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kitmoas · 7 months

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when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly.

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back.

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was.

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field.

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are.

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings.

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you.

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you.

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch.

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut.

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake.

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her.

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was.

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers.

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?”

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible.

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb.

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt.

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know.

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin.

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh.

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear.

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you.

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you.

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body.

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed.

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks.

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you.

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.”

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly.

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants.

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief.

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs.

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously.

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on.

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly.

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection.

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get?

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back.

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you.

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that.

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about.

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you.

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you.

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good.

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby.

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her.

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive.

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body.

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high.

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath.

#kitmoas | Necrosis #wanda maximoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #kinktober #kits kinktober #wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #marvel fanfiction #wanda maximoff fic #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maxmoff x y/n

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flowerui · 1 month

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♫ three little words (dedicate them to me), cyj

fluff, 4.8k words ୨୧ oh my god they were roommates :0 sorry to any academic weapons reading, im projecting a bit as an academic failure lol

wherein it only takes you about twenty-nine years to realize you're in love with your best friend... at least you got there!

꒰ requested. gender neutral reader (no pronouns or gendered terms used), reader is younger, unspecified age difference (but its implied that theyre very close in age), childhood friends to lovers, nonidol au, roommates, idiots in love, time skips, aging up, alcohol/drinking, a bit dialogue heavy, vomit is mentioned a few times, friend group ot4 ꒱

It’s hard to recall a time without Yeonjun; he appeared one day and stuck to you, almost as if he were a stubborn thorn in your side (said endearingly, of course).

It must’ve been when you were still in kindergarten—right, Yeonjun and his parents had moved in next door, and your moms both became friends and arranged a play date. Yeonjun had brought his PlayStation over and let you play it with him, so, obviously, to five-year-old you, that made the two of you best friends right away.

“Are you almost done?” Yeonjun bemoans from your bedroom floor, urging you to look up from your piles of textbooks and worksheets finally.

“No, I told you I needed to study and that you should go to your own house, you bum. Just ‘cause you don’t give a shit about your education doesn't mean I don’t.”

“You almost flunked last year. And you’re only studying because your mom saw you got a three out of a hundred on your algebra test,” Yeonjun deadpans, “how do you even score that bad?” Ugh, lucky, naturally academically gifted asshole. You roll your eyes and toss a pencil at his stupid face.

“Whatever,” you grumble, it’s not your fault you can’t be an academic weapon, and that school is whooping your ass instead with academics as a weapon. “I feel like my brain is about to start leaking out of my ears anyway, wanna go to yours?”

Yeonjun grins, sitting up from your floor with a start, finally regaining some of his earlier excitement before he had to wait nearly four hours (all of which were spent pestering you) while you attempted to study. “I ditched school yesterday to get a copy of Resident Evil 4 from GameStop.”

“What the hell—and you didn’t invite me?” you whine, “That’s cold, you better let me try it first.”

It’s hours later into the evening when you’re watching Yeonjun attempt to get through the wretched cabin section that you died approximately… thirteen times trying to get through, that he says, “You remember that guy, Taehyun, right? In my AP History class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, blinking your bleary eyes at Yeonjun’s TV screen from your very comfortable spot on his couch.

“He doesn’t usually talk a whole lot to me, but today, I couldn’t get him to shut up,” Yeonjun huffs a laugh as he maneuvers the character, Leon, up the stairs on screen, seemingly making it farther than you could. “He was complaining though, ‘cause he was partnered with this person who was into me. He couldn’t get any work done, they were just bugging him about me.”

You tear your focus from the TV to look at the side of Yeonjun’s face, you can see part of his furrowed brow and pursed lips. “Oh.”

It doesn’t surprise you that a lot of people seem to be interested in Yeonjun at school. In middle school, people started coming up to you, asking if you’d put in a good word for them with Yeonjun, because they ‘like-liked’ him, and you were his best friend. Then, it was at the end of eighth grade that you started telling those people to grow a pair and talk to him themselves.

You suppose you kind of understand. Yeonjun’s nice when he’s not being a little shit… and he’s not horrible to look at, one might even say he’s good-looking.

“Are you into them?” The question seems to roll off your tongue easily, but you’re not even sure why you asked, you don’t think you want to know. For some reason, thinking about it churns your stomach a bit.

“...No, I mean, they’re pretty, but,” Yeonjun sighs, tossing his controller to the side as he dies a second time. “they seem kinda… much. I dunno, Taehyun said they literally wouldn’t talk to him about anything besides me the entire class. It kinda weirded me out.”

“Hm, yeah.” You hum, a weird feeling of… relief washing over you. Yeonjun’s mom comes in to ask if you’re staying for dinner before you can think about it too hard.

Later that night, when you’re stuck staring blankly at your ceiling, you decide you were just relieved that Yeonjun wasn’t going to end up with some overly possessive weirdo. It’d suck to lose your best friend that way.

“Please do not throw up, because if you throw up, then I’m gonna throw up.”

“I’m not gonna throw up,” Yeonjun insists, but it doesn’t sound all too credible with the way he slurs his words, maybe you’ve also had too much to drink, but you swear he looks a little green. “I… am perfectly fine, thank you very much.”

“Uhuh.”

“Don’t ‘uhuh’ me,” Yeonjun grumbles with an attempted glare, you find that you can’t take him all too seriously, though; the flush on his cheeks, his inability to keep his eyes open for more than five seconds, and his perpetual pout make it all too difficult. “Oh, I—I think I’m gonna hurl.” He braces himself against the bar, eyes suddenly more awake.

That would be the reason you end up in a grimy bathroom on your twenty-first, making sure your best friend’s hair is out of the way as he empties the contents of his stomach into a toilet bowl.

“Why’d you drink so much, you know you’re a lightweight.” You ask when Yeonjun seems to be done, frowning as you wipe off his mouth with a paper towel.

“Am not,” he protests petulantly. “I was just—I just felt like it ‘cause I thought it’d make me feel better ‘nd I could stop thinking about other shit.”

“Did something happen?”

“...I stopped seeing that person I told you about.”

“Why? I thought it was going well?” ‘Well’ might be a bit of an overstatement. Like most of Yeonjun’s partners, you didn’t hear a whole lot about this new one, met them once for a brief moment, then didn’t hear of them again. It seems to be a common theme in Yeonjun’s relationships—his fleeting interest, you haven’t figured out if you should say anything about it.

“It was just, um. ‘M not over someone…. I didn’t feel right staying in a relationship knowing I’m still not over someone else.”

Oddly enough, that felt rather sobering to hear. You hum, stomach feeling a little off—you hope you aren’t going to throw up next… “You haven’t told me about that, wanna talk about it? It might feel better than drinking too much and throwing up in a disgusting bathroom. Don’t quote me on that, though.”

Yeonjun blinks slowly, then chuckles, “I’ll tell you about it some other time, I just really want to be in bed right now.”

Instead of getting an Uber or something, you trudge down the sidewalk with a clingier-than-usual Yeonjun, who barely manages to walk in a straight line. You internally celebrate when your apartment building comes into view; one of you seriously needs to get a car.

You have to convince Yeonjun to shower before you, almost like a petulant child.

And apparently, wanting to be in bed means taking up most of your mattress and hogging your blankets for the night, because when you finish showering, you return to your room to find your bed occupied. You could just steal Yeonjun’s bed for the night… but you end up just crawling into bed beside him, listlessly trying to reclaim your covers.

He never ended up telling you about this mystery person he’s not over.

“I just don’t think it’s going to work out.” You sigh.

“But why? I thought things between us were going great, I—”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t see this relationship progressing any further.”

“But, I—I told my mom about you! You can’t leave me, I love you!”

“Ugh, you asshole,” you cry out as Yeonjun pretends to cry hysterically and shakes you by your shoulders, “You’re supposed to be taking this seriously and helping me!”

Yeonjun cackles as you shove him away, “I mean he could react like that, couldn’t he?” Then, he sighs and places his hands on your shoulders—not shaking you this time. “Okay, seriously, it’s going to be fine, you’ll be in a public space, so worst case scenario, he embarrasses himself.”

“You’re right… ugh, I’m gonna be late.”

“You’re the one who wanted to rehearse the conversation again.”

Before sending you off, Yeonjun smushes your face, cooing, “Okay, go dump your boyfriend, my duckling, I’ll be waiting here with takeout and beer.”

“You are a grown-ass man.” You deadpan before you’re finally off.

It’s been a good few months since you started seeing this new guy—his name’s Mark, you realized you liked him enough to make things more official after several good dates. But, you’ve already been considering breaking things off with him for a while now; you seem to have this recurring issue when it comes to relationships… You just can’t seem to envision a future that includes your partner, even when it’s going well you ultimately lose interest.

Mark seems like a good guy, too, which makes you feel worse, but it’d be even worse to just lead him on, right? That’s what you continue reminding yourself as you trudge into a nice café that will be tainted by the memory of you dumping a nice guy for the rest of your life. You’ll never be able to enjoy the sweet treats of ‘Arcadia’ ever again.

“Hey, there you are,” Mark smiles as you take the seat across from him.

“Yeah, uh, sorry, I had to help my roommate out.” A fib, even though your mother tells you honesty is the best policy. Well, she lied about Santa and the tooth fairy; besides, your fib sounds nicer than ‘I was rehearsing how to break up with you with my best friend’.

“No worries.”

“Um,” it’s better to just get it over with, you remind yourself, just rip the bandaid off, “so, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Uh oh, that doesn’t sound too good,” Mark chuckles, then clears his throat and continues when you don’t laugh, “What’s up?”

With a deep breath, you let it spill out all at once, “I don’t think this is going to work out, I just don’t see us—this relationship going any further. I’m sorry and I hope you can understand.” Okay, that wasn’t too scary, if you’re ignoring your shaky, clammy palms against your knees.

Mark nods, then looks down at his lap, then back at you, “I guess I should’ve seen it coming, I mean, I’ve seen the way you and your roommate look at each other.”

“Uh… you what?”

“You don’t have to play dumb about it, it’s obvious the both of you are in love. Guess I just liked you so much I hoped I could change your mind.” Mark sighs, “I think I’m gonna… go, sorry.” He says, then leaves you to spiral.

