#its fine when its a coping mechanism but with them you can kind of tell it isnt | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sttoru · 9 months

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𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃 . . .

⟣ sypnosis. you’re fed up with your rich abusive husband and finally decide to hire a skilled assassin to get rid of him in secrecy. one night when you’re left alone in your penthouse, you invite the assassin named toji over to give him the money he’s demanded to accept the job. things turn for the worse when your husband comes home early that day and catches toji and you together.

⟣ note. eeek. never thought i’d be here to write this out but i did and it turned pretty detailed if i must say. hope u all enjoy and appreciate my hard work. feedback / comments are greatly appreciated ! if the fic does well, i can make an alternative ending that’s smutty :3 wc: 7.4k

⟣ tags. toji fushiguro x female reader. angst, comfort. themes include abuse. reader is in an abusive + toxic relationship with her husband. implied age gap with husband. implied size difference with toji. mentions of guns + blood + m.urder. knifes.

“what is a successful marriage?”

that is one of the many questions that keep you up at night. you’ve laid awake for hours on end ever since you’ve married your husband, in search for reasonable answers. you’ve got many of them sorted out, however that specific question is one left unanswered.

it is very subjective—many can vary about the concrete answer. but one thing you know for sure is that your marriage is the exact opposite of what ‘successful’ means.

you were so full of yourself. you didn’t realise that your pride would also be your downfall one day; you’d constantly brag about having a rich husband who gets you everything you wanted. you were too blinded by love—or actually—by his money to notice the real him. the real, twisted and manipulative face of the man you were determined to marry.

his name was daisuke. from the yamamoto family. a family known in japan for its generational wealth and the many buildings and famous corporations it owns. you’ve worked at one of those companies and had met daisuke whilst he was on a visit. you’ve heard about his image by the public; sweet, caring and apparently wouldn’t hurt a fly.

unfortunately, the true him matched none of those descriptions. the true him only you—his wife—came face to face with at your shared home. you remember when it started. when daisuke began to turn into a nasty, abusive man whose anger is never restrainable.

your dating years were nothing but a dream. or, maybe you were too gullible to notice the signs and red flags your then boyfriend was showing. his love bombing, the manipulation, the gaslighting—you didn’t know better. if you complained about a minor thing that he had done, daisuke would apologise by sending you lots of money and presents. toxic, isn’t it?

but you didn’t care. you were happy and content with that being your compensation. the money was the evildoer that made you lose all your morals. the teenage you who said that you’ll never put up with a man’s disrespect was long forgotten.

even now, 4 years later, you put up with his verbal and physical abuse just to continue staying in that big mansion you live in. to continue getting everything paid for you. to continue getting lots of money by doing nothing but be his wife—his trophy wife, at this point.

it’s an easy life; ‘all i have to do is get through his abuse and it’ll be just fine’, you tell yourself that every night. it’s the only thing keeping you sane—a coping mechanism of some kind.

however lately, daisuke’s never skipped a day without being abusive towards you. he’d enter your home yelling and shouting, complains about the tiniest speck of dust in the house (which is not even your fault, it’s the maids’), reminds you how worthless you are in his eyes and the list goes on. he sometimes gets physical and throws stuff at you, causing multiple bruises and cuts to appear on your body after he’s done having his daily tantrum.

he might even kill you one day. it’s scary to think about; if he would, he easily could. he could one day just decide to be done with you and stick a knife in your body, leave you to bleed out and then order one of his men to get rid of your corpse. just like his family does to whoever stands in their way of success. you don’t want to discover how many people your husband has killed.

daisuke can easily get away with murder after all—the law is nothing but a thing to exist to keep the common citizens in the government’s control. to the rich, it’s like those rules don’t exist. court? justice? the so called independent judge? nothing money can’t buy. after all, money is power. money is innocence.

after four years of sticking with that rich man, you were getting tired. you were staying with him for his wealth, but was it actually worth it? besides, if daisuke hates you so much, why wouldn’t he divorce you instead? you don’t have anything going for you. except for your looks and youth, probably. that’s the main reason why daisuke coaxed you into marrying him—to show you off during events or parties. a complete and utter trophy wife you are.

you’ve been going to sketchy bars lately to let off some steam. you weren’t even there to drink alcohol. the sole reason for attending pubs was to forget about your own situation. you’d get weird stares since you’re always alone, sitting in that one spot in the far corner, no one wanting to come up to you because of that gloomy aura you’re emitting. and because you’re always dressed modestly from head to toe—not an ounce of skin showing. it was all the opposite of what most people would normally look and act like in bars.

‘what is normal?’ also a subjective question. society has turned it into an objective one, however.

“good day, miss.” a deep voice had interrupted your thoughts one day whilst you were doing your usual routine; sit near the bar counter, get a non-alcoholic drink, stare at the table for hours and question your purpose in life before going home to the reason of your problems.

a man, probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s, sat next to you on an available stool. he nonchalantly ordered a drink before making small talk. it was a nice change of pace for some reason. you had asked him his name. it was shiu.

that stranger had kept you company for hours until a call from your husband made you snap back to reality; you had to be home as soon as possible. judging by daisuke’s tone, you were in big trouble.

you remember how shiu outed his concern for your well-being by pointing out the bruises on your arm which you didn’t even know were showing.

you dismissed his worries with a fake smile and told him it was nothing, quickly pulling your sleeve back down. shiu seemed to let the topic go, but before parting ways with you, he handed you his business card. you didn’t know what it was for—what kind of services he could offer;

“call that number if you need someone to get rid of your problems,” was all you got before the mysterious man walked away. you couldn’t shake off the emphasis on the word ‘rid’. it sent a shiver down your spine.

that sentence of shiu’s echoed in your ears as tears streamed down your cheek after you arrived home. you were in your personal bathroom, hands shaking as you put a bag of ice on your fresh bruise, the small red and blue-ish area stinging. once again—you couldn’t avoid your husband’s wrath.

after having slept for a mere two hours that day in your bathtub, you’ve awoken to an empty house. daisuke was gone for work. luckily for you.

you hastily grabbed the business card in your purse and dialled the number. staring at the card, you’d think it was some kind of house cleaning service. that’s the kind of vibe it gave. little did you know that it was far from that.

a few rings later and you heard the same familiar deep voice in your ear; “good morning. with shiu kong.”

your heart was beating in your throat as you couldn’t gather the right words to say. maybe it was due to the little voice in the back of your head that warned you for something—you couldn’t pinpoint what the specific cause was just yet.

you answered eventually, “hi. uhm, you said i could call this number if i needed someone to get rid of my problems.” you pause and inhale deeply, “wh-what if my problem was.. a person? would you…” your voice trailed off, but the implication could not be missed by anyone if they heard the tone you used.

shiu seemed to recognise your voice, though stayed silent for a second or two at your request. when he replied, it sounded like he had expected you to ask him this—like he’s heard this many times before; “certainly.”

that’s when you realised what you’ve gotten yourself involved with. you were sweating and you had trouble breathing as you realised that.. this was your chance. to get rid of that man called your husband. your abuser.

you had decided to take on that opportunity and that’s how you ended up getting a phone call from an anonymous number right after your talk with shiu. the agent hadn’t told you anything other than the name of the person who’d contact you; ‘toji’, and said that he’d help you further.

you stared at the ‘no caller ID’ on your screen. this was him: the person who’d help you get rid of your problem. you gulped before sliding your thumb across your mobile to answer the call.

“hi, good m—”

“location.”

the husky male voice cut through your introduction and got straight to the point. your lips were parted to answer the man whom you guessed was ‘toji’, but your breath got caught in your throat for a second. do you just randomly give your address to a stranger? was that okay to do? you didn’t know—no, you didn’t care. if you got killed in the process or something similar, that’d be way better than to live another day in hell with your husband.

you dropped your address after some hesitation and toji just added a quick, ‘be there in an hour or so,’ before hanging up on you.

fast forward to 50 minutes later and you were pacing back and forth in your living room, trying to breathe properly and not have a second panic attack. daisuke wouldn’t be home until noon, so at least he won’t see whoever will enter your mansion in a few minutes. and if there’s a possibility that you get killed by this stranger, you’re sure that your husband would be more than happy that the job was done for him.

a loud tune. the sound of your doorbell. normally, you’d find the short melody relaxing, but now it sounded like something out of a nightmare. you made your way to your intercom and looked at the small screen—seeing a tall black-haired man with a compressed shirt and beige baggy pants standing near the gates. that must be toji—the man you talked to an hour ago.

he must be confident in his abilities since he didn’t cover up his identity at all when coming all the way over here.

you press a button and the gates open with a buzz. toji disappears from the little screen as he enters your front yard. the screen fades to black and you’re left alone with a sense of dread in your stomach. that only lasted for a couple seconds since the doorbell of your front door goes off.

“c-coming!” your voice cracks. you make your way over to the entrance of your home and breathe in. you open the doors slightly, peeking through the gap at the tall, intimidating man standing before you.

toji was kicking a rock to the side whilst waiting and looked up when you opened the doors. he seemed laidback, as if this was nothing but child’s play to him, “took ya long enough.”

you were appalled as toji simply barged into your home like he owned it. his strong, masculine cologne wafted through the air as he passed you by without giving you a second to process his intrusion.

your shaky eyes followed his bulky figure—the muscles that bulged through his shirt, which tensed every now and then. his aura was no joke either; it was horrifying to someone whom didn’t even know who he was or what he exactly did for a living.

“phewww,” the dark-haired man let out a low whistle as his eyes scanned the interior of the entrance hall, shamelessly touching a few expensive looking decorations, inspecting the material, “pretty damn rich, ain’t ya? this y’r daddy’s money?”

you shake your head and close the door behind you, staying there in case you needed to run. you are still wary of this situation, even when you had been the one that started this all.

“h-husband’s.” your voice was a quiet whisper. toji raised an eyebrow and turned his attention towards you. his eyes scanned you from head to toe. you looked pretty young. a fragile little thing, is how he described you in his head.

“husband? you?” toji chuckles dryly, before stepping closer to you, his body towering over yours. he lowers his head and stares at you from up close, his hands in his pockets whilst wordlessly looking at you.

you swallowed a bit of saliva and glanced back at the big man whom belittled you twice in just a couple seconds. you fumbled with the sleeve of your hoodie as the silence grew deafening—the only sound being your own soft yet shallow breathing.

your fingers scratched at the bruises under the fabric of your clothes, causing the cloth to slightly crinkle and glide up a few centrimeters with each rub before coming back down once your fingers stop. the instant you start touching those bruises, the itching just wouldn’t stop.

toji noticed this and looked down at your arm. his eyes caught a small glimpse of a wound on your wrist, but he didn’t seem to comment on it. with a sniff, he straightened his back and cocked his head to the right—face cold again as he glared at you;

“do ya know what kinda stuff i do?” his voice was booming, the deepness to it making you shiver. you press your lips together and search for answer, only to find nothing;

“n-no, i mean—“ your itching increases the more nervous you felt, “th-the man who directed me to you said you’d explain things further. all i know is that you can get rid of uhm— a problem of mine.”

toji scoffs and mutters something incomprehensible under his breath about his ‘stupid agent letting him do all the work’ before turning around. he lazily walks ahead as if he had all the time he needed in the world. once arrived in your living room, the man plops down on your couch, spreads his legs and leans back against the cushions. he really acted like he owns this place.

“i’m not the type to beat around the bush, little lady,” toji starts whilst his eyes follow you as you nervously sat on the chair next to the sofa, “so i’m gonna get straight into it. and if ya back down after this or get too scared ‘n call the cops, unfortunately, y’r pretty ass gotta go.”

toji swipes a thumb across his neck to indicate what that latter meant; killed. you’re gonna get killed if you learn his real identity and decide to expose it to anyone, especially the police. you blinked your tears away whilst thinking of that possibility and shook your head, putting on a determined face. you need to take responsibilities for your actions. you were the one who started this.

“all right. i promise that i won’t back down.” you reply after getting yourself together. toji’s eyes had left yours for a second to look around the grand living room—as if inspecting for something—before settling back on you. he quickly exhales through his nose; leaning his head on his hand while his piercing gaze burned holes in your skin,

“i’m an assassin.” toji says in a bored tone. he’s done this little introduction to his job so many times before to clients who hire him in for the first time, “i kill people in exchange for money. so, ya basically hired me to get rid of someone ‘nd i’m here to collect the money and information i need to finish the job. got that?”

there it was. the confirmation you needed and got without an ounce of hesitation coming from the man in front of you. you had expected this outcome (from the many you created in your head), of course, thus you weren’t that surprised. yet the fact that you actually have a hitman in your house, someone who can easily kill your husband, still makes you nervous.

“yes, thank you.” you eventually replied and nodded, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves. you looked up at toji and this time it wasn’t in a nervous way. this time it was in a determined way. toji notices this change and the scarred corner of his lip curled into a smirk.

“how much. . . money do you want for this job?” you go straight to the point. the dark-haired man grins whilst scanning your figure up and down shamelessly, enjoying the confident look on you. it suited you better.

“depends. who is it that i gotta kill?” toji asks, using his thumb to crack his index finger. you look around as if anyone could hear you. you were sure that no one was there with you, no maids no bodyguards no husband, yet your anxiety was still at its peak.

“my husband.” you reply quietly and point at the big picture frame on the wall near the chimney. it was a picture of daisuke and you. you seemed happy there, but it was all for show. that photoshoot was simply for his benefit, “daisuke. daisuke yamamoto.”

toji raises his eyebrow and stares at the picture. he’s heard of that name before. it was mentioned many times in the articles he reads. the assassin stands up with a grunt and walks to the chimney, letting out a small hum like he was thinking about it. not about if he could get the job done—no, his pride told him he easily could—but about the amount of money he wanted to get out of this.

there was a silence before toji turns around on his heels and walks over to the couch again, plopping down on the soft cushions whilst propping his feet on the table in front of him, “around seven million yen will do.”

that was about 50.000 dollars.

your jaw slightly dropped. it’s not like you haven’t seen nor heard of such big numbers before, it’s just that it was a little unexpected. but then again; nothing you can’t afford. with your husband’s money. the same money that ruined your life, is going to be used as a weapon to save it.

daisuke’s own money is going to be the death of him. and you’re the one to guarantee that.

“all right. i can get you that in cash.” you nod idly. your mind was clearly somewhere else—trying to remember the password to daisuke’s safe that was situated in a hidden room near his office. you recently found out that he keeps most cash, gold and other valuable pieces there, away from your sight. he was bad at hiding that fact from you, however.

one night, he came home drunk and it ended up with him confessing to you that he ‘won’t ever let a gold digger like you near his money again’ and proceeded to spill that he ‘has a secret safe which you won’t ever get your hands on’. eventually, you did. after a bit of snooping around, you easily found the hidden room behind a bookcase.

those fat stacks of money in there definitely add up to more than seven million yen. you’re sure of it. the only obstacle in your way is gathering that money. most of the time, daisuke locks his office before leaving home—or if he doesn’t—his maids will be in there cleaning.

“it will take me some time, but…” your voice trails off as a pensive look falls on your face. you bite your bottom lip and try to figure out something—a plan. toji catches your attention again by letting out a deep sigh. he dismissively waves your worries away with one hand;

“tha’s fine, lady. i need some time to prepare for this job too—it ain’t an easy one after all.” the assassin comments whilst scratching the scar near his lips, also seemingly deep in thought about his own plan, “bet he got lots of guards on his ass, too. tch.”

there was another thought in the back of toji’s mind that bothered him. normally, he’d be pissed off if his client didn’t prepare any kind of money beforehand. maybe some compensation bills, or at least a little thing he can have before they give him the full amount.

but with you, he seems not to mind. he wouldn’t be mad if he left this place empty handed for the time being. maybe he actually feels pity for your situation. or was it something else?

toji scoffs at his wandering mind and inwardly tells himself to shut up about such dumb stuff. getting his money is what’s most important to him. if you die afterwards, he wouldn’t care.

that’s what he tells himself.

