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maple-seed · 4 months

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Thrown - Chapter 45: Absence

Summary: Loki takes a trip abroad and longs for what he left behind.

Word Count: 2,059

Author's Notes: Hey everyone. This chapter of Thrown will be the last one posted until January. Holidays are taking their toll and my writing speed has slowed considerably so I'm going to take a little hiatus. My current plan is to start posting again on January 11, 2024, and hopefully returning to the once-a-week schedule at that time. Thanks again for your patience. Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates, and take care.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki didn't care for it, the Avengers compound. It was all much too pristine. Clean lines and straight edges. Crisp white and chrome and glass. Sterile. It felt lifeless, when compared to the meandering streets and stone buildings back in New Asgard. Perhaps worst of all, it was full of Avengers.

The tower had been superior, Loki felt. At least the tower had a certain element of grandeur going for it. He kept this opinion to himself. Something told him that may be a sore point.

This trip had been mandatory. There were things to discuss regarding New Asgard, but chief among them was the fact of Loki's continued residency. They called it a "review of progress", but obviously it was a check in to make certain he hadn't been using his freedom to plot some sort of coup. The euphemism was laughable. Loki wouldn't deny that he had progressed, in many ways quite drastically, since he came to this realm, but in what way could these men hope to measure it?

Moreover, he found it insulting that they believed if he had been plotting a coup, that they any hope of detecting it.

There had been interviews and meetings and endless questions. Thor had, apparently, written very detailed reports regarding the goings-on of New Asgard, and particularly Loki's contributions. While the descriptions in the reports were true, Loki felt they portrayed his actions in an overly-generous light.

Throughout the assessments and interrogations, Loki hadn't mentioned you. There were a number of reasons, of course. They would not be likely to understand the way he cared for you, and even less likely to understand the way you cared for him. They would wonder how it was possible that someone like you might love him. He didn't have the energy to explain that he wondered the same thing. They would suspect he had bewitched or corrupted you somehow. Possibly, they might insult you for your folly, which was certainly not something he would be able to tolerate. More than any of that, however, describing you to them simply felt wrong. You were something more precious than this. This trip here was a direct result of the most terrible period of his life. A punctuation on his misery. Even drawing the concept of you into this mire felt like it would sully you somehow.

And so he refrained from mentioning the source of his most drastic changes while here on Midgard. Thor followed his lead, and only brought you up occasionally, and then he only described you as their friend. Loki was grateful.

The days dragged on. Any time he felt that surely he had answered every question of every authority, there was someone new with something else they had to ask, just to be sure. And still that was not the most unbearable part. The most unbearable part was being away from you. This absence made him question how he had ever gone so long without putting his hands on you. It was ridiculous, in the basest sense. He had gone much longer than this without seeing you. He had gone a thousand years without seeing you. He had ached for you for months while standing by your side, but somehow this ache was stronger.

Thor relayed messages by text, and even offered to facilitate a call, which Loki accepted only once. The walls here were listening, quite literally, and there was little he wanted to say to you that he was comfortable having recorded by Stark. Still, hearing your voice had buoyed his spirits and made the rest of this trip moderately more tolerable.

One night, Loki dreamed. He was aware of the dream immediately. He was on the mountain terrace that your hiking trail led to, standing by the stream. The moon was bright and the stars were out, as they had been this past winter when you had brought them here. You were there, standing near the edge, looking out over the landscape. He breathed your name. You looked back over your shoulder, a smile breaking immediately. "Loki." It was only his name, but it carried with it all the longing that he felt. The two of you met and embraced and it all seemed so real; the air, the sky, your skin. It was an illusion, yes, but it was true enough for now, and he held you in his arms for the rest of the night, if only in his dream.

This morning was to be their last here at the Compound. There was another meeting, supposedly the final one, where Loki would be interrogated. Thor insisted that "interrogated" was not the right word. Loki felt certain that it was the right word when he found himself sitting at a glass table in some conference room, his brother beside him, with Stark, Rogers, and Fury seated across. Stark and Rogers seemed to be amiable enough, but Fury kept a stone-faced expression. Loki realized he had never seen the man look anything other than angry, or at best mildly irritated. It could be that his face simply looked that way. Perhaps having just the one eye was naturally limiting in expression. He and Thor should exchange notes, he thought. He was not foolish enough to say it out loud.

"I gotta hand it to you, Billy Goat Gruff, you're earning all the gold stars here." Stark wore that insufferable smirk of his. "What he means to say," Rogers, ever the peacemaker, cut in, "is that we think you've been doing very well in your time in New Asgard." "I'm grateful that my existence meets your approval." Loki fought to keep his teeth from grinding. "Oh come on, don't be like that." Stark closed a folder in front of him with a flourish. "You know why we feel the way we do. Before you showed up here in your TARDIS, the last time we met you were blowing us up and tossing us off buildings. I mean, you cut out a man's eyeball for god's sake. Completely unnecessary move, I might add." Loki looked away with a scowl, fighting back violent memories. "And now," Stark continued, "now you're carrying groceries and building homes and teaching underprivileged kids magic algebra or whatever." He leaned back in his chair. "I think it's understandable that we're impressed. You've worked so hard to overcome your natural tendencies." "Perhaps you've mistaken what my natural tendencies are." Loki muttered. "And we're willing to accept that." Rogers offered. "But you understand why we've had to take these measures." "Certainly." "That being said," he glanced at Stark and Fury, "I think we can agree that we can lighten up a bit. Less surveillance. Fewer reports. You've put in the work and you've earned a bit more trust." Loki was annoyed with himself for feeling appreciative of such a meager gesture. But he did, all the same. "Thank you."

Fury spoke for the first time. "I have a few questions first, before we loosen the leash on this would-be mass murder." Thor scowled at the title, but didn't respond otherwise. Loki nodded. "I am happy to oblige." Fury leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, lacing his fingers. "We've spoken at length about your past; the good and the bad. I want to talk about your future." "Of course." "What do you see in your future? Are you really content living in a small town on the coast of Norway? Ruling over nothing in particular? Do you truly think a prince, a god, like you won't get bored? Crave something more?"

Images passed through Loki's mind. The winding streets of New Asgard, the road that led to the mortal town, your farm nestled in the bend. He saw your studio, your kitchen, your face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I can say with absolute certainty that everything I crave can be found in New Asgard. Even now, all I wish is to be there again."

Fury's eye bored into him, perhaps trying to judge if he was sincere. He seemed to find what he was looking for and leaned back in his seat.

It was silent for a moment, Stark cut his eyes from one person to the next and drummed his fingers on the table. "Okay, so we're done here? The wonder twins are free to go?"

If Loki had his way they would have made for the hangar directly from that conference room, but there were hours still to pass before departure. Thor had to pack, he had farewells to bid, and even had lunch with some of his teammates. Loki caught word that the Widow would be there and he was certain his presence would sour the mood. He abstained, and had a meager meal in his room instead. He fixed his mind on the promise of seeing you again and whiled away the hours until finally, finally they boarded the quinjet. The flight was tolerable enough, knowing that every minute brought him closer to you. When they landed he didn't bother going home at all. He said his goodbye to Thor and immediately set off down the road from New Asgard.

He opened your door and was met with the smell of baking. You were in the kitchen, one tray of cookies cooling on a rack and another about to enter the oven. His ache was soothed at seeing you, but it wasn't enough. He called your name as he crossed the room as quickly as he could.

You glanced up at him as he reached you. "Oh, hey Loki." It was much more casual than he expected. Not deterred, he leaned in to kiss you but missed his target as you turned away to place the tray in the oven. "How was your flight back?" He was stunned for a moment, but took a step closer. "It was fine." He leaned again and once more you took no notice and turned at the last moment to another counter. This time he narrowed his eyes. "No fights with Thor?" He didn't answer, instead he placed himself in your path and his suspicions were confirmed when you casually turned from him and reached up to open a cabinet. You startled when his arm shot out and snapped it shut. His eyes were burning as he loomed and growled. "If you don't kiss me immediately I will burn this realm to the ground." You considered this for a moment. "Where would you start? There are a couple places I would-" You were cut off as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you close in a crushing kiss. He was gratified when your hands immediately found their place at his shoulders.

Once he was satisfied he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. "You are, without question, the most irritating, petulant mortal I have ever had the misfortune of loving." A smirk curled your lips. "How many mortals have you loved?" He chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. "Just the one." "Sounds like I'll be winning a bunch of titles, then." "Yes. Superlative in all respects."

He was pleased to notice that your hands didn't leave him, winding their way around his neck. You leaned your head against his shoulder and sighed. "I missed you." "And I, you. Desperately." "How did it go?" "Very well. For several days I refrained from throwing Stark out of a window. A resounding success." You laughed. "I'm so proud of you." "And how were things here?" "I wasted away, pining for my lost love." "I should expect nothing less." He stated solemnly. "I do have the remedy."

Without notice, he bent and grasped your waist, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed. "Loki!" He started carrying you toward the bedroom. You kicked and wriggled, to his absolute delight. "Loki wait!" "Oh, I have waited long enough, I think." You reached away from him, toward the oven. "The cookies!" "You should have considered that before you gave that insolent performance at my homecoming." You struggled some more, laughing. "At least let me turn the oven off!" He waved a hand and there was a click of a knob. With no more excuses, you relented.

He stepped into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

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#loki #loki fanfiction #loki x reader #mcu loki #loki fanfic #loki mcu #reader insert #loki thrown

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sofie-toffy · 2 months

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Deadplate! RoVince (Vince x Rody)

“Hey Vince? If it’s alright, can i ask..how did you lose your sense of taste? If i remember you lost it when you were younger, right?”

There was a waver in Rody’s voice, afraid that Vince would be offended by the question, refusing to answer. However, quite the opposite happened.

Vince turned to him, a small silence between the two before he continued.

“Well, yes. I lost my taste buds when i was around 10, I suppose. I had gotten ill…I was so sick at that time that my immune system started to weaken, and i ended up with a taste disorder in the end.”

The raven haired continued, a gleam of guilt in his eyes. “I remember my parents, they were so worried when they looked at me, i was weak and i nearly died, actually…Sorry to say this so suddenly I don’t mean to-”

“No no! Not at all! It’s perfectly fine…And if it’s alright, may I ask you another question?” The redhead asked, to which Vince nodded in reply

“…What’s it like? Not being able to taste?”

A puff of smoke came out of Vince’s cigarette, his voice coming soon after

“To be quite frank, It’s plain awful. With every meal, every dish you eat, it tastes like nothing. All you can feel, all you can rely on is the texture of the food. And I can never understand what the food critics say about my food, because I can never taste it.” He whispered, a small blush adorning his cheeks and a thump beating in his heart. He only confessed this to a few people, to which their replies weren’t in the least bit positive. There was something in Vince’s stomach that would toss and turn, hoping Rody wasn’t like those people. It’s been over a year since they’ve met, a year since he began to trust him, little by little. He wouldn’t know what to do if that trust was broken.

They stood in silence. Vince didn’t know what to do, what to say. During all his life he craved for silence. But he hates when Rody has nothing to say, especially in this situation. His throat was dry and there wasn’t anything left to say. All Vince did was look down in shame, avoiding Rody’s gaze.

He didn’t know that the reason for that silence was because all that Rody could do was look at Vince in awe. Vince, an all renowned chef, owner of a michellin star restaurant-

“I know what you’re thinking. Vince interrupted his thoughts “Isn’t it ironic to be a chef who can’t taste? I mean- what kind of moron chose this for his career”

“What?! No! i wasn’t thinking that at all! I think it’s sort of cool, in my opinion” Rody’s olive eyes gazing softly into Rody’s charcoal ones.

“Pfft- yeah right, whenever i confess my story to my colleagues all I get in return are pitiful looks or looks of scrutiny” He scoffed, unbelieving.

“I’m telling the truth Vince. You really are amazing. I mean sure- it is ironic to be a chef and not being able to taste- but isn't that what makes you even greater? You ignored everyone’s judgment and followed your own path…and to think you lost your taste from an illness you nearly died from…I hope you know you deserve everything you’ve worked hard for.”

Vince couldn’t help but gaze up at Rody, sitting straight on the bench, as he observed the blunt waiter shiver from the sudden blow of wind. “It’s a lie” His brain reasoned. Rody’s a friendly guy, of course he’d compliment people easily. But there was a small ounce of hope that the lie wasn’t really a lie at all. That Rody really thinks of Vince that way, despite all his flaws. He wishes to any God out there that every word he spoke was how he really views him. It didn’t matter if other people didn’t view him like that, so long as Rody did

“Right…thank you, Rody” Vince could tell from the sincerity in Rodys eyes, he really did mean it. And he could also tell from the glow on Rody’s face, he’d be in trouble. His face wasn’t glowing in actuality, the moon was a mere crescent and the trees were covering the light. But how is it that Vince could only describe Rody’s face as something from a painting? From his little beauty marks to the freckles adorned on his nose, they all seemed to unsettle the poor chef’s heart.