‘Obvious the both of you are in love’? You and Yeonjun? That’s ridiculous, right?

Leaving what was once your favorite café in a daze, you’re suddenly glad that you’d decided to walk instead of drive; you barely register entering your apartment complex, and unlocking your door.

“Hey,” Yeonjun is on the couch, takeout and a pack of beer spread on the coffee table as promised, “how’d it go?”

“It went fine,” you say with a smile that doesn’t quite make its way to your eyes, “he took it as well as he could have.” It’s weird, that you don’t just word vomit out every small detail, like you tend to with Yeonjun. But somehow, something about divulging everything feels weirder, so in a rare twist of events, you keep quiet.

Seemingly taking the hint that that’s going to be all you say for the time being, Yeonjun changes the topic, “Go change so we can eat, the new episode of The Vampire Diaries is literally about to start in like two seconds.”

“What the hell! I didn’t think I was gone for that long!” You shriek and make a run for it to your room to change out of your outside clothes.

Yeonjun snorts when you return, plopping onto the couch while trying to catch your breath. “I lied, there’s still like half an hour.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you hiss, and pummel him with the nearest throw pillow.

“I’m starting to think I’m gonna end up alone,” with a grunt, you tug your blanket up higher, “why’re we both so bad at relationships?”

“Rude,” Yeonjun flicks your forehead, and if you weren’t so cozy, full of food, and three cans of beer drunker, you might’ve sat up to take your revenge. But alas, moving even a mere inch feels like a herculean effort.

“You’re rude,” you stick your tongue out at him childishly. “Y’know I didn’t mean it like that, though, right?”

“I know.”

“Mm. Maybe…” You focus your bleary eyes on Yeonjun’s face above you. Even from this unfortunate angle, from where your head rests on his lap, he looks so… “If we’re not… If we’re still single by the time we’re thirty-four, I think we should just marry each other.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Okay, I think it’s bedtime, don’t you have work in the morning?”

If you hadn’t fallen asleep right then, you might’ve clapped back with a witty response, or you might’ve sat up, and looked at Yeonjun dead in the eyes and told him that you were serious.

“No, Mom, I am still not in a relationship,” you pause, then sigh, “Yes, I know I’m not getting any younger. And, no, I’m not gonna—wait, what?”

“You heard me, I asked when you’re going to give in and just marry Yeonjun. I like him, he’d be a nice son-in-law, he practically already is at this point!”

Only mothers would have the audacity. You have to pull your phone away from your ear to stare at the outgoing call screen in astonishment. “What… are you talking about?” You ask when you bring your phone back to your ear.

“Oh, c’mon. You’ve been living together since you were what, nineteen? Neither of you dates anymore, you spend all your free time together…You may as well get hitched at this point, instead of denying your poor mother the opportunity of watching her child get married any longer.”

You perk up at the call of your name, seeing two of your coworkers rush over, “Hey—random question—how early do you think is too early to get engaged? Lia’s only been with her partner for like three months, and they’re already engaged! You’ve been with your boyfriend for years, right? And neither of you has proposed?”

“Uh? My… boyfriend?”

“Yeah? Your boyfriend, his name’s Yeonjun, right?”

“Oh, he’s not my… He’s just my best friend.” You’re not sure what’s more embarrassing, the fact that all this time, it seemed like you and Yeonjun were dating, or having to tell two of your coworkers that you are actually painfully single. It doesn’t make it any better that the majority of your coworkers, while nice, are known for gossiping—all mostly harmless.

You expect your mother to make you feel bad about your relationship status (out of love), but not your coworkers.

“It’s weird, lately, I’ve realized that people think me and Yeonjun are together…? My mom even told me to just go and marry him, like?”

“Oh, you poor sweet summer child…”

“Have you still seriously not realized?” Taehyun pipes up beside Kai who regards you with a pitiful look. What’s up with everyone lately? You’re starting to feel like you’re the only one missing something.

“Realized what?”

“Oh, you’re hopeless.” Taehyun laments, looking as if he’s about ready to tear his hair out or reach across the dining table to knock some sense into you.

Ideally, you’d like to think you’re not at all oblivious. But, after many strange occurrences, you can’t help but consider: that you’ve never properly thought of Yeonjun that way—in a romantic sense. He’s always just been Yeonjun; the only person who you know for a fact you can trust with anything, and the only person who will stick with you despite all of your bullshit, like a stubborn thorn you can’t seem to be rid of (not that that’s an issue). He’s your everything, really.

When you imagine your future, you always see him fit in there somehow—but it occurs to you that as someone who’s never had a complete interest in marriage, or any romantic relationships for a long time for that matter, you could imagine walking down the aisle with Yeonjun, and more. Not only that, but you like imagining it.

Oh.

How dense can one be to fail to realize they’ve been in love with their best friend all this time? After nearly three decades of friendship, it’s seriously taken you this long to get to this conclusion? All those failed relationships you tried so hard to make work, it was all for nothing, because you couldn’t realize what you felt for what you already had! So much time wasted…

“Are you feeling okay?” Yeonjun apparates beside you, a palm carefully tracing circles over your upper back.

You feel bad for how you jolt away from him, seeing the surprise and mild hurt pass over his features in a split second. If you didn’t know Yeonjun like the back of your hand, you might’ve missed it. “...Sorry, I dunno—I’ve been kind of out of it lately, I think I just need to relax.”

“You haven’t been overworking yourself again, have you?”

“No…”

Yeonjun gives you a look as though he doesn’t quite believe you, but drops it. This time, you don’t jump away like frightened prey when he touches you—wraps around your side. “Let’s watch something tonight? I’ve been hearing about this new Kdrama called ‘My Demon’.”

“That sounds straight out of Wattpad… I’ll order the food.”

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun sings as he saunters into your bedroom at… way too early in the morning. But all’s forgiven with the realization he comes bearing gifts—food. “What’s that, thirty-four punches I’m gonna have to give you, now? Fuck, you’re old,” he says as he sets down a delectable-looking plate of your favorite breakfast on your nightstand.

“Shut up, you’re older than me.” You narrow your eyes, sitting up to reach for your birthday breakfast.

“And if you punch me thirty-four times, you will not live to see another day, Choi.”

Getting older has meant that your birthdays have become a lot less eventful, but you haven’t quite minded it. They’re spent with your favorite person, anyway, so no complaints on your end.

Yet, somehow, you end up on a beach on the night of your birthday, sitting on a beach towel Yeonjun had neatly spread out and admiring the night sky. You’d had a simple plan to laze around at home all day, eat something good for dinner, drink a little more than you should, and then sleep like the dead. However, Yeonjun had other plans when he’d announced the night before that he was taking you on a day trip the next morning. ‘It’s only a six-hour drive’, he’d said, because he’s insane.

You suppose you had a little more to your original plan… you guess you also intended to profess your newly realized love for your best friend, and potentially ruin about twenty-nine years of friendship if things happened to go wayward. Well, you still intend on getting that over with.

“Happy birthday,” Yeonjun says once more, as he returns from the car with an unopened bottle of wine and two wine glasses. Huh, you guess that’s why he took so long to grab something to drink from the ‘cooler’, actually... do either of you even own a cooler? “Better appreciate this wine, it was pricey.”

“I distinctly recall telling you not to spend much on me this year,” you sigh, but you’re staring down the bottle, “and you already arranged this impromptu trip.”

“Well, I wanted to, it’s not every day you turn thirty-four.” Yeonjun doesn’t add anything else, as he hands you the bottle of wine; you decide not to call out how he can’t meet your eyes properly.

Cabernet Sauvignon 1999, the bottle reads. You don’t know much about wine—you’re not that old yet—just that it usually tastes good. “Is it good? I don’t think I’ve tried Cabernet Sauvignon, have I?”

“You haven’t, I think you’ll like it. It would’ve gone well with dinner.”

You hum, taking a corkscrew handed to you, as Yeonjun takes a seat beside you.

A couple of glasses later, you blurt, “Thanks. For this—the trip, dinner. And the wine. I like it a lot.” It’s not quite what you’d meant to say, in such a stilted manner. You guess you need a little more liquid courage, as you pour yourself another glass.

“I can tell, that’s like your third glass.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, as Yeonjun snorts into his glass. Cheeks warming, you start internally motivating yourself—if being alive for thirty-four years has taught you anything, it’s that everything’s worth a shot. You miss a hundred of the shots you don’t take… or whatever the saying is. “Do you remember that time I said we should just marry each other if we’re still single by thirty-four?”

After a pause, Yeonjun raises a brow, “Yes?”

“I’m surprised you remember that, considering you passed out right after… Are you saying we should get married, then?” Something passes over his features before he turns to you, and laughs something that isn’t exactly humorous, “I think that might be enough wine for you.”

“I’ve only had two glasses.”

“Two-and-a-half,” you correct after glancing down at your half-full glass. “I’m not drunk, maybe a teensy bit tipsy, but—fuck, that’s not the point.”

“What is the point you’re trying to make then? Yeonjun laughs, it almost looks like that familiar glint has returned to his eyes. You’d appreciate it if you weren’t about to implode.

“I, uh,” you clear your throat. Yeonjun continues to regard you with amusement; you vaguely wonder if he’ll still be amused once you manage to get the words—your confession out, or if you’ll go and ruin everything because of some stupid feelings. “Fuck, this is kinda difficult.”

“Okay, um,” maintaining eye contact is a test of your mental strength, which is why you avert your gaze even though you’ve turned to face Yeonjun, as you utter your next sentence, “So, it’s taken me an embarrassingly long time to realize that I’ve, uh, sort of, kind of been in love with you for probably forever. No, I—”

“I’m in love with you,” you rephrase more confidently, yet you end up shrinking in on yourself when the only response you receive is Yeonjun blinking blankly at you. “So, um, you could say something… right about now. Like, you hate me and are kicking me out? Well, ideally, you could say that you feel the same and—”

“Breathe,” Yeonjun reaches over to squeeze your clammy hand. Taking a breath as instructed, you realize you have not been breathing properly since you began speaking. “I was just—you’re being serious? You aren’t just drunk, and you aren’t fucking with me?”

“Two-and-a-half glasses, I’m tipsy at worst,” you reiterate, “and I’m not fucking with you either.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun breathes, which does nothing to assuage the anxiety that feels like it might have colored your face pallid, as it incessantly knocks against your ribcage.