“anyways. you should gimme all ya know about him. y’re his wife, right? ya should know his routine ‘n stuff that i can work with.” toji speaks up after the ten seconds of silence. you nod at his question—he wanted every single piece of information about your husband, so you’ll give him everything. no details excluded.

you pull out your phone and show toji pictures you took from daisuke’s computer in secrecy. pictures of his daily schedule for the upcoming month. your prior intention by taking those was to know when to be back home or when to avoid him, but they could be useful for this as well.

you continue to explain when and where daisuke holds his breaks, where his main office is located, the bodyguards that accompany him every day and when they leave him alone— all the information you gathered.

toji can’t help but be amazed by your memory. and the fact that you can recall everything, small or big, about your husband. it certainly did make his job easier; now he doesn’t have to pry out more hints on daisuke himself.

of course, you had your reasons for knowing all the miniscule facts about daisuke. it’s how you managed to survive those four years of marriage.

“good. tha’s enough.” toji nods and stands up with a grunt, stretching his arms—the muscles retracting. you couldn’t help but stare at them; he must have gone through a lot of training to become an assassin. a skilled one at that.

“before i go,” toji continues as he walks past you without looking back, heading straight for the exit of the living room, “you should delete all cctv footage that ya got going on ‘round here. i’ll take care of further evidence, yeah?”

toji moves his index finger in a circle, pointing at all corners in the house. he doesn’t want to risk anything, “i’ll call ya once i get things sorted out. then i’ll get to work when ya hand me the money.”

you nod and make a mental note for yourself to do that immediately once toji’s gone. you still had an hour or two before your husband would return. you don’t think he checks the cctv footage often (otherwise he’d have caught you sneaking into his office before), but it’ll be a big problem if he actually does and sees a random man in his home.

“will do. thank you.” you reply to toji and get up to politely see him out of your house. that’s when the realisation kicked in; your husband will be killed by this man right here in front of you. goosebumps appeared on your skin—not from fright. but from… happiness?

this stranger will end years of torment for you. yes, it’s his job. he’ll probably disappear after he’s got the money and completed your request, and yet, you can’t help but be extremely thankful.

without thinking, you reach out and grab onto toji’s wrist to stop him from moving. the assassin doesn’t stiff or tense up by this sudden touch. in fact, he’s already sensed it coming and allowed it.

toji’s actually more surprised by the fact that his mind and body allowed you to touch him. if it were anyone else, he’d probably have avoided their touch, broken their hand or worse—cut it off.

he moves his head to the side and looks at you from his peripherals, though not fully turning to you yet. he doesn’t speak up either; he’s waiting on you to go first.

your heart was somehow starting to beat even faster. you bit your lip and mentally cursed yourself out for pulling such an action; you could’ve just waited to show your gratitude through the phone.

well, either way, there was no going back now so you might as well spill your words of gratitude right this moment. you took a deep breath and parted your lips, ready to talk, but was then interrupted by your biggest nightmare.

a familiar, chilling voice. your heart drops. your body freezes.

“i knew it.”

a looming figure stood near the entrace to the living room. you recognised him instantly, as did your body, which went into an almost paralysed state. your mouth went dry, your hands started shaking and your eyes widened to the point you weren’t blinking anymore.

your husband, daisuke, appeared out of thin air in front of toji and you. his gaze was solely focused on the way your fingers were curled around toji’s wrist. to top it off, he had only heard the last bits of your conversation: something about deleting cctv and money. his brain hadn’t heard the entirety of it—he had already taken wrong conclusions in his head.

daisuke’s veins were on the verge of popping as he took two big steps towards you—you taking two steps back in response.

“i knew you were cheating on me, you fuckin’ slut.” daisuke spits with his finger pointed right at you. he was ignoring toji’s presence for the time being. he had to deal with you first;

“i work my ass off all day and night to provide for you and this is how you repay me? by inviting a random dude over whilst i’m gone? ungrateful bitch.”

two insults in a row; one more and daisuke’s putting his hands on you. it always went like that. your mind felt like it was emptied, but you somehow felt relieved that your husband didn’t seem to know the real reason of why toji had come over. daisuke really thought you were just cheating on him, and that your words of ‘deleting all cctv footage’ was to hide that infidelity.

“it’s n-not.. like that, daisuke.” you try to soothe the raging man in front of you, but your attempts were futile. he was just three quick steps away from resorting to physical violence.

toji, in the meantime, had stepped off to the side. you were only his client, thus there was no need to interrupt a couple’s ‘dispute’. you weren’t anyone dear or special to him—just a client. a stranger that owes him money to perform a job.

the assassin leans against a nearby wall, crossing his arms over his chest whilst watching the scene unfold. it was unfortunate that toji’s target was right there in front of him; he could just kill him right now. get the job done and over with. but, once again, toji only got to work if he had the money. he only assassinates when his skills are paid for. not any earlier and not any later. those were his morals—the rules he lives by.

if toji wanted to, he could simply walk away and let you handle this stuff by yourself. daisuke accusing him of being your ‘thing on the side’ didn’t bother him. as long as your husband doesn’t know his real identity, he’s fine with whatever accusations that get thrown at him.

but, for some reason—the same reason from earlier—his body was yelling at him to stay. toji sighs; he knows he won’t ever win a battle against his heart’s needs. he decides to stay.

daisuke still doesn’t seem to care about this; all the man wants is to out his anger and accuse you of things he now has enough ‘evidence’ for. he was seething and fuming at this revelation.

“god knows what else you’ve done behind my back. i bet he isn’t the only one you’ve fucke—“

“stop! i’m not cheating,” you finally yell back. it was the first time in a while that you had gathered the strength to do so. it felt good now that you had stuck up for yourself, but you knew how this would end for you—probably on the floor. crying.

despite all of that, you decided to keep on going. it’s now or never: all you have to do is make up a lie, probably withstand daisuke’s anger again and hope it doesn’t kill you. just this once; all you have to do is survive this once and then you’ll be freed from him.

you’ll give toji his money and he will do the job for you. just a few more days—

“he’s.. he’s my friend’s husband. i invited them both over and he just arrived earlier than expected.” you quickly made up. it sounded a little convincing to you. toji’s low snicker of amusement in the back confirmed that it maybe was the opposite of convincing.

daisuke scoffs at the pathetic attempt of hiding your ‘infidelity’. with another step forward, he raises his voice a notch; “yeah, right! what a pathetic excuse.”

a second step—you were waiting on that third curse. that third swear word that would set hell loose in this house, “do you really think you can fool me with that? huh?!”

it hadn’t happened yet. you still had time to think of a plan to perhaps escape this situation. your eyes flickered over to toji, although it didn’t seem like he’d be of any help. of course, he’s just an outsider after all. a stranger whom you just met today.

assassins have already disregarded their heart emotions the moment they decided to go down the path of killing for a living. you wouldn’t even blame toji for not stepping in. you’re also but a stranger to him.

toji could see the glimmer of hope in your eyes when you looked at him. or maybe it was a call for help. a desperate look. he can’t tell the difference. though, what he can tell, is that there was a gnawing feeling in the pits of his stomach. a gut feeling that told him it’d be smart to interfere.

but there’s his rational thoughts that tell him to not get involved—to avoid any more trouble than needed. besides, what other benefits would it bring him if he did? toji doesn’t want to be seen as a hero or saviour by anyone.

his jaw clenches as the time ticks. only a couple seconds left before the cold-hearted assassin has to make a decision.

daisuke’s patience was running low. the tension was increasing and could burst at any given moment now. one wrong move and you’re done—

one wrong breath could result in the worst possible outcome.

your silence spoke volumes to daisuke. the way you held your head low, your eyes that flickered from the floor to the ceiling, your fingers that nervously fumbled with your clothes and your bottom lip that trembled unstoppably. that pissed him off.

everything about you pissed him off. daisuke didn’t see any benefits of having you around anymore. he hadn’t for the long time, however didn’t know how he’d get rid of you.

divorce? no, he’ll have to give some of his earnings to you. kick you out? a possibility, but that would ruin his reputation. blackmail? that option was now the best choice. he’s caught you with another man after all. with camera evidence.

but, daisuke wouldn’t be satisfied with that outcome. his rage was blinding him—more than usual. he has to make you learn your lesson. in a way that will have you begging for your life to be spared.

and thus, the last step was made. the deciding hands were raised—aimed for your neck. the final curse had left his lips;

“come here. i’ll show you how whores like you should be treated.”

killing intent. it was the first time you’ve seen daisuke’s gaze darken that much, his demeanour emotionless yet full of rage. you close your eyes and expect for the worse.

“tha’s enough.”

everything went blank to you. it was silent, your vision was black, your hands were above your head, your heart felt like it wasn’t beating anymore—had you met your end? had you already been murdered?

in that same instant, you could feel drops of liquid splatter on your face. a faint ringing sound in your ears—it sounded like fireworks had been set off. a loud ‘pop’ sound.

something hit the ground right after. it wasn’t your body since that someone or something landed right at your feet.

after that: utter silence.

you gathered all your strength once more and slowly opened your eyelids. your vision was a bit blurry, though the first shape you could make out was one of a man on the ground. and not just any man—it was the man whom you hated most. at your feet.

you would’ve never thought of seeing that image before. of your husband laying at your feet; both literally and figuratively. a red liquid gushed out of his head and soaked into your shoes.

a normal wife would’ve let out a blood hurling scream at the sight of her lover laying lifelessly near her. a normal wife with a healthy relationship, that is.

you did let out a scream at the sight of your husband laying lifelessly near your feet. but that wasn’t done out of panic for your husband’s life—or due to the pain you were in to see him dead.

it was purely because you hadn’t seen a corpse before.

“d-daisuke..?”

a normal wife would’ve called out her husband’s name in a futile attempt that he’d answer back. that all of it was a dream. that her beloved wasn’t dead.

your reason wasn’t anything close to that. you called out that name in hopes he wouldn’t answer back. that all of it wasn’t a dream. that your abuser was dead.

it was real. you were glad, yet extremely disturbed by the fact that there was a corpse at your feet. you didn’t want to see all of it happening—that wasn’t part of the plan.

you stumble back a bit, hands clutching onto the chair you bumped into as you did your best to avoid the gruesome scene before your eyes. you just wished someone would clean the mess as soon as possible.

it’s then that your gaze fell on the other person present in the room; the man who was standing with a gun in his hand. toji scratched his head with the barrel, cold eyes looking down at the corpse with a faintly visible disgusted expression.

the assassin clicks his tongue as he walks towards the lifeless body and puts the sole of his shoe on daisuke’s cheek as if he was stepping on a pile of dirt, moving the head back and forth to check for any possible ounce of life in there.

there was none. the soul had left its body almost instantly after that bullet went through his brain. toji sighs; this time at himself for acting irrationally, “should’ve tortured you to death for tryin’ to put y’r hands on that lady instead of givin’ you the easy way out.”

with a harsh kick to the head on the floor, toji gathers some of his saliva on his tongue before spitting on the man. doubling the disrespect; “consider yourself lucky.”

toji cocked his head to the right. that’s where he spotted you with a familiar look on your face. the expression of someone who just went through a traumatic experience. he’s seen many people react like you when facing a near death experience or when witnessing somebody die before them.

usually, he’d tell them ‘it’s normal, get used to it’ and leave it at that. this was different. it felt different with you.

“are you okay?” the words slipped out of toji’s mouth before he could hold them back. his tone was a mixture of genuine concern and confusion. the latter was due to his own state of mind at the moment.

you didn’t answer, but you put your hands on your mouth as if you were going to puke any moment now. your vision was getting blurry with tears, head spinning and body feeling numb and weird.

toji hesitates before stepping towards you. his hands reached out to hold you, though he stopped them. he’d figured you wouldn’t be comfortable with him touching you in any way or form. he just killed someone in front of you—

it’s not like you cared that it was your husband. that much was clear. you sniff and glance up at toji with such a relieved yet devastated expression that his arms instinctively wrapped around you and pulled you into his warm embrace.

it was an awkward hug since toji doesn’t really know the basics of comforting someone. he was a bit stiff, but you didn’t show any discomfort due to that fact. instead, you clung onto his body and left tear stains on his black shirt.

“shhh, shh. it’s fine. it’s okay.” toji whispers, whilst his big hands indecisively move around, trying to find a spot to rest on. one eventually lands on the back of your head whilst the other starts to slowly rub up and down your spine, “it’s over, yeah? all of it—it’s over.”

toji doesn’t have a clue about the exact details of what your life was like. why you asked him to kill your (now ex-)husband was none of his business. all he knew was that he was going to get paid for it, so he didn’t care what the reason was.

it wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed the scars and bruises on your body throughout your conversation either—but that as well—was none of his business. assassins do their job without any further questions. there was no need to have personal connections or relations with their clients.

yet, toji was going against those unspoken rules once more. all because of you. for you.

“thank y—you.” your voice was weak as you speak up. it sounded hoarse and tired, though the sense of gratitude was undeniably there, “thank you, thank you, thank you.”

a series of ‘thank you’s’ leave your lips whilst your body and mind were still trying to recover from the whole ordeal. toji was trying his best to keep by your side until you calmed down. that’s the least he could do—after the fact that he singlehandedly got rid of the main problem in your life.

“no need to thank me, lady.” the dark-haired man whispers, allowing you to mess up his shirt with your tears and tugs, “i did what i had to do.”

toji didn’t actually have to do what he did. he never does his job before he’s guaranteed the money. however this time, it was a different story. he did it without thinking. he had to. his body was telling him to move—and in a flash—it was done.

he tries to tell himself that it’s just him slacking off. that he isn’t possibly starting to care about another person. he shouldn’t; those complicated emotions would stand in his way. and yet. . .

“c’mere.”

toji lifts you up bridal style while you keep quivering against his shoulder. his hands had a tight grip on your body, his eyes a sharp gaze on the mess he created. with a sigh, he takes you upstairs to a random room—kicking the door open.

toji carefully puts you back on your feet and guides you to sit on the edge of the kingsized bed. he absentmindedly brushes a few strands of your hair back after wiping some more tears away from your face;

“i know it’s a lot to take in,” toji kneels down before you, looking up with an unreadable expression whilst wiping the tears from your cheeks. his warm palms make contact with your skin and it’s like you’ve forgotten all about what just happened, “but is it okay if ya stay here while i go take care of the rest? i’ll come back once i’m done.”

toji has his own ways of cleaning up after he’s done a job and most likely wants to put one of those techniques to use before any maid or guard comes to check in on the house situation. you sniffle and hiccup afterwards, trying to form a verbal response through your broken sobs, but to no avail.

you simply nod and lean into toji’s calloused hands—such rough and masculine hands—ones that were meant to protect instead of hurt you. you weren’t able to trust men after your marriage, however this one in front of you was unlike any other. even if he may not seem like it on the outside.

his touch was gentle yet firm. the pads of his thumbs swiped the wet skin under your lower eyelashes and you could’ve sworn toji’s gaze had softened for a split second before he caught himself.

he had to stand up, get rid of the mess and leave the place before he got too attached to you. the assassin cannot make such a grave mistake.

“i promise,” toji speaks up after a bit again, standing up after giving you a soft pat against your shoulder, “you’re fine. i’ll be back—ya have my word.”

there he goes; making promises he knows he probably can’t keep. ‘i’ll be back’, will he? he can’t. for your own safety. he has to treat you as just another client. none of what he did in this house could be spoken of anymore.

he slipped up this once. it needn’t to happen again. money. he does his jobs for money—when he obtains the money. he doesn’t kill his targets for the sake of others, for the protection of others.

he doesn’t kill for love.

toji wishes that all of this had never happened, because he knows that his heart will lead him back to you at the end of the day. he knows he won’t leave once he cleans up the mess downstairs. he’ll come right back to you.

and you have faith in that. you trust this stranger whom had practically saved your life with just one shot.

“i don’t know how to repay you.. thank you.” you manage to mutter through shallow breaths. you stare at the back of toji’s head as he makes his way to the door. he stops in his tracks to reply to your comment.

he stands still at the doorway and looks over his shoulder at you—the scarred corner of his lips twitching;

“prepare the money. tha’s how you can repay me.” toji replies and you don’t know if he’s joking or being serious because of that little grin on his face. a breathy chuckle follows and then the assassin disappears.

the door closes and you’re left alone in this space. left alone in the silence of the home that had treated you as its prisoner. you remember how your husband used to lock you up in your bedroom whenever you had done something to piss him off; taking away your freedom by keeping you in a room.

now it’s yours—your life is yours. you’ve fully gained your freedom back and can decide what to do for yourself. it seems like a foreign situation, a foreign world, a foreign concept; you can now actually do whatever your heart desires. without any restraints.

“what is a successful marriage?”

well, to you, it’s one with a satisfactory ending.