(A small part of a fanfic im writing on ao3. Idrk if its good i wrote this at like 1 am. I’ll check it later)

#dead plate #rody x vincent dead plates #vince x rody #rody x vincent #rody dead plate #rody lamoree #dead plate rody #vince dead plate #dead plate vince #vincent dead plate #vincent charbonneau #rovince #rodent #dead plate fanfic #fanfic #fluff #gay men #dead plate manon

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queer-overwatch · 13 days

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Omg hi! We need more venture! And im having major brainrot of Venture and how they might be with kids! What if Reader and Sloane went to one of those itty bitty play dig sight activities and just see little kids brushing sand away from (fake) fossils! Like how will they react seeing a little kid learning about dinosaurs from Venture?

OR!

Reader having to babysit their niece or nephew and Venture is there along the way. And the just their niece/nephew just absolutely love listening to Sloane’s stories!

Im sorry if this is too much! You dont have to do this! Or you can just do whatever! I love your work and finally we can get more Venture love!

Venture with readers Niece!

It's not to much at all! I really like the idea of Venture being a parent personally- decided to do a one-shot for this one, hope u like it anon! -Frisk

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"Heeey, Sloane-? Sooooo quick question, how do you feel about 5 year olds-?" You grin sheepishly, standing behind Venture who was at their desk, studying a rock from an ancient Roman burial sight they found.

"Oh I love kids! They're always so cute, even though they can be brats sometimes- why you askin?" They put down the rock as they talk, turning to look at you curiously.

"Well, my sibling asked me if I could babysit today, and I may have said yes without thinking of the fact that you'd have to deal with my niece too." You laugh nervously, really hoping they won't be upset. You knew they loved kids so you weren't too worried about it, but you also weren't sure if they'd planned to do something today.

"Aw really!? I've haven't gotten to meet your family before! That's so cool! Does your niece like history?! I really hope she does- I love telling people about my discoveries! Do you think she likes eating rocks too-?" Venture, just as enthusiastic as ever, bombards you with questions about your family. You let out a sigh of relief as you try your best to answer all of their many, many, many questions, trying your best to keep them contained as you wait for your sister to drop off your niece, "Venture you are not feeding my niece rocks."

"Aww, but these ones are so cool!"

"I will chip another one of your teeth if you convince her to eat a rock."

"GASP! Betrayal!"

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"Of course, see you later! Love you too!" You gently usher your niece inside as you part ways with your sibling, now stuck babysitting for the next five hours.

Venture stands just behind the door, a nervous feeling in the back of their head. Despite being slightly worried your niece wouldn't like them, they were still super excited! They really hoped she would like them so she would tell your sibling good things about them and your sibling would finally want to meet them! And, of course, they were also hoping your niece would like to hear the story's Venture had to share.

As soon as you're niece is five steps in the door, Venture makes themselves known, jumping in front of her with their hands on their hips, in a sort of superhero pose.

"Hey there, little miss! How'd you get in here, huh?" They kneel down, a light tone in their voice as they tease her. "Mi amor! I think we've got an intruder on our hands!"

You shut the front door as you laugh to yourself, moving to stand next to Venture and rest one hand on their shoulder, slightly leaning against them. "Yeah, I think we do! We've gotta send 'em to the interrogation room!"

You scoop up your niece, laughing as she squirm around in your arms, cleary enjoying all the attention.

You both bring her to Venture's work space, setting her down in their chair and trying your hardest to look serious as you "interrogate" her.

"Who might you be, hm? And why are you here?!" Venture starts, poking your niece's cheek as they question her.

Your niece, while giggling, manages to answer their questions pretty well in your opinion. "I'm Charlotte! I'm here 'cuz my momma wants me to be!" She huffs, hands on her hips with the most adorable, smug face you've ever seen.

Venture nods along as she answers, clearly taking this so, so very seriously. "Well then, I suppose you can stick around, as long as you like to learn about history!" They laugh, picking her up and tucking her under their arm, bringing them to a spare room where they keep a few of their favorite artifacts they've they've found to show off.

"This one is from Greece! I got to go there for a week last year! And this one if from a remote area in northern Canada! Found that during my first year with the Wayfinders!" They point out different rocks and other things you can't quite identify, easily answering any questions your niece throws their way.

You stand in the doorway, smiling to yourself and admiring just how sweet Venture can be, wondering how in the world you got lucky enough to be dating them.

Your mind wanders, wondering what Venture would be like if the two of you had a kid. It wasn't something you thought about too often, but seeing how sweet they were with your niece, you couldn't help but wonder if they'd ever want kids of their own.

Obviously it wouldn't be anytime soon, you were both far too busy for that, but one day, maybe.

"Amor! Come here! You gotta listen to this story too! This cool little coin is from the Renaissance Era!" Venture snaps you out of your thoughts, holding a little golden coin up for you to see.

You move to stand next to them, taking your niece out of their arms and holding her yourself, both of you listening intently to Ventures story. Clearly, you're niece and you had one thing in common, you both absolutely adored the wonderful nerd you were dating.

#venture #overwatch x reader #overwatch #venture overwatch #venture x reader #sloane cameron #Xornk

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lives-in-midgard · 7 months

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Invisible String

(Musician AU Part 2)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: Steve and you finally solve the miscommunication that was between the two of you.

Word Count: 1730

A/N: Hey everyone! This is part 2 of Steve's story in my musician AU and I hope you like it! I made the moodboard myself and the divider is made by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to be on the series taglist comment here.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Masterlist | Musician AU

“Wait so that’s the Steve from high school?” Yelena asked. It was the day after your “date” with Steve and Yelena wanted to come over. She wanted to know everything and so you started to tell her everything from the beginning.

“Yep, that’s him.” You answered.

“But why did you never tell me that he is in “The Midnight Rockers”?”

“I actually don’t know.”

“Hmmm. But how was the date? Wait was it even a date now?” Yelena questioned.

“That’s the same question I asked myself later when I came home.” Yelena chuckled but you were serious.

“That’s a joke, right.”

“No. I really don’t know if it was a date or not. We didn’t talk about that.” You said and meant it. You talked about everything but not if it was a date or not. What you didn’t know was that at the same time Steve had a similar conversation with Bucky.

“Your date was y/n? how is she?” Bucky asked curious about how you have been all these years.

“She is doing good.”

“That’s good to hear. How was the date?” Bucky asked and Steve began to get nervous.

“Well, it was good but I’m not really sure if it was a date.”

“Oh, punk.” Bucky said.

“Did it feel like a date to you?” Bucky asked after a while.

“Well, I don’t know Buck. We had a really good time together; it was really nice seeing her again. And yeah, well I really like her.” Steve said and blushed a little.

“There you have your answer! It was a date.” Bucky guessed but Steve wasn’t really sure about that.

“It must have been destiny that you met her again. I mean we both knew that you still like her. She was the reason you broke up with Peggy.” Bucky told Steve when they were suddenly interrupted by Sam and Clint coming into the room.

“What’s with Peggy?” Sam asked.

“Nothing.” Steve answered and Sam looked at Bucky for answers.

“Steve was on a date with y/n.” Bucky said, and Steve rolled his eyes while Sam and Clint began to smile.

“Are they finally a couple?” Sam asked in excitement because he used to ship Steve and you back in high school.

“Well, I’m not really sure.” Steve sighed and Sam and Clint were confused.

“What?” Sam asked and then Steve told them about the date. While Sam and Bucky had the idea that Steve should ask you on another date and if you say yes then the first date was also a date. Clint said that he should just ask you if it was a date instead of that stupid idea. But of course, Steve didn’t listen to Clint and decided to send you a message after the band rehearsal.

Yelena was about to leave when you got the message from Steve.

“Hey, do you have plans for this Friday afternoon?”

“Is this a date?” You said and showed Yelena the message. Yelena looked at the message, a little too long in your opinion.

“Lena?” You said and she looked at you.

“Well, you know I don’t really get such messages, so I’m not really sure.” You groaned and Yelena chuckled.

“Just say that you don’t have anything planned and find out there.” Yelena suggested and you decided to do that. Yelena then had to leave because she had to go to work at the bar soon.

“I’m free on Friday afternoon” You texted back and got nervous about what he would say.

A few minutes later when you were about to start cooking you got a message from Steve.

“What you like to spend time with me?” Well, this doesn’t sound like a date, right? Just a meet up between two friends, right?

By Steve:

“I don’t think that’s how you ask someone on a date” Sam whispered to Clint.

“Well, I don’t think either.”

“Sure, can’t wait.” You texted back and were excited to see him again.

“Me too, I’ll pick you up at four o’clock.”

The week went by quickly and you didn’t even had time to get nervous because you’ll see Steve soon. Between work you didn’t have time to see Yelena and ask her on her opinion what to wear. So, you decided to just wear something cute and comfy. When it was nearly the time Steve would arrive, you took your bag and went downstairs to wait outside of your apartment building. A few minutes later Steve parked his car at an empty parking lot. He stepped out of his car and walked over to you. Steve was again wearing a hat and glasses to cover that it was him.

“Hi” You greeted each other but weren’t sure if you should hug him.

“Again, wearing a hat and glasses?” You teased him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to get recognized from fans or paparazzies.”

“It’s okay, it suites you.” You said with a chuckle.

“But I promise, we are driving somewhere where I won’t need it.”

“Oh, now I’m curious.” Steve chuckled and led you to his car. He opened the door for you, and you sat down. Steve started to drive out of the city and after a while you could guess where he was driving. He drove into a small town, past your old high school. A smile crossed your lips, and Steve saw it and smiled back at you. After passing the high school he drove into the direction where you two had your summer job.

The yoghurt shop.

You two worked there because you wanted to get some money to buy concert tickets for one of your favorite artists. At first you worked there alone but after a while Steve joined you to help you gain the money. Together you had the money sooner and decided to go there together. After the concert you decided to continue to work there. When Steve made the band with the boys, they also had a few small gigs there. You of course where always there to support them. You two had a lot of fun there and enjoyed your breaks at the small sea behind the shop. This was also the place where you wanted to tell him about your feelings but then Steve suddenly told you about his feelings for Peggy.

You came back to reality when you realized that Steve opened the door for you. You didn’t notice that he put his cap and the glasses away because now you could finally see his beautiful face better.

“Are we getting some yoghurt?”

“Of course, we are.” When you went in you were greeted by the owner of the shop. The old lady immediately recognized the two of you. She was so happy to see the two of you that she gave you a hug and decided to give you the yogurt for free. You ordered your yogurt and then went outside. You followed Steve when he walked behind the shop and sat down under the tree near the sea. You both started to eat your yogurt and after a while when you were finished Steve started to chuckle. You looked over to him and joined him.

“Why are we laughing?” You asked after a while.

“Remember the mess we made in the shop.”

“Of course, I do. There was yogurt everywhere. We almost got kicked out because of you.”

“Hey, you were the one who started the yogurt fight.” Steve joked.

“Okay, maybe that’s right but you wouldn’t stop to throw the yoghurt.” Steve began to laugh again.

“But it was fun.” Steve said.

“Yeah, it really was.” You could see it right in front of you Steve covered in yogurt with the brightest smile on his face. You couldn’t really remember why you started this fight, but it definitely was one of your funniest moments together. But also, one of the moments that made you fall in love with Steve even more.

You talked about the past and laughed a lot. Time went by and you watched the sun go down while Steve put his arm around you. After a while you were feeling cold, so Steve put his jacked around your shoulder. When Steve brought you back home you gave him a quick hug. After the meet up with Steve you still couldn’t tell if it was a date. You were even more confused now. Did it feel like a date? Yes. Did you start getting feelings for Steve again? Yes. Was it a date for Steve? You weren’t really sure about that. But Steve was sure, it definitely was one.

You were about to walk back to your apartment when you noticed that you still have his jacked on. You turned around and saw that Steve just opened the door to go in.

“Wait I still have your jacked.” You shouted and Steve turned around.

“Keep it on. You can give it back on our next date.” Steve smiled and now you were confused. Steve closed the door and made a few steps, so that he was standing right in front of you.

“What?” Steve nervously asked when he noticed your look.

“I wasn’t sure if this was a date.” You began to blush out of embarrassment and Steve scratched his neck.