“Oh? C’mon man, I just confessed my love to you, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I’m nervous as shit right now.”

“Sorry, I was just…” Yeonjun laughs, the asshole laughs. “We really are best friends, huh? I spent all week trying to figure out how to make your birthday special, and confess my love to you at the end of the night. And here you are, beating me to it.”

“You… oh.”

“C’mon man, give me a little more than ‘Oh’, I just told you your love is reciprocated,” Yeonjun laughs as he repeats your previous words, teasing, “I’m nervous as shit, too.”

So, you down the rest of your glass before setting it aside and scooting too close for comfort, and ask, “Can I kiss you?” Because if thirty-four years of life has taught you anything, it’s to not waste any more time.

“Uh… yes.” Yeonjun’s widened eyes dart from both of your eyes, to your lips, and back.

And, so, you close the distance to kiss him.

Maybe it’s not magical, maybe you don’t feel any supposed sparks or fireworks. But it feels right, like it’s meant to be as you cup Yeonjun’s cheek and shift to curl your hand around his nape. It feels like caressing the petals of a burgundy rose.

(“Have you just always known you loved me? Even when I threw up on you the first time we got drunk?” You ask, a few hours, and a couple more glasses of wine later.

“Ew, but yes, I knew I loved you even then.”

“...Huh. Would you still love me if a witch cursed me and I turned into a worm tomorrow?”

Yeonjun snorts, “A worm?” then he hums in thought, “I would buy the biggest terrarium, and the nicest dirt I can find, and take care of you. I’d find the witch and make her turn you back into a lovely human, too.”

“Good answer,” you smile, leaning over to kiss Yeonjun again, he tastes a little like remnants of Cabernet Sauvignon, deep and red, urging you to kiss him a little deeper. “I love you,” you whisper against his lips when you part.)

Upon thinking about it, not much changes between you and Yeonjun; apart from the kissing, consistently sharing a bed, sober I love you’s, and the other ‘unnecessary PDA’, as Taehyun so kindly put it, while Soobin had fixed the two of you with a disgusted look (you know that deep down somewhere, he’s happy for you both), and Beomgyu shot a thumbs up before going back to hogging the cookies Soobin baked—Kai was more focused on trying to steal some cookies, which he managed.

Your mother had practically wept out of joy when you told her the news, ‘I’m going to see my baby get married! I thought the day would never come!’ she’d cried out, and rushed to tell anyone that would listen to her. Overdramatic, and a little hurtful, by the way… You didn’t even say anything about marriage, either!

“Hm?” You reluctantly blink your eyes open at the call of your name, to see Yeonjun looking at you with a suspicious grin on his face.

“I love you.”

“...What did you do? I love you too, though, even if I have to become an accomplice.”

“I didn’t do anything bad, I just love you.”

“Mm, you loser. I love you more.”

“Hm, are you sure about that?” Yeonjun hums, your eyes follow him as he sits up and reaches for something from his nightstand, “‘Cause I think I love you more? So much that I’m asking if you’d do me the honor of marrying me.” He says so casually, contrasting how he carefully opens a small, velvety box. It gives a quiet creak as it pops open, revealing a simple silver band. A ring. An engagement ring.

After blinking the fatigue out of your eyes, and confirming that you’re not seeing or hearing things, you sit up with a start, “You—

“You dick, why would you propose to me while I’m half-asleep?!”

“Well, if you said no, I could’ve just written it off as you being tired and mishearing me… I’ll get you a nicer wedding ring, too, if you say yes, that is. Well, I already have one—”

Yeonjun grunts as you throw yourself onto him, “You’re such an idiot, I love you. Yes, I’ll marry you, there’s no question about it.”

You can’t recall the moment you started loving Yeonjun; maybe it was the day you met and he let you play his PlayStation. Maybe it was in middle school when more people started to see him, or maybe it was in high school…

Maybe you can’t pinpoint the exact moment, maybe you’ve just always loved Yeonjun. It’d be hard not to love him; he’s as beautiful as a white rose—inside and out—one that you’d pluck from the dirt with your bare hands, thorns and all, just to keep to yourself, even if for a little while. Maybe that’s selfish, but you think that doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

You part from Yeonjun as your friends and family cheering fills your ears. Feeling like words can’t do your feelings in that moment justice, you kiss him once more, in hopes to convey them a little better.

“I know. I love you,” he says, because he knows you best.

Grinning so happily that your cheeks begin to ache, you properly part from Yeonjun this time, and walk hand-in-hand down the aisle.

#꒰ 📞 ꒱ new message!#choi yeonjun x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x reader #kpop x reader #txt x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #gn reader #yeonjun x gn reader #choi yeonjun x you #kpop x you #txt x you #fluff #txt fluff #yeonjun fluff #kpop fluff #kpop x gender neutral reader #x gn reader

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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

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Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Four

"Lennon's late again" says Paul, as he walks in late. And sweet Ringo just gently, "between ten and eleven is the time" Which means: "Chill babe. He'll be here."

One thing that always gob smacks me is how bored George and Ringo are watching Paul pull Get Back out of the ether. They literally see him do this shit all the time which is insane to me.

His voice is so so so pretty!!! And he's just so completely in his own world. The hunched shoulders. The twitching. The gibberish. The tapping. The twisting.

Obviously this is a song with the original central feeling being let's go back to before everything went wrong but he wants to make it into a meaningless song with both story bits and almost walrus-esque bits. But why is the first lyric he comes up with about gender? Thinking of @scurators posts on Paul and gender.

Ringo's customary quiet really does add significance to his voice, so him singing along with this so quickly says something I think about his support for the song and for Paul in general.

When John walks in he's greeted with a little cocky nod and smile like "look what I've just done while you were late." And then Paul sings "get back to where you once belonged" directly at him before breaking the eye contact. It's one of those heartbreaking Lennon/McCartney miscommunications because Paul is doing this to get John back, but actually it's scaring him away, you know? Paul thinks he has to prove to John how good he is, but John's exhausted with how good Paul is.

STFU Michael Lindsay Hogg

Paul really does love the idea of being forced out of parliament by cops and honestly so do I. Would've been iconic and might've kept them together.

John's so quiet today and also Yoko is not here. Correlation or causation I wonder.

"They say don't they say charity begins at home?" I love you forever, George. His humor is always so well-placed and so dry (even though he's clearly cracking himself up here). And it steers the conversation away from a direction he was not happy with without poking any bears. In fact, everyone's laughing. Clever boy.

"I've decided that the whole point of it is communication. And to be on TV is communication and we've got a chance to smile at people like all you need is love or something so that's me incentive for doing it." Wise, egalitarian John making a lovely appearance.

And then there's Paul. "I'm here cause I wanna do a show." Lol I love them.

Why do they say "Mr Epstein?" Is it because they're on camera and they want people to know who they're talking about? Does it have something to do with the maharishi telling them certain ways to talk about Brian? Does anyone have any thoughts about that?

Okay so you know how I just said last time how emotionally mature George was? I still think it's generally more true of him than the others, but this right here? This is not it. "I don't want to do any of my songs in the show because they'll all just turn out shitty." Man has issues.

I think it's important to recognize that George and Paul have both said the literal word "divorce" and it's NBD. But when John does it, Paul takes it as "the groups really over and I have to go into hiding and not get out of bed and maybe od who knows." Why? There's another puzzle piece here that we're missing.

"Should we leave you for a while?" "YES!"

On the one hand I'm like "working on Maxwell is the last thing you guys should be doing with this time alone." But on the other thing maybe it's the only thing they can do at this point.

"Mal? You should get a hammer. And an anvil." As he's walking away. Main character in a contrived mad genius biopic. Except it's real.

"Joan" sounding suspiciously like "John" ... And then he goes "fool, Maxwell fool." Aka one of their ~special words~ New theory. John hates Maxwell because he dies in it. And Paul's the killer.

"Take it away Johnny." Even though it was George and John whistling before wasn't it? Did George get cut from the whistle chorus? Another straw on the camel's back.

I LOVE that John just does not know any of his own songs. Across the Universe my beloved!

On the glyn/Paul moment featured below, I have three thoughts. 1. Whore. 2. John Lennon villain origin story. 3. The fact that glyn didn't just tell John is striking.

"I wish it fucking would". "Cause I'm down." This lyric going from a self-soothing reassurance that his people aren't going to leave him that he'll always have this beautiful dream he's created with them. To this? I hate it here.

So there is a big emotional and energy difference between their Beatlemania selves singing "Rock and Roll Music" and their current selves. And part of it is due to the fact that they're just not as happy as they were then. But I think most of it is really just that they thrive when they're performing for an audience.

#Sorry for the scarcity of shitty pics to break up the block of text in this one.#Hopefully the next one will be better #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #Get back

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hum-suffer · 4 months

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I'm Yours 4

Warning: it's not too explicit but I'd rate it nsfw just to be safe. They're just kissing lol (baki you can read, it's legit no plot)

____________________________________________________

Mayank is... something great. He's self assured, cocky and easy to get along with.

The way he slid next to Ishan and danced with him on Dil Di Nazar made Ishan want to scream with joy. The man knew the steps to the movie music video and Ishan instantly gave him brownie points.

Now, they go back and forth, dancing on Señorita as they go and Ishan laughs at the way Mayank butchers the Spanish, instead saying some very unflattering things in Hindi.

Mayank grabs his hand and spins him around, abruptly dipping him. The smile on his face shrinks and Ishan almost wants to hit the man. He controls his urge and takes a step back. He doesn't like being touched so intimately, not at all in a crowd like this. His partner doesn't seem to care much and continues to dance and another song starts to play.

Ishan only recognises the song when it's halfway done and Mayank is holding his hips loosely and dancing completely off beat. Dhan Te Nan is a fast song and this man is dancing almost way too slow for Ishan to even think decently of him. The brownie points are deducted instantly.

Mayank languishly closes his eyes and moves his body in a way that it grazes Ishan's. Ishan closes his eyes too, deciding to enjoy his time out even if it's with someone who doesn't know when to grind and when to dance.

A hand dances at his back, finger tips drawing mindless patterns.