🏷️ : @satoruhour @squicksquak @omgeto @xmintpie @cursingtoji @obsidiannero @elmoees @x1aosg1rl @fushironi @ceceher @ajax1230 @toji-is-hot @jayugh @rinshoe @sligerate @satoryaa @luveblad3 @happystrawberrytyrant @ezraiix

#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #toji x you #jjk fic #jjk x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #i tried my best :#:(…

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ace-of-gay · 9 months

Text

Tiny for today

Loki x little! reader

Warnings: age regression, little names like baby, tiny. Caregiver name like daddy, (i think thats honestly the only one)

Items like stuffies and paci, bottle. Reader regresses to newborn headspace

No weight, skin color, or gender mentioned.

Age regression is a coping mechanism if you dont like it please dont read it or educate yourself on the topic but please be respectful

Any hate will be deleted

Waking up doe eyed and deep in your headspace, loki knows immediately just from the glance you give him, turning the lights lower so not to hurt his sweet baby's eyes, he walks over, putting in full effort to keep a kind gentle demeanor, “good morning my dovey, were tiny today aren’t we?” He questions, knowing hes not going to get an answer.

“Yes, I believe we are, which means it’s a daddy and baby day hm?”

He would be lying if he said this want one of his favorite types of regressions you do, he doesn’t get to see his little one like this all that often, the sweet sparkly eyes are a given, those alone have him wrapped around your finger, hes at your beck and call or more so your babble and cry but right now the sweet gentle hold of your eyes to his approach, “yes, indeed, a divine rainy day for daddy and his little star” he coos at you, running his supple hand over your cheek, cherishing every ounce of adoration his heart could feel in the wake of your smile.

A small tiny babble of pure love and wanting to feel him hold you, he took this with immediate understanding, as you move your arms somewhat aimlessly he helps loosens you from the blanket so you don’t accidentally bend your arms or hands in a way that would strain or pull on them funny.

Lifting you into his arms, holding you chest to chest with him as he grabs a paci from the bedside table and your stuffy from the bed, he carries you to the living room a bounce in his step to soothe you and a hum in his chest, he knew you loved this he would make sure to have one of your hands above his chest so you could feel the vibrations of the sweet thrum of his voices resonation in his chest just for you.

Laying you gently on the couch he holds your stuffy above you to boop your nose with its nose, making kissy sounds as he taps the stuffys nose against your smiley cheeks and sweet delicate nose, he lays the stuffy atop your chest where your little hands could easily grasp it, he turns to move the coffee table to the side of the room, going into the closet, pulling out the padding mat your favorite blankie for when you’re tiny and a few other things, making a comfy little place on the floor for you, much safer than having you somewhere you could fall.

After transferring you to the little nest as he called it he gave you your paci turning on comforting calm music and going to the kitchen to make himself tea and you a warm bottle of milk, keeping his eyes on you as he does this.

When he returns to you he sets his tea aside wanting to make sure you got your bottle first since you couldn’t quite tell him when you needed food or drink he wanted to make sure you weren’t neglected in your needs, holding you gently in his arms making sure you were comfy in his arms before he goes to take your paci but you trill in soft baby giggles when you refuse to let him take it.

“Oh silly baby, someone’s being mischievous and its not me for once, can daddy take your paci? I have a bottle of warm yummy milk for my baby” to which you allow him to take the paci cause I mean what little one would pass up a yummy bottle in the morning.

Hes full of adoration, especially when you suckle on the bottle so intently with half lidded eyes, like it took all of you to just do the small things and that’s perfectly fine with him, its what hes here for, hes here to take care of his baby, hes honored that you trust him with you in such a vulnerable state.

After your bottle and all related in that he takes small comforting sips from his tea before pulling out one of his many books, it didn’t matter what he read aloud so long as it was appropriate, his favorite writings were old poems of sweet rotations of love how it be that planets circle the sun in a dance that with their gravity pulls causing the star to dance from a tiny wobble. One hand holding the book and his other running through your hair, today was about his little one, making sure to keep you happy and calm, he’d plant every tree on earth in light of the sun and down of the rain if it meant he could see your smile everyday the way he sees it right now.

#loki x reader fic #daddy loki x little! male reader #loki x little! reader #daddy! loki x little! reader #daddy loki x little reader #daddy loki x little! reader #loki x reader fanfic #loki x reader fluff #loki x little reader #loki x little!reader #little! reader #little reader insert #agere reader #ace finally posting a new marvel little reader fic after like 3 months of mental and medical hell #not to mention writers block but shhhh

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chronicbeans · 10 months

Note

What do you think puppeteer wally would do if puppet y/n suddenly turned human?

Oh boy, he's going to go crazy. Let's go!

Puppeteer Wally if Puppet Reader turned Human:

TW: Obsessive and Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Delusions/Overly High Expectations, Perfectionism, Overprotective Behavior

He's over the moon with excitement! His (Y/N)? Human?! Now they can really be together, as in, he can take you outside and show you off! As a puppet, he couldn't really take you outside. If he did, you would have to act limp and lifeless. After all, what would the average person think of a puppet that moves and talks on its own? They'd probably scream "Haunted puppet! Creepy doll! Monstrous creature!" It just never felt right to take you out on a "date" at the mall or a restaurant, only for you to not be able to do anything.

Now that you are human, however, he can take you on those dates! It'll be just like his fantasies! Candlelit dinners, shopping sprees (he'll be sure to carry all the bags, no matter how many or how heavy they are), walks under the moonlight... Yes, exactly like his fantasies!

If you happen to look any different than your puppet form, such as (S/C) skin instead of say... the (F/C) felt that made up your puppet form's skin tone, he wouldn't mind. In fact, he finds it even more adorable than before! Your appearance in this human form, he tells himself, is simply the true you! The true culmination of every value you embody. The kindness, acceptance, patience, generosity... This human form is the true form of you, since you are those things... It may sound confusing when said aloud or written down, but to Wally, his complex thought process behind this belief makes complete sense. If anybody doesn't understand it, they simply don't have the open mind to do so. If you don't understand it, it's because you shouldn't worry your pretty little head over it.

He's been wanting to take you out somewhere for a long time, now. He hated seeing you so sad and upset in his home, looking outside with such longing. He's also terrified of the fact that, once he does take you outside, there is a chance you will run away. So, it'll take a while before he finally decides to bring you somewhere, mainly because he makes sure to plan everything ahead of time. There will be no escaping from him during this little outing. He's planned for every situation he can think of.

Another side effect of him longing to take you out is that he wants it to be perfect. It must be exactly like his imagination - with a few exceptions, of course. He may make sure that the entirety of a candlelit dinner goes exactly like his fantasies, but if you don't want to have the romantic kiss at the end, like he always imagined you would, he won't make you. He may be a bit... Unhealthy to be in this "relationship" with, but he has strong boundaries regarding physical affection. Forcing hugs and cuddles is completely fine, and he does it rather often. Anything beyond that, though? He would never dream of it! He won't even kiss you on the cheek if you say you don't want him to.

Cuddling with you as a human, is 20× better than you as a puppet, in his opinion. While puppet you may be soft and plush, human you is equally as soft, trading plushness for warmth! He also gets to listen to your relaxing heartbeat. It really grounds him whenever he gets overstimulated from work, anxiety, or even his own emotions for you. Sometimes his head and heart are filled with so many thoughts and emotions about how much he loves you, he can't put them into words, causing him to get overstimulated- which then results in an instant cuddle session that lasts two hours. Beats when you were a puppet, where he would sometimes forget that you are sentient and shake you like a plush toy, which he did before you came to life.

Speaking of puppet you... he would still want to control you, in some ways. One of his best (read: unhealthy but it worked miracles for him) coping mechanisms for fears that you would leave him would be puppeteering you to tell him exactly what he wants to hear. If he thought that you hated him and wanted to leave, he'd simply have you say "Oh, I love you, Wally! Why would I even think of leaving?" He can't exactly do that, now that you are human... So, he has gone to try to control as much as he still can.

What you eat, what you are allowed to do, what you watch... As much as he can. Much like his boundaries on affection, however, he has some strong ones here. Anything he views as being creative and expressive will always be allowed!

Cooking is creative. You can cook whatever you want, as long as he watches to make sure you don't hurt yourself. He already controls what's in the fridge and cabinets, anyway, so he is still controlling what is being eaten. He'll even eat whatever you make, complimenting it and giving you advice on how to improve.

Drawing, painting, and writing are creative. That's happily allowed, as long as he can see the drawings and paintings you make. He's... tried to read what you write, but has realized how defensive people can get over it. Especially if you decide to write a diary or journal. He'd rather not have you crying and screaming at him, again, so he'll let you show him when you are ready.

Finally, fashion is considered creative. He won't control what you wear. The only exception is when he wants to play dress up. He'll go out and buy a bunch of clothing for you, then have you try them on. Even then, though, he tries to buy things that he thinks you will like, based on things you've liked previously, things you've looked at in the store or online, and what you wore in the show. He also sees playing dress up not as forcing you to wear different clothes or to change your creative expression, but as providing more options and opportunities to expand your style and expression. He also hopes it helps you adjust to the human world, as you and Julie played dress up a lot in the shows and books.

Overall, he will become a bit more lenient in certain ways, but it is cancelled out by how he becomes more strict in others. As a puppet, you didn't eat or drink, so he didn't have to worry about that. Now, he does need to worry, so he tries to control it. However, he is now letting you go outside with him, and even buys you whatever you want as long as he doesn't see it as something that can help you escape. He doesn't worry as much about you hurting yourself around the house, due to you now being a human. As a puppet, not only could you get ripped, you simply getting wet could cause damage, as well as the possibility of you getting stained. As a human, you are safe from that, but he will now be constantly fussing over the possibility of you getting sick.

You being human will simply cause his controlling, possessive, and overprotective behaviors to switch and evolve to work for a human instead of a puppet. Wanting things to go as he fantasizes about still happened when you were a puppet, but they only involved activities around the house. He's just... adapted to the situation.

#welcome home #welcome home arg #wally darling #wally darling x reader #welcome home au #welcome home puppeteer wally au #welcome home puppeteer wally

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pasta-in-the-pudding · 5 months

Note

SO IM SORRY IF THIS IS REALLY RANDOM BUT IF ITS OK COULD I REQUEST TICCI TOBY,MASKY,HOODIE,EJ WITH A TEEN!READER that's like shy but when the reader gets more comfortable around them, reader acts childish/shows their inner child bc they had to grow up quickly ifykwim

(this sounds so cringe >_< 😭)

Theres no such thing as bad cringe here, friend. Be as cringe as you'd like!

Thank you so much for requesting!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Toby

Meeting you was pretty normal for him

Most of the other kids around the manor are pretty shy too, so you being shy doesnt matter to him

But once you start getting more comfortable with him, and start opening up more, he notices that you aren't really all that shy, just kind of...yk...traumatized??

He is here for it though, and will do all the things with you

He'll get matching footie pj's with you, He'll get you your favorite childhood snack, you'll turn on your favorite cartoon and He'll help you make an awesome pillow fort

Or, if you prefer, a blanket coccoon for you to snuggle into while you watch your cartoons

He'll also get things that remind him of you

"Y/n i saw this squishmellow and thought of you! Also, i got you some more snacks in this new flavor we haven't tried"

Also, i feel like he'd be the one you go to if you wanna play any games

Lord knows that boy has too much energy for his own good

His favorite is hide and seek, but if you wanna play something else, he's fine with that too

I warn you though, he's very good at hide and seek...

Masky

Masky isn't terrible with kids, but he isn't the greatest

Teenagers are his favorite to babysit/watch, because he can just leave them alone for the most part, if they need anything, they know where to find him

So when you start to open up and show your more childish side, he is kind of taken aback

Not in a bad way, of course

Just shocked, is all

Mostly, he's just glad that you're finally opening up and being yourself

And i mean hey, if coloring in coloring books and eating fruit snacks makes you happy, then who is he to judge?

He won't partake in these activities himself, but if you wanna talk to him about it, then he's all ears

He'll show you his favorite cartoons he watched when he was a kid, he'll show you his favorite childhood snacks, and he'll tell you stories he picked up in his life

Like toby, he will also help you build a wonderful pillow fort

And tim, hes a real manly man, you know, good at building and hunting and stuff

So you KNOW that its gonna be less of a pillow fort and more of a pillow palace

Also, i feel like one of the creeps has a picture of him somewhere, all snuggled up into a pillow, nice and asleep inside your pillow fort while you watch tv

Its used as blackmail, of course

Hoodie

Hoodie loves kids

He's always wanted a kid of his own, he remembers vividly daydreaming about it as a little schoolboy

His occupation has put a bit of a hold on that dream, but the manor has plenty of children that are always begging to be played with

And so, it's probably no wonder you were drawn to him

He's just got such a good vibe, you know?

Like you know that you could tell him anything and he'd just smile and say "i think you should keep living your best life"

Like toby, he goes all out

He probably won't wear footie pj's but yk

He's not too terribly good at making pillow forts, but oh my god can he throw a tea party

And he'll let you do his hair and makeup too!

After his numerous tea parties with sally, he knows all the proper etiquette too

He'd also probably be the one on this list who'd spoil you the most

Literally just ask and he'll probably buy it/make it for you 😭

Eyeless Jack

From a medical standpoint he is very worried for you

His first reaction to you opening up was his eyes slightly widening and his thoughts going "good god who fucked up this kid??"

However, he understands that for a lot of people indulging in childhood interests is a coping mechanism that is very helpful

And it's not hurting you or anyone else, so why would he care?

He studies you intently

He won't actively indulge in your activities like everyone else

He mostly just sits somewhere close by and watches your behaviors

He wants to know what is normal for you and what isn't, that way if your mental health takesa negative turn, he can get on it as quickly as possible

The last thing they need is a kid having a mental breakdown

Maaaybe of you ask nicely he'll watch cartoons with you

Maybe

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kakushino · 6 months

Note

I’m scared to ask because like I never done this before-

Anyway 👀

Do you think you can make a head cannon thing (or whatever they are called. 🥲) about a male y/n meeting (tanjiro, rengoku, or zenitsu) for the first time but y/n had like major anger issues because of their past (mostly because of their father) and they like later at night they like tell them that their dad was a horrible person and just and soft for the first time to them.

It’s fine if ya don’t want to do it I won’t mind at all :)! But if u do thank you! :D

Tanjiro meeting reader with anger issues

Tanjiro would never judge anyone for their trauma.

Tags: mild violence mention, anger issues, GN! Reader, sfw

Masterlist

AN: I have to admit, this gave me some troubles to write, as I tend to forget "the bad" as a form of coping mechanism. Lots of thanks to A and G for beta-reading and their help in figuring this out! Thank you for your patience and for requesting this! I hope you like it!

The first time Tanjiro sees you, you split your knuckles punching a man much bigger than you. The wrath and distress practically oozing from you make his nose scrunch up a little, but the situation is dissolved before he can step closer to you. You disappear in the next second like vapor above a cooking broth. It makes him wonder who you are, and why you have so much anger in you.

The second time Tanjiro sees you, he actually meets you. Your form is tense as you administer meds to a few of the slayers resting in Butterfly estate. He vividly remembers the way you laid out that man on the streets…

One of the slayers says something he can’t hear but the next thing he knows, you’re pouring tea over that slayer’s head, much to his indignation. Yet again, the anger wafts from your figure as you stalk away, overpowering any other scent he might have caught on you.

Is there anxiety? Is there sadness? All he can smell is anger, and it makes his head spin.

The third time he sees you, you’re sitting on the engawa staring at your hands, callused from labor and fighting. An undercurrent of the previous negative emotions seemingly soaked into your clothing, yet your face is blank. He has to wonder, are you always on the edge? Or does he just happen to see you in such situations?

He feels compelled to sit beside you, and perhaps offer you an ear and a kind word.

Perhaps it is his openness and warmth, but you find yourself spilling your life story to him - how your past left a festering wound behind, and especially how your father created a deep chasm in your mind, heart, and soul. You tell him how you simply can’t keep calm when someone reminds you of the inadequacy and loneliness you always felt when under your father’s thumb, the shame and the distress fueling your fists, and you cannot hold back.

Tanjiro simply listens. He offers no judgment to your character, because anger is not what defines you, it never did. He understands the need to use it as a protection, a wall of defense when anything hits too close to home, he understands and he doesn’t blame you. He doesn’t know how it feels to be related to such a person, but he knows just how to comfort you.