“Oh, I thought it was one but if you don’t want it to be one, we can just say that we were out as friends.” Steve said with a sad look in his eyes.

“No, I wanted it to be a date I just wasn’t sure if it was one for you.” You let out a laugh and Steve joined you.

“Why are we like this.”

“I don’t know.” You hide your face behind your hand.

“Okay, let’s begin again.” Steve said and you put your hands away and looked at him.

“Y/n would you like to go on a date with me?” Steve smiled and you chuckled.

“Yes, I would really like to.”

When you went into your apartment you had a big smile on your face. You were glad that you finally knew that it was a date and that you’ll have a next one with Steve. You can’t wait to see him again but there was one part of you thinking if it really was a good idea to be more than friends.

Taglist:

@jamneuromain | @magnificentsaladllama

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m0rbidmacabre · 3 months

Text

The Latin Professor

You are a student of his, the cardinal… your crush seems to be getting out of hand and your embarrassment begins to rise as the cardinal offers to help you study for your upcoming Latin test.

1110 words

(Hey guys, I know it's been a long time since I have written anything… i guess this me trying to get back into the flow of writing. This part isn't very long.. But I wanted to introduce the characters, and how they are with each other before switching. This is probably only going to published on tumbler as my confidence is shot at the moment. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none so far…

The Latin Professor

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part three

Cardinal Copia had never been the most popular of people, even when he ascended to cardinal in his early adulthood. People always saw him as uptight, scholarly and tiresome. You however… You didn’t see him that way, you saw a handsome, knowledgable man with an undeniably strong work ethic, but you kept your opinions to yourself, afraid your peers would jeer at you for your crush on the cardinal.

This particular day you were working hard in the library, studying for your upcoming language assessment in Latin. You were starting to think that taking the extra course wasn’t the best of your ideas. It wasn’t that you were inept of learning, it was the fact the Cardinal taught the latin class, while you admire him for his efforts in trying to teach you... The class always ended with you daydreaming about him. He would be stood teaching you, making sure your pronunciation was perfect, and all you could think about was how you would like his hands all over you and his perfect mouth in places that would make lucifer himself blush. This often leads to you losing your train of thought and embarrassing yourself even more in front of him. The cardinal most likely thought you were ditsy, a poor student, but if he did… he never let you think that. His praise was never something he kept to himself around you.

As you were flicking through the pages of Latin for dummies, your head in your hands as you struggle to take in the words on the page in front of you, you hear a small cough from behind you. You let out a big huff in annoyance, the last thing you needed right now was siblings bothering you when you needed to study. you slam the book closed and turn in your seat. Your anger quickly turning to embarrassment the moment you notice that it wasn’t a sibling, but the cardinal stood behind you.

“Are you studying hard for your test Sorella?” the cardinal said to you as your face turned a beetroot shade of red.

“I am cardinal, yes. I’m sorry, I thought you were a sibling” you quietly reply shifting in your seat and tidying up your hair... Anything to keep yourself distracted from the awful truth you had just huffed at him. Keeping your temper in check was never your strong suit and you had just shown that to the person you admire most.

“Si, Si… Why don’t you take a break from your studies? You seem frustrated. I hear the gardens look beautiful this afternoon. Would you like to take a walk? I could help you with your studies.” The cardinal offering a small smile to you, his attempt at comforting you, not once questioning your temper.

“Oh, erm… are you sure? Are you not too busy? You quickly answered him, in an attempt to remind him of his duties, in another attempt to avoid him.

“Oh Sorella, I could take some time for my favourite student, si?” he beamed back at you. You felt your stomach grow warm the moment he called you his favourite student, how could you say no? you simply couldn’t.

“Okay…” you smile at him picking up your books, and then offering him your hand to help you up. He obliges and as you stand up, he tucks your arm into his keeping it effortlessly close to him.

Walking though the ministry you both barely say more than a few words to each other. Both of you happy to walk in comforting silence. You steal a glance at the cardinal as you both reach primos gardens, his eyes firmly on the path in front of you both... You couldn’t help but notice how handsome he looked when he walked with purpose. “The gardens do look beautiful today, maybe a little more because you’re here…” you thought to yourself as the smile eclipsed your lips.

“How about we sit here Sister?” the cardinal asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Erm... Sure, sure” you quickly answered, hoping he didn’t notice the fact you were completely lost in thought.

You both sat down under the willow tree together, the sun making its presence known, casting shadows on the ground that dance though the low-hanging leaves of the tree.

The cardinal turns to you “et soror, ubi incipimus?” (so sister, where do we start?)

You smile at him; you love hearing him speak Latin, he always speaks with such passion. You pull out your book and flick though the pages, looking to formulate an answer for him.

“lets 'legere cardinal” (let's read Cardinal) you goofily answer him. Your answer made him smile so sweetly at you, he always liked your willingness to try.

“Perfect, Sorella!” he answered you. You smile at him, his praise sending you a little pink.

You carried on flicking the pages of the book, and the cardinal sat close by, his legs crossed under his cassock. Your eyes darted the pages as you both sat together.

“Now sister, tell me, how do you say beautiful”

“Pulchra, Cardinal” you answered him, quickly.

“Si… Sister, now can you write it for me?”

You take out your pen and set about writing out the word beautiful, the cardinal shifting in closer to watch that you are doing it correctly. You spell out the word on your pad, saying the word as you write... Mimicking each letter as you spell it. The Cardinal smiles at your efforts and leans in “you see this here Sister? It should be written like this… if you don’t mind...”. Taking your hand, he corrects the word you had just written, lovingly moving with you as you both spell out the words together. “Like this…” he adds, smiling at you. Your eyes drift to the pen and your hand, his hand is placed around yours… and all you can do is look with the embarrassment slowly setting in. You quickly remove your hand, the pen falling to the page and the cardinal removing his just as fast as both of your eyes meet.

“Sorella, I’m sorry... I was only trying to help” the cardinal said to you shyly, his own embarrassment setting in. His face hinting at a pink tint as he waits for your reaction.

“No, cardinal… it’s ok... I have to go... I’m sorry...” you collect your book, slamming it shut and getting to your feet. Running away from the scene before you die of embarrassment. You ache to look back, but your heart won’t let you as you quickly run through the ministry and slam your dorm room closed behind you.

#the band ghost #ghost #ghost fandom #ghost bc #ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia #papa copia #papa emeritus 4 #fanfic #copia my beloved #popia copia #copia emeritus #copia x reader

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anashins · 1 year

Note

Hey babes may I request some rough make up smut with husband Doyoung after a heated argument? Perhaps a bit power play and breeding kink? 👀

-✨ℒ

Pairing: Doyoung x Reader

Genre: drama, fluff, smut

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: You and your husband have always wanted children - until he starts doubting himself and you have to show him that he has no reason to at all.

A/N: I think this is my first time writing something with such a specific kink? I hope you like it, L 🥺💗

“We’ve been married for almost two years already, Doyoung. And never have I heard you speak about doubting getting a baby.”

“Aren’t I allowed to voice out my opinion?” he asked coldly, and at that moment, you completely lost it.

With a bang, you slammed the entrance door to your apartment shut, totally furious. “When we started dating, we talked about this, because that’s what couples do before they vow to commit to each other for a lifetime.”

He hurried into the living room, throwing his jacket into the corner. “Opinions can change, okay?”

“But not in front of our friends during a casual gathering! You can’t just throw me under the bus and flat out tell them you’re unsure about starting a family when I was so excited about it before!” you called out in frustration, stopping him by holding him back by his arm. “No, don’t run away now, this is something serious we have to talk about!”

Giving it all to avoid eye contact with you, Doyoung reluctantly let himself get stopped by you, but you noticed how uncomfortable he had gotten after spinning around. There was much more to your husband’s sudden change of opinion, you just questioned yourself what exactly that could have caused.

“I’m sorry that I made everyone uncomfortable and forced us to go.” His once maddened features had flattened out, his gaze soft and apologetic now. “I just felt under so much pressure when they asked when we plan on having a baby after seeing them with their children. In fact, lately, I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

You bit into your bottom lip, feeling your heartbeat close to your throat now. You were so, so afraid of the answer to this question that could decide over your entire future together. “And to what conclusion did you come?” You swallowed, hard, a cold shudder running down your spine at the same breath. “Don’t you want a family with me anymore?”

“You deserve the family you’ve always wished for.” You finally locked your eyes and saw all the pain and regret in Doyoung’s eyes. “But what if our children will get all of my bad traits? What if I don’t know how to be a good father? What if I will never be able to give them the life they deserve? What if I can never compare to our friends? That’s what I meant.”

You were totally taken aback. “This is what your doubts are about?”

Your husband let out a long sigh and wanted to turn away in annoyance over how you downplayed all his worries, that was how well you knew him. You cut off his way though, got on tip toes and cupped his face.

“Listen to me,” you spoke slowly with a smile on your face. “All your bad personality traits mean nothing as long as you’re a good person. And you are a good person, Doyoung, so every single one of your future children will be too. Nobody is born a parent, and of course we’ll make mistakes along the way, but as long as we’ll raise our children fair and good, and provide them with the best life and with all the unconditional love we can offer, we will be good parents.”

You wished you were able to capture what happened next. The change in Doyoung’s eyes from worry, to doubt, then thinking and finally insight. Then, nothing but love.

“I don’t deserve you,” he finally said, tilting his head and nudging against your warm palm.

“You do.” You let your hand trail down his arm, reaching for his fingers. “Now prove to me how much you deserve me.”

____

“Not like this,” you whispered into Doyoung’s ear and pushed him away from you.

“I wasn’t done yet!”

“You’ve finished already, now it’s my turn.”

He landed on his back, totally naked and with wonder written all over his face, but when you pulled up your skirt and climbed onto his lap, that quickly turned into desire when it dawned on him what you were about to be doing.

“You need a pause before round two?” you mocked jokingly. “A glass of water?”

Your husband let out a laugh and pressed his palms into your sides. “I only need to be inside of you.”

“Okay, one moment.”

You leaned to the side and reached for the nightstand to pull another condom out of the box which would later lie next to the used one from only moments before.

But Doyoung stopped you. “How about we chance it?”

“What?” You looked at him, totally confused.

He smiled and brushed with his fingers over your cheek in an encouraging gesture. “We’ll take our chance.”

“For a baby?”

“For a baby.”

Overwhelming love flooded through your body, and you bent down to him, kissing him passionately while simultaneously raising your hips. Doyoung moaned into your mouth when he nearly effortlessly slipped into you, and you flattened your palms against his chest, starting to move up and down along his length.

Your husband's fingers entangled in your hair, and the way he subconsciously tugged at the strands encouraged you to move even faster. You threw your head back, red marks showing on his skin where the tips of your fingers had grazed.

“Yes, just like this,” Doyoung murmured. “Good idea of you to go on top.”

“Shut up and enjoy,” you chuckled, bending down and kissing him.

You alternated your motions between lifting and slamming down, going forward and back, and sometimes even drawing circles which your husband liked especially much as he let out noises you had only heard on very few occasions before.

Your breasts were bouncing in front of him, and he loved kneading them, giving you double the stimulation. It was especially intense tonight as you had done it without protection only once or twice in your entire relationship, and those times had only been the products of accidents.

Now, you felt him deep inside you without any barrier, all on purpose, and it felt better than ever before. Whether it was real or only all in your imagination because you were finally trying for a baby, you didn’t know. But in the end, it also didn’t matter.

You came so fast like never before with the rhythmic movements of your hips that caused sweat to collect all in your cleavage and forehead, and lured a scream out of you of which you were sure could disrupt all your neighbors’ sleep.

You collapsed on Doyoung’s chest, your own heaving up and down before he clawed your bum so hard, it nearly made you scream out in pain. But you endured it all when you noticed how stiff his body had become, an indicator for the fact that he was close to cumming himself.

“A-are you s-sure?” he still managed to ask before it was too late, stroking the back of your head. “I can still pull… out.”

“I want it,” you breathed. “I want your baby, please.”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he shot his seed all inside of you with a few pumps, and you laid still in his arms, with a content smile on your face.

Shortly later, when you two were cuddling, you were talking about who the child would come after.

“You know what?” Doyoung declared after a while, hugging you close to him so that you felt his heartbeat close to your ear. “The majority of the time, it doesn’t work out at the first go.”

“I know.”

“That means we have to try often.” You heard his voice changing to a sinister tone, and when the tips of his fingers slowly crawled across your skin, you knew what he was up to. “We shouldn’t lose any time.”

#doyoung #kim doyoung #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung smut #doyoung x reader #doyoung x you #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct smut #nct x you #nct x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop x reader #kpop x you #requests

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livwritesstuff · 4 months

Note

Hey! I’m a big fan of your work.