Ishan moves in tandem with the beat as it slows down at the end of the song and slightly raises one of his foot to graze the inside of Mayank's leg.

He opens his eyes to see his reaction but before he can actually discern anything, the lights turn off and another song starts. Uff Teri Adaa starts to play, Ishan knows it because he has it by heart by now.

The club is way too dark without the lights, no windows available in the room. Ishan finds he likes the feeling. The hand from his back and hip disappears abruptly.

Ishan feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. It takes his added brain a moment to understand it but the arms don't feel the same as they did a while ago when he was dipped.

These arms are stronger and hold him in a more comfortable manner. He can break away if he so wishes.

Ishan continues to dance, marvelling at his luck to be suddenly of interest to more than one person.

He feels a forehead at his shoulder, and the arms at his waist shift, fingers splayed over his stomach. The hands are cold, he can feel them perfectly through his thin shirt. Perhaps the stranger had been holding a glass.

From the minute space between two buttons, the stranger slips a finger inside Ishan's shirt as they dance pathetically slow to the song. Ishan can't find it in himself to care about either Mayank or the song or the dance. The cold finger on his warm skin makes his muscles contract and breath hitch.

Ishan throws his head back and the stranger shifts again, nuzzling up Ishan's throat with his nose. Ishan feels teeth graze the corner of his jaw in the imitation of a bite before lips are pressed behind his ears.

"You told me I'm yours," the stranger speaks in a deep voice. Ishan is a bit disoriented from the loud music, but he thinks he's heard the voice before. It's a throaty, raspy voice. "But you're mine too, love."

The pet name brings him back to Earth.

There's only one person who calls him that.

He doesn't know what it says about him but instead of running, Ishan tilts his head further. It's the alcohol, he tells himself.

(He lies. He barely drank a sip of beer before he passed it off to Aditi because it tasted like bullshit.)

The lips shift and he feels a smile at his nape. "I don't let anyone else touch what's mine, love. Won't you be a good boy and cooperate for me?"

Warmth pools in his stomach. He stiffles a groan and sneers in the dark. "And yet, I've yet to see the one who belongs to me. Do you want to upset me, sweet boy?"

Fuck the fucking beer.

(Fuck his need to be so fucking possessive. Fuck his need to know. Fuck the warmth he's feeling in his blood right now.

Fuck him.)

He hears a groan and feels the vibrations on his skin and the way the a huff blows the hair at his nape. Ishan shivers as the finger over his torso slips out and the hand snakes up to cup his throat.

He gulps and he's sure the admirer can feel it. Ishan can feel his shiver at his back.

"Be a good boy, Ishan," he says, and Ishan almost combusts at the way his name sounds, so desired and so wanted and so so passionate. "Walk with me."

Ishan nods, his curiosity makes him a slave as the admirer slides the hand away from his throat and again wraps both his arms around Ishan's waist as he's led to a place he doesn't know.

The grip is still loose enough that Ishan can shrug him off.

He doesn't.

____________________________________________________

The admirer stops them when they're in another room. It's dark here too, no lights.

Ishan feels himself being pushed against a wall and then his body is covered with warmth again, hidden under another's.

"Tell me to stop and I will," the admirer says, and Ishan wants to hug him. He doesn't, but just nods.

The next thing he knows, there's hands all over his body. A hand goes behind his head to shield him from the wall and other one goes back to his hip. There's lips on his brow and they trail down slowly, almost painstakingly.

Ishan whimpers, shivering with the effect the hot breath and cold hands have on him. Before he knows what he's doing, his hands are raising and he grabs the shirt that the admirer is wearing and—

Motherfucker.

It's his shirt. His blue silk shirt.

The texture is the same, the small fake diamonds forming a curve at the second last button is the same. Ishan bunches up the fabric in his hands and groans when feverish lips press at his cheeks.

"Stealing is a crime," he says, panting. The admirer chuckles.

He retorts,"If you belong to me, so does your shirt, love."

"I don't belong to you."

"Yet."

The hot kisses shift downward, to his jaw and then his throat. Ishan tenses up for a fraction of a moment when he feels his a hand on the centre of his chest where he's left the top two buttons open.

A finger trails down saliciously.

"You wore this for me, love?" The admirer says, his breath coming faster as if he's affected by their exchange as much as Ishan is. He moves his face and buries it in Ishan's throat, licking almost sweetly at the base of his throat.

Hysterically, Ishan is glad that he's forgone to use any perfume on his skin and instead opted for a light ittar on his clothes. He doesn't think tasting perfume would have been pleasant for the admirer.

He's pulled out of his thoughts when teeth graze at his throat again before he's actually bitten. Ishan can't supress the groan he feels and automatically, one of his hands flies from the shirt to his admirer's hair. His hair is soft, Ishan notes distantly as he grabs a handful— to shove back or forth, he doesn't know.

The admirer seems to take the decision for Ishan as he moves, barely an inch, and bites his skin again. Ishan feels him lick the area with the tip of his tongue.

"No one puts their hands on you, do you understand, love?" The admirer asks.

Ishan doesn't know how to answer that and the hand previously on his chest goes down to grab his shirt and pull Ishan closer. Ishan feels another bite at the corner of his jaw and keens, pulling the admirer closer by his hair.

"Do you understand, Ishan?" He asks again, voice directly in Ishan's ear before he bites his earlobe.

"Yeah," Ishan pants. "Yeah, yeah, I do. I understand."

He is rewarded handsomely for his agreement.

The free hand, the one that isn't tugging him by the shirt and making him feel things he definitely should not be feeling, slithers around his body. The admirer slips his hand in Ishan's back pocket and squeezes lightly.

Ishan gasps, digging his nails in the skin of the admirer's neck.

"Can I kiss you, love? I'll leave you alone if you say no, I promise." The admirer sounds so sincere and so sober. Ishan is drunk on the feeling of his hands on his body. He wants more. He shouldn't, he knows, this admirer could turn out to be a psychopath for all he knows, but.

But his touch is absolute sin. And Ishan has never been a saint.

"Please." Is all he whispers.

The last time Ishan kissed someone was four months ago, when they were playing truth and dare and someone dared him to kiss Aditi. It was awkward and hellish to kiss his best friend of years. Plus, she'd been eating garlic bread, so it was worse.

His admirer? He tasks like ice and something fruity. His lips move against Ishan's, slowly at first, as if he can't believe it and then he absolutely devours Ishan. The admirer groans against Ishan's mouth and Ishan slips his hand under his, Ishan's ,untucked shirt and splays a hand over the man's torso like he did with Ishan not too long ago.

The admirer slows down and Ishan breathes deeply as they pull apart. He wants more. He wants it back.

With all the strength he can manage with his limps so loose and thoughts out of sorts, Ishan flips them so the admirer is pushed against the wall where Ishan was standing. He keeps him there with a hand on his chest and he hears a pop, only to realise that the admirer actually ended up breaking a button on Ishan's shirt with his sudden shift.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks, his voice sounding rough and croaky to his ears. "Please, baby, let me. Let me please you."

The admirer whimpers and Ishan feels the nod from where his hand still lies against the man's neck.

Ishan kisses the admirer like a man starved and moves his other hand to cup his cheek. He can feel the shapely jaw and high and full cheek bones. Ishan moves his hand to cushion the admirer's head as his kiss turns more ardent and Ishan has the wildest idea to stake his claim as well.

He can feel the throbbing on his neck, jaw and throat, and knows that he will have hickeys. It's only fair that he gives repayment.

The admirer groans as Ishan bites at his jaw and his Addam's apple, panting in Ishan's ear in the way that only encourages him.

He swipes his tongue over his admirer's neck and plants a final hickey at his jawline, just an inch away from his chin.

Impossible to hide.

His.

Ishan's.

The way that the admirer whimpers makes Ishan want to do unspeakable things to him. But before it can go any further, the admirer plants a hand over Ishan's mouth. Ishan blinks owlishly even if it's of no use in the bloody dark room.

"I have to go now," his admirer says roughly and shifts. Ishan feels the impact he has had on his admirer. He feels proud for some inexplicable reason. "But we will meet again, love. And until then, no one else touches you, okay?"

Ishan wants to say something scathing and sassy but he purses his lips and nods. "Okay. Can I see your face, at least?"

"Not today, love. Someday else." And there's a hand over his eyes now.

And again, Ishan let's himself be led by a man he doesn't know.

It's only when the cold of the hands disappear from his body that he opens his eyes to see himself at the dance floor again.

Ishan doesn't see Mayank for the rest of the night.

____________________________________________________

Tagging: @kyayaarkiraa @fortunatelycrazyyouth @khwxbeeda @ek-ladki-bheegi-bhagi-si @ishkrisq @k-h-watari @ispeakmorelanguagesthanyou @ms-potato @onthecloudseven @mayakimayahai @athena-swords

#Shubhman gill #ishan kishan #fanfiction #dude i swear i mean no disrespect pakka #im just a girl who's obessed #cricket #ishman #shubish #mayank Agrawal #bro lmao i almost forgot that i added him as a character lol👩🏻‍🦯#sorry bby

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lace-coffin · 2 months

Note

Hello! 👋 I have a really weird kinda specific request for Asa. Could you pretty please write headcanons of Asa with a picky eater s/o? But like an emotional picky eater, idk if that makes sense. Personally I have a rlly hard time with motivation to eat, I'm also a picky eater so when someone else eats my food and I run out of my favorites I get really frustrated and emotional because it's hard for me to eat already and eating foods I don't like just make it 10x harder. Idk I'm a crybaby and cry over food lol. Sorry if this is weird or too specific 😅. Anyways I love your writing keep up the good work and have a fantastic day/night!

Hi! Thank you so much for the request! No need to apologise! I love specific requests! I’m also a pretty picky eater due to my autism so ur not alone! I’m so happy u like my writing ah T T have a fantastic night urself!!

Asa Emory x picky eater!Reader

Requests are open!

The restaurant was supposed to be a reward for your good behaviour lately, unfortunately it turned into a nightmare only moments after being seated. Flicking through the menu your heart rate starts to spike, making you feel a little sweaty and out of it. The restaurant is beautiful and lavish but unfortunately that means the menu is more ‘out there’ and doesn’t have any of your safe foods on it…

You don’t want to ruin the reward, it’s a nice restaurant and you’re here to enjoy it with your master. attempting to shovel the anxiety down you order something that you think could be edible to you. Your nervous energy dies down a little as convocation flows between the two of you, laughing along easily and lost in it you almost forget the problem at hand. Until it arrives.