He gives you his hand to hold, and reassures you, tells you that that man shouldn’t call himself a father, tells you that you will find happiness, and that’s one thing he will never experience. Karma is free, and it has its way of coming back around.

The warm embrace you share afterwards is the start of something great for you both, the stars being the only witness to your exchange.

dividers made by the amazing @benkeibear Network: @enchantedforest-network

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #tanjiro x reader #kamado tanjiro x reader #kamado tanjiro #tanjiro #tanjiro x you #tanjiro x y/n #demon slayer headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #tanjiro headcanons #kny headcanons #kny fanfic #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba fanfic #demon slayer fanfic

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undeadgayboynes · 7 months

Text

Jeffrey Combs characters datability tier list

With explanations; A to D, left to right

-Anton Mordrid

Pros: Literally the perfect man. Intelligent, honest, respects you, owns a bird. Communicative.

Cons: A landlord

-The guy from Cyclone (I don't care)

Pros: Very smart, respects your intelligence, will participate in your hobbies even if they don't align with his interests. Charismatic and flirty

Cons: Might die and leave you with the task of protecting a super weapon from the shadow government

-Crawford Tillingast

Pros: Earnest, hardworking, very sweet, intelligent. Will probably remember your birthday. Wears oversized sweaters you can steal

Cons: A pushover, really bad luck, probably not fully emotionally ready for a relationship

-Chaz

Pros: A dork and seemingly a wimp, but will actually surprisingly brave when necessary. Well dressed. Objectively very cute

Cons: Is named Chaz. Complains a good bit, kinda snippy. Infectious anxiety

-Andrew Paris

Pros: Fine as fuck yet highkey a dork, will tell you interesting facts about things. Does his best to be a gentleman

Cons: Kind of incompetent, impulsive. Won't set up boundaries with people trying to hit on him. Seems experienced, but I don't think he's ever touched a boob.

-Dr. Haggis

Pros: Strong morals and will do what he can to uphold them, able to keep a level head in difficult situations. Takes care of those around him. Respects you and takes what you say into serious consideration.

Cons: Lack of confidence, won't say what he means. Alcoholic and smoker with no sign of wanting to change, used as coping mechanism. Pessimistic

-John Riley

Pros: Puts on a brave face, optimistic, hard worker. Loves his family very deeply. Genuinely trying to fix his issues. Will make the right decision when push comes to shove.

Cons: Alcoholic in a way that endangers those around him. Wants conflict to resolve on its own, uncommunicative, will lie to you. When he slips, he slips hard. Has potential to be unfaithful

-Dinosaur Bob

Pros: Fun and carefree, will take you on the ride of your life. Cool mustache. Sees you as an equal

Cons: A bit TOO carefree, irresponsible and impulsive. Does a LOT of drugs and will probably try to get you to do them. Sociopathic and violent tendencies. No morals.

-Francisco

Pros: Confident. Will accept when he is genuinely wrong. Impartial party, focused on facts.

Cons: Literally no opinions of his own, will let awful things happen because an authority says it's fine. That haircut and those glasses. Extremely desensitized to violence. "Facts over feelings" motherfucker

-Shepard Lambrick

Pros: Sugar daddy, will buy you a lot of nice things and you'll definitely get in the will. Cool mustache. Doesn't let people disrespect you.

Cons: Sociopathic and violent tendencies, enjoys other's suffering. Manipulative. One percenter and proud of it. Pushes boundaries.

-Herbert West

Pros: Intelligent, passionate. Will give you gifts. Includes you in his hobbies. Does the 🥺 face

Cons: Will not listen to you nor respect your boundaries. Grand gestures instead of communication, love-bombing. Extremely jealous. Manipulative. Sociopathic and violent tendencies. Condescending, thinks he's better than everyone else, no respect for anything or anyone. Impulsive. Does the 🥺 face

-Milton Dammers

Pros: Passionate and hard working. Speaks his mind.

Cons: Will not listen to you, no ability to compromise. Probably smells bad, greasy hair. Aware of his faults and has no want to change. Obsessive. Probably into some weird shit

-John

Pros: Ridiculously hot, will rock your world. Will break rules with you, in a hot way. Makes you feel appreciated

Cons: Will suicide bait you, ridiculously manipulative. Will ghost you. Kisses a rat on the mouth. Your boundaries? Never heard of them. Will love bomb you and hold that above your head.

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hold-him-down · 10 months

Text

Not Ideal

TW: institutionalized slavery, the bladder control failure but it’s really not even like a MAIN part other than in concept, this is really rather wholesome if you ask me.

Notes: Takes place ~4 months in, so somewhere shortly after christmas.

✥ ✥ ✥

Leo sits on the floor in the corner of his room. Was it a good day? His brow pulls tight and he tries to sort out where he stands with things. Luke smiled, a handful of times actually, and Leo takes a moment to both appreciate the objectivity of the observation and the ridiculousness of this more recently adopted coping mechanism.

It was good. Nothing overtly bad had happened. He hadn’t had to grapple with the pangs of uncertainty that most of his days were dominated by. He jogged through the neighborhood (by himself), he sat at a park, he went to the library. He had found a sandwich shop and texted Luke to ask if he wanted to try it, and picked up their dinner.

By all metrics, it was a fine day. And still, long after the sun set and he excused himself to his room, he sits here, undeniably sad but unsure of its source.

Everything is in its place. He fights the urge to go check the kitchen, to make sure there isn’t anything missed.

He doesn’t, though. Instead he changes into pajamas, crawls into his bed, and waits for unconsciousness to lay its claim on him. Sleep doesn’t come easily though. His mind races, cycling through the ways he can do better, be better, survive better. He doesn’t know how much time passes, but his thoughts shift, and memories flood his consciousness. Seattle, his mother, his brother, his sister.

These thoughts rarely plague him, but when they do, their grip on him is unshakable. He isn’t aware of the exact moment that he falls asleep, only that he does, and when the nightmares hit him, they hit him harder than normal.

✥ ✥ ✥

Leo wakes sometime in the early morning hours to blackness, to a racing heart, to sweat covering every inch of him. For a moment, all he can do is gasp at breaths, remind himself where he is, who he is.

Almost instantly, he’s aware that something isn’t right, but his heart still beats wildly and he convinces himself the soaked bed is nothing more than sweat, that it’s okay, that nothing bad has happened. Except something bad has happened, and telling himself otherwise serves no intrinsic purpose.

He swallows, interrupting his inner thought work to grasp at the lion, to make sure it avoided direct damage. The bed, the blankets, his clothes, are soaked.

Leo presses his eyes shut, casting the lion aside, and a new kind of dread settles over him.

This is okay. This is fine. He can fix this, and Luke doesn’t need to know.

He scrambles to pull the bedding off the bed, stone silent except for the ragged breaths his chest still produces, and he thinks something of a prayer, and he knows as he does it it’s futile, but still he thinks, over and over, please let this be okay.

As he pulls the sheets from their place, he recognizes with certainty that there’s no chance it didn’t leak through, and for a single, suspended moment, he allows himself to hate everything that he’s become. He drops on his knees to the floor, pressing his face into the mattress (the clean part), covering his head with his hands. He wants to scream, but even if muffled as it would be, he runs the risk of waking Luke.

So instead, he takes a deep breath. He turns on his bedside lamp, the warm yellow glow stinging his eyes, and as he pulls the mattress pad from the mattress, he gauges the damage. It’s not that bad. He can deal with this. He’ll clean it up and Luke will never know.

“Okay.” His voice is soft, the mere possibility of waking Luke is a constant thrumming in the back of his mind, in direct conflict with his innate need to self-soothe. “This is okay.”

He stands then, stripping off his soiled underwear and t-shirt and throws them into the pile of urine-soaked fabric. He pulls on the first clean pair he can find and then squeezes his eyes shut, laying out the individual steps to make this okay.

The laundry. He gathers up the laundry, distantly aware of his shaking hands, and pads silently down the hall. Luke’s bedroom door is closed, but Leo is careful not to make a sound.

He’s as silent as he can be as he loads the washer, reading the instructions on the too-expensive sheets at least three times to make sure that he doesn’t cause any additional damage.

When he’s certain he’s gotten it right, he presses ‘start’ and straightens his back, bee-lining it for the pantry, where a wide array of cleaning supplies lives, untouched.

He moves deftly through the familiar apartment back to his room and scrubs vigorously at the mattress, bouncing between berating himself and pleading to no-one that it’s going to be okay. He startles at the sound of knocking, his fingers freeze in place and he, against every instinct to sink into the floor and under the area rug for the rest of his life, raises his eyes.

“Luke–” It whooshes out of him like a breath, and he swallows, forcibly dragging his eyes to meet Luke’s.

Luke’s eyebrows raise as he takes in the scene, Leo in his underwear, Leo panicking, Leo holding cleaning supplies at three a.m. Leo knows, above all else, that there’s no explaining it, and he starts to draw the words that he knows he needs to find.

“I… should I ask?” Luke’s mouth forms a half smile and Leo swallows again.

“I’m sorry,” comes Leo’s response. And then, because he can’t form any other words, he says, “I… I can fix this.”

“Leo…” Luke’s face is doing that thing it does, when he’s trying to pluck the perfect words out of the air, to quell Leo’s anxiety or to mitigate the risk of an absolute meltdown. “I’m certain, whatever it is, it is absolutely fixable.” There’s exhaustion in Luke’s voice and in his expression, and Leo, a deer in the headlights, shakes his head, sucks in a breath.

“I–” He swallows, his fists clenching and unclenching almost painfully. Just say it. There’s no easy way, there’s no right way, and it’s best to just lay it out. He huffs out a sound that edges somewhere between a choked off laugh and a sob, his shoulders dropping along with his eyes.

“Leo–”

“–I’m just. I’m just going to say it, okay?” Leo chances a glance at Luke, who regards him so carefully as he nods, encouraging. He feels… scared? In a way that is foreign to him. Not afraid of what Luke might do, but afraid instead of what Luke might think. Afraid that this is another piece of him, broken, that Luke will need to tiptoe around. Afraid, at his core, that this is another broken off chunk, and he’s closer still to being irreparable.

With one more big breath, he whispers, “I had an accident– I–” His eyes squeeze shut, and he can feel the shame rising to his face, and he wants to explain that he used to be able to function, that he could do this and he was fine and he was happy and he was healthy and people made him this way but he isn’t fundamentally broken (at least he doesn’t think so) and he can be fixed (at least he thinks so) but all that comes out is a slightly louder, slightly more solid, “I had a nightmare.” His hands are shaking and he forcefully stills them. “I, uh, I didn’t expect it–”

And since Luke doesn’t immediately interrupt with how okay everything is, the words tumble from Leo’s mouth. “I promise, if I had any– any– indication that it was going to be a bad night, I wouldn’t have let myself sleep that deeply. I just…” He can feel a trembling in his voice, but he doesn’t hear it, and he doesn’t chance a glance at Luke as he continues, “I… I didn’t know… that it was going to be a hard night. I’m so sorry,” he says, over and over.

He feels Luke’s hands on his shoulders, he feels Luke’s fingers in his hair, he lets himself be pulled in for a hug and he lets himself stop speaking, at least long enough to choose the words that will convey to Luke, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that this will not happen again.

“If I told you it was okay, would that mean anything to you?”

Leo nods, but he doesn’t know how much truth there is to it.

“Leo,” Luke says, in that tone that definitely means the big words are coming, and Leo needs to hear them. “This is so beyond ‘okay.’ This doesn’t even scratch the surface of a problem from my perspective, okay?” Luke pulls back enough to see his face, but Leo can’t make himself look. He nods.

“You put the sheets in the washer?”

Nods again.

“How can I help? Is there anything you need?”

Leo forces his eyes over the mattress, damp from, mostly, cleaning products. “I think it’s okay,” he says. “I think… it wasn’t a lot, that got through the mattress pad– I think it’s okay, but I–”

“Hey,” Luke interrupts him. “I’m certain that it’s fine.”

“Okay,” Leo says, although he doesn’t sound convincing, even to himself. “I think I’ll… I’ll move the sheets to the dryer and take a quick shower, if that’s okay?”

Ultimately, Luke convinces him to allow him to finish the laundry, which makes Leo’s heart ache worse, but he thinks he sufficiently camouflages the hurt under the tsunami of other emotions he’s projecting, and he sulks off to the shower, where he can’t stop himself from crying, if only just a little bit.

By the time he’s pulled himself completely together, the water has run cold, the sheets are folded on his dresser as the mattress starts to dry, and Luke sits with a mug of tea and a copy of Animal Farm, which Leo had checked out from the library the day earlier.

For a moment, Leo watches him, before taking a seat beside him, where there’s a second mug waiting for him.

Luke sets the book aside and regards him, expression maybe more guarded now, but also more alert.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, which is Leo’s least favorite and hardest to answer question.

“I’m okay. It was just…” Leo grabs the mug to occupy his hands. “I didn’t expect to have a hard night,” he says, by way of explanation.

“Can I ask you something?” Luke says then, and Leo holds his breath. “If you had known, you wouldn’t have slept?”

“I just… I’d have set alarms, to keep myself from…” He realizes he’s in dangerous territory before Luke’s expression shifts, but it’s too late. A sort of tension takes hold of him, but he only nods. “It’s just a way to get sleep but not sleep hard enough to cause trouble.”

“Okay,” Luke eventually says, after too long a pause. “I’d… rather you didn’t do that, though.” Quickly, he adds, “From a medical perspective, that’s not… ideal.”

He knows his next suggestion will not be taken well, but there’s a part of him that just needs to put it out there, and so he says, “What about if…”

Luke’s mouth is the flattest line, but still, Leo trudges on. “Maybe I could sleep on the floor? Just on the nights that I’m not sure?”

“Mm.” Luke says, taking a sip of his tea. He angles toward the window, his expression unreadable, and then says, “I– I don’t know what to do.” It’s the saddest he’s heard Luke’s voice in a long time.

Leo is preparing a big speech about how it’s easy, and the floor is comfortable, and he can bring blankets to the floor and he might even like it better there, and it’ll certainly help him sleep, knowing that he won’t destroy the mattress, and he could put a towel down too to help protect the wood if that would be better, and–

“I don’t think you should sleep on the floor, Leo.” Luke turns back to him, offering a half-hearted smile.

Before he can speak again, Leo says, “What if it happens again?”

“Then it happens again. I–”

“What if I ruin the mattress?”

Leo startles himself with the interruption, but Luke only says, “You won’t ruin the mattress.”

“What if I do?” he presses. “I can’t… I can’t afford to get a new one, I’m not worth–”

“Stop,” Luke says then. “Please.” Leo freezes momentarily, before taking a sip of his tea. “If the mattress is ruined, we can get a new one. If the mattress isn’t ruined, then it’s a non-issue. Either way, it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay.”

Leo nods. There’s no way Luke’s going to willingly allow him to sleep on the floor. So he says, “At the sites, the beds were covered in this plasticky material so they could clean them easily… Could we do that?”

“No,” comes Luke’s answer, easily now. It’s frustrating, having an actual argument with him. Luke seldom holds his ground, and Leo seldom pushes back, but he finds himself feeling… somehow different. It’s not entirely unpleasant, but it’s a feeling that he’s not accustomed to. He takes a breath, at the same time that Luke says, “Come here.”

Leo knows that it isn’t an order, but rather a check in. That Luke will maybe do the hair/forehead thing, and even in the midst of a bona-fide disagreement, he feels a little lighter. “Are you okay?” Luke asks then.

Leo nods. “I’m okay. I just… I know I won’t sleep, with this… this might be a thing. I don’t want you to have to deal with another one of my things. I’ll– I can make sure to clean up after myself, but I just… I know it’s going to be hard… for me to sleep… now.”

“Does it happen a lot?” Luke asks. “This is the first time since you’ve been here, right?”

Leo shakes his head. “Right,” he says. “Once in training, a couple of times in my last contract. It’s never been for any reason other than pure negligence though. The conditions were different then.”

Leo can almost see the gears turning in Luke’s head, can almost feel the moment he decides to ask the question, “Different how?”

And Leo, if prepared for nothing else, is always prepared to shake his head and say, “Just… different. I can’t really talk about it.”