Do you think any of the Harrington girls ever try out dna testing kits? Either to find relatives or just know heritage/potential heath issues. Could be an emotional minefield tbh.

oooh i LOVE this question

short answer is: yes, the girls definitely do dna kits (as should all adoptees but that’s just my opinion, i suppose)

the longer answer is that the girls decide (without any input from their dads, who didn’t even know about this discussion) to wait until all three of them are 18 so that all three of them can get their results at the same time.

steve is perfectly fine with them waiting, not because he has anything against his kids learning about their heritage, but because he’s very much anti-companies collecting/storing his personal info. He won’t join facebook, refuses to get an alexa (he even has siri disabled on his phone), and definitely doesn’t love the idea of a corporation having his dna, so he kind of needed the time to get past the alarm bells going off in his head about his daughters’ safety in that regard.

he does get past it though, and steve and eddie buy the kits as an 18th birthday gift to hazel in september of 2024. eight weeks later, they get the results.

the ancestry composition is interesting, of course, and steve and eddie get at least some relief from the health profiles because that had always been a total mystery to them.

the girls end up learning that they really don't have much extended family on their mom’s side, which isn’t really a surprise — that’s how moe ended up in foster care to begin with — but it still is disappointing given that their mom died when they were little and they all had questions about her that they hoped could get answered someday.

the big surprise is that moe has a different bio-dad from robbie and hazel, which…does not go over well, understandably.

on the whole, it's not exactly a joyous experience, per se, but it never was going to be. kids don't enter the foster system for no reason, and parental rights don’t get terminated for shits and giggles. steve and eddie saw it as their responsibility to be as upfront about the circumstances of their daughters’ adoption as they were allowed to be (and as was age-appropriate), so the girls were prepared for the results being, at a minimum, complicated.

still, the Harrington family vibes are off for a while after they get the results.

#they adjust and end up alright in the end #a couple months later moe texts robbie: i saw something in your results we didn’t notice before #moe: it says you’re 100% a loser #uhhh to be clear most adoptive parents do not handle these topics (and adoption in general) nearly as well #we’re being idealistic here #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson

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k1ngdom-of-thieves · 1 year

Note

Hi there~~! If it's not too troublesome, could I request Trey, Riddle, Kalim and Jamil with a female Chinese s/o who is a great cook because her family owns a traditional Chinese confectionery shop?

I hope this is alright, I don’t know a lot about Chinese confectionery

Trey, Riddle,Kalim, and Jamil + Chinese reader who’s a great cook!

Trey Clover

Trey is always looking for ways to make the Unbirthday parties more exciting, so he’ll definitely be asking you for recipes or advice. It’s always good to get a second opinion, after all!

While you guys are baking, he’ll ask you about your family’s business and compare it to his family’s bakery. He appreciates having someone here that he can relate to.

He’ll let you try some of his treats so you can give him critiques. You usually eat more than you need to because his pastries are really good. I would’ve pulled an Ace and stolen the whole tray.

Your cooking helps motivate him to work harder on his own work. Having his dorm mates prefer someone else’s food isn’t going to do him any favors.

“I need to start upping my game. Riddle would kill me if it turns out people would rather have someone from another dorm be our chef.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle doesn’t know a lot about foods from other parts of the world, so he’ll be greatly interested in whatever you make. Be prepared to answer the questions of a very confused housewarden.

He watches you cook with awe in his eyes. You’re using spices that he’s never thought to combine with such grace that he’s never seen from Trey.

After trying your dishes, he strongly implores you to cook for an Unbirthday party. He’s positive that his dorm mates will love your food as much as he does.

He’ll ask about your family and their shop. He’s lived a pretty sheltered life, so he wants to know how other people families are like.

“Were you allowed to help out with making the confectionery? My apologies for sounding condescending, I’m just very interested in what kind of people your family is.”

Kalim Al Asim

Kalim is always excited to learn more about others, especially if their culture is different from his. He loves to just sit and listen to you talk about your family.

He may not be able to eat your food for a while, you know, the whole almost getting poisoned as a child thing. But he’ll definitely complement the way you cook and how the food looks.

That doesn’t mean he’ll never eat your food though, it just take him a while to do so. You just might have your cooking judged by Jamil first. That sounds terrifying ngl

He might ask you to cook for the dorm sometime. Of course, that’s only if you want to! He understands that being the prefect of Ramshackle might take up most of your time.

“Hey, do you want to come over to our party later? I’m sure everyone would love to try your cooking!”

Jamil Viper

Jamil is fairly new interested in how different your cooking is from his. He likes to see if he can adapt some of your techniques into his cooking.

He gets very interested when you talk about your family and your culture back home. His dream is to travel the world so hearing about how different your life is very interesting to him.

If you feel like it, he would really appreciate if you would come and cook with him. He’d rather have someone that he can trust with him instead of having to keep an eye on both Kalim and the food.

He’d really like to try your food sometime, of course he won’t force you to make anything. He’s lived with Kalim far too long to know how irritating that can be. He just kinda wants to eating food that wasn’t made by him for once.

“Wow, your cooking is like nothing I’ve ever had before. I’m almost positive that you could be a famous chef one day.”

#twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst trey #trey clover x reader #trey clover #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst kalim #kalim al asim x reader #kalim al asim #jamil viper #twst jamil #jamil viper x reader

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lostinwoso · 2 years

Note

you can a fic of a jealous Alexia of how close the reader and her sister alba are.

Jealous? (Alexia x Reader)

A/N: Combined it with this request as well, hope you enjoy!

Coming home, Alexia was hoping for a calm and chill evening together with you, but the moment she stepped into the door and heard yours and her sister's laughter, she knew that this is most likely not going to happen.

Closing the door behind her, she makes her way closer to where the laughter is coming from, standing now in the living room, she sees you two sitting on the couch, laughing at something on Alba's phone.

Realizing that none of you is going to notice her, she decides to make her presence known, "What's so funny?"

Hearing her voice, your head snaps immediately in her direction, a huge smile forming on your face, "Hey!", walking over to her, you pull her into a tight hug.

Accepting your embrace, a smile also appears on Alexia's face, the hug helping her forget the exhausting day she had for a moment.

Pulling back you answer her question, "We were watching funny animal videos.", letting a laugh out at your answer she replies, "Of course you were.", placing a quick kiss on your lips after.

"Hello? I'm also here!" The women behind you speaks up, causing an eye roll from Alexia. "Hello Alba." she greets her sister, moving over to hug her too.

"Alright now that all the greeting is done, can you come back here? I still have some videos I want to show you." the younger Putellas sister says, directed towards you.

"Wanna join us?" You ask your girlfriend. And even though Alexia would much rather spend time alone with you now, she doesn't want to break the bonding time between you two, "Of course.".

Settling back on the couch, you and Alba continue showing each other funny videos, making Alexia feel like a third wheel the entire night.

________

This seems to be happening more often, every time Alba was around, Alexia would become the third wheel, at least in Alexia her opinion.

Right now she was waiting for you to come back home, you told her earlier this morning that you would be out with Alba and Eli while Alexia had some things to take care off.

Feeling her phone vibrate, she sees a notification from Instagram announcing that you just posted a picture, opening the notification she is faced by a picture of you and Alba, the caption holding a simple heart emoji.

"Really?" she quietly mutters to herself before throwing her phone on the empty space of the couch right next to her. She hates the feeling of jealousy blooming inside of her.

Hearing the door opening and your voice calling out a, "Helloo?", she can't stop the smile forming on her face, the feeling of jealousy from before almost all gone.

"In the living room!", she calls out to you, seeing you enter the living room just moments later. The smile she wore before slightly turning into a grimace, when she notices you wearing one of her sisters jackets.

"Hey, how was your day?" You ask her, while taking off said jacket and throwing it over the side of the couch, before sitting down next to her, placing a kiss on her head.

"Good.", is all she offers, confused by her short answer and rather cold tone, you lean back a bit to take a look at her, "That's all? Usually you are a bit more talk active." you wonder.

"Yes, just good. How was your day? Had fun out with your girlfriend?", The words leaving her lips faster than she can even recognize what she was about to say.

Stunned, you think about her words for a second, before you realize what she could mean, "My girlfriend? Love, are you jealous of your sister?" you say, trying not to laugh at the blush that's taking over her face.

"You are spending more time with her than me!" your girlfriend explains, rather embarrassed about having to admit that she is jealous of her sister being close with you.

Pulling your embarrassed girlfriend into you, you start laughing, "Mi amor, there is nothing to be jealous about, you will always be my favorite Putellas." you tell her.

Hearing a quiet mumbled, "I hope so." you start laughing once more at your girlfriend.

"Can you please stop laughing at me now?"

"Not yet."

________

Eli invited Alba, Alexia and you to a dinner at her place, due to you having to do some work related stuff, you tell Alexia to go ahead and that you meet her at her mom's place.

After Alexia rings the doorbell, it takes a few seconds before the door is being pulled open and a grinning Alba stand in the doorway, "Hey!".

"Hey Alba.", she greets back her sister, while pulling her into a quick hug and making her way inside.

Closing the door, Alba turns around to her sister, a confused look and teasing grin forming on her face, "Where is my girlfriend?".

"Really, she told you?", Alexia asks annoyed.

"We are best friends, what did you expect.", Alba on the other hand enjoys the situation and being able to tease her sister.

"I hate you." Alexia mutters out, leaving to search for their mother right after, trying to ignore Alba's laugh.

________

When you arrived, Alba did her best to annoy her sister at any given moment. Asking you things like, where you should spend the next date at or where the next couple vacation should go to.

At first, you thought it was funny, but after a while you could see it really affecting Alexia, the older women getting more and more quiet after every tease from her sister.

So when Alexia left the table to help her mom for a moment, you turn to the younger Putellas, "Alright, I think that's enough teasing for today."

"I know, it was fun tho." she replies, throwing a wink your way.

Alexia, who came back into the room and saw the wink, marches over to you, pulling you into a bruising kiss.

Giving in to the kiss, you only part when the voice next to you two speaks up, "That was disgusting. I need to wash my eyes after this, thank you very much." a clearly disgusted look visible on your best friend's face, her leaving the room right after, pretending to run to the bathroom.

"Drama queen." you mutter to your girlfriend, "Are you really surprised?", "I guess not.".

"I'm sorry for telling her, I didn't expect her to tease you that bad. But you are kinda cute when jealous", you tell her, feeling bad for causing the teasing going too far.

Rolling her eyes, Alexia let's out a smile, "It's okay, I'm making sure she isn't going to tease me anytime soon again. Plus, the kiss was proof enough for me that I have no reason to be jealous anymore.", throwing a wink to you after finishing speaking.

"Mhm, want another one, just to really make sure?"

Instead of receiving an answer, Alexia, pulls you closer to her but before you two can lean in completely, a voice puts a stop to that.

"Not in my living room!", Pulling apart, clearly embarrassed, you both see Eli standing there, with her hands on her hips and a pointed look on her face.

Deciding she enjoyed your two embarrassed looks enough, she starts smiling, "Alright, who wants desert now?".

#alexia putellas imagines #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso imagine #espwnt x reader

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voyeur-clairvoyant · 3 months

Note

hey there! I'm not sure whether this has been asked before or not, but I thought I might give it a try nonetheless.

what are the main differences between the TdM system and the RWS one, if there are any, in your opinion?

I'm looking forward to writing a blog about it, so I'm trying to gather as much information from as many people as possible. thanks beforehand!

Hi there! Thank you for asking and GOD I hope I'm late because I've been thinking non-stoping about this for the last days just to give you a complete answer. You have no idea how happy I'm to contribute with some firewood to the good ol' war between decks hashahsa.

For me, the biggest difference between both decks and schools of thought is that the RWS Tarot can BARELY be considered a tarot deck (and this is not necessarily a bad thing).

It's a "tarot" in the same way that Taco Bell's "tacos" are tacos. Technically they are and I can't say anything about it but when you compare them with authentic tacos you realize there are enormous issues in their construction, their ingredients, their history and the culture around them.

They are perfectly """edible""".

Now, I'm the first to admit it, Pamela and Arthur's deck changed not only cartomancy but the perception of the entire world around it. Pamela's exquisite artistry and innovative idea of illustrating the minor arcana made it BY FAR the most important tarot deck of all times. HONOR TO WHOM HONOR IS DUE. And as cartomants we owe respect to the deck (and its creators) for literally bringing cartomancy into modernity. It is directly responsible for the fact that we are discussing this topic today and for all the extraordinary artistic madness of hundreds and hundreds of new decks that are printed and designed.