Five minuets pass and you haven’t eaten more than one bite after pushing the meal around your plate with the fork, trying to stall. You try will yourself to take another bite but you can’t do it, your eyes are starting to water and you don’t know what to do, if only you could just buckle down and eat it. Unfortunately that’s not an option, your stomach starting to turn and your breath catching at the idea.

Asa notices you haven’t spoken in a while, he figured you’d just been enjoying the meal until he’d looked up, your face contorted in worry and tears threatening to fall.

“-re you ok? Pet?”

Blinking away your tears you pull yourself back into the moment, only catching the latter half of what your partner said but getting the gist. No use in hiding it now, there’s no way you’re going to finish this meal without crying, and you sure as fuck don’t want to be crying in the middle of the restaurant. You can’t think of anything more mortifying.

Eyes falling away from Asa and back to the plate you take a breath and begin to explain, voice small and apologetic.

“They didn’t have any foods I know I like so uh I ordered something new! I didn’t like it though..” you say, wincing a little.

“I’ve tried my best to eat it but I just..can’t. I promise I’ve tried my hardest and I really want this reward to be good and I love being here with you but it’s stressing me out so bad!” You sniffle again at the end, explaining the issue always makes you emotional again.

“Oh pet” Asa sighs with a fond expression.

“You should’ve said something, it’s really no worry at all, we could’ve gone somewhere else, I won’t take offence.”

You let out an exhale of relief, realistically you knew he wouldn’t be angry with you considering he already knew about your eating difficulties but it still didn’t stop you from panicking.

“Cricket” your owner addresses you again, reaching over the table to hold your hand.

“Would you like to leave and get some takeout? We can go to your favourite, it’s your reward after all.” He smiles softly at you.

Squeezing his hand affectionately you can’t help but grin back.

“I would love that, sir.”

I rlly wanted to do the rest of ur request too so have some extra headcanons on the house lmao

“Come on pet, just one more bite and I promise no more.” Asa coos as he scoops the spoon full of food, bringing it to your lips. The gesture is very sweet but unfortunately you want absolutely nothing less than to have the next bite, the idea nauseating.

-After finding out about the difficulties you have surrounding food he likely keeps multiple packages of your safe food stocked in the house

-always has a food you know you like in the freezer or fridge on standby when trying new foods incase it doesn’t go well

-he’ll never get angry at you if you suddenly go off your food, he’ll either offer to get you something else or make you pinky promise to eat later when you feel better

-has absolutely let you cry it out more than once at the drive through when you find out the thing you’ve been thinking about all day is out of stock

-if you’re finding it hard to eat and he absolutely can’t get you out of bed/move you to eat then he’ll bring the food too you, will happily feed you if you ask or look like you need it, he loves to feed dominant and needed

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #slasher fucker #slasher fandom #slasher #slasher horror #slashers x reader

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i-am-the-avatar-of-idiocy · 2 years

Note

What if when mc died, they ended up in the devildom? How will the brothers react? Will they be happy? Or not?

Hey anon! This is only quick before I go to sleep so sorry for the quality of this being lower than usual :)

angst? Kind of lol

lucifer

Lucifer was shocked when he saw you again, after weeks of waiting, thinking he’d never see you again as you went to the celestial realm

after all, you were amazing

then he found out why: him and all the demons you had pets with dragged you down

he was upset at first, before indulging himself in you, running hands over your skin and new horns, and tail

he is originally upset for being a part of the reason, before deciding to give in to you, you were even more tempting as a demon

mammon

mammon is greedy, and your number one

So his joy at you being a demon is through the roof

‘The celestial realm doesn’t deserve ya’

he wonders why you went back briefly, but decides not to ask

he is still so in love with you, and now you can be together forever!

leviathan

His envy for those in the celestial realm who could see you suddenly snuffed out when he saw you, horns protruding from your forehead

he was happy you came back, but what if it wasn’t for him after all he is ‘nothing but a gross otaku’

it takes a lot of convincing that you love him still, and are happy to be with him

but he can’t help but think, what if you would be happier in the celestial realm

why would you come back to the Devildom, rather than ascend to a new realm

He thinks about it a lot, but you manage to distract him, and after a while he revels in your affection

Satan

He is reading the book you left behind in your room for the thousandth time, pages wearing away in his fingers when he hears his door knocked on, in….

the pattern you always used to do

he thinks it’s a sick joke when you step into the room, scaly wings fluttering behind you

he cries, a flood of emotion since you died had built up and rereleased now. Why aren’t you in the celestial realm

it’s safer there

he loves you, but he’s not selfish and wants what is best, and he is sure that is the celestial realm

he builds up his relationship with you again, taking the time to know the new you, but still considering, if you could go to the celestial realm and he encouraged you

would you?

Would you leave like you should, or stay and fester in the Devildom?

asmodeus

Asmodeus is over the moon when he sees your text

‘I lived b*tch’ with an image of you, elegant horns swirling from your head

he is enthralled in your beauty, and the ribbon adorning the tip of your tail is bright pink, no way you’re a succubus

he is excited to have you back, he was on the tipping point without you

he is so much better than those in the celestial realm

but he often wonders if he’ll lose you again

but when that happens he puts on a smile and remembers that you love him

Beelzebub

beel is surprised by the smell of a human world dish you always used to make wafting to the attic

when he comes downstairs and sees a large pair of wings and swishing tail, he also notices your hair

it was the same as when you were in the Devildom for the first time

it feels as though a weight even he could not lift is pulled from him. you look stunning, and he makes sure you know

he is overjoyed you chose them over the Devildom and is happy you stayed, because it had felt like a chunk was ripped from his when you left

Belphegor

belphegor feels the bed dip beside him and an arm cross him

‘hey MC. waIT- they’re dead’

he shoots up and looks at you

when he sees your new form he tries to act unbothered, but fails

he strokes your cheek and holds you close to him and laughs when you apologise for waking him

the swirl of emotions seemed to almost boil over, but you came to take it off the heat

he is eternally grateful you chose them, your real home

he’s so happy you are back, because you seem to make the house a home

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morganalatina21 · 1 year

Text

Manipulating Death

(not my gif but i don’t know how to give credits, soo....

(Series?) Summary: When Harry discovers he has a twin sister that was hiding for years, he wants to know all about her, specially about her ability to bring people back to life.

Warnings: possible trigger for Sirius death (but it will pass, trust the process), tiny angst and my trash writing

a/n: So I decided to write a story abt Harry having a sister and her having a special connection with Regulus so I just decided to do it and transform it into a possible series cause I don’t think it would fit in a one shot.

(Also, english isn’t my first language so I’m sorry in advance lol)

*******************************************************

Solely one pair continued to fight, apparently not noticing Dumbledore's arrival. Harry watched Sirius dodging a red lightning coming from Bellatrix's wand: he was laughing at her.

"Come on, you can do better than this!" He screamed, the voice echoing through the cavernous room.

The second jet of light hit him right on the chest. The smile still didn't vanish from his face, but the eyes were wide open.

Harry let go of Neville, even though he had no conscious what he was doing. Yet again started to jump down the steps, pulling the wand, at the same time Dumbledore was also looking at the bed frame.

Sirius took an eternity to fall, it seemed; his body described a gracious arc and he dived with his back in the ragged veil. Harry saw the fearful and surprised expression on his devastated and once pretty face when he went through the arc and disappeared beyond the veil, that fluttered for a moment like a strong wind was blowing, and then became static once more.

Harry continued looking at the arc, ignoring Bellatrix's exaggerated screams, waiting for his figure to come back triumphant, a playful smile on his lips.

What finally got him out of that state was the shoving that almost led him to the ground; someone came running and pushed him out of the way, desperately trying to get to the arc and leaned forward, one hand only on the outside, but the body was fully taken by the veil.

"What the..." Harry heard, very close, only then realizing he only didn't fell because Lupin's hands stopped him.

With one big thrust, two people came out. The one that shoved him, carrying the heavy and pale body of his godfather.

The boy felt like he could finally breathe again, stumbling to get closer to Sirius, being followed by Remus.

Making sure that the Black was there, he really came back, now he could finally look at the person that had dived into the veil to save him. It was a girl, with dark clothing and shaky hands that adjusted Sirius on the floor.

Throwing himself right by the man's side, Harry tried to pronunciante a thankful sentence, anything, but the words were choked on his throat.

Looking back, the girl noticed Bellatrix became angry, so she put a hand on Sirius shoulder and held out the other one in Lupin's direction, which he took by reflex, and they were transported.

Harry fell on his knees on a carpet, in an ample but dark living room that reminded him of the house on Grimmauld Place, with upholstered chairs and paintings in the walls.

"Are you... Who I think you are?" Lupin asked, taking two steps behind and looking at the girl with a question mark on his face.

"Now's not the time, Remus." She answered simply, taking off Sirius' coat. "I need you to get me that second drawer." She instructed, pointing at a small closet in the corner of the room.

"Will he be okay?" Harry questioned, noticing how pale he looked like. Plus, he hadn't moved since.

"Yes. But I need to act quick, he came back from the dead way too fast, his body didn't had time to get used to it."

The boy felt his stomach drop, he really would've died. And he couldn't have done anything to stop it.

Lupin came back with a drawer full of potions glasses for the girl that, without even looking, pulled three different and layed them right beside her.

"How are you alive?" The professor asked, kneeling down and looking at her like she was the one that resurrected.

"I could ask you the same thing, godfather." Commented, looking at him with a sided smirk while opening one bottle and pouring half its content inside Sirius' nostrils with the help of a medicine dropper.

"Godfather?"

"Nice to meet you, Harry." She said, her smile expanding. "I'm your twin sister."

His eyes went wide. She did, actually, looked like the pictures he'd seen from his mother..

But still...

The girl kept herself nonchalant with her own words and continued the process of healing Sirius, whispering spells she knew like the back of her hand and using potions whenever was needed.

"My... what?"

"It's a really long story." She shrugged, cupping Sirius' face, fingers touching his temples, shaking ans murmuring phrases in Latin the boy did not knew.