“Right,” Luke whispers. “Can you…” Luke takes a breath, sips on his tea, then finishes. “Promise me, Leo, that instead of sleeping on the floor, instead of setting alarms to keep yourself awake… Can you just let me know? If you think you’re going to have a tough night? Even if there’s no reason for it, even if it’s just a feeling in your gut, just let me know you’re not comfortable falling asleep, and we can work through it together?”

Leo nods.

“What about the mattress?” he asks, sipping his own tea.

“I’m not worried about the mattress,” Luke replies. “I’m worried about you. I’m worried about what you do to yourself, what lengths you’ll go to to prevent this from happening again.” He smiles, nudging Leo’s shoulder playfully. “But if you’d like, maybe you can go to the store and get a...” he gestures vaguely, stumbling over the suggestion. It’s endearing, Leo thinks. “A waterproof mattress pad. Would that be okay?”

Leo nods, eager for a change in subject, and Luke lets it go.

✥ ✥ ✥

Leo wasn’t sure which option was scarier– Using Luke’s money explicitly for his own benefit, or risking another accident. He spends the day wandering around the neighborhood, he walks into the stores and finds what he’s looking for each time, but then walks out empty handed. He is aware of how tired he is, but he pushes himself to walk further, to jog, to sit at the park and watch the birds, to read. If he wears himself out, maybe he will sleep.

When he returns home, Luke is in his office. The bed has been made, and Leo doesn’t allow himself to think about Luke doing that. There’s a note on his dresser that reads:

Leo,

I’ll be in a meeting in the office until 9- I picked up a mattr I ordered pizza, should be here around 8. If you’re still awake, I thought maybe we could watch a movie. I picked up I stopped by the store on the way home and picked up a mattress topper for you, I hope that’s okay. It is not plasticky, but if it Please, don’t think any further of this. Unless you want to, or need to, I’m… happy to discuss it further. Just, not on my behalf Whatever you need here,

Sleep well,

Luke

FIGHTER TAG LIST: @whump-cravings, @afabulousmrtake, @crystalquartzwhump, @maracujatangerine, @pumpkin-spice-whump, @distinctlywhumpthing, @thecyrulik, @highwaywhump, @batfacedliar-yetagain, @finder-of-rings, @dont-touch-my-soup, @skyhawkwolf, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @also-finder-of-rings, @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump, @peachy-panic, @melancholy-in-the-morning, @urban-dark, @nicolepascaline, @quietly-by-myself, @pigeonwhumps, @whump-blog, @seasaltandcopper, @angstyaches, @i-msonotcreative, @mylifeisonthebookshelf, @anonintrovert, @whump-world, @squishablesunbeam, @considerablecolors, @whumpcereal, @whumperfully, @pirefyrelight, @whumpsday

#i've made the executive decision to post this without rereading it #bladder control issues #mostly wholesome content #light angst #institutionalized slavery #back to regularly scheduled program next

104 notes · View notes

jasntodds · 1 year

Text

Caving In [13]

Pairing: Gar Logan x Fem!Powered!Reader, Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader

Words: 13,401

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, I’m messing with the timeline a bit because I can lol, this is the only chapter that’s laid out like this, nightmares, mentions of death, Jason and reader do not have the healthiest coping mechanisms, mentions of burns, mentions of injures

Summary: ❝Tell me Atlas: What is heavier, The world or its people’s hearts?❞ You never expected your life to end up this way, turned upside down by an infamous Gotham villain. It’s been a living hell, every single day, until Dick Grayson brings you to Titans tower where you meet Gar Logan and Jason Todd.

A/N: I made a little bit of a mess but I fix a lot of it next chapter lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!!

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

Over the next two days, the three of you have been keeping your distance more from each other than usual. Gar is trying, of course, because he always tries to make sure everyone is okay. But, you and Jason aren’t feeling it. Jason has pretty much locked himself in the training room but Rose is keeping him company and you’ve been pacing from room to room here and there. You find yourself mostly in the room where all of the Titans used to keep their suits, the displays haunted of what used to be. And Gar lets you and Jason be, but he checks on you both every so often, offering a snack and something to drink. You might not want to talk, but both of you appreciate the effort. You alway take everything with a sweet smile while Jason reluctantly tells him to put them on a bench only for him to go for them as soon as Gar is gone.

You’re currently seated looking at the display that says “Robin” and you’re caught in your thoughts about everything. What could have been and what should have been. You didn’t have a big plan for your life. But, you thought you’d finish school and maybe you’d follow in your mom’s footsteps. But, you’d go out and you’d do things. You’d find a purpose in this life and it would be great. You’d have hard times because you can’t have the good without the bad, but you’d find a purpose and you’d be happy. You never expected all of this though. The fighting and the torture and the pain. The pain that bleeds and bleeds and bleeds. You think the wounds are turning into scabs but then the scabs fall off and there’s just more blood and pain. It’s just so hard and you swear it was never supposed to be this hard.

“Hey,” There’s a soft voice pulling your attention towards the hallway. “How’re you doing?” Kory has a soft smile as she walks into the room.

“I’m fine.” You give your the same smile and look back to the displays.

“We didn’t officially meet. I’m Kory.” Kory says as she sits down beside you.

“Y/n.” You nod once at her. “Heard a lot about you. Alien from Tamaran who’s a total badass.” You laugh softly, looking back to the display. “Very accurate. You can shoot fire which is, in fact, badass.”

Kory laughs softly. “Thank you.” She watches you who doesn’t crack another smile. You don’t know her but Dick is worried about you and Jason. Kory’s always been better about getting the younger Titans to talk. “Dick is pretty worried about you.”

You glance at her. “I was kidnapped, held captive again, tortured again, and almost murdered again. Yeah, I’d say that’s probably fair to worry.” You snip and then looks back to her and it’s kind of like talking to Gar. The kindness. “Sorry, uh, he shouldn’t worry, I’ll be fine.” You force a smile that should have been reassuring but lacked any sort of emotion.

Maybe you’re tired of always being fine. When your mom died, you never got to process that correctly. You were in a constant state of flight or fight living on the streets. In a way, it was nice because you never had to deal with that agonizing pain. And then you’d be fine. Then there was Jerry and you got to process that, and then you were gonna be fine. And now you’re here with all this new trauma, and you’re gonna be fine. You’ll always be fine but you’re tired of this routine.

In a weird way, being checked on, has the opposite effect that it should. Instead of making you feel better and loved and cared for, it makes you feel like you’re destroying a part of people’s lives. They’re worried about you and everyone should have bigger and better things to worry about. It puts this pressure on you to be fine. You don’t want to be fine anymore but if you crack, maybe you won’t ever recover from it. So, you keep your eyes on the Robin spot, wishing you had been smart enough to rob the Batmobile and get caught.

“Can I ask why you guys decided to go?” Kory asks, her brows knitted together.

You shrug, glancing to her before looking back to the Robin display. Everyone talks highly of Kory, even Jason. So, a part of you thinks you could tell Kory. At least at this point, you don’t really have a lot to lose. What is she gonna do? Tell Dick you and Jason just want to do something to help? And Dick’s gonna get mad? He’s already mad. It’s not like it matters very much.

“Jason,” You suck in a breath. “He just wanted to show Dick what he can do and I already fucked up and I figured that if we go with Gar, it shows initiative and responsibility because there were three us of against a fucking lightbulb. And if Jason got into some trouble, I could bail him out and maybe Dick would see that we’re…good enough, I guess? He already thinks Gar is.” You roll your eyes. “And Rachel is his lap dog.” You scoff and look to Kory who does not look like she likes that comment. “I like Rachel, to clarify, and I get why, but she is.”

“Dick knows you guys are all good enough. If he didn’t think so, none of you would be training to be Titans.”

“Yeah, but we’re just stuck here. I’ve been here for almost three months and we’ve done nothing. Jason, Gar, and Rachel have been here for four and you guys did all that other stuff. Jason is literally Robin for fuck’s sake,” You feel yourself getting mad. “What more does he want?”

“He just doesn’t want any of you to get hurt. I’m sorry, but you and Jason did get hurt.” Kory tries to reason with you and you know she’s probably right.

“Yeah.” You nod your head. “I guess.” You hang your head. “Thanks, by the way, for saving my life.”

“Of course.” Kory’s voice is so soft and gentle with the words. “Rachel’s told me a lot about you.” Kory changes the subject, getting the idea you don’t want to continue the conversation. She gains your full attention with the comment. “She said you’re really good with the fighting and knives.” Kory says and you smile softly. “She also said you’ve been a good friend to her since you’ve been here and she enjoys having you around.”

“Really?” You raise a brow. “I kind of thought she was annoyed by me, sometimes anyway, I spend a lot of time with the boys.”

“She also said that.” Kory laughs. “But, yeah, she said you’re good to talk to and you have her back with Jason a lot of the times. Gar plays Switzerland?”

“Yeah, he’s pretty neutral when it comes to them.” You laugh. “Jason can be….a little….harsh sometimes.” You let out a breath. “Rachel’s a good friend, too though.”

Kory gives you a sweet smile. “Well, you guys could talk. She’s going through some stuff, maybe it’ll help.”

“You and Gar always about the talking.” You let out a half-sigh, half-chuckle. “Yeah, maybe.” Your brows furrow. “Wait, what’s going on with her?”

“Probably best if she tells you.”

“Ah.” You nod once.

“Be careful, though, okay? From what I’ve heard, you’re a good kid. Last night was scary,” You eye Kory softly. “Maybe, don’t listen to Jason so much.” Kory laughs softly and you nod. “Dick is just trying to protect you guys.”

“Yeah, I know.” You chew the inside of your cheek. “I’m an asshole to him but… that’s because he makes it easy.” You let out a breath as Kory goes to get up. “Hey, Kory?” Kory turns to look at you. “It’s okay that I’m mad at him though, right? Dick, I mean.”

“For what?”

“Not saving me.” You state cautiously. “I get it, I-I do. But, I’m mad anyway.”

Kory nods with understanding. “Yeah, it’s okay. He’s mad at you guys, too.”

“He is always mad at least one of us.” You chortle.

“Don’t be too hard on him, though. He’s doing his best.”

“Yeah,” You nod. “Thank you.” You smile softly at Kory as just Dick comes into view.

“If you want to talk, come find me, okay?”

“I will, thank you.” You nod and look back to the display while Kory leaves.

When you asked about how Bruce was as a parent, Dick said Bruce did his best. Now, Kory is saying that Dick is doing his best. It’s what you thought. It’s a thing people say when that person isn’t going a good job but it’s supposedly their best. It’s the best they can do but it needs to be better. This was your fault and you know that. But, had Dick done a better of job of communicating the urgency of you staying behind or asking you and Jason for help, had he just let Jason help with anything, it would have been different.

Dick is really good at training all of you. He was Robin so of course he’s good at it. But, when it comes to the communication side of everything, he’s horrible at it. Anyone who has a ten-minute conversation with Jason about Robin, can figure out that it’s the most important thing to him. Then, if they just look at his upbringing which Dick does know, it’s not that hard to figure out it’s because Jason just wants to be good enough. Dick’s best is not good enough. You like him, but you think maybe he needs to try a little harder.

“I am fine, you don’t have to worry. It’s our fault. It was fucking stupid.” You ramble things off in a monotone voice as Dick takes a seat next to you. “It was really fucking stupid. We could have been killed, could have gotten everyone else killed. We can’t go rogue like that because you have rules.” You squint your eyes slightly before looking up at Dick. “Did I forget anything?”

The softest chuckle escapes Dick as he shakes his head with raised brows. “No, I think you got it all.”

You nod solemnly. “Yeah.” You let out a deep sigh. “You can still lecture if you want though.”

“Do you…do you want me to lecture you?” Dick laughs, confused by the comment.

“I mean no,” You scoff. “I deserve it though.” You hang your head.

“Okay, yeah, it was stupid.” Dick nods his head and decides not to lecture, but to ask. “You could have been killed, you and Jason almost were killed. What were you thinking?”

“I’m not speaking for Jason, if you can’t figure that out by now, that’s your own fucking problem, Dickolas. As for me though,” You look forward again. “Just wanted to prove I’m good enough and useful, I guess.”

“You are good enough and useful.”

“Mhm, but uh, doesn’t feel like it here. I mean, okay, sure Jerry was a bad idea. I acknowledge that and I apologized for it but,” You hold up a finger. “Had I not gone, he might still be torturing another fucking kid or worse. So,” You shrug. “Wasn’t too bad of an idea, right? And not once, did it ever feel like it because you were always so hung up on us going rogue. Not, the good part of that. Lecture, us, sure we deserve it. But, positive reinforcement tends to work better, statically.”

Dick nods his head. “You did save that kid that night, you and Jason. Jason calling me was the right thing to do.”

“See, not that hard.”

Dick pauses for a few seconds, trying his best to find some positive out of last night. How is he supposed to find something positive in that? He’s not even good at it. Bruce was not the positive reinforcement type.

“Well, thanks to you guys, we know Dr. Light was working with Deathstroke.” Dick states, deciding that’s about as good as it’s gonna get.

You let out a booming laugh. Of course, that’s what he’s going to pick to focus on. It almost hurts. “Okay, uh, me and Jason stuck together, came up with a plan to escape, we did have Gar, and you went to finding out Deathstroke was around. That tracks.”

“It’s true.” Dick defends.

“Oh, no, it is. I just find it funny. Yeah, guess that’s true.” You roll your eyes. “You know, we defended each other...like the whole time.” You eye him slightly. “Worked together, that’s a good thing.”

“Look, I know you guys….care….” Dick treads lightly, not liking that aspect of the conversation and you eye him with confusion and hesitance, unsure of where the hell he could possibly be going with this. “About each other.”

“You look like you’re gonna puke, dude.”

“I don’t do those talks.”

“You literally do not have to.” You let out a scoff.

The last possible thing you want to talk about is that, with anyone, but especially with Dick. You might get it, understand it, and agree with the reasoning Jason has. You have your own reasoning why it shouldn’t happen. But, it doesn’t make it hurt any less on top of the other night. You’d like to go back to living in oblivion. But, is does not look like Dick is gonna let it rest.

“I do, you and Jason are my responsibility.” Dick states. “But, the two of you following each other like the other night and with Jerry, even if that did not end poorly, can be bad. I’ve seen it.” Dick confesses but doesn’t give further details. “I’m just warning you to be careful.”

“I…I…r…okay. Uh, I am my own person and so is Jason. I mean, I could have talked him out of it, and didn’t. Honestly, if it weren’t for him, I still probably would have had the idea. The only difference is Gar would have been able to talk me out of it.”

“You’re proving my point. The two of you need someone who can be the reason of logic.” Dick’s expression turns harsh.

You want to fight back but you’re too tired. It’s exhausting. “Ah….” You nod your slowly. “Yeah, probably.” You sigh. “We are friends, by the way. We discussed it. It’s fine. You don’t have to worry, Dick.” You offer him a sad smile.

“I don’t think you’ve ever called me Dick without being sarcastic.” There's a hint of worry in his voice with the remark.

The more he talks to you and Jason, the more worried he gets about you both. Jason is more snippy than usual, taking the blame, putting the entire night on his shoulders. He won't stop training even when Dick tells him to rest. You, you aren't even putting up a front which Dick has only known you to do. You’re not telling him it was your idea. You’re being understanding. This is not gonna be good.

“Yeah, well, sometimes you happen to right about things. Not often, but sometimes.”

“Are you going to start listening to me then?” Dick chuckles.

“Oh, Dickolas,” You put a hand on his shoulder. “Absolutely fucking not. I will, probably, be more inclined to listen about not going rogue though. Did learn a lesson from the other night.”

“Learn anything else by chance?”

“Yeah, men are shitty who target people because of some weird ass vendetta against someone else which is fucked up. Oh, I would die for Jason and he would do the same for me. Combat clairvoyance is also super fucking cool when I'm not the one being attacked. Jason, literally, cannot shut the fuck up. Hank is surprising protective. Deathstroke fucking SUCKS. Dr. Light was a wimp.” You let out a scoff at Dr. Light’s name.

“W-what do you mean about your combat clairvoyance?” Dick blinks at you, not even sure he wants to unpack any of that.

“Oh, yeah, felt the throbbing and then it stopped. Deathstroke went after Jason but I turned before he could do anything. Pretty neat, right?” You raise your brows at Dick.

Dick chuckles softly. “Yeah, that’s cool.” Dick pauses for a few seconds as you look back to the Robin display, your eyes go distant. Dick clears his throat. “Can I ask what happened?”