HOWEVER. The deck has HUGE and unacceptable errors that split the modern study of tarot into two and a thousand pieces, but I have to give their case justice. Arthur Edward Waite and Pamela Colman Smith were members of the Golden Dawn and their plan was to create a tarot deck with the ritual, sacred and symbolic associations of the order.

Is it their fault that their niche deck escaped containment? Of course not. We are used to working with luck, it is our territory, so it's no surprise that the mass popularization of tarot (and this deck in particular) came with an equally destructive counterpart. I can't blame them, Geek culture (and fandom in general) has to live every day with the Horrors and Pleasures of seeing their niche content, intended for a few, be dismembered and multiplied in the hyper-globalized sphere of "normie" culture.

I'm in several tarot groups on Facebook and the question every day is: What is the best deck for beginners? And the truth is that I don't know what to answer.

I have read with both systems and right now, my little TdM is my tool par excellence. I admit that the "dry" art of the minor arcana and the deck in general is an acquired taste. There are such beautiful and impressive decks out there that I completely understand why not many decide to stick with the tarot world's equivalent of vanilla triple condom missionary sex (although this is an aesthetic issue that is being called into question with new decks).

What I don't understand is the conception that the Marseille tarot is more complicated than the RWS!

If the TdM school is characterized (or could be characterized, I curse you Jodorowsky!) by austerity and lack of expressiveness, the RWS school is characterized by paranoia and the pseudo-complexity of symbols and structures.

By "paranoia" I mean the obssesive search for hidden meanings or mystical secrets and messages. Usually where there are none.

Reading with an RWS deck for the first time is a horrible experience and we are very much to blame for scaring away beginner readers. Assuming that you have survived the countless myths that all decks carry (it must be a gift, it's satanic, don't read on Sunday) you realize that you don't know how to read it. Each of the 78 cards has a different scene and all of them are full of symbols. What do the pomegranates on the High Priestess' veil mean? What the fuck is a High Priestess? Why do some cards have names and others don't??? It is an aggressive sea of information that ends up drowning anyone.

But that is not all! Now comes the plot twist and it turns out that not only you have to learn 78 meanings (in equally confusing websites or books) but that each card has a different meaning in reverse. 156 cards in total, each with a series of extensive meanings for love, family, work, money, health, etc. And as if that weren't enough, the spreads look like this:

Where each of the positions has an extra layer of meaning. This is not a specific problem of the RWS but we have long since passed that point, we only have to manage the disaster that its globalization carried.

The big problem with RWS and its school of thought is that in the process of making a more intuitive tool, it became a creature that feeds on the paranoia of its readers. It is an excellent deck to spread on the table and read lightly: The faces and situation of the characters are clear, the art is friendly and reading is easy. A 10 of swords is an obvious image of failure and pain, the 3 of cups inspires joy and suggests party and friends. It is a tool that fuses the allegorical advantages of a classic tarot deck with the everyday fluidity of a sibyl or an oracle. It has nothing to envy an Italian Sibyl or a Kipper deck.

It is human, intuitive and beautiful.

The problem comes when we want to extract more of it. Being a ritual deck, it is impregnated from top to bottom with numerological, astrological, Hebrew, Egyptian, etc. associations of magic and occultism derived from the not very convincing knowledge of the GOLDEN DAWN. It was not intended to be a deck for common and mundane divination use.

The average casual cartomancer knows the meanings of the cards because they read them on a website (and hopefully in a book/video). Most people don't know who Pixie or Arthur Waite is and probably haven't read any of their original texts. What's worse, there's a good chance you're not a member of the Golden Dawn and you also don't know that previous decks exist. All those symbols and associations that served an original purpose become a mental burden when reading with it.

What good does it do me to know that the coins in the 10 of coins represent the Tree of Life or that the Magician transfers the energies of the High to the Low, alluding to one of the magical premises of the Tabula Smaragdina ("As above, so below") when what I want to know IS IF MY EX WOULD GET BACK TO ME???

A lot of information but useless information. And that's still the best case scenario. At worst…

The incomplete fusion of poorly understood mystical allusions, an intuitive deck loosely anchored in classical cartomancy and the whitewashed psychology of the New Age in search of alternative therapies gave birth to a monster: EVOLUTIONARY TAROT. (But that's another story. The evolutionary tarot isn't really bad in its conception, but the road to Hell is paved in good intentions ahhasha. I have already a post about it).

If the RWS school got rid of the complicated spreads, the reversed cards, the useless lists of meanings, the obsession with symbols and FOCUSED on Pixie's illustrations and read Arthur's original texts it would be easier to use its tool without losing their marbles in the process, but that is going against the current and not analyzing the existing reality.

By illustrating the minor arcana, the deck became more friendly but in exchange it lost the hierarchy of the major arcana. In the image there are 3 major and 3 minor arcana, but visually they have the same weight and therefore, the same relevance when this SHOULD NOT HAPPEN. The Sun cannot be on the same level as a 10 of Swords no matter how bloody the card is.

Another situation: Let's focus on the Wheel card. I already made a post about it that you can find on my blog, but in summary there is a HUGE difference between this arcane in the RWS and the TdM. Which is saying a lot when the TdM's Wheel is itself extremely defective.

If the RWS tarot does not respect the hierarchy of the arcana, many of them are "badly" represented, or at least incomplete without the contribution of Arthur and the Golden Dawn, it does not have a divinatory purpose and illustrates its minor arcana based on external sources such as Etteilla, numerology, astrology, etc… CAN WE CONTINUE CONSIDERING IT A TAROT?

I suspect not and this is not a bad thing. On the contrary, it has an extraordinary place as a multipurpose oracle that could be developed more freely without the pretension of wanting to be (without actually being) a tarot deck.

And yet, the Marseille tarot is the one that has the reputation of being MOST COMPLICATED!!!???

As I said before, honor to whom honor is due and therefore, dishonor to whom dishonor is deserved ahsahsa. Alejandro Jodorowsky did an enormous job to popularize the TdM deck but he missed a VERY SMALL detail like other important tarot figures such as Papus and Eliphas Levi:

The PARANOIA.

I love you friends, but if I hear someone say again that the Tarot of Marseille holds mystical secrets in its geometry, I'm gonna kill someone ahsahsa. ENOUGH, for mercy's sake! Many beginners infected with the mystical paranoia of the RWS come to the classic decks with the same perception of hermetic and conspiratorial symbology, which is fueled by the LITERAL search for easter eggs and hidden meanings popularized by the aforementioned characters. Sometimes two cups are TWO CUPS and 3 swords are THREE SWORDS. There are no secret codes involved but who seeks finds and sooner or later you will end up paying more attention to the leaves on the decorations or the color of the shoes than to the FUCKING CARD ITSELF.

This manifests, for example, in another of the major problems that both systems share:

CUPS ≠ WATER WANDS/BATONS ≠ FIRE COINS ≠ EARTH SWORDS ≠ AIR

REPEAT AFTER ME: SUITS ARE NOT ELEMENTS.

Many readers tend to automatically replace the objects in the cards with the later elemental associations. When we see 6 swords in a classic deck, we are not talking about air, MUCH LESS about the meaning that Etteilla or Arthur Waite gave to the card. 6 swords are more swords than you want your enemy to have and since they are swords and not AIR, their function is simply to cause you a lot of damage and pain. Bad omen.

THERE IS NO MYSTERY.

We can add another layer of information, helped by numerology and adjacent cards, but we must never lose sight of the SUPERIOR hierarchy of this obvious and clear message in favor of DETAILS such as the ornaments and the distribution of the swords on the card.

The biggest danger of the RWS system is being overloaded with useless information and ridiculously complicated systems. The biggest danger of the TdM system is not seeing the MESSAGE by focusing too much on absurd details.

The Marseille tarot has MANY flaws as it is a poor copy of Italian decks. Curiously, its situation is almost identical to that of the RWS. By reaching a globalized impression in Europe, the forgivable mistakes of a niche deck spread far and wide. Even so, it preserves the characteristic simplicity of classic decks: You can perfectly distinguish a major arcana from the rest and give it the place it deserves in a reading. The allegories have errors but they maintain a clear and understandable representation for the most part (I also have a post about it).

Many TdM readers do not use inverted cards and free reading on tableaus and strings are the favorite. If we ignore the symbolic paranoia of various authors, focus on the cards in front of us and their allegorical meanings, we have a VERY EASY TO READ tool. It is not as comfortable or friendly as a RWS but it is definitely more free and concrete. Less noise, less chaos. Straight to the point.

I'm not going to lie to you either, anyone who has used a TdM knows that no matter how skilled the reader is, the deck cannot be compared to a sibilla or the RWS when the topic is everyday and mundane divination. It is a dry, direct deck, but little theatrical or gossipy compared to other decks. In the same way, if we ask a sibyl complex and imaginative questions we will have the same result as if we asked the vegetable seller at the market.

Much of the debate comes down to knowing what your need is and your appropriate tool.

In conclusion:

I think the RWS system is unnecessarily complicated, which undermines its great advantage: Being able to read the deck intuitively without having to study it. I think that if it completely abandoned its desire to be a tarot and became an independent deck of illustrations, it would be an exquisite oracle.

The TdM is not the sharpest knife in the arsenal of classic decks, but it is a very easy tarot deck to learn and use if we ignore the symbolic paranoia and limiting meanings of some authors. It is (like all classic decks) a deck with the limitations of tarot, so instead of forcing it to answer all the questions, sometimes it is better to know when to use another oracle.

#divination #witchcraft #tarot #fortune telling #cartomancy #tarot cards #witchblr #tarotblr #baby witch

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fleur-de-violette · 3 months

Text

Robins, titmice, and other spring birds

AO3

Summary:

There are a lot of things Jason doesn’t understand in the dynamic of the Wayne manor, despite being here for nine months. Maybe a rescue turning a little more dangerous than it should have been for Robin will help him see things clearly? Prompt: Adoption

Note:

Hey! Second bingo fic! So just to be clear, this is set in an alternate universe where Jason was taken in by Bruce before Dick stopped being Robin. Warning for (magical) hypothermia, grief, and near-death experience. I hope you’ll enjoy the story. Many thanks to @ohmytoddhewitt for beta reading !

There are things within the Wayne Manor family dynamics that Jason still has a hard time grasping, despite having lived there for about nine months now.

Dick and Bruce’s relationship is one of them. The two of them could look like a typical teenager and adult relationship at first glance (not that Jason knows much about typical teenager and adult relationships), but there is something more.

They are Batman and Robin, for starters. The news had taken him aback. When Batman had brought him to the cave after that weird night that changed his life, and had removed his cowl, Bruce Wayne had been the very last person Jason expected to find under it.

So, they are Batman and Robin. Heroes of Gotham. And yet, out of masks - sometimes even in masks when no one is looking - they act like a teenager and his parent.

Jason will also, one day, become a hero of Gotham. He had started training as soon as he had regained enough weight to do exercise. Maybe he will be Robin. Maybe he will be something else. But he could stay. In the manor.

Bruce had presented him with the adoption papers about a month ago. Something to link them permanently, to make him his son. Jason still doesn’t know how to feel about that. When he had tried to talk about it with Dick, the older teen had made a weird face and deflected the conversation.

But Jason doesn’t feel as if Dick doesn’t want to be his brother. Despite his rocky relationship with Bruce, he’s always nice and friendly with Jason. He just doesn’t understand why he’s been so dismissive of the adoption thing.

“The fast-food place in front of the academy is looking for staff,” Dick says carefully, pulling Jason from his thoughts as they eat dinner.

Bruce makes a sound, not a word, and that’s also something Jason has learned to get used to. How Bruce rarely responds with actual words.

Dick doesn’t seem to mind. “I was thinking of applying.”

Alfred gives him a disapproving look. His opinion on fast food is a secret to no one.

“Why?” Bruce asks, and that’s a word, but a lone one, straight to the point. Jason is kind of asking himself the same question.

“I was just thinking it was more than time I started making my own money, that’s all.”

Bruce let out a long sigh that makes Jason think maybe it isn’t the first time they have had this conversation.

“You already have enough things to do with your studies and our nightly activities. If you want to buy something, you can ask Alfred or myself for money. You know we have enough in this household.”

And that’s final. Dick doesn’t bother fighting, just goes back to his meal. Alfred tries to keep the conversation going by asking Jason questions about school, and Jason is happy to indulge.

He had started school in September, two months after meeting Bruce. While he was a bit of a late bloomer compared to his classmates in the beginning, he’s been catching up to them during the last few months. Barbara, Dick, and of course Alfred have helped him with homework when he struggled. By now, he was the first to answer in science class more often than not, and his English teacher had complimented him on his poems.