After a few seconds in silence, where the two of them tried to understand what was happening, Sirius started squirming, his body trying to raise from the floor but giving up right on cue.

The Black's eyes started rolling and his mouth hanged open in a silent scream, the lights started flashing and the entire house seemed to shake.

The glasses in the drawer jingled and the windows knocking, making Harry feel like he was in one of those thrillers Dudley used to watch and wasn't able to sleep after.

The girl held his shoulders, making the spasms stop and got him to lay on his sides, opening his mouth and keeping his hair away from the face. Sirius started forcing his throat, choking and spitting as if he was about to throw up.

Harry expected some sort of sticky liquid to come out of his mouth, the normal in times like this; however nothing til that point seemed normal, so why would that?

What looked like the longs and dark legs of a huge spiders started so stretch out of Sirius lips, as if he had swallowed Aragorn. A black and fluttering form came out his body and stood up, one pair of red glowing eyes looking at Harry.

"Don't worry, it won't hurt you." The girl assured. "Just can't let it escape."

Right on schedule, the figure trotted off the door and the Potter grunted in frustration.

"Let it be." Sighed, nesting Sirius on her lap as he was catching his breath. "The house is sealed anyway."

"What was that?"

"A death possessor." Explained, gesturing Harry into handing her another bottle. "When someone dies very suddenly, a possessor invades their body and it has to do quickly turn off the five senses from when you're alive to when you're dead." Continued, opening the orange glass from her brother.

"After some time it starts do bend to your soul, so you can't return to the living layer of the world, cause it will be completely attached to you and won't let you have your life back. That's why most resurrection plans don't work out." She concluded, holding Sirius chin to make him drink, when the man started to mumble.

"Lily?"

Remus held his breath, the Black was still very shaken and couldn't realize that wasn't his friend.

"Hey Sirius."

"Is it really you? Where's- Where's James?"

"James' busy right now." She replied, keeping her face slightly turned so he couldn't really see her. "But come on, speak to me. It's been quite some time. Remember that time we talked by the Black Lake?"

Sirius' breath hitched and everyone in the room could see the tears staring to run from the corner of his eyes to his ears.

"I was trying to convince you to give James a chance." He told, a faint smile on the lips. "That he had sheltered me from my parents, and that he's a good person." His voice was just above a whisper, choking mid-sentence because of the crying.

"And you remember what I answered?"

Remus frowned. Why was she doing that? Leading Sirius to believe he was really talking to Lily, instead of bringing him back to reality?

"You said it made sense. And a week later said yes to a date with him." Sirius sniffed and coughed, his body shaking weakly. "That's why you two started dating."

"And I owe you for that one, Sirius." The man smiled through the tears. "But now you need to wake up." And turned the bottle on his mouth, the fluid escaping on the edges and the Black's eyes shut at the same time.

His body went numb on her arms, but the chest still rising and lowering lightly, indicating he as alive.

"Why did you do that?" The marauder asked, having the girl's eyes on him. "You're not Lily."

"I know" She nodded, carefully living Sirius asleep on the carpet with a pillow on his head and started standing. "But it's easier for him to believe he almost died and then saw his childhood friend than that he died and his best friend's daughter who is supposed to be dead saved him and now he's here."

Harry shook his head. Even he still didn't knew what was going on.

"He'll have a lot of things to get used to, and his body need some rest. So many changes in short time can cause damage. Last time something like this happened, he spent twelve years in Azkaban, so..."

A loud banging was heard coming from above and she sighed.

"You really couldn't handle that for me?" Questioned out loud, looking at the stairs.

"I'm busy." Someone replied, muffled because of the distance and a door closed.

Remus and Harry stared at each other, there was someone else?

"Well so am I, saving your brother by the way, you little fop." Countered, rolling her eyes.

A latch noise and hurried steps coming downstairs led to the reveal of a slender man, a little older than both Harry and the girl, black curls falling on his forehead leading to dark but pretty eyes.

Looking between the man lying on the floor and the new figure, the resemblance was clear, but if Sirius was the last Black alive...?

"Regulus Black?"

The man's eyes lifted from the sleeping human and finally took in the other two in the room, nodding to the older one. "Lupin."

"Seems like today's the day of coming back from the dead..." He spoke slowly, one brow arched at the younger Black while viewing every inch of him.

"Well, now that you're here I can go and deal with the possessor and you can deal with this." The girl said, gesturing in circles to them before sprinting upstairs.

"She was never really good at handling people." Regulus said after some time, trying to break the ice between them.

Harry took a step forward, for what his godfather had said, his little brother was a Death Eater and even though, allegedly he had died trying to leave the Dark Lord, there was no guarantee he would be gentle.

"Sirius said you were dead." He pronounced, his hand itching to reach for his wand. "Murdered on Voldemort's orders."

"You died." Lupin added, but the boy remained silent. "I remember it. It was right after Lily and James got married."

"That's... a long story." Regulus sighed, looking with the corner of his eyes to the stairs, almost wishing the girl would be done soon so he wouldn't have to explain it all by himself, but he knew better.

Then, an idea popped on his mind.

"And I think Sirius would like to hear it." Watched his brother sleeping, perhaps peacefully for the first time in the last fifteen years. "So why don't you tell Harry about his sister, I'm pretty sure you have no clue what's going on."

The boy looked at his professor, but spoke before him.

"Why would I trust anything you say? You were a Death Eater last time I checked."

"You're not trusting me by staying here or listening to me, you're trusting your sister." Regulus replied, his hands were on his back, standing up straight and looking nonchalant. "And if you think Y/n Potter would be evil, she wouldn't have saved Sirius in the first place."

"But she saved you." Remus countered. "I'm assuming you didn't faked your death to escape Voldemort, otherwise you would've asked for Dumbledore's help when he returned. And I don't see any reason why choosing to raise James' daughter would be good to you. Plus, she having saved you before explains why she seemed so calm handling Sirius."

The Black boy sighed, "Would you like a cup of tea so we can talk about it? I'm pretty sure you're tired. And when he wakes up, he will need some food." And without letting room for response, he started leading the way to the kitchen.

Harry breathed deeply, what the hell was happening?

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Next Chapter

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #regulus fanfiction #harry potter x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #manipulating death series

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freminet-writings · 7 months

Note

I’d like to request please! And I don’t mind the quality! You can never get better if you never try! 🥰 What about something sweet maybe with an older young lady? I want to ask for smut but I’m really not sure :/ I know it called him “young man” so I’d like to think he’s at least 18. And feel free to come on my page and request if you’d like anything too! 💋 Good luck to you! 🍀 Have fun here and welcome!

in this freminet is 19 and reader is 23/24 you can imagine whichever, i hope that's not considered too weird?

set during 4.1 archon quest, i didn't write smut for it bc i felt like it didn't fit with the mood with the whole he almost died and it's a bit too public lol but i will write another part with some if you want

after you and clorinde rescued freminet from the primordial water under the prison, you decided to stay back and watch him and the twins, even though he was alive and would be fine, you couldn't help but feel worried for him

you've met freminet a couple of times now, even though he was always shy and awkward and seemed to wanna run away at every opportunity, he slowly got used to you overtime, and even approached you on his own, even showing affection at times

you couldn't help but start gaining feelings for the boy, he was too adorable to resist, and his blush when he accidentally touched you or when he hugs you made you giddy

his siblings left the room to eat and hang out with the traveler and paimon, leaving you to tend after him, you didn't mind, you wanted some alone time with him anyway

but he seemed more awkward than usual, being unable to sleep for multiple reasons, you moved over to his bed and watched as he tensed up

"freminet? are you alright?" you spoke in a soft tone, placing a hand on his thigh comfortingly, but that only seemed to make him more nervous

he bit his lip and tried not to look at you "I'm fine" he mumbled "it's just... everything that happened today, it really...scared me" he looked almost embarrassed to admit it

you wrapped your arm around him, hoping to comfort him even just a bit "i understand, something like that is terrifying, I can't blame you for still feeling scared"

"it's..." freminet sighed and decided to come out with it "can i tell you something? and you promise not to hate me?

you nodded without hesitation, scooting closer to him as he took a deep breath "it's not just that, that scared me, do you want to know the last thing i thought about before i fainted?"

you nodded again, listening intently "i thought about lyney and lynette, father, master childe...and you, for some reason, i couldn't get you out of my head, i was thinking, would you be sad if i never came back? would you not care? and...do you feel the same way about me?"

your eyes widened slightly, your hand finding a gentle grip on his thigh as he continued "i couldn't stop thinking about how you'd feel, and what would happen if i got out of there, i thought to myself...if i get out of here, i should tell her, because... I'm scared that I'll be too cowardly like always and miss my chance, I'm just being stupid, right? there's no way a woman like you could love me anyway" he mumbled the last part

you couldn't help but laugh at that, was he really so oblivious? you brought him closer and engulfed him in a tight, warm hug, running your hand through his hair, you couldn't see it but you knew he was blushing and beginning to tear up

"y/n...?" he spoke so quietly you almost couldn't hear him, you moved back and held his face in his hands "you're not stupid, freminet, of course i love you, I'd be blind not to, you're so sweet to me, overall... you're just perfect for me" you didn't want to push him, but you can't help but move your focus to his lips

he seems to have the same idea, his eyes cast downward and he bit his lip "can i...can we, uh...kiss?" he said quietly and his face blushed, you giggled and leaned forward, kissing him softly

he couldn't even begin to describe how this made him feel, it felt like he was in celestia, like he was being kissed by a goddess, a beautiful, kind, and loving goddess

he wrapped his arms around your neck, letting his mouth open to let you slide your tongue in, making him feel even better, you pushed him down a little, and he moaned, his hand gripping onto your forearm

he couldn't help but press against you, loving how you felt on top of him, he thought that you wouldn't like him like that, feeling that he was young and inexperienced that you'd want somebody who had done more, but the way your tongue caressed every inch of his mouth made him know otherwise

you stopped after what felt like hours, his eyes were wide and he was left panting, you kept your hand through his hair, cuddling close to him as he finally felt good enough to sleep

and if lyney and lynette saw anything that night, they pretended as if nothing happened :)

#sorry if this is bad #i was getting a lil tired at the end #genshin impact x reader #freminet x female reader #freminet fluff