“Uh…like…?”

“How you guys were kidnapped? What all happened? Any of it might be useful in finding Deathstroke.”

“Oh, um….Jason got Dr. Light down. It was going pretty well, actually. Jason didn’t need my help, really. At the beginning, I stepped in, but he was fine after that. I was watching and then the throbbing started and I went to turn around and Deathstroke was there with the sword. Dr. Light started laughing so Jason stopped. That’s when they attacked us, knocked us out, and brought us to a basement.” Sam shakes her head, furrowing her brows. “I don’t know, uh, at some point I guess he took care of Dr. Light. He went on a villain speech rant thing. Very dramatic. Something about you roping us in to get killed or whatever. He forced us to the roof and you know the rest.” You skimp on the details of the night. It might be helpful, maybe. But, you don't think giving Dick the detail of Deathstroke beating up you and Jason will be helpful. You’re reliving it enough without saying it out loud. And you really don't remember much of his speech, just that is was all Dick's fault.

Dick nods. “Thank you.” Dick sighs. “I’m sorry that happened to you guys.”

“Well, we are both nothing if not resilient, right? We’ll recover eventually…right?” You look at Dick and this time, there’s an actual sense of worry in your eyes.

“Yeah, of course you will.” Dick offers a soft smile. “Well, don’t pull that shit again.”

“Yes, sir.” You give him a thumbs-up.

“Maybe listen to Gar more, too, both of you.”

“Mhm, noted.” You scoff. “Kory’s cool, you should like….do something about that.” You’re tired of this conversation and you know this will get Dick to stop.

Dick’s voice contorts as you try to hold back a grin. “You’re not funny.” Dick sighs as he gets up.

“I’m fucking hilarious. It’s true though, like seriously, lecture me about Jason but you’re not like……..with her??? Dude, she’s hot, a total badass, came to fight Deathstroke with you. SAVED ME. AND SHE’S NICE??????? Seriously, man. Get it the fuck together.”

“Okay, I’m done here. If you want to talk about the other night, let me know.”

“Will do.” You salute him sarcastically before he heads out.

Dick is trying to help and maybe if you were in a better place mentally, you would appreciate it. But, you find yourself annoyed by it. He just does not get it and it feels like he doesn't even want to try. Sure, he's worried and he cares about the both of you but he's so bad at communicating it and understanding. It's difficult to open up and actually have a conversation about anything. It's frustrating and you know it does not help that you’re mad at him. So, you’re glad to be left alone where you can sit and let the guilt cloud your mind.

The night goes on and within two hours of falling asleep, you wake from a nightmare. This time it's not about Jerry which is not even a bit relieving. You thought maybe a change in pace of nightmares might be a little better. At least it's not about you getting tortured but you were wrong. Somehow, your new nightmare is worse than the Jerry nightmares. And normally, you'd go to Gar because he always makes you feel better but you can't find yourself able to do that. Not right now.

You woke him last night from a nightmare and this time would be the same. You'd go into his room, wake him up, he'd turn on the light, and you'd talk. Gar would ask about he nightmare and give you this look you can't say no to. But, the idea of telling Gar about this one, feels so wrong. And there's a part of you that thinks maybe you should suffer alone tonight. You’ve already made Gar and Jason suffer enough, it's your turn. You don't have to sleep tonight and that's fine with you. So, you turn on a movie that'll hold your attention just enough to keep you awake.

Twenty minutes later, you’re engaged enough in your movie but there's a knock at your door. For a second, you pause. You almost think you’re imagining the noise as you check the time on your phone seeing it read 3 am. You wonder if you’re imagining it because no one comes to your room this late but then the knocking continues and you decide to get up, just to check.

You gets up and walk to the door. Your hands shake slightly and you reach up to the doorknob. You suck in a deep breath and twist the knob. Deathstroke wouldn't knock.

"Jay?" You shake your head at the sight of Jason in a black t-shirt and matching shorts, his hair disheveled.

"Uh....hey." Jason sucks in a breath and you swear he actually looks...timid.

"Nightmare?" You let your voice go casual.

Jason said he'd come to you and he isn't going to let that be a lie. He figures going to you would probably be a little better than going back to the training room and having Dick find out, then badger him again. Plus, you do make him feel better. If anyone is gonna get it and not ask too many questions or think less of him for it, it'll be you.

Jason nods. "Yep." He let out a dry and straggled chuckle. "Can't sleep, ya know?" He dodges your eyes.

"Well," You offer him a sad smile as you open the door more. "Come in, then." You step aside to allow Jason inside. "You can have the side closest to the window." You state as you start the walk back to your bed while Jason shuts the door.

"Offering your bed, huh?" Jason quips.

"Well, I'm not gonna let you sleep on the floor." Your eyes widen as you sit back down.

Jason can't help the smirk that pulls at his lips. "Still hitting on me, huh?"

"You fucking wish." You let out a soft laugh. "Just can't help it, can you?"

Jason laughs softly. "Reflex, I guess."

"Mhm." You roll your eyes as Jason makes his way over to the side near the windows.

Jason gets into bed and he doesn't know how he wanted this to go. All he knows is that he doesn't want to be alone right now. He's been intentionally keeping his distance from you during the day. It seems easier that way. It's easier for him to let the guilt take over. It's easier to ignore the burning in his chest. But, you’re the only one that he can talk to or not talk to. You let him exist in ways that no one else has ever let him before.

You let out a breath and lay down. "Wanna talk about it?" You turn to face him, holding your head up with your palm.

"Fuck no." Jason lets out a scoff and follows your lead, mimicking the position.

You might have asked him to come to you, figuring he’d end up with nightmares. But, you never expected him to actually do it. You’re glad he did but you didn’t think he’d do it, especially after your discussion about the kiss. Maybe that’s what’s making this feel a little bit more difficult than usual. It hurts to be close to him and you actually hate that it does. But, you’ll never tell him that. As his friend, as the one person he trusts, it’s your job to make sure he’s okay and to suck it up.

"You okay?" You furrow your brows and Jason's eyes glance between your black eye and the cut on your lip.

"You gonna bug me until I talk about it?" Jason quips.

You laugh softly. "No, but, I want to." You let out a breath. "I also had a nightmare, that's why I'm even awake."

You want him to be okay more than anything. You suffering is fine. One day, you'll move on from it, get over it because you always do. As tiring as it is, you'll get over it. It's him you’re worried about. You care about him so much that it physically hurts. And you'll try everything you can to make sure he'll always be okay.

"What was yours about?" Jason asks, glancing to your bandaged hand holding up your head.

You smile and click your tongue because this what you do. The "show me yours and I'll show you mine" game. It works for you both though. If one of you is exposed, then so is the other. The both of you allowing each other to bare your scars and wounds, allowing each other to just bleed while the other joins you is so comforting. It makes it so much easier to bandage those wounds.

You let out a sigh. "You die." Your words are low and shallow but pained and you look to the TV.

"That's what your nightmare was about?" Jason huffs, almost a little too loudly. He can't believe that's what's keeping you up at night. The fear of him dying.

You shrug a shoulder. "Like I said, you're really important to me, Jay." You feel the ache in your chest return. The thought of losing him is paralyzing. "I was where Dick was, I grabbed your hand but you slipped and I couldn't save you. I woke up before you finished falling."

Jason's heart breaks hearing that. He lived it. It was real to him but you didn't even see it. He's so thankful you didn't see him fall, see the fear on his face that he's sure would scar you further.

"Dick didn't try to save me." Jason confesses, looking up the ceiling. "The bomb goes off and I just...fall." Jason shrugs, looking back to you. "Flying guy didn't come."

You cautiously put your free hand on top of Jason's free hand. The gesture alone warms something deep inside the darkest parts of Jason's mind. "Ya know, nightmares are fucking shitty. They, uh, they just play your worst fears for you in a time of vulnerability." You state and Jason keeps his stare on you, wondering where you’re going with this. "But, reality is that Dick tried to save you. Flying guy did save you. I was out there with you." You suck in a breath and let it out slowly, Jason's hand warm under yours. "And in reality, any other time, I'd save you from falling every single time or I'd follow you right to the ground if that's what it took to save you."

"I wouldn't let you." Jason shakes his head, his voice soft but defensive. "I wouldn't let you fucking die for me."

"I know." You nod your head. "But, uh, you don't control me so you're just gonna have to deal with it." You give him a cheeky smirk and something about it makes Jason not feel so broken.

"You always gonna be trying to take care of me?" Jason gains this devilish smirk that makes you laugh quietly.

"You gonna let me, Jay?" You raise the question, matching the smirk.

Jason laughs softly and he can't have this conversation. It's not fair. So, he deflects. "He talk to you, yet?" Jason asks. "Dick."

"Mhm." You roll your eyes. "I lectured myself so I wouldn't be lectured by him."

Jason chuckles quietly. There's something so warm about his smile when he finds something comical. "You lectured yourself?"

"Didn't want to hear it from him, knew what he was gonna say." You laugh quietly. "Don't do that again." You mock Dick's voice poorly. "It was stupid, you need to think because you do that stuff." You roll your eyes. "You?"

"Oh, yeah." Jason scoffs. "It's not your fault, but you should have thought that through. Bruce trained you better than that and if you have to trust me there's a reason we weren't looping you in. I'm just asking for you to trust me." Jason mocks Dick much better than you. "So fucking annoying."

"Ya know, at least he gives a fuck, I guess." You raise your brows before rolling your eyes.

"You think he gives a fuck about any of us?" Jason's eyes widen, the very corner of the right side of his mouth twitching up.

"You don't?" You raise a brow. "Hey, look, it was your hand he grabbed."

"Obligation to Bruce." Jason's voice falls flat.

The comment hurts. He can't possibly believe that's the only reason Dick saved him. Dick is really bad at communicating and showing that he cares like normal people. But, he was raised by Batman who turned Dick's grief into a weapon. Of course, he's bad at it. To you though, it's still clear that he cares even when he's really bad at showing it. If he didn't care, he would not lecture either of you about being stupid and reckless. He'd let you get yourselves killed. Obligation to Bruce or not.

You shake your head. "Do you really believe that, Jay?"

Jason shrugs. "No, but he doesn't seem to like me much."

Deep down he doesn't think it was an obligation to Bruce. But, he does know that taking him in to be a Titan is. Dick didn't want his help in Chicago. No one wanted his help with Trigon until they couldn't get Bruce to help and even then, he wasn't really wanted. Jason is Dick's responsibility, it doesn't matter how Dick handles it because it's still a favor for Bruce. And maybe that stings a little.

"Okay, but I don't think that's always true." Your voice is quiet.

"How the fuck do you figure?" Jason scoffs.

"Well, I mean, he does look out for you. He does let you help us train. You two do get along often enough. He drives you insane and we both drive him insane. Like it or not, you two are brothers...in a roundabout kind of way. You act like it. Like, remember when we hooked up speakers to blare the SpongeBob theme song through Dick's room at four am?"

Jason starts laughing, he almost can’t get the words out. "He was so mad."

"He was." You gush. "But, he also thought it was funny and really appreciated us going to bed early so we could be awake at three in the morning to pull it off."

"And then he got us back." Jason sighs. "Shut off the fucking hot water--"

"Mid shower." You almost yell. "Asshole." You and Jason laugh quietly. "Hey, look, if he hated you, he would not tolerate it all. Gar said you would do that shit to him before I got here. So, I don't know what his issue is but I don't think he hates you." You pause for a few seconds. "Honestly, I think the only one that hates you is Rachel which is a problem between the two of you."

"Didn't everyone warn you about me?" Jason moves his hand on top of yours and your heart nearly jumps out of your chest.

"Yeah, but it wasn't...like...bad. It was just 'oh, you get used to him' which, by the way, was very true. I think most people take getting used to."

"You really like kissing my ass." Jason chortles, starting to feel like this spotlight is following him around a stage.

"I do not." You state. "But, sometimes, I think you need to hear that you're important."

Jason does need to hear it. No one has ever told him he's important. His parents definitely never did. Bruce hasn't. No one who's ever tried to help him has. Even when people do show they care about him, he's never been told he's important and it is something he needs to hear, even if he doesn't always want to believe it. At least he's important to you.

"Yeah?" Jason nods his head once at you. If you’re going to expose him, he gets to expose you. It's what you do and it works. "What do you need to hear then?"

"Defeats the purpose if I tell you, Jay." You chuckle.

Jason pauses because similar to you, he knows what you need to hear to. He doesn't know about your breakdown. Not the dirty details of it. Gar, naturally, told him a bit of it because he's worried, too. Jason pays attention just as much as Gar does, he just doesn't show it often or in the same ways.

"You deserve to be taken care of, instead of taking care of other people." Jason's fingertips tap the top of your hand.

Your brows furrow as your heart stops. "What? I mean...what do you mean?"

"Looking over me, get the feeling you always do that. Look after other people that you care about and no one was there to look after you. I don't know, you deserve to be taken care of."

"I am, uh, not always easy to be taken care of." You clear your throat. "My best friend kind of tried, ya know? But uh..." You let out a breath. "I can do this on my own attitude."

"Look at who you're talking to, babe." Jason chuckles. "Yeah, so you should let someone take care of you because you deserve a break."

In another world, you quip back and ask if he'll be the one taking care of you. And he'd get this grin that always makes you feel like the world isn't out to get you, then dodge it. In another world, the conversation would be had and things would be different. Better maybe, less painful. But, you live in this one where you had the conversation already. Even saying it sarcastically, puts too much pressure on that. So, you bite back the comment that should have been.

"Thank you, Jay." You look down to your hands.

You don't know it, but Jason knows he'll always take care of you. It doesn't matter about him and Rose or you and Gar because someone has to take care of you, always. He gets you better than anyone so he'll do everything in his power to take care of you, even if it's from afar. He's important to you, but you’re also one of the most important people in his life.

"What're you watching?" Jason looks to the TV, seeing a black dragon try to fly but falling into the water.

"How To Train Your Dragon." You snicker softly. "It's Dreamworks."

"Never seen it." Jason laughs softly, knowing that'll get a reaction out of you.

"How have you never seen this movie? It's like one of the best film trilogies ever made." You whisper-yell at him with wide eyes.

Jason laughs again. "I don't watch a lot of movies. Why are you always so surprised?" Jason continues to laugh and he loves getting a rise out of you even over movies. "There's three?"

"Mhm, and all three of them are flawless."

"What's it about?" Jason asks, there's a softness in the smirk he's daunting.

"Hiccup is a Viking and it's a world where dragons exist but the Vikings hunt down the dragons thinking they're evil monsters. But, Hiccup isn't good at killing and he's interested in the dragons so he meets Toothless and he learns about dragons through Toothless. And he finds out that dragons aren't evil, they're just scared of humans because they're being hunted." You explain the movie with as much excitement as you can without getting too loud and Jason rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, not even realizing he's doing it.

"That sounds kind of cool, actually." Jason looks back to the TV as Hiccup gets the two-headed dragon back into the cage.

"It's sick, Jay. You gotta watch em all." You keep your eyes on the TV and the act of Jason rubbing the back of her hand makes you feel so at home.

"Yeah, maybe." Jason huffs softly, a sweet smile pulling at his lips as he turns so he's flat on his back. He props his head up with his right arm so he can watch the movie.

Jason glances over at you as you mimic his position. He sucks in a breath and extends his arm toward you. You raise a brow and he gestures his arm towards himself and back to you. You gain a smirk as you move closer to him.

"Uh-huh, still hitting on me, huh?" You let out the cutest laugh Jason has ever heard as your nose scrunches.

"Yeah, you fucking wish." Jason chuckles while you make yourself comfortable on his chest. "Just can't help it?" Jason quips looking down at you.

"Maybe it is a reflex." You smile against him with your voice light and airy, Jason's arm wraps around you and his hand rest on your waist.

The two of you go quiet as you watch the movie. It feels safe, wrapped in each other with a comfort movie playing. The nightmares might haunt you both but at least you're safe in this room together. You both might be scarred and traumatized, but when you're with each other, despite everything, it doesn't feel like you are. It's so casual and comfortable. It's easy together and the world doesn't feel so heavy anymore.

The next morning rolls around and you wake up alone. Jason woke up an hour before and he figured he'd go back to the new routine. Standing in his room, training, and hanging out with Rose. You made him feel better last night and it's great but he can't wake up to you because that makes it harder. It makes the whole thing with Deathstroke and choosing Rose harder. It shouldn't but it does. He knows it's all for the best but it hurts anyway. So, you wake alone and if you wanted to be honest, it's not all that surprising. You’re kind of happy about it because now you don't have to deal with that weird awkwardness that happens when you wake up together. That's too complicated to deal with right now.