Alfred asks the same things to Dick. Jason knows he has a big math test tomorrow afternoon, something he studied a lot for in the last few weeks. But he just skims past it, not letting show the importance Jason knows the test has for him.

Jason can guess why. Test or not, Robin is needed tonight, and Jason can understand that Dick would hate being benched over something as silly as needing rest for a test. Especially since Jason had heard the night before that the Riddler had escaped and was planning something. He knew he wouldn’t want to miss a fight with the Riddler if he was Robin.

But he isn’t, not yet; he needs more training first. So, as soon as the dinner is finished, he jumps in the cave and puts on the training costume Alfred had made him. He wishes Batman and Robin good luck, and Dick ruffles his hair in a way that annoys Jason as much as it makes him feel all warm before jumping into the Batmobile.

A few hours in, and Jason wonders how long Dick trained for before being allowed to go out. Surely, he will be able to fly in the streets of Gotham with them soon. He isn’t a trained acrobat, but he handles himself well, he thinks, smiling as a Batarang falls right into the center of the target.

But then, there is the issue of the hero’s name. Batman had said maybe he could be Robin, but then there would be two Robins, and that would be confusing. He needs another name. Something close to Robin, but not Robin. How about Red Robin? He likes Red, but that’s the name of a burger place, so huge no. Dick calls him Little Wing, something that annoys Jason, but maybe he could make something out of it. He would be the Wings of the Night or something, and… no, that’s ridiculous.

Maybe he should pick a totally different bird name? The Eagle - but no, that’s a rock band. Or The Falcon maybe? It does have more style than Robin. But also, Dick had explained to him that the name isn’t meant to scare people, or inspire respect, but to bring hope, to symbolize spring and colors.

Well, he can say anything he wants, Jason isn’t calling himself Titmouse.

“Master Jason, don’t you think it’s time to go to bed?” Alfred interrupts him, standing behind the training mats. This is something that took Jason some time getting used to, too. Being called “Master”; he told Alfred he could just call him Jason, but the butler firmly refused.

“I would like to wait until they are back,” Jason says. He knows the idea of Bruce and Dick fighting the Riddler will prevent him from sleeping, anyway.

Alfred gives him a frozen smile, the face he makes then things aren’t going the way he wants them to, but he has to accept them anyway. “Very well,” he says. “But I do not want to hear you complain tomorrow morning when you’ll have to get up to go to school.”

Jason gives him his brightest smile. “I won’t complain. Promise. Thank you, Alfred.”

He keeps training for a bit after that, but they don’t have to wait long before they can hear the familiar roar of the Batmobile engine. And just as the car stops, Jason can feel the tension bleeding from it. Bad night, then.

“What do you want from me?” Dick asks as he steps out, soaking wet with a mixture of water and something that glows pale blue in the artificial light of the cave. “That I apologize for saving those girls? I won’t.”

“It was reckless; you could have drowned, and them with you,” Bruce replies in the same tone.

“But I didn’t! You will have to understand one day that I’m not eight anymore, and-”

“Here, Master Dick,” Alfred interrupts, giving him a towel. “It is quite cold in the cave.” He doesn’t say that it’s quite cold outside of it, too, but everyone is thinking it. “And Master Bruce, why don’t you go change while I take care of warming him up.”

His eyes are like daggers, and Bruce doesn’t talk back, even though Jason feels that he wants to. He just walks toward the changing rooms. When he passes next to Jason, he looks at him for a second before saying, “Jason. You should be in bed.”

He sounds tired, but Jason still has one more thing to do before going to bed. He runs quickly to where Dick and Alfred are and asks, “Are you really ok? Is there something I can do?”

“Nothing beside getting yourself to bed,” Alfred replies. “I’ll just make sure Master Dick here is not hypothermic or poisoned.”

Dick gives him a smile that Robin gives to citizens. It’s bright, reassuring, and fake. “I’m ok, Little Wing. See you tomorrow morning.”

So, with nothing better to do, Jason goes to his room, showers, changes, and goes to bed. Despite thinking that worry will keep him awake, he’s out cold before he can think more about the night.

He doesn’t complain the next morning when Alfred wakes him up. He wants to, but he doesn’t. He promised, after all.

Instead, he gets himself dressed and goes down to get breakfast. Dick is already at the table when he comes in. “Good morning,” he says as Jason sits down, and his voice cracks a little on the words.

“What happened to your voice?” Jason asks as he takes some tea and a piece of toast, thanking Alfred.

“I slept with my hair wet yesterday. It’s nothing. It will pass.”

Jason hums. The manor is warmer than some of the places he lived in, but it’s still old and there is only so much isulation work one can do on a stone structure. It can get cold on February nights.

Alfred looks like he wants to say something more, maybe a comment on how this wouldn’t happen if Dick had shorter hair. It goes down his neck, nearing his shoulders now, and he stubbornly refuses to cut it. This has been one more cause of disagreement in the manor.

But he refrains from saying anything, and just drives them to the school without a word.

Jason goes through his morning classes as usual, trying not to fall asleep during the boring parts of the lessons. It’s only when he’s at his locker to get his lunch that everything goes wrong.

“Hey, street rat!”

He turns to see Augustus Wright. He sighs. Turns out there’s only so much anti-bullying presentations can do, and so much here means nothing. The boy is in his grade, a bit tall for his age, and had chosen him as his victim since the beginning of the school year.

“What do you want?” he asks sharply. He doesn’t call him “September” like he did last time, because he’d rather not get punched in the face again.

“Do you know what my father says about you?”

Jason doesn’t look at him, and focuses on getting his lunch out of the locker instead. “I don’t know, and I don’t care. Your father is an idiot who has an addiction to bad financial investments.” Or at least that’s what Bruce says. But he has the feeling the comment will not help him in his quest of not getting punched in the face.

As expected, Augustus’ hand flies toward him. But he doesn’t hit Jason, like he had expected him to. Instead, he hits the lunch box, and to Jason’s dismay, it flies out of his hands and falls down on the floor, the content of Alfred’s carefully prepared food spilling everywhere.

This is spoiled food. The one thing Jason can’t stand.

He clenches his fist. Bruce might be angry at him later, but that won’t stop him. That kid is going to regret it.

“What’s going on here?”

Jason turns toward the sounds, only to see Dick leaning nonchalantly on the lockers. His voice is deeper and lower than usual, so much that Jason barely recognizes it. It makes him look even more impressive, cold and collected.

Augustus seems a bit scared, which makes Jason smile. He might be taller than Jason, but Dick is taller and stronger than both of them. “You’re not supposed to be outside the high school building,” the bully says.

“Yeah?” Dick asks. “And what do you want to do? Call someone? And then you can explain why my-” his voice cracks a little - “little brother’s lunch is on the floor?”

Augustus looks like he wants to sink into the floor. “He’s not your real brother anyway. My father will hear about this!”

Dick tilts his head. “So he can talk about it with Bruce? I would like to see that.” He takes Jason’s arm. “We’re leaving,” he says, and they walk a little before conveniently running into the school janitor, who is talking with the superintendent. Did Dick plan that? “Excuse me, sirs?” he says, “Augustus seems to have made a mess in the corridor, would it be possible to help him find the materials required to clean it up?”

He gives them his best smile, the one that gets people doing whatever he wants, and with that, they’re gone. Because he has that kind of power, the superintendent doesn’t even question why he was in the middle school building.

“I had it handled,” Jason says when they’re out of hearing range, in a small corridor that runs between the two buildings.

“What, you were gonna beat up that kid?”

Jason doesn’t answer that.

“Jay, you know why Bruce trains us. It’s not for-” he coughs in his hand when his voice cracks again, and starts over. “It’s not for this.”

“He tossed my lunch to the ground,” Jason objects.

“I know,” Dick says as they sit down. “Do you want mine?”

“What about you?”

“I’m not that hungry,” Dick replies, handing him his lunch box. Jason opens it and splits the food in two, but true to his word, Dick barely eats his share.

“What, is the math stuff stressing you out that much?”

Dick shrugs. “Maybe,” he says. Jason doesn’t understand why it would be. Dick had always been excellent at math; he and Barbara have helped him more than once and Jason knows for a fact that Dick can do college level problems without struggling. He’s always at the top of his classes, if not the top of the school. The only thing he can maybe be worried about is being the second best and not the best, which seems like overkill.

Unless he’s aiming for a scholarship, like the one Barbara has. But that makes no sense. While the Gordons aren’t exactly poor, having her studies fully funded because she was at the top of the school in several subjects still makes things way easier for them. But he doesn’t get why Dick would need it: Bruce would gladly pay for whatever college Dick wants to go to.

“Or maybe you’re actually getting sick,” Jason says. “What even happened last night?”

Dick sighs and looks around to make sure no one can hear them; his voice barely audible, he says “Riddler had two girls in glass containers under a pool of some sort. There was something in the water, a chemical we think he got from Freeze - we still don’t know how. Anyway, a powder was slowly falling into a bowl that would pour it into the water once full. Then the two products would react, and the water would freeze, breaking the glass container with the increased pressure and killing or at least badly injuring the girls. B wouldn’t have solved the riddle in time. There was only a small opening on the pool, just for the powder to go in, Batman couldn’t fit; but I could. And so could the girls once I freed them.”

Jason doesn’t miss a word. “That is so cool,” he says.

“Well, B didn’t seem to think so. But yeah, I stand by my choices.” He coughs into his fist again. “Even if if I do end up being sick, B will never let me hear the end of it.”

Jason smiles a little at that. There is something nagging in the back of his mind - how easily a cold could turn into something worse when he was on the streets - but he doesn’t say it. Dick is talking about this so nonchalantly, he guesses this is how things happen in Wayne Manor: you get sick, you rest for a few days, and that’s it.

Dick looks at his phone and says, “Well, time for me to go, I guess. I need to do some last minute studying.”

Jason sighs. “What do you still have to learn? And what about your food?”

“Keep it,” Dick says. And with that, he’s gone.

Jason is in the middle of his biology class when he opens his phone under the desk to see two missed calls from Bruce.

“What’s going on?” he texts back. “I can’t answer a call, I’m in class.”

He immediately sees Bruce typing back, “Have you seen Dick?”

“Just about one hour ago, at lunch. Why?”

“Find him and get him back to the manor. Alfred is on his way to pick you up.”

No more information than that. But, given what Bruce and Dick do, this might be a life or death situation. Jason raises his hand.

“Excuse me,” he says. “I don’t feel well, could I go to the infirmary?”

The teacher gives him a suspicious look before saying. “Of course. Joshua, go walk him.”

When he leaves, he hears Augustus laugh a little, but that is the last thing on his mind. Joshua is a small kid with round glasses. He’s friendly to Jason because Jason took his place as Augustus’ favorite target. He’s been less friendly to him since Jason’s grades have started to threaten to take his place as best student in the class. But right now, he’s content with just walking with him in silence to the infirmary.

For a second, Jason thinks he could run. Joshua has asthma, he would never catch up to him. But then, how would he explain that? People would be looking for him, and that would be a mess. No, he has to be more subtle. He waits until they reach the infirmary and Joshua goes back to class. Then, he politely asks the nurse if he could rest a bit in one of the beds. Again, he gets a suspicious look for his trouble, but he lets him lay on a bed.

He waits a little, just long enough so he can see the nurse on his phone, not paying attention to him, before getting up and silently making his way out of the infirmary. Step one of his plan is a success.

Jason walks into the high school building, fast and silent. He moves into another corridor whenever he hears someone coming his way. He knows which room Dick is supposed to be taking his math test in as of now. If he’s not here after all he said about this, Jason is going to kick his ass.

But, thankfully, Dick is in the room when Jason looks through the window. He’s focused on the sheet in front of him. When he sees him raise his head, Jason makes huge signs through the window. He distinctly sees Dick mouth, “What the fuck?” before the older teen gets up, says something to the teacher, and leaves the room.

“This had better be important,” he says as soon as he sees Jason. If anything, his voice is worse than it was in the morning.

“I guess it is, or else Bruce wouldn’t have asked me to come get you. Alfred is waiting for us outside. Come on, let’s go.”

He takes Dick’s wrist to lead him out of the school, and is immediately taken aback by the fact that there seems to be is no heat radiating off his skin.

“You’re cold!” he exclaims.

“What can I say? It’s cold out. We’re not here to talk about my shitty circulation,” Dick replies, twisting his wrist out of Jason’s hand as he walks next to him.