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20001541 · 1 month

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🙌 isekaied into captain hero afo au!!! Please share some ideas if you want!

yes, I have some! gonna be messy as I'm still thinking through a lot of things but here we go.

for people who don't know the premise of this au is that after afo dies in canon he gets isekaied into the captain hero comic universe and wakes up as captain hero. he's forced to be a good hero and he's unable to do any evil deeds. even if he tries they somehow always turn out to be good in the end.

anyways I like to this au as it's afo at his most miserable. his attitude is mainly like why couldn't whatever power out there that forced him here just have let him just die? why force him through this humiliating tirade? theres praise from civilians which he finds sorta nice, but then he's reminded of how captain hero will suffer a humiliating defeat by the demon king and all the pain and strife he has to go through until he defeats him once and for all. pain and strife that afo will be forced to go through and he's going to have to defeat the guy he's admired and wanted to be like since he was a kid. he thinks he should've been made the demon king in this world, he's so upset about this more than anything he's forced to fight the demon king not to take his spot but only to stop him from doing more evil. the demon king would be so confused as to why the hero is always complimenting his work lol.

but I think it would be an interesting way to explore the man beneath the villain persona. we all know afo has made his whole identity about being villain, to the point where he only goes by afo and nothing else. so you put him in a situation where he no longer has his power, total control and in the body of a character he hates. well it'll be interesting to see afo's true colours shine through as the mask he's so carefully crafted throughout the years begins cracking more and he is at his most vulnerable.

and as I said yes yoichi also got isekaied as well, he actually got isekaied into the body of an upcoming journalist thats chases after captain hero and tries getting pictures of him and talk with him. yoichi enjoys the quiet life and freedom he has. he only got to enjoy one month away from afo before dying so he's enjoying his freedom. so you can imagine how he feels when he sees afo once again only in captain heroes hero suit. at first he laughs right in his face then tries to get away because that's the last person he wants to see right now. afo is so so so happy, happier than he's ever been and he kind of forces him into a hug. he can suffer anything as long as yoichi is there by his side. he's basically like even if I wanted to kidnap you and force you to stay by my side (I do), I can't because the rules of this universe won't allow me to so you're safe :). yoichi isn't amused, but after some arguing he decides he'll keep in contact with afo and even help him with some hero stuff.

afo and yoichi get to talk with each other without having to fight each other and it's awkward. they choose to avoid the topic of the past when trying to spend time together however it's hard to ignore the elephant in the room. eventually though they begin having some normal conversations and get to know each other better. it feels oddly domestic and strange, but it's nice in a way and it also makes afo slowly realize how much happier yoichi looks and how yoichi was more willing to open up to him when afo isn't forcing his presence and beliefs on him. he won't admit it, but it hurts to see how much better yoichi seems without him.

there is a catch to all this however, yoichi actually took the place of a character that dies during some point in the story. yoichi knows this detail because he read past the first three volumes, but afo doesn't know because he stopped reading after volume 3. yoichi doesn't tell him about this until later on which almost causes afo to have a meltdown at the thought of losing yoichi all over again. most of the conflict lies here, will they even be able to save yoichi or will he just die a terrible death once more? is afo forever going to be forced into the role of the hero or can he get out of it? putting afo into situations he feels completely helpless in and has to cooperate with yoichi, good stuff to me. can't rely on your previous methods of getting out of trouble so what will you do now that almost everything has been taken away from you? that's all I really got lol.

#debating as to whether yoichi should have the memories his vestige has or all this yoichi remembers is the pain of falling into pieces #- and dying/ pros and cons to each side so idk yet #as I said this is a loose set of ideas so its not that developed well so sorry if this is a little messy

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jasntodds · 1 year

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Caving In [7]

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

Words: 16,820 (I know)

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of almost being murdered, blood, violence, fluff, the chapter is “if it’s too much to carry” because of the song by the same name by Jansen, The wldlfe, Jason is soft for 1 person and it’s the reader, Dick blames Jason for everything, mentions of being held captive, mentions of abuse (nothing in detail), this ends up being the softest thing I’ve ever written so

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: This is my favorite chapter!!!!! I’ve been looking forward to this since I wrote it so I hope you guys like it lol I am easily motivated to post more often when I get feedback 😂 The first few chapters take place between season 2 episode 1 and season 2 episode 2. You can add yourself 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 month, Gar and you continue to get closer. After the night you spent in Gar’s room, you both felt a bit closer. It was the best night's sleep you had gotten since your mom died. You didn’t even have a nightmare. You just slept the whole night perfectly comfortable against Gar. And Gar woke up with a lopsided grin that makes your stomach swirl. Since then though, you sleeping in his room has only happened one other time because you both fell asleep watching a movie. Neither of you really want to make it a routine too soon. You’re just friends and going through the motions of everything together.

But you’ve gotten to know each other through just hanging out. Gar has shown you almost all his favorite video games and you’ve made a good dent in movies Gar dreams as classics that you haven’t seen. You talked more about your hobbies, Gar finding out you prefer to rollerblade places rather a bike or walking and you found out Gar prefers a skateboard. It made you smile because it does fit him.

You talked more about your past lives, focusing more on happy moments like when you attended your first concert with your best friend. You beamed so wide, voice booming from the walls as you told Gar about the whole night. A storm hitting and the entire city losing power besides that arena, you getting to stand third row, the energy of place you explained as the closest to home you could get without being home. And Gar talked about his dad teaching him to ride a skateboard, how he fell several times and had his trucks so tight he couldn’t turn for over a month. He smiled and laughed the whole time, retelling the story of his mom being stressed cleaning his cut-up knees and hands. You spent hours just talking one night until Jason banged on your wall telling you to shut up. It only made you both laugh.

You and Jason have also been getting closer. You started training and the first week was pretty boring in comparison to what Jason had you do. But after a week and a half, Dick deemed you healed enough to train with the others. You still didn’t think it was enough. Two training sessions a day against two people who have already been training for 2 months and Jason who’s been training for over a year. You need to catch up so, you and Jason do an extra session late at night. Sometimes Gar even joins you and those are your favorites because it’s just the three of you. The three of you together have gotten close. Jason even tags along for some movie nights with just you and Gar, along with the movie nights with Rachel. Rachel doesn’t join you for the training though, she really does not like Jason.

Jason is still more closed off than Gar is but you tell him stuff and that gets him to talk a bit to you. Your conversations are either more banter-filled or a bit heavy. You both can talk about your trauma with each other in forms of a joke until one of you cracks and asks something a bit more serious. It’s one of the things you both kind of appreciate, the other knowing when the conversation should turn into something more productive without you having to get all dark and deep. And that’s something nice with having someone who’s gone through something similar with parental figures, it’s easier to talk about. But, you do talk about your interests.

You find out Jason hasn’t seen too many movies, mostly horror and comedies because that’s what he watched with his uncle. Jason is permanently invited to your and Gar's movie nights. And you find out he did the graffiti on his wall. Jason offers to add some to your wall as a joke but you jumps at it. And you tell him you tried before but could never grasp the whole spray paint thing.

Now, it’s your turn to pick a movie for group movie night and you pick Zombieland, a movie you declare as a classic and a must-watch. Jason and Rachel haven’t seen it but of course, Gar has and he backs your opinion of the movie. A classic horror comedy, a must.

“That’s the one with Emma Stone, right?” Jason asks as he plops down on the couch beside you, Gar following right behind him with two bowls of popcorn for the group to share.

“And Woody Harrelson and Jesse Eisenberg.” Gar states, taking his seat on the other side of you, sitting between you and Rachel.

“Who the hell is that?”

“The Social Network?” You question Jason and he just shakes his head. “You have really only seen like horror, huh?”

“It’s what my uncle watched.” Jason scoffs in defense.

“The Social Network is iconic.” Rachel states, stealing popcorn from one of the bowls.

“We’ll have to watch it. He plays Mark Zuckerberg.” You explain as you turn the TV on, ready to get the movie going but you’re sucked into a news report.

The other three continue the conversation about the Social Network and why Jason needs to see it. But, you’re so wrapped up in the news report, their voices are completely drowned out. Your breathing hitches and you instinctively hit the closed captains, making sure you’re hearing correctly and actually understand what they’re saying.

“What the fuck.” You mutter, seeing Jerry’s picture on the screen.

Your words grab the other three’s attention, all of them watching the news report. Jerry’s picture makes him look like not such a horrible guy. He’s got a big, warm, toothy smile. He looks like you’re average jo and it sends your blood into a rapid boil. They’re calling him an upstanding civilian. You shake your head letting out a dry, cold laugh. Jerry had supposedly saved a boy from a train, yanking him to safety and now the news says he’s such a great citizen. A real great guy who saved a kid, completely unaware of the horrors that took place in his very basement. Then they have the audacity to talk about how he tries to help kids all the time. It’s his true passion. He works with troubled youth at one of the youth centers in the city and wants kids to live up to their true potential. He explains, right to the camera with a big grin like he’s not a complete monster, that some kids need help to reach that. Not a punishment or to be looked down upon, just encouragement, to know they’re good enough and worth the effort. You nearly take your drink from the table and chuck it at the TV.

“What. The. Ever-living-FUCK.” You say, this time your voice is louder and filled with rage and shock. “What the fuck.” You’re almost shaking as you watch.

“Maybe we should shut this off.” Gar suggests, gently taking the remote from your hand before you start melting it.

“He’s such fucking liar and they’re all just eating it up!” You wave your hand at the TV in disbelief.

"The media loves a fake hero." Jason scoffs, sitting back in his seat with the shake of his head. It turns his stomach. Of all things for you to catch on the news, it's your captor being celebrated.

"I get permanently fucking traumatized and he gets a fucking medal." Tears sting the back of your eyes as anger courses through your veins. It feels like Jerry is spitting on the grave he dug for you.

"That's not right." Gar states, unsure of what to even say right now.

How is anyone supposed to comfort someone who's watching their abuser and kidnapper get recognition for being a good person? After they left them for dead, no less? Gar is pretty sure there are no words or actions that could possibly make you feel better or offer you any type of comfort. The most he can do right now is agree with you.

"Just turn on the fucking movie." You scoff, shaking your head as you match Jason's position.

