I don’t have to run a delivery.” Tim chuckles.

He’s always so warm. You don’t think you've ever seen Tim seem down, annoyed but not down. He’s always excited to talk about whatever new thing has been picking at his mind. He was one of the people that told you he suspected there was a new Robin. Batman and the crazy maniacs of Gotham were a topic of discussion on occasion. And boy could he ramble about it. But, you always felt like you could trust him.

He doesn’t really know Jason. He kind of knows Molly but it was you and Tim that had the most conversation. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know what happened to you or where you were and what happened. He doesn’t know any of it. And you find that a bit comforting. You trust him enough to at least talk a little bit because having to not tell anyone anything because everyone you know knows Jason is really difficult sometimes.

“Just, uh, some shit is going on and I, uh, can’t tell anyone about most of it.” You shake your head. “Me and Jason got into a fight and uh, I don’t know. He pushes sometimes. It’s fine, ya know? I get it but it, uh, it sucks anyway.” You chew the inside of your cheek.

Tim furrows his brows. “So, he gets mad and pushes you away? That’s not fair to you.” He lazily points a finger at you.

“Yeah, but he has shit going on.” You defend.

“That’s not an excuse.” Tim scoffs. “He seems cool. I don’t know him. I’m just saying, no one deserves to be pushed just because someone’s going through shit.”

“Well, he’s not an asshole to me. And I do the same shit so, ya know?”

“Well, I still think he shouldn’t do it." Tim states casually. "Why’s he do it anyway?“ Tim asks and you raise a brow at him. "I'm just saying, you're together so why's he still pushing you away?"

“I’m so serious, if you ever bring this up, I’ll kill you.” You threaten softly and Tim nods, gesturing for you to contiue. “Everyone gives up on him and I just…don’t? I’m like the only person who hasn’t and I’m not going to. I don’t even know why people do. He’s an ass sometimes and he’s all bark and bite. But, I don’t get it anyway, right? Because when you give a fuck about someone you don’t just give up cause shit gets hard. Or they fuck up. But it’s like he’s so damn used to it that when I simply don’t give up, he freaks out a little more when shit, like today, happens.” You state, keeping it a bit vague on the actual events.

Tim nods his head and he agrees. He believes in second chances. He doesn’t think people should just give up on people. He’s fucked up several times and his parents don’t give up on him. They were not happy about him dropping out but they’re not giving up on him. He doesn’t know what happened and he highly doubts you're gonna be less vague if he asks. But, he also knows some things you definitely don’t know he knows.

Tim knows. He knows Jason is Robin. Dick was Robin. Bruce is Batman. He knows you're Bluejay, a vigilante name the Gothamites have given you all because of your blue suit and you patrol with Batman. You do not talk about the irony in it. At least it's a little better than Acid Fingers. But, Tim is very observant. With a photographic memory.

Dick is one of two people in the world who can perform a specific flip and Robin 1.0 and Nightwing can also perform that trick which means Bruce Wayne is Batman. Jason was adopted by Bruce after Robin 1.0 left which means Jason has to be Robin 2.0, on top of the fact Tim remembers seeing videos and him and Robin 2.0 walk the same way. They share the same stride and confidence. And that’s how he figured out you're Bluejay.

The way you walk, how you hold yourself. You're living with Bruce Wayne, dating Jason Todd. It’s all pretty obvious to him in all fairness. So, he is kind of guessing whatever is going on has something to do with the vigilante life and that’s not something he can so much help with. But, he can try.

“Do you want my advice?” Tim asks.

“Sure?” You question.

“You said he pushes so, have you tried…letting him?”

“The point is that I don’t? So, I’m not like everyone else and I don't give up on people very much.”

“Yeah, but, you not letting him doesn’t work with whatever is going on, right?”

“I guess?”

“So, let him. And he’ll come back, right? Be there when he comes back. You said, it’s what he does. So, maybe you,” Tim gestures towards you as he leans back in his seat. “Being there all the time is suffocating him.” Tim states casually. “You could give him the space and when he comes around, be there like you normally would. Maybe he just needs the space, right?”

“I--” You pause and that’s kind of a good point you haven’t thought of. “I…yeah, actually that kind of makes sense. I just…worry about him. If you knew, you’d know why, ya know?”

“So, tell him you’ll give him space or whatever but he has to check in and tell you he’s fine so you’re not worried.”

You groan, putting your head on the table for a second before picking it back up again. “That’s actually a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s easier from the outside sometimes.” Tim chuckles awkwardly.

“Thanks, Tim. I will try that.” You nod softly.

“You're welcome.” Tim smiles warmly. "So, you decided to just come here because you had a fight and wait for him to come around?"

“Oh, you really don’t want to work. Don’t you have like schoolwork to do or something?” You quip with a grin tugging at your lips.