“Alfred,” Dick says as soon as they see the butler outside. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know anymore than you do,” Alfred replies. “I got a call from Master Bruce asking me to come and pick you up while he was getting back to the manor by his own means. Are you quite alright, Master Dick? You look-”

“I’m fine, Alfred,” Dick says as he sits in the back seat. Jason takes it as his clue to sit in the front, next to Alfred.

The short drive from the school to the manor is silent. When he looks in the rear-view mirror, Jason can see Dick has his arms around himself, and his eyes closed. He must be really upset at the interruption of his test. Not that Jason can blame him, but he’s sure Bruce has a good reason to call them back.

“What is this about?” Dick asks as soon as they walk in the manor. From where he’s standing behind him, Jason can see his shoulders shaking with rage.

“The two girls you saved yesterday were hospitalized this morning. We think the compounds all three of you have been in contact with is the cause.”

Whatever Jason had been expecting, that wasn’t it. Apparently, the same goes for Dick because he just croaks, “What?”

“Apparently, it can be absorbed into the skin, slowly decreasing the body’s temperature. Have you felt any symptoms that make you think of that?”

Jason holds a breath. Dick’s wrist had been cold to the touch, earlier. And he’s not shaking with rage, Jason realizes. He’s shivering.

“I… I guess I’ve been cold, but nothing-” his voice breaks toward the end of the sentence and he coughs loudly.

“Dick,” Bruce asks slowly. “Did you swallow some of that water?”

Dick nods, his eyes toward the floor. “Just after saving the second girl, there wasn’t time to get both of us out before my air ran out. But I didn’t drown. I spat that water out almost immediately.”

There is a second of silence, where Jason thinks maybe Bruce is going to yell, before Dick asks in a very small voice, “These girls… they are in the hospital because of me, no need to sugarcoat it. Are they going to be okay?”

“They will,” Batman, not Bruce, says as he takes Dick’s arm. “And so will you.”

Jason follows them anxiously to the living room, where Alfred is already waiting for them. Jason hadn’t even realized he left. “I saw your instructions regarding the care currently given to the two young ladies. There is nothing being done for them at Gotham General that we can’t do here,” he says to Bruce.

Sure enough, the couch has several blankets and heat packs, and Jason can hear tea being made in the kitchen. There is also an IV pole.

“Isn’t that overkill?” Dick asks. “I told you, I feel cold, but nothing too bad, I can-”

“The girls are physically smaller than you, but you were exposed for longer, not to mention you had some of the product in your throat,” says Bruce, not leaving room for protest.

“We just don’t want severe hypothermia to set in,” Alfred explains gently. “It’s better to start administering warm fluids now than to take any risks.”

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh as he falls onto the couch, pushing his sleeve up and presenting his arm, a silent agreement to the IV. Alfred gets to work; without any other word, Bruce leaves the room.

Once they’re both gone, Jason slowly moves next to Dick on the couch. The older teen is still shivering, but he’s stubbornly on top of the covers.

“I’m sorry about the math test. I know it was important to you,” Jason says tentatively.

Dick doesn’t reply, just gives him a look. “If it helps,” Jason continues, “you’ve been having great grades all year and you will continue to do so. I’m sure this won’t stop you from getting the scholarship if that’s what you’re after.”

Dick blinks. “Thanks, Little Wing,” he says slowly. “It was stupid anyway.”

He doesn’t elaborate more than that.

After a while, Jason asks, “Do you want to watch TV or something?”

“You don’t have to stay,” is the answer he gets for his troubles.

“Yeah, but I want to. And we’re watching something,” Jason decides, taking the remote and turning on a crime show. When he turns back to Dick a few episodes in, he finds him completely rolled in the blankets and still shivering, cold apparently having won over stubbornness.

“I’m okay,” Dick tells him, his voice not much more than an airy murmur. “Stop looking at me like that.”

Jason quickly looks away, unaware he was looking at him in a certain way.

“I don’t-” Dick coughs. “I don’t regret it. We don’t know what would have happened if I hadn’t saved them,” he says.

Jason doesn’t say anything to that. “I hope they will be okay,” Dick adds.

Jason nods. “Yeah.” He doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like Dick who is cool and who saves him from bullies and who is Robin being reduced to a shivering mess, curled up under the covers despite the fact that the heat packs are enough to make Jason hot from the other side of the couch.

There is a knock on the door – a useless measure, the door is always open – and Bruce comes in, something in his hands.

“Alfred made soup,” he says, carefully. “If you want some.”

Dick doesn’t move from where he’s buried under the covers, doesn’t look at Bruce. “I’m not really hungry,” he says through chattering teeth. And when Bruce doesn’t seem satisfied with that, he adds, “I ate well for lunch.”

“No, you didn’t,” Jason interrupts.

If looks could kill, the one that Dick shoots him would have sent him straight to the grave.

Bruce puts the bowl on the coffee table and squats down. “I know you’re not hungry. But your body is fighting an unknown, and you have to get all the strength and warmth you can have. Can you at least try?”

Dick still doesn’t look at him. “I don’t think I can eat,” he says.

Bruce tilts his head. “Nausea?”

Dick shakes his head. “No, I…” he gets one of his hands from below the blanket. His shaking fingers are pale and barely twitch. “I don’t think I can eat,” he repeats before pulling his hand back under the covers.

Bruce’s expression breaks in a way Jason hadn’t seen before. It’s not pity, or even worry, though there is some worry in there. It’s just utter sadness. “Chum-” he starts.

“I can help,” Jason interrupts again. “I can help you. I won’t make it awkward. I promise.”

He did it several times with his mother, when she couldn’t lift her hands or was shaking too much to hold a spoon. “I can help,” he repeats. He’s been feeling so useless since this whole thing started. He can do this.

“Ok,” Bruce says slowly. “Ok, Jaylad, I trust you.” And with that, he’s gone. He’s not good with seeing someone in pain or weakened. Jason had noticed how Bruce wouldn’t look at him when he removed his shirt for medical exams, in the weeks after he’d been brought to the manor.

Jason sits on the table and takes the soup in his hands. “Okay,” he says. “How do you want to do it?”

Dick closes his eyes slowly. “You don’t have to do this,” he says.

“I kinda do. Since you can’t hold the spoon.” When he sees Dick’s face, he adds, “I’m not judging you, or seeing you any differently because of this. I just want this dinner to happen the best way possible for both of us.”

Dick opens his eyes. “You’re right. We can do this like you want.”

Jason nods. He slowly puts a bit of soup in the spoon and moves it toward Dick’s face, making sure the oldest sees all his movements. When he reaches his mouth, he makes sure to be as gentle as possible. Dick, to his relief, doesn’t say anything and just lets him feed him. It’s only when the soup is about half finished that he mutters, “Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.”

“Thank you, then.”

“Yeah, that you can say.”

“Thank you, Jason. You’re a good kid.”

You’re a good kid. How many times had he heard this from his mother? Thank you, Jason, you’re a good kid. I don’t deserve you, Jason. I’m sorry, Jason.

He would never hear it again. He would never feed her like this and, as terrible as it was, he finds himself wishing he could. He wants to forget about that one morning where he woke up to find her cold, colder than Dick currently is, and pretends he’s still taking care of her.

An icy cold finger gently goes to wipe his face, removing a tear he didn’t know was there.

“What’s going on, Little Wing?”

Jason wipes his eyes quickly. He’s the one who should be taking care of Dick, not the other way around. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Dick tilts his head, keeping his mouth stubbornly shut when Jason tries to feed him more soup. “That doesn’t look like nothing.”

“I miss my mom, that’s all,” he says honestly.

Dick hums in understanding. “I miss mine too, a lot. I miss both my parents. Especially in times like this.” He looks everywhere but at Jason when he says, “Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if they were still there. If I was still at the circus with them.”

Jason hums. “Being with Bruce is probably better for me,” he says, because objectively, it is. Unlike Dick, and unlike most people he sees at school, Jason never had a proper childhood. He doesn’t even remember a time when he didn’t feel like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

“Probably,” Dick says. “I’m sorry, Jason.”

“I told you; you have nothing to apologize for.”

“We should have found you sooner.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not the only Crime Alley kid in need of saving, and no matter how much Batman and Robin try, they can’t save everyone.

“It’s okay,” Jason says. “You found me.”

Dick closes his eyes. “Yeah,” he says. “Bruce did.”

They don’t talk much more after that. Alfred brings dinner for Jason, smiling in approval when he retrieves the empty soup bowl. They watch some more TV, only interrupted by the regular sound of Dick coughing, and Jason can feel himself falling asleep when Bruce enters the room again.

“I have a lead on where the Riddler could have gotten the compound,” he says without so much of a hello. “I’m going there tonight, to find more about it, and hopefully a cure. We’re going to save the girls, and we’re going to save you.”

Dick makes a sound of approval from where he’s even more buried under the covers. It’s clear that he’s not in any state to be Robin tonight.

“I can help,” Jason says, standing quickly. “I can help you. I’ve been training, I could be Robin!”

“No,” Bruce says, and that’s final. “I am not endangering you. Stay here with Dick.”

“I’m okay,” Dick says, still not moving, and definitely not okay. “He’s right, you shouldn’t be alone. Jason is capable, and-”

“No,” Bruce repeats. Before Jason or Dick can add anything else, he’s gone.

“Alfred is on the comms,” Jason says, both for Dick and for himself. “He will call me if I’m needed.” To be honest, he’s not really ready to leave Dick alone while Bruce, Alfred and probably Barbara are racing to find a cure. He still feels like everything can go south so fast. And to think just a few hours before they were joking over lunch.

“He’s going to find something,” Jason adds. “And you will be better in no time.”

Dick doesn’t say anything.

And so, they wait. Jason puts the TV back on, but Dick isn’t really watching anymore, completely curled up on himself around the heat packs. Jason feels himself getting lulled to sleep, and Alfred is too busy to tell him to go to his actual bed. So, he lets himself drift on the couch.

Jason wakes up to a sound he doesn’t recognize and what feels like a block of ice hitting his shoulder. He blinks and turns toward Dick.

He immediately feels blood rushing to his body, pumping into his ears. Dick’s face is ashy gray, his lips turning blue. But it’s the sound that comes from him that freezes Jason in fear. He’d only heard one person breathe like this; an older homeless man who had developed pneumonia. Things didn’t end well for him.

Dick’s lips move to form the word help but no sound comes out of his mouth. He coughs, and something falls down his chin. It’s not blood, but it’s not spit either.

It’s ice, Jason realizes with horror. Thankfully, it melts quickly, but Dick is coughing up ice.

That, more than anything else, gets Jason to move. He jumps on his feet and runs toward the cave. He doesn’t have any breath left to explain the situation to Alfred, but the old man seems to understand, hurrying upstairs with him. Dick is still in the same state when they reach the living room, and Jason blindly follows the orders Alfred gives him, knowing he probably won’t remember much of it later. Together, they get a portable oxygen machine to push warm air into Dick’s lungs, hoping it will ease his breathing.

Dick is looking at them with wide eyes the entire time, but, thankfully, he seems to relax a few minutes after they put on the mask.

“Take care of him, Master Jason,” Alfred says. “Master Bruce should be back shortly.”

So, Jason stays there and watches Dick like a hawk. But eventually, as Dick is resting, his breathing once again regular, he finds himself pulled once more into unconsciousness.

“B?”

Jason wakes up with a start. Dick is awake, his eyes big as he calls.

“B?”

Jason quickly moves next to him. “He’s not here. He’s looking for a cure.”

Dick blinks, like he doesn’t really understand what’s going on. Maybe he doesn’t, Jason thinks. He’s suffering from severe hypothermia and breathing difficulties. Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he was confused or delirious.

“He’s not here?” he asks, a little sad.

“No, but not because he doesn’t want to be.” To be fair, Jason isn’t sure if Bruce would want to be here, but he decides to humor Dick. “He’s trying to save you. He can’t lose you.”

There is something strange that passes into Dick’s eyes, something that reminds Jason of that day one month ago when they talked about the adoption, something that is not confused at all, and he says, “He can. He will.”

Jason feels very cold, like he’s the one who’s been in contact with the dangerous chemical. “No,” he says. “He will be back, he’s going to save you, and-”

“In a month,” Dick continues. “I will turn eighteen. And I will be no one to Bruce.”

Jason blinks. This wasn’t about giving up, then. “What are you talking about?” he asks. What does turning eighteen have to do with all of that?

“Foster care ends at eighteen.”

And suddenly, everything makes sense. Dick’s behavior around the adoption papers. Working at the fast-food place. The scholarship.

“You’re not adopted.” It’s not a question. And Dick just thinks Bruce is going to give him up after he turns eighteen? “Why?”