You make your way to the kitchen where Gar is eating breakfast and Donna is sitting in the living room with Dawn. You offer Gar a tired but kind smile as you sit next to him.

"Good morning." Gar chimes.

"Morning." You nod your head once at him.

"How'd you sleep?" Gar's smile is so kind and sweet.

"Uh...didn't sleep much." You let out a sigh. "Nightmare, it's fine. Um...don't tell Jason I told you but he had one, too and came to my room. So, I wasn't alone and it's fine. Honest." You state and Gar isn't sure if you’re trying to convince him or yourself.

"You sure?" Gar questions and his expression switches to worry.

"Yeah, it's fine. Hey, um," You perk up, trying to look more alive. "Wanna play video games today? Your pick."

"Sure, yeah." Gar nods softly at you and decides not to push.

It feels a little wrong to you. Nothing happened, just like last time but it feels like something did anyway. It feels wrong and you can't tell him any of it because it's too much. You don't want him to know all of it. So, now you just feel like you’re lying even though you’re not.

It'll get easier, that's what you tell yourself. The more days that go by, it'll get easier because you’re also picking Gar. He's kind and good. Jason told you you deserve to be taken care of and Gar is really good at taking care of people. You like him and you swear you do. So, you swear you'll put more effort into him.

That night, you wake up from another nightmare. This one was a little different than the night before. This time, Deathstroke was actually there. He held the sword to your back and threatened you until you pushed the button of the detonator to make Jason fall. It was your life or his and Deathstroke was making you decide. Pain started right in your back because you refused to press the button as Jason was yelling at the glass, begging you not to press the button. But, you do anyway. And then you woke up.

Your heart is beating in your chest and tears sting the back of your eyes. You know it wasn't real because Jason was saved. You were out there with Jason. You knows it wasn't real but something about it felt real. It felt horrifying and you swear you can feel the pain in your back as you’re awake. It's almost paralyzing and normally, you go to Gar. But, this dream was about you making the decision to let yourself die or kill Jason. So, you get up and walk to the left instead of right and go to Jason's room.

"Can't sleep?" Jason asks as he opens the door.

"Nightmare." You nod, shifting your weight from your toes to your heels.

Jason nods and lets you inside. He can't sleep either. If he sleeps, he has a nightmare. If he has a nightmare, he can't fall back asleep for a few hours anyway. When he's awake, he feels like he's still falling. When he's alone, that's all he can see. Windows falling past him and his limbs feel limp. What's the point of sleeping when his nightmares are just his reality anyway? So, he decided not to sleep tonight.

"Thought you go to Gar when you have a nightmare?" Jason asks and he's more or less a big fan of self-sabotage.

"I said I'd come to you." You state. "Unless you want me to leave cause--"

"No." Jason cuts you off. "You don't have to."

You gain a tired smirk. "Exactly."

“Did you wanna talk about it?” Jason asks, leaning against the table near the door.

You shrug. “You gonna tell me why you’re awake?” Your eyes narrow slightly. Jason always has a look like an annoyed beagle when he’s just woken up. He does not look like that right now. Jason gestures a hand out as he tilts his head to the right. “Deathstroke, it was either I push the button to kill you or he kills me.”

Jason lets out a breath and dodges your face. It’s not fair you’re having nightmares about him. You don’t deserve it. And he doesn’t even know how he’s supposed to make you feel better about it because it’s his fault it’s even happening. They’re about him and he lived but that doesn’t matter because it’s happening to you anyway and it’s not fair.

“I pushed it.” You clear your throat and skimp on further details about it.

“Well, that’s bullshit.” Jason scoffs and offers you a smirk. “Deathstroke wouldn’t be able to get you to do shit like that.”

“Yeah, I know.” You chuckle softly and shake your head.

“You okay?” Jason drops the smirk and lets worry seep into his voice.

“Yeah,” You furrow your brows, looking to the ground and back to him. “Just...ya know, tired.” You scoff.

Jason shrugs. "Wanna train?"

You shake your head, taken aback. "I am saying this because I care about you," You watch him carefully. "I'm really fucking worried about you."

"I'm fine!" Jason defends and he's got that grin that you’ve learned means trouble. "Really, I said we could train if you can't sleep."

"Right, yeah, but it's two in the morning and you're still limping, Jay." You lack any form of banter or smile this time. "Notice, Dick didn't have training sessions for us today. There's a reason for that. You also did not tell me why you’re awake."

"You on his side, huh?" Jason scoffs looking the side and back to you.

"No, Jason." You roll your eyes. "But, you're hurt and awake at two in the fucking morning. You wanna train. Last time, you offered to read instead of train. I'm worried about you."

Jason steps forward and puts his hands on your shoulders. "I'm fine, Y/n. You're turning into Gar, you know that?"

You let out a sigh, looking at Jason. His lip still cut and a bruise still dawns the right side of his cheek. "I'm not turning into Gar but I don't believe for a second that you're fine."

Jason drops his hands and lets out a scoff. "Did you wanna fucking argue about how I'm feeling at two in the morning?"

You pause. "No." You say softly and you’re watching him, his hands are shaking at his sides. "Actually, yeah I fucking do." You straighten your stance. "Why do you have such a fucking problem with me trying to help you?" This is not the usual conversation you both have but you’re tired and scared of losing him. The nightmare felt too real.

The question catches him off guard. Jason takes a step back but he's ready to go. "If it's so fucking hard, then stop."

Your eyes narrow before you roll them and walk up to him, mimicking his actions from seconds earlier. You place your hands on both of his shoulders. "No, you don't get to do that, not with me." You shake your head. "It's not hard but you have an issue with it for some reason. Regardless of what comes out of your mouth, I'll always care about you and I'll always look out for you. But, what is it about me caring about you that you don't seem to have an issue with?"

Jason shakes his head. "I don't have a fucking problem with it, alright?"

Jason and self-sabotage go hand-in-hand but, you don’t back down. You call his bluff every single time. And telling you things to push you away is only going to hurt you more. Jason, for the first time, has to push the sabotaging away, just slightly. For your sake.

"Then what it is?" You drop your hands and crosses your arms.

Jason looks away from you. "Everyone who's ever given a fuck about me, gives up. You said you won't but everyone does." Jason lets out a dry chuckle that nearly shatters you. He's not having this conversation. He looks back to you, throwing his arms out casually. "Look, I'm fine, alright? It's not a thing."

"What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not them?" You ask. "Your hands are shaking."

Jason shakes his head and he knows what. He wants to tell you, despite what he said about the kiss, to tell him he’s an idiot and you wanna be with him anyway. But, that's not fair to any of you because you shouldn't have to prove it to him. Jason should just believe you because of everything that's happened so far. A part of him does believe you, it's hard for him and Jason swears it always will be. So, he brushes it off.

"Nothing, alright? It's fine, we're fine. It's good. I'm fine." Jason assures you and you can see the brokenness in his eyes. "Come on, come train with me." Jason jerks his head towards the door. "I'll read to you after."

You hang your head and this boy, he's gonna be the death of you. You’re so sure of that. You’re worried about him. You’re more worried about him than you are about anyone else. But, you try to swallow it because it's only been a few days. It takes time and if anyone knows that, it's you.

"You'll read to me again?" You raise your brows.

"Yeah, of course." Jason smirks at you.

"Yeah, okay fine. You've convinced me." You roll your eyes and walk towards the door. There’s no fighting Jason and maybe if you train with him, he’ll start talking. "But, like I said, I'm always gonna take care of you so I'll go easy on you." You hold your head and wink at him.

"You're not that good, babe."

"We'll see, shithead." You mock him and Jason lets out a laugh.

Over the next week, you and Jason continue to have nightmares that leave you not sleeping very much. Half the nights, you find yourself in Gar's room and every time you wake him up, you feel guilty. At this point, you’re pretty sure he's not sleeping any more than you are because you keep waking him up either by coming into his room or by having nightmares next to him. He's really nice about it and really good about talking you down from them because, while you hate talking about them, you’ve been telling Gar hoping it'll help. It hasn't.

The other half of the nights, you find yourself in Jason's room. You said you'd go to him and he's having nightmares every night, too. At least he isn't sleeping so you don't feel guilty for going to him. You both talk about your nightmares in the joking way that you usually talk about your trauma and you both think that might help. It hasn't. So, you train for an hour or two every time you come to his room and then he reads to you. Those are the only nights Jason actually gets some sleep.

Every other night, Jason stares out of his window and stands there for hours, just staring. He watches himself fall, he watches the windows pass him and he waits for the collision of the ground to suck the air from his lungs but it never comes. He wishes it would though. He doesn't sleep unless you’re with him and he's pretty sure he only gets some sleep to satisfy you. Or maybe it's because he's comfortable with you and he wants to satisfy you so you don't have to talk about him not sleeping. Sleeping is becoming just as much of a chore as breathing for him.

As for the days, you spend a lot of time with Gar. He keeps the thoughts away throughout the day. He asks just enough questions to make sure you’re okay but he's learning not to pester you because you'll talk on your own time and with the right questions. You’ve gone further in detail about the night and it breaks Gar's heart all over again. But, he lets you talk and he listens and reassures you over and over and over again that's not your fault. And you play video games together because that's Gar's way to get away from all the negative shit. It helps during the day a little.

But things are different. You can't put your finger on it but things are different. The other Titans whisper and have meetings. There's more going on than just them looking for Deathstroke. You aren't sure what the hell it is and you don't care much. Donna, Dawn, and Kory at least check on you and you’re thankful it's them and not Dick since you’re still mad. But, it's weird and it's different.

Gar is back to giving you that sympathetic look of worry and you hate it again. Rachel seems upset with you, probably because you didn't tell her you were going to hunt down Dr. Light and she wasn't included. And Jason is avoiding you during the day, not that you’re seeking him out much during the day either. It hurts being around him because you look at him and all you see is your own guilt staring you down. All she you is the pain he's going through and knowing it's your fault and there's nothing you can do to fix it. So, you let yourself be closer to Gar and you let yourself just be with him, exposed and maybe that's helping a little bit.

Jason spends a lot of his day either in the training room or in his room staring out of the window. He's intentionally avoiding you and Gar. Jason's been spending more time with Rose though and he is enjoying his time with her. She distracts from all of it, during the day anyway. But, it still feels like there's something sucking the blood right out of him, he's cold and his hands are shaking. He's tired and can't sleep and it's hard to breathe. And he wishes he could just turn back the clock to how it was before because right now, everything sucks.

Everything hurts. His leg is healing but it hurts still and his lungs hurt, his heart hurts. His head hurts and his eyes sting. The other Titans haven't really talked to him much. He feels like an outcast and while things weren't perfect before, he didn't feel like this.

Now, you’re asleep in Gar's room. You have your head on his chest, your hand on his stomach and his arm is around you. And it was going fine. You were actually getting some much-needed sleep but then, of course, a nightmare hits. This time, it's worse. Normally, when it's about Jason dying, you wake up right before he dies. This time, though, you get to watch the whole thing. From start to finish, you watch him fall onto the car below, you hear him scream just as you did that night a week ago and because that wasn't enough, Deathstroke still stabs you. Dick is sitting off the side just watching it, doing nothing while Jason lays lifeless fifteen stories below you and you bleed out. You scream in your dream only for Gar to be yelling next you, jumping out of the bed and that's enough to wake you up.

You shoot up and see Gar standing off to his side of the bed, face contorted in pain. "W-what happened?" You ask, catching your breath as dread fills your blood.

"You burned me!" Gar yells, his face turning a light shade of green as he looks at you with a sense of terror in his eyes and that's when you see it. His shirt is melted to his side and tears immediately brim your eyes as your entire being just shatters.

"I-I-I'm sorry." You spit out, trying not to completely lose it as you get out of the bed because you cannot look at him right now.

"Y/n!" Gar calls after you but you’re already leaving the room.

Tears start to fall down your cheeks and you can't believe you burned him. Of all fucking people, it just had to be Gar. The one person who never snaps at you and who has always been understanding. He's not dodging anything, he just listens and tries to help and that's just gotten him burned. You want to melt away right into the floor. You should have told him. Why didn't you tell him? You should have been more careful. You should have suffered through your nightmares instead of putting him at risk. You swear you’ve never been so selfish.

There's a rapid knocking on Jason's door, too loud and annoying for him to able to ignore. Normally, he might be annoyed or completely ignore it by putting on headphones, figuring it's just someone who wants to talk about what happened. But, it's four in the morning and the knocking is persistent, only one person is even up around this time sometimes.

Jason opens the door and there you are, cheeks wet. Swelling is setting in your eyes and they're bloodshot. There is something seriously wrong.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jason asks, looking you over without even realizing he's doing it. Just making sure you aren't physically hurt.

"I-I-I-I b-burned him." You sputter out, voice cracking and breaking.

Jason grabs your hand, pulling you into his room before shutting the door behind you. "Burned who?" Jason asks. "Gar?"

You nod frantically. "I swear I didn't mean to!" You let out a sob. "It was an accident but I hurt him and he's hurt and it's all my fault, Jay! It's my fault he's hurt!" Your voice cracks as your words are almost too fast to comprehend.

"What happened?" Jason asks, trying to keep his voice level and calm with you. He's never seen you like this and it's actually scaring him. He takes on Batman villains without a fear in the world, but you losing it? Yeah, that's terrifying. He wonders if this is how you view him.

"W-w-we were sleeping and-and I-I I had a nightmare and-and-and I-I guess I-I can't control--" You let out a cough as you try to get your words out.

Jason closes the distance between the two of you, putting his hands on your shoulders and squeezing. "I can't understand you. You need to calm down." Jason nods his head, keeping his voice stern to not allow the fear and worry to be revealed.

You suck in a ragged breath. "I had a nightmare." It's a sob that leaves your throat, tears falling down your face as Jason tilts his head slightly. "I can't control it sometimes." Your voice is so broken and defeated, Jason can feel the heartbreak in the marrow of his bones. "I burned him." Your head hangs as you let out another cry.

Jason sighs and he doesn't know what to do to make this better. You burned the person you’re in like with. You blame yourself and Jason hates that because it's not your fault. Sure, he's an asshole to Rachel about not controlling her powers but this is you and this is different because you can control your powers a lot better than Rachel can, at least it seems that way. You haven't tried to kill anyone with yours, on purpose or by accident. This is different and he just feels absolutely horrible and he's worried about Gar because Gar is his best friend. But, it's you who's in his room.

"Come here." Jason moves his hands away from your shoulders, pulling you into a hug, resting his hand on the back of your head.

You wrap your arms around him, your arms weak but you squeeze him as you cry into him. The last thing you want to do is hurt someone by accident but the fact it was Gar and because he's so nice to you, that's another level of guilt you’ve never felt before. It is soul-crushing to know he's hurt and the look of terror he gave you. It didn't matter that he tried not to be mad, you saw the green starting to tint his face. He's hurt and you don't know how bad because you couldn't face him. And maybe you went to Jason instead of Kory or Rachel because Jason is kind of mean when someone can't control their powers. Maybe you hoped Jason would be mean to you because you deserves it but now he's hugging you and rubbing your back.

"It's not your fault, alright?" Jason says, trying to keep his voice steady with you.

"Yes, it is!" You yell out in a sob.

"It's not." Jason says, you looking up to him. "I'd fucking tell you if it was."

"I burned him, Jay."

"Yeah, but you said it was a nightmare. It's not your fucking fault." Jason says and maybe if this happened before Deathstroke, he'd have a different opinion.

He'd probably agree with you and then tell you to make sure he's okay. But, this is after. This is the Jason after who suddenly understands what nightmares do to someone's psyche. Suddenly, he gets just how traumatizing and real the nightmares can feel, even an hour after waking up. He wakes up in a pool of sweat with a racing heartbeat, not able to fall back asleep until the following night. This isn't your fault.

"I never told him." You admit, your chin wrinkling and your voice is small.

"What?" Jason asks, his eyes widening. And now he's remembering that small conversation you had a little over a week ago when Rachel almost killed him.

"It-it wasn't a big deal b-because it never happened with Gar before. I-it only happened w-when I was alone."