“I dropped out.” Tim shifts in his seat slightly.

“Why? Aren’t you like a genius?”

Tim shrugs casually. “I mean not...”

“He does our books.” Mr. Drake calls from the counter making you laugh.

“Genius.” You state with a nod.

“Kind of.” Tim rolls his shoulders.

“I just, uh, I always liked it here. Your family is always here, and always felt real warm. And, uh, ya know? Been a while since I felt that so. Like, whole family dynamic thing.” You nod your head.

“Oh, well, in that case, you can run my deliveries. Really feel the warmth of a family then.” Tim nods twice with a toothy grin, glancing to his dad.

“No, I’m good.” You laugh. “That’s all you, Timmy.” You scrunch your nose. “Thanks, though, seriously.”

“Hey, we’re friends, right?” Tim shrugs casually.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head. “Coming in here enough over the years, I guess so.” You smile softly. “Seriously, thank you. And also, I’m serious, don’t tell anyone. We don’t normally like when people know our shit.”

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.” Tim chuckles.

“Well, I’m gonna head back to the manor. Give him space like you said. I’ll be back probably tomorrow.” You laugh as you get up.

“Oh, well, I’ll be here.” Tim states with wide eyes. “They won’t let me leave.” He whispers.

“So, go to school.” You mock him as Tim groans.

“Yeah, alright, be safe.” Tim chuckles.

“Yeah, too. All those delivers and such.” You offer him a thumbs-up before you head out of the restaurant.

The night goes by and you don’t go on patrol. You want to be here when Jason gets home and being out with Bruce just seems like it’ll make you more annoyed tonight. It’s his fault today happened anyway. So, you stay home and listen to Tim, giving Jason some space for the night.

Jason texts you here and there saying he’s still fine because he’s not throwing in the towel. The later the night gets, the more texts come through from him. He’s calmer as the night goes on and his anger is fading away. He apologizes a few more times and he wonders how he’s ever going to come back from what he said to you and Molly. Neither of you deserve it. You were just worried about him.

At some point, Jason stopped receiving texts from you and figured that was his cue to head back home. It’s two in the morning and he has to guess you fell asleep. He thinks it’s safe to go home and get to bed. He won’t have to talk about it when he gets home. He can just try to get at least some sleep.

When he gets home, Bruce is still out on patrol. The manor is completely quiet and he goes right to your room, just to check on you before he heads to his own bed. But, when he looks into your room, the bed is still made and you aren’t there. His heart plummets because he thinks he really blew it. He’s so sure you left. Maybe you're staying with Molly. Maybe you're just waiting for him to calm down before you break it off entirely. You're done and it’s all his fault.

Maybe you were only texting him back so you wouldn’t feel guilty if he did something stupid. He’s not sure, but he really thinks he messed things up with you this time.

Jason feels tears brim his eyes as he shuts the door. His head hangs as the lump grows further into his throat as he walks to his room. He did what he always does, push until someone gives up. He really, in the pit of his stomach, didn’t think you ever would. And he doesn’t even blame you. He just feels guilty and hurt for everything in the first place. He just keeps fucking it all up.

When he reaches the door of his room, his arm is weak as it creaks open but his attention snaps to the TV that’s on. There isn’t anything playing, it’s just the screensaver but it’s on and there’s an automatic shut off which means he didn’t leave it on. He looks in the opposite direction towards his bed where you're sleeping.

Jason sucks in a breath of relief at the sight of you. You didn’t give up. You didn’t leave. You waited for him in his room because you knew he would be avoiding talking and probably you when he got back if you were awake. And his heart swells. He doesn’t deserve you. But, he walks closer to the bed anyway and strips to his boxers before crawling into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

You hum from in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. “Jay?” Your voice is groggy as you tiredly look over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” Jason whispers softly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay.” You smile softly, rolling around his arms to face him, your eyes barely open as you look up at him. The bruise from the day is hidden against the pillow and the low light of the bedroom. “Glad you’re home.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jason states and you barely make out the guilt across his face.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk in the morning.” You snuggle against his chest. Truthfully, you're just glad he's home and he's safe. One bad day doesn't destroy everything you've built. “Not mad, just tired. Get some sleep, Jay. It’s just you and me.” You press a kiss to his chest, feeling Jason relax against you.

“I love you.” Jason mutters against the top of your head.

“I love you, too.” You smile softly against him.

Jason squeezes you softly against him and he doesn’t know why he’s still lucky to have you. His life is shit besides you and you pick him anyway. You should leave him and he knows you should. He was wrong for speaking to you that way and for pushing so damn hard. But you don’t. You're here anyway for reasons he’ll never understand. But he is immensely thankful you're still here. With him.

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