Dick doesn’t look at him. “I don’t know,” he says, and Jason doesn’t push it.

“But even then,” Jason argues. “You’re much more to him than his foster kid.” Has Dick not seen the way Bruce looks at him? Has he not heard the way he talks about him to Jason? Has he not seen him breaking in front of his suffering, earlier? “You’re Batman and Robin,” Jason says, a desperate attempt to make sense of what he wants to say.

Dick let out a small laugh, a sad, quiet sound. “Not for much longer. He will find another, better Robin.”

“What?” Jason’s voice breaks a little. That doesn’t make any sense. “No, that’s not-”

“You said it yourself. You can be Robin.”

Jason’s hands instinctively go to cover his mouth, letting out a choked sound. He said it, but he didn’t think it would have such an impact on Dick. He didn’t mean it in a way that meant he could be a better Robin, just that he’d been training to help them in the fight.

“No, no. No, I don’t-”

“I know,” Dick says. “You’re a good kid,” and there are these words again, Jason is a good kid. He’s a good kid, but he’d been unable to save his mom. He’s a good kid, but he’s been unable to not hurt Dick with his careless words. “I couldn’t hate you if I tried. And that’s the thing: it would have been so much easier if I could just hate you and think everything is your fault. But you really don’t like to make things easy, do you?”

He stops a bit, to take his breath, and Jason doesn’t know what to say, he doesn’t know how to make things better. He doesn’t know how to make Dick see how much Bruce loves him, and he just recalls how many times Bruce had told him how proud he was of Dick, yet all he ever heard between Dick and Bruce is technical talk or arguments.

“It’s okay, Little Wing.” And Jason wants to scream, because nothing is okay. “Don’t cry.” Jason wants to reply that he’s not crying, but he’s not sure about that. “I understand. You will be a good Robin. And you will be a good son. You deserve it.”

Jason wants to yell, he wants to say that there is no such thing as deserving to be a son or deserving to be a parent, it’s either something that you are or aren’t, and that a lot of people, people like Augustus Wright, probably think his mother didn’t deserve to be a parent and maybe she doesn’t but she was there. She was there. But what comes out of his mouth is, “I don’t have to be Robin. I don’t want to be Robin if I have to become Robin like this. I can be something else! I can be Titmouse.”

Dick raises an eyebrow. “Titmouse?”

“I… whatever!” Jason angrily wipes his eyes and turns out he is crying. “I can be another spring bird! I can bring warmth to Gotham’s winter.”

Dick smiles, and it doesn’t fully reach his eyes, but it’s something. “I would like some of that warmth, if that’s not asking for too much,” he says. “I’m so cold.” One of his hands sluggishly goes on Jason’s face, removing a tear. Despite himself, Jason shivers at the contact, but he doesn’t move away.

“I can-” he says. “I will-”

“I know,” Dick replies to what hadn’t been spoken. “You’re a good kid,” he repeats, and Jason lets out a sob. “Even if it was a lie, I’ve been happy to call you my brother.”

The hand that had been on Jason’s face falls back on the couch, and Dick’s eyes slowly flutter shut. Jason’s heart misses a bit. “No.” He moves so he’s practically on top of Dick. “No, no no no. Don’t fall asleep.” He can’t handle this. Not again. And even if Dick was right and Bruce was ready to lose him, Jason really, really isn’t. “Don’t leave me alone. Please don’t leave me alone.” He’s whining, he knows he’s whining, but he can’t help it. He’s never been a child, but the last nine months had been the closest thing he had to a childhood. So now, he feels like a child, and a child is whining. “Don’t leave me alone.” Is he really that powerless? Is there really so little he can do to keep what he loves?

A hand moves him, takes him away from Dick, and he wants to fight, but his limbs feel like jelly, and he watches in a dazed state as Bruce introduces something into Dick’s IV line.

And then, as Bruce moves his hands away from the IV to discard the syringe, everything that just happened washes over him. How Dick thought Bruce was ready to leave him. How these kinds of feelings aren’t born overnight. How he never heard Bruce tell Dick anything nice, and that probably means he hadn’t said any at all during the last nine months, probably more. It rushes over him, and he needs to do something about it.

And, like that night in Crime Alley nine months ago, his first reflex is to lash out.

“It’s your fault!” he screams, punching Bruce. His fists aren’t hurting him, he doesn’t even put any strength on them. “It’s your fault!” he repeats, and he melts into Bruce’s arms when Bruce holds him. “I know,” he says, and Jason blinks because how could he possibly know? “I just didn’t know what else to do. I won’t force you to be Robin if you don’t want to.”

And he just moves away from the couch, leaving Jason on the floor to ask himself what on earth was he talking about?

“Master Jason,” Jason blinks and Alfred is here. He apparently did some arrangements around Dick, and Jason lost some time. “I think it’s time for you to rest in a real bed.”

Jason blinks again. He wants to protest, but he’s bone tired. “I’m not leaving Dick,” he says.

“Very well,” Alfred says, and he makes a sign to Bruce to carry Dick to his room.

As they make their way upstairs, Jason almost regrets his lashing out. Because Bruce is so careful, so loving, so fatherly with Dick that there is no doubt about his feelings. But then, why the adoption thing? Why did he offer Jason, but not Dick?

That’s a question for tomorrow morning, he thinks as he falls into the bed. For now, Dick is safe, saved by Batman, and he can fall asleep knowing he will still have time to untangle everything that just happened later.

Jason wakes up next to a furnace. He checks the heat packs, only to find them long cold. The heat produced in the bed isn’t anything artificial. He turns toward Dick, who is still asleep, and the heat the older boy radiates is a nice change from everything that happened the night before. Though, Jason thinks as he studies Dick’s flushed face and his labored breathing, maybe that’s even too much heat.

Jason quickly gets out of the bed, and dashes toward the corridor. He stumbles upon Bruce, who is walking quickly toward the room.

“I just got news from the hospital-” Bruce starts.

“Let me guess, the girls had an immune response to the cure?” Jason finishes for him and Bruce nods.

With Alfred, all three of them move into Dick’s room, who blinks and groans when he sees them, apparently waking up. Bloodshot blue eyes land on Jason, and he feels like he’s under a microscope.

“You’re okay?” is the first thing he asks Jason, and Jason nods. He wonders if Dick remembers the last night, or if he’s just asking this out of habit. He takes the safer route. “Yes. You’re not contagious, it’s an effect from the cure.”

Dick blinks again, and Alfred hands him a glass of water with a pill that he looks at for a few seconds before asking, “The cure?” And then, as if everything comes back to him, he turns toward Bruce and asks, “Are the girls okay?”

Bruce sighs. “More or less like you, except for the fact that they didn’t go into respiratory distress.” Dick looks away in shame at that. “There is no way to tell for sure, since this is very experimental, but the doctors expect the fever to last a few days, and then break on its own.”

Dick finally takes the pill and some of the water Alfred gave him before falling back into the bed. “Okay,” he says. “Good.”

Bruce looks like he wants to add something more, but Alfred clears his throat. “You should probably sleep it off then, Master Dick,” he says, but it’s clear he’s talking more to Bruce than to Dick.

Bruce seems to accept that now is not the time to talk and puts one of his hands on Jason’s shoulder. “Come on, Jaylad. Let’s give him space.”

Just before leaving, Jason takes a step toward Dick’s bed and kneels down. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he says, both because it’s true and because no one else said it.

Then, he follows Bruce and Alfred to the living room. Alfred had cleaned up all traces of the night Jason and Dick spent on the couch and even prepared dinner. Jason wonders how he does all that. Alfred, he decides, is probably not human. That is the best explanation.

“B,” Jason starts once Alfred is out of hearing range, probably going up to try to get some food into Dick. “What I said yesterday-”

“No, you were right. I brought you into this life, but that doesn’t mean you have to be part of it. When I first took Dick in, he was angry and reckless. He would go out every night on his own. At that time, we created Robin. It was the best thing both him and I could find. But,” Bruce’s fingers tighten on his fork as he eats, “that was naïve and reckless on my end to think I could keep him safe out there. What you saw yesterday… It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Dick knows it, and he made his choices. Still, Robin isn’t suiting him anymore, and he doesn’t want to keep working in the way we currently do. This is why, when you showed interest in vigilantism, I offered you to be Robin. But, if with after what you saw yesterday you don’t want to do this anymore, I can understand. You can keep training for self-defense, and you will always have a home in this house.”

Jason has to keep himself from murmuring a “Whoa.” This is the first time he heard Bruce talk that much since the speech he had when he arrived, he thinks. But there are several things that bothers him with what had just been said.

“No, I… I want to help. I know it’s dangerous, and I know danger. But these girls, they wouldn’t have been saved without Dick, would they?”

Bruce stays silent for a moment, not looking at Jason. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

“Okay.” Jason doesn’t push. “Okay.”

“But,” Bruce continues, “there have been situations where he undeniably saved people, so I guess your point still stands. Though, if you don’t want to-”

“You said Robin didn’t suit Dick anymore,” Jason cuts him, not wanting to go back on his involvement, fearful Bruce would change his mind about letting him go with them. “Did he tell you that?” Because this doesn’t make sense at all, given the conversation he had with Dick last night.

“No,” Bruce says, “He didn’t need to. His behavior has made it clear he needs a change, even if he might not see it yet.”

Jason blinks. Well, that was… a very Bruce thing to think. He doesn’t ask about the adoption thing. Part of him wants to ask, wants to know what made the difference between him and Dick, but part of him is afraid Bruce will backtrack if he asks too many questions, like he almost did for vigilantism.

Neither Bruce nor Alfred had said anything about school, so Jason assumes he’s allowed to skip today. He’s glad. He doesn’t hate school, but he doesn’t think he can handle it today, especially if Augustus or his friends start to pick on him. Especially without Dick. When he goes to see the older teen, he finds that Alfred had closed the door. The butler tells him to let Dick rest for now.

So, here Jason is. Not really knowing what to do and still full of adrenaline. He offers Alfred some help with the housework but, as usual, the old man firmly pushes him off after a few tasks. Bruce takes his computer and starts working on something in the living room, so he takes it as his clue to get a book and read.

They stay like this for a while, all three of them in silence. Jason regularly raises his head toward either Bruce or Alfred, and sometimes toward the stairs to check if he hears anything from Dick. But he’s totally absorbed into his reading when he hears, “What time is it?”

Jason raises his head quickly, not having heard Dick going down the stairs. It looks like the Robin stealth isn’t hindered by a fever.

Bruce, as expected, isn’t phased by the sudden apparition. “We’re just before midday,” he says, without even looking up from the thing he’s working on.

“I need to go to class,” Dick says and that has Bruce look up in an exasperated way. Jason is also kinda exasperated; he was hoping Dick wouldn’t remind Bruce and Alfred about school.

“I think not,” Alfred says, turning back sharply from whatever he’s doing. “You are still feverish, and, I would think, exhausted from the ordeal your body went through just last night. Go sit on that couch with Master Jason while I go fetch some lunch for the lot of you.”

Dick looks like he wants to argue, but he knows Alfred is right, and there is no way to argue with him anyway. So, instead, he just sighs, thanks him, and goes sit next to Jason.

“Are you okay?” Jason asks.

Dick looks steadily in front of him. “Yeah,” he says.

“You’re an excellent student, missing a day or two won’t hurt your grades.”

“Yeah.”

“And it’s not as if you could follow class properly with a fever anyway.”

Dick turns toward him. “You’re probably right,” he says. And then he smiles. “Looks like you gave me a bit too much warmth, right, spring bird?”

Jason immediately feels his cheeks heating up. “So, you remember what happened last night?”

Dick turns back to look at the wall. “Yes. Look, I was… I wasn’t in my normal state. What I said-”

“No, you were right. I mean, I’m glad you said it. I still want to help, but it doesn’t have to be by being Robin. I can be something else.”

Dick turns back to him with a smirk. “Titmouse?” he asks and his voice is still not back to normal but the gentle teasing heals something inside Jason’s heart he didn’t know needed healing.

“Shut up,” he says.

They stay in silence for a while before Jason dares ask, “Do you want to be adopted.”

Dick let out a long breath that makes Jason wish he hadn’t asked before saying “I don’t know.”

Jason doesn’t push it. He doesn’t know how to respond to that, anyways. After a time, Dick talks again. “But what I said is true. For however long it lasts, I’m proud to call you my brother.” His knuckles move to hit Jason’s head gently. “And if it’s still your choice, I would be happy to be your partner in the streets of Gotham.”

#dc #batfam #fanfiction #my writing #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #whump #dick grayson whump #hurt/comfort

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