"You should have told him!" Jason urges and now he's growing a little annoyed. You knew and while you told him, you should have told Gar. You spend more time in his room than Jason's. It's kind of a need to know thing.

"I know!" You let out another sob.

Jason lets out another sigh and he tries not to be annoyed because you show him patience even when you shouldn't. "Okay, is he okay?"

"I dunno, he was m-mad so-so I came in here."

"How mad was he?" Jason asks, a bit intrigued. Gar never gets mad but Jason doesn't blame him. Being burned awake sounds pretty infuriating.

"He was turning green." You whine.

Jason gains a yikes expression. "Stay here. I'll check on him." Jason pulls away. "Don't fucking go anywhere, got it?" You just stand there as Jason reaches the door. "Y/n!" Jason yells at you, making you look at him. "Sit your ass down. I'm serious, don't fucking go anywhere, I'll be right back." Jason states and you don’t fight him.

Jason watches you walk to his bed and sit on the very edge before he leaves. Jason checks Gar's room and doesn't find him there so he heads to the infirmary. That's where he finds Gar, addressing the burn on his side. He's wincing and groaning as he tries to clean it the best he can. Burns are the worst types of injuries. Nothing really helps them, they just burn.

"Hey, man." Jason walks in, standing a few feet behind Gar, watching in the mirror.

"What?" Gar asks, his voice a little snippy.

"You alright? Y/n told me." Jason says. sticking his hands in his the pockets of his sweatpants.

Gar shakes his head. "I'm fine."

Of course, you told Jason. Gar wouldn't have told anyone. It could have stayed between the two of you and you went to him. You bailed on him after you burned him to go to Jason. Maybe he shouldn’t be mad at that, but he is. His fuse is a lot shorter tonight.

"That's pretty bad." Jason can see the burn from where he stands. There are pieces of fabric glued to it and Jason winces at the sight.

"I know." Gar's voice goes quiet.

"She feels really bad." Jason states and he can't believe he's the one trying to fix something.

"She did burn me." Gar huffs.

He feels horrible for even being upset about it but it hurts. He knows it's not your fault, he knows that. But, Gar wants to know why it's always him in the crossfire of people who can't control their powers. Rachel almost took his hand off and now you gave him a third-degree chemical burn. Shit hurts.

"Yeah," Jason scoffs. "What happened anyway?" Jason asks walking over to him.

"I was asleep, next thing I know, I'm in pain." Gar huffs again, trying to pull a piece of fabric from the burn. He swears he'll never sleep with a shirt on again.

Jason winces as he watches. "She said you were turning green."

"Yeah." Gar states with hints of shame in his voice, getting the last of the fabric from the burn.

"I have her locked in my room."

Gar eyes Jason for the first time since he walked in. "Why?"

"Because she's fucking crying, man. She's losing her mind and I don't know what the fuck she's gonna do." Jason lets out a huff.

Jason knows what he would want to do if it were him so he locked the door from the outside. All the bedroom and infirmary doors lock from the inside and outside, likely some security measure type thing. It's a bit mean if you try to leave but it's better than the alternative.

Gar hangs his head, letting out a sigh. "I know it's not her fault." Gar looks back to Jason. "She's going through a lot and I should have..."

"Expected her to burn you?" Jason quips.

"No," Gar lets out a scoff. "I don't know, been prepared, I guess."

"Not your fault either." Jason states. He watches Gar try to be careful with the wound but it doesn't look like it's working. This is such a strange position for Jason to be in. It's normally you and Gar trying to help him but now he's gotta help the both of you. He owes you both. "I got an idea, you wanna help?"

Gar eyes Jason with suspension. "Depends, the last time you had an idea you and Y/n got kidnapped and dropped from a skyscraper." Gar snips, taking Jason off guard.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me." Jason snips back and he wonders if this is what you and Gar deal with with him. "It's about Y/n and you." Jason says.

"What is it?" Gar quirks a brow, his interest piquing.

This is Jason trying to help. Gar's said it a thousand times, Jason is actually a good friend. But, he is a little surprised that Jason is so willing to offer help with him and you. Gar isn't blind or stupid.

"She's cool, ya know? And you guys....are cool together, I guess." Jason swallows his pride and feelings about you and Gar almost chuckles at Jason struggling to talk. "So, I have an idea for her not to burn you....or anyone in her sleep."

"Because it's a matter of time before she burns you, too." Gar quips. Jason opens his mouth to argue but now he's just confused. "I know she sleeps in your room sometimes."

"I'm not overstepping, man." Jason defends himself quickly. "It's not like that." He wishes it were but he’s already that decision. And, you’re better off with Gar anyway.

"Right." Gar nods, not believing him.

Gar knows you and Jason aren't doing anything. Gar knows there isn't anything going on between you because neither of you would lead Gar on. But, he can see it. Everyone can see it. He knows something was going on before Deathstroke.

"Do you want my fucking help or you gonna give up on her?" Jason snaps and he knows what it's like to have someone give up. Gar isn't the type but it's sure seeming like it.

Gar's shoulders slump forward. "I'm not giving up on her." Gar's voice is small and has lost its venom. "What's your idea?" Gar lets out a sigh and goes back to cleaning his wound.

"My cape is fireproof." Jason states with a bit of pride and Gar wants to explode but he holds it together to find out what Jason means, specifically.

"Okay, and that has to do with what?"

"If it's fireproof, maybe it's Y/n proof." Jason suggests.

"Dude," Gar lets out a huff and he can't take it anymore. "What the hell is going on with you guys?"

It's not fair to him. He's waited because he thought that was the right thing to do. You were going through a lot and he didn't want to try and do anything if you weren't ready. But, Jason is always around and it's like he's in second place with Jason. Which, is fine, if Gar knows that but the two of you are so fucking wishy-washy about everything and Gar can't figure it out. This is the last straw. You burned him early in the morning and Jason is suggesting something involving one of his prized possessions.

Jason shakes his head and this is it. There's no turning back if he answers this how he needs to. Gar will tell you and that'll be it. He knows that's what's best. It's part of why he's dodging you both during the day. It's why he's hanging out with Rose. You should have someone who will protect you and you should have someone who's not going to ruin you. Gar won't do that. If you want him. It's up to you at the end of the day but Jason doesn't want to be a reason you don't choose Gar if that's what you want to do. It's your choice, but Jason doesn't want to be a reason for your choice.

"Nothing, man. We're just friends, that's all." Jason answers honestly. You are just friends but he bites down his feelings for you. "She gets me, ya know?" Jason keeps talking, trying to convince himself more than he is Gar. "And she was there last week so it's just different with her. But, there's nothing going on. I'm hanging out with Rose anyway." Jason gives Gar the fakest smirk he's ever had. "You should talk to her about it though." Jason chuckles. "She'll kill you if she thinks we're fighting over like a fucking price."

"It's not like that." Gar groans. "I'm the one who told you that!"

Jason laughs. "Yeah, but it's true." Jason defends. "She looks like she might bite me if I try anything with her."

Gar lets out a laugh. "Yeah, she does kind of look like she'd punch you." You absolutely do not look like you'd bite him or punch him if Jason tried anything, but Gar decides to agree with him anyway.

"Exactly, so if you wanna go for it, you should. Even though she just burned you." Jason sucks in a breath. "You're good together and you seem to make her happy."

"Thanks, Jason." Gar lets out a sigh. "What about your cape?"

"We're not using my cape, actually." Jason states. "But, if it's fireproof, maybe it's resident against chemicals. It's zylon so it should be. Bruce has access to the best materials and my cape is no different. It took blasts from that fucking lightbulb like it was nothing. Didn't even feel warm." Jason says as if he's bragging about it. "What if I call Bruce? See if he can get gloves or some shit? Test 'em out, just until her nightmares stop. She can still sleep with you and you won't get burned."

Gar's eyes are slightly narrowed as if expecting Jason to be up to something. This is most Jason has said all week. "That's nice of you." Gar keeps his eyes narrowed before he goes back to his wound. "Do you think Bruce will help?"

Jason shrugs. "Probably," Jason watches Gar before going to one of the cabinets and grabbing the petroleum jelly and a non-stick bandage. "Here." Jason hands them over as Gar gets the last piece of fabric. "Wash it first."

"Yeah...I know." Gar says slowly. "Who are you and what have you done with Jason?"

Jason laughs. "What?"

"You're being really nice right now and it's weird." Gar's eyeing Jason with suspicion and confusion. He’s never seen Jason this helpful before.

Jason shrugs. "Look, you guys have been there for me so I owe you guys." Jason says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You're my best friends."

Gar smiles softly. "Thank you, Jason."

"Don't mention it." Jason smiles. "You should check on her when you're done. I'll keep her in my room to make sure she doesn't lose it."

"I will, thanks." Gar nods and Jason leaves.

Jason heads back to his room and he feels a little better with talking with Gar. They had the conversation Jason didn't think they'd ever have or even needed to. But, it's out in the open now and he can't take any of it back. And he knows that he was able to help, at least a little bit.

Jason finds you sitting at the edge of his bed with tears still staining your cheeks. Jason sighs and sits next to you. You’ve been sitting and staring at the wall with a heavy chest. You’ve been thinking about how much you’re supposed to be able to handle before you finally snap. Something is bound to happen sooner or later and that will just be it. You’re dreading it and you’re terrified of what it'll be and how many more people you'll end up hurting because of it.

"He's fine." Jason assures you.

"I burned him so I know that's fucking bullshit." You huff with a scratchy voice.

"Yeah, like he's gotta fucked up burn but he's fine. He's not mad at you or anything."

"I don't believe--"

"He's fucking fine." Jason cuts you off. "I didn't tell him you knew, either. Don't beat yourself up for it, alright?"

"I deserve to though."

"No, you don't." Jason shakes his head. "Look, okay, he fucking cares about you and he likes you so just...let him." Jason nods his head and you turn your head slowly to look at him, wiping your cheeks.

"W-what?"

"Like, I said, you deserve for someone to take care of you." Jason swallows thickly before furrowing his brows. "Let him and stop beating yourself up for it." You shake your head. "You like him, don't you?" Jason lets out a scoff.

You pause and maybe that should tell you all you need to know about the two boys. Even with it being complicated, the question isn't. It's a simple yes or no question that you do have the answer to. But, you find yourself pausing anyway because it doesn't feel that simple. Jason is the one always telling you you like Gar and you agree with him. It's always been easier agreeing with him because it's true, than it is to have to admit anything else that comes tied with that. Admitting it fully, right now with this conversation, is closing the door on you and Jason. You don't want that door to close on your end, it can close on his, but not on yours. So, you’re willing to have the real conversation.

"Yeah, I do." You nod.

"Okay--"

"Not done." You shake your head. "But...I like--" You pause and you see this look Jason gives you and it's screaming.

It's like you can see him holding his breath, waiting for you to finish the sentence. For that second, you question if you should continue the sentence. Maybe running would be better. Maybe living in a state of what if could be better. And Jason is waiting for you to finish the sentence. He's torn between hoping you tell him you like him, too because despite everything said and done between the two of you, those words have never been said. And he hopes you change pace because if you tell him that you like him, he'll ditch everything he's thought about that and decide it's worth it. He knows he will and that might poison you. So, he's waiting and just a few seconds feels like hours.

And you pivot because you have to run from it. You and Jason could be good and work, it'd be fun and everything you’ve ever wanted. That seems too good to be true though. So, you run.

"Like, I burned him, ya know? And that's..." There's a brokenness that clouds your eye as you steer away from the conversation that should have been. "That's just a lot."

Jason nods and he acts like it doesn't hurt the very center of his heart. "So?" Jason scoffs. "It's always gonna be a lot." Jason shakes his head. "It was an accident. You call me out for shit all the fucking time, take your own fucking advice." Jason states.

You nod your head and the decision is sealed.

You always thought about Jason and Gar. You weigh them and you think about how wrong that is. But, every time you go towards Jason, think about him dying. How much it will hurt when he dies. It's inevitable. You swear it is because Jason is Robin. The Joker will kill him. Or the Riddler. Mr. Freeze. One of them will one day. Deathstroke was luck. But, he won't get that lucky forever and you don't want to be the one with a dead boyfriend. And you don't want to burden him if you’re the one that dies first. Jason's been through too much. And you’re just as reckless. One day, you'll die, too from some stupid decision you made and it'll destroy him. You won't let him be the one to hold that burden of the boyfriend who couldn't save his girlfriend. And you don't want him to ever feel like he should die for you because of your feelings for each other. Deathstroke was proof of that and you can't let him do that. At least as friends and no chance of anything else, maybe he won't die for you. Maybe when the day comes when one of you does die, it won't hurt so much.

And on top of all of that, Jason isn't what you need. You want him. Despite every reason you have to not like him and not want to be with him, you do want him. But, you need Gar and you want Gar. Because Gar is still safe. Gar can handle the world being thrown at him. You have no idea how that boy does it, but he does. And Gar makes you want to make better choices and not be as reckless. You need to learn how to have some self-preservation and Gar can teach you that.

Jason makes you want to burn a city down but Gar makes you want to learn how to put the fire out without destroying yourself. It's not as fun, you swear it's not, but maybe it's better for you. Maybe Gar is better for you even if you’re afraid you'll end up ruining him. Even if you’re worried you'll break his heart one day. Gar is a better option because you’re traumatized and Gar doesn't care about any of it. And he's safe and logical and fun in ways that aren't reckless. There isn't that adrenaline rush with Gar, but you do like him and you think maybe, if you try, you could love him one day. Maybe he'll be fun like Jason with time. Maybe he'll fill those things you like about Jason with time. So, you pick Gar.

"Alright." Jason nods and it's as if there's this silent conversation had between the two of you where you know. You both know how this would be different and you know it hurts the two of you. But, you both stick with it anyway because maybe it is for the best, for everyone.

"Thanks, Jay" You give him a fake but subtle smile.

"Yeah, no problem." Jason clears his throat as he jerks his head towards Gar who's standing in the doorway with a new shirt on. You turn and your heart drops into your stomach.

Gar hasn't heard much of your conversation, just the very end of it. But, the way Jason's looking at you, there was a lot more to that conversation. It's the look of pain and heartbreak on Jason's face that tells Gar he is not going to take Jason's advice. There's something between you and Jason and Gar isn't going to subject himself to it. If you want to, that's awesome but Gar isn't going to make that move.

"I'm going to train." Jason stands up.

"Jay." You groan.

"I'm up anyway, might as well." Jason forces a grin to his face before leaving before either of you can stop him.

"Hey." Gar greets, keeping his distance.

"I'm...I-I'm so sorry." You swallow thickly. "I-I never meant--"

"It's okay." Gar assures you. "I'll be fine." Gar gives you a soft and subtle smile. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" You flip the question. This isn't about you.

"Yeah, it, uh, it hurts but I'll be okay." Gar moves to sit by you. "I'm sorry I freaked out."

"You should have freaked out. I should have told you." You hang your head. "I, uh, i-it happens sometimes. I-I've never melted anything or anything like that before. I-I don't know what happened but I-I should-should have you."

"Yeah," Gar nods his head. "Yeah, that probably would have been nice to know." Gar lets out a gentle laugh. "It would have happened anyway though. It's okay."

You shake your head. "It's all messed up."

"It'll get better." Gar assures you. "I'll heal and you'll get better. The nightmares almost stopped before, they'll stop again."

"You're always so optimistic." You shake your head but there's a smile pulling at your lips.

"Someone has to be. Everyone here has enough negativity." Gar chuckles.

"Thanks for not being mad." You sniffle.

"I can't stay mad at you." Gar laughs and his cheeks start to heat up.

"You're so understanding." You let out a scoff but you have a smile. "Are we okay?"

Gar nods softly. "Of course."

Now is not the time to bring any of this up. It's a fresh wound and in order for it to not feel forced or out of guilt, you want to wait before you have the conversation with Gar. You want a little bit of time to sit with your feelings on the decision. You want to make sure that you picking Gar, isn't an obligation or the wrong choice. If you’re going to pick him you have to be sure. It's not fair to him if you aren't. So, you do not take Jason's advice right now. You offer Gar a sincere smile.

"Want breakfast? I'm wide awake so..." You laugh softly.

"I'll help this time." Gar chuckles. "I'm definitely not going back to bed."

"Well, come on then, Gar." You stand up, sucking up the heaviness in your chest as you stick out your hand to Gar. "Let's get some food." Gar hesitates but just for a second before taking your hand gently in his.

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