Gar does as he's told and loads the movie, air in the room stiff. Gar wonders why Dick hasn't done anything. Maybe he thinks the four of you aren't ready to have a mission or maybe he thinks you’re too close to it, which you are, but surely something should have been done about him. It's more than it's you and they all know you and like you, it's that he almost killed you. Gar doesn't really understand how Dick didn't at least put on the Robin suit one last time and take care of him himself.

Jason glances to you and he wants to help. The guy should be dead for what he did and they still don't know if you were the only one he's done it to. He moved from Gotham, who's to say the reason he moved was because GCPD was actually catching onto something for once? You might not be the only one or the last one and this guy is just out there, claiming a sense of glory for making sure a kid didn't get killed by a train. That doesn't erase what he did or make some type of clean slate. He's a monster and someone should do something about the fucker.

But, none of them bring it up, they let you sit with it while the movie plays, almost hoping maybe it'll distract you. It is your choice and you raved about how it's one of your favorites. And it does help a little bit because Gar talks about how much he likes the typography animations of the film and Jason finds Columbus hilarious and can't believe he's survived the apocalypse so far. Rachel's favorite is, of course, Wichita. The three of them talking through the movie do lighten your mood enough to laugh when Tallahassee is so determined to get a fucking twinkie.

As the rest of the movie plays on, you shelve your anger about Jerry. You aren't going to let him ruin a movie night watching one of your favorite movies with people you actually like. So, you shelve it and figure you can deal with the anger later when you’re alone. You put on a happy face and joke with everyone else about the movie.

After the movie, you don't stay to talk like you normally do, a routine more that you, Gar, and Jason have developed since Rachel is normally pretty tired after the movie. Instead, you head to your room and lock yourself inside. The movie ended and the floodgates of fury opened. You can hear the broadcast echoing n the back of your head, seeing Jerry's face every time you blink. You can't let him live like that, thinking he got away with it. He can't just get away with what he did to you. With the public seeing him in such a good eye, he might get another foster kid. He'll say you ran away and foster kids do have a habit of doing that and then they'll probably give him another one. Another kid to torture and probably kill. You can't let that happen. So, you’re going to hatch a plan. But before you can get the plan worked out, a knock on your door pull your attention. You pause for just a second before choosing to ignore the knock.

"Y/n? It's Gar." Gar says through the door, worry laced in his words.

"Go away, please." You say, feeling bad for telling him to go away but not being in the mood to talk about anything. You don't want anyone to talk you out of this and Gar has the ability to do that.

"Please, let me in." Gar says through the door, his voice is a quiet plea and you ignore him again. He just wants to make sure you’re okay and you know that but you'll be fine after tonight. "Y/n?" There's genuine concern in his voice this time and you can't leave him out there any longer.

You come to the door, opening it slowly. "I just want to be alone, Gar."

"Please talk to me." Gar keeps his stance outside the door. "I'm worried about you."

Worried.

You let out a breath, hanging your head before letting him in. You shut the door behind him while Gar looks around your room. It's really coming along now. Framed movie posters line every wall and two pairs of shoes sit on the foot of your bed. A few vinyls are sitting on a desk next to a black turn table.

"That newscast is messed up." Gar turns to face you, brows wrinkling together.

"Yeah, little do they know, right?" You scoff, feeling the anger bubble in your stomach.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Gar asks. "It's okay if you're not."

"I'm just...upset." You admit. "Just sucked, ya know? But I really don't want to talk about it."

Gar's brows are knitted together, the concern is almost radiating off of him. "Maybe you should. I'm worried about you." He says with honesty.

Your jaw clenches as you shake your head. "I'm not gonna do anything or go off the deep end, okay? I'm fine." You lie right through your teeth and you can feel the guilt coating your stomach like thick charcoal.

Gar huffs, getting frustrated because he knows you better than that now. You’re not okay because you always let him in your room. Always. "I don't believe you."

"Well, that sounds like a you problem." You quip so quickly, you didn't even think about talking to Gar and now you feel even worse about it. "Gar--"

"No, no it's fine." Gar scoffs. "My problem for caring, right?" He shrugs, a look of defeat-covered sadness fills his face.

"I didn't..." You pause. This is one of the reasons you didn't want him in here. You know how you get when you’re this kind of upset and that's mean. "I didn't mean it....like that. I just..." You let out a sigh of defeat. "Thank you for caring about me and trying to protect me but this isn't your problem and I am not gonna put that on you."

"You can." Gar says as if it's the easiest thing in the world.

"I know." You nod, taking a step towards him. "I don't want to, though." Your eyes scan over his face. You’re so scared of scarring him and ruining him. There's only so much one person can take and Gar has already been through so much and seen too much. It's not your job to bring him down the spiral with you. "I'm sorry, Gar."

Gar is really good at reading people. He's spent so much time alone or in silence around other people that reading them has become a second nature thing for him. He can just do it without even thinking about it and he's normally right. The way you’re talking to him, the way you’re dodging his eyes, the way you were faking a smile during a movie that's supposed to be your favorite, there is something serious going through your head. Gar has to think it's more than just flashbacks because you would tell him about it. You walk the tower together, every single night to make sure Jerry isn't around so you can sleep. You’ve popped into his room twice now due to a nightmare. Something is going on and he's scared for you.

"I just want you to tell me what's going on." Gar almost pleads with her.

"I just want to be alone." Your voice is defeated, almost begging him to understand. "Can we just talk tomorrow about it, please? I'll come to you, I will. But for tonight, I just want to be alone about it."

Gar nods and he gives up. He won't force you to talk even though he's worried. But, his biggest fear is you going after Jerry and you promised you wouldn't do that. So, he takes your word for it and accepts it.

"Promise?" Gar asks.

"I promise." You give him a soft and small cornered smile. "Thank you for being here for me. You're really sweet, Gar." You nod at him, your eyes filled of heartache.

"No problem." Gar gives you a tight-lipped smile.

You close the distance between you and wrap your arms tightly around his neck. He always smells like strawberries, the smell of home to you. Gar wraps his arms around you tightly, almost begging you not to let go. If you’re hugging him, it means you aren't going off the deep end and you aren't going to spiral alone. He's right there and he will always be here. And you feel warm and comfortable, holding him close to you. He's always so warm, he just radiates heat and you adore it. You swear you could never feel cold or alone again as long as Gar is near. But, right now, your bones are aching to be frozen. Your heart is pleading with you to let the cold shatter you into a million shards. Every part of you wants to be freezing because freezing is sometimes so much easier than being warm.

Freezing is being alone and tired. Freezing is the feeling right before the rage sets in. Freezing is the acceptance of the rage that will come and the actions to follow. Everyone talks about how anger is red and hot. But, for you, it's always been subzero temperatures because it's lonely being so angry. At least when you’re warm, it means you have someone in your corner, cheering you on, not letting the ice freeze over you when you’re drowning, trapping yourself in a lake. Being hot is allowing yourself to vent and get it all out but freezing keeps you in place. Pondering and pacing about every horrible thing you’ve been dealt, the anger is the only thing keeping your heart pumping and something about the cold is addictive like a menthol cigarette so you let him go.

"Thank you."

Gar nods. "Just, come to my room if you change your mind." Gar's hands linger on your back and you nod.

Gar breaks away and leaves you to yourself, a sense of guilt filling his stomach. It doesn't feel right but he doesn't know what else to do. He can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped even if that's the hardest pill to swallow. Gar is always the helper but you don't want his help. And he wonders if you’re too far gone to be helped right now. You’ve been through a lot and he wonders what is too much for one person. At some point, does someone just lose it and become something worse in the end? He doesn't want you to end up like that. But, he goes to his room and shuts the door, keeping it unlocked in case you change your mind, begging the universe to let you change your mind.

But you don't.

You decide you can wait until everyone goes to bed and then head to the comms lab. There you can look up Jerry, just like Jason and Gar did with you. You can probably get his address since this is Batman's house. Surely, the computers have access to a bunch of shit they shouldn't. From there, you can get a cab or an uber or walk if you have to, all the way to Jerry's and kick his ass.

In all honesty, you aren't completely sure if you’re ready but you have enough confidence and rage to shrug it off. If he knows you’re alive and kicking, that's almost enough. He has to know he did not win against you and it is not over. You want revenge and justice and you want him to never do that to anyone else again. And in your head, this plan will work. If he comes after you, he’ll have to fight the others Titans, too and he’ll lose.

You choose to ignore how Dick will react when he finds out. Dick has the codes for the whole building that monitors who comes and goes at any time. Surely, he'll know someone left and when he checks the camera, he'll see you. If he figures it out, so be it. You’re perfectly willing to take the chance, especially because you know Robin wasn't always a defensive fighter. You’ve seen your share of older Robin videos when Robin still would have been Dick and he would fight unprovoked sometimes. You’re sure he had a reason but the other guys didn't start the fight. To you, going to Jerry to pick a fight, is justified. So, you wait it out in your room.

It's been about three hours when you decide the coast is probably clear and safe for you to head out. You open your door and check the hallway, only seeing faint light from the city. You take that as a good enough sign everyone is in bed and you head to the comms lab. From there, you input the code which you find to be a bit funny that all of you have access to it. Getting Jerry's address was a lot easier than you expected it to be. It was in your files from the foster care system, even his Gotham address was in there which, apparently, he still owns the home.

Once you have the address in your phone, you head back to your room. You figured you'd get the address first and then get changed into something all black. This way, if you happened to wake someone up while getting the address, you could buy a little more time just to make sure no one was onto you. And it seemed to work. You changed without any issue and are on your way out, walking into the common area and almost to the elevator when a voice scares you.

"What're you doing?" He gives a scruffy laugh.

You wince, freezing and slowly turning around. "What are you doing?" You echo, crossing your arms.

Jason is seated at the snack bar, arms over his chest and a devilish grin tugging at his lips. "Asked you first." Jason quips.

"I'm not doing anything. Your turn."

Jason gets up from his seat at the barstools. He knew you'd be up to something. No one gets that mad about something and just lets it go during a two-hour movie. He actually thought you'd go to the training room and end up hurting yourself somehow so he waited and listened for you to come out of your room. He went straight for the kitchen only to see you not there and you weren't in the training room. So, he waited, curious as to what you were up to.

"Right." Jason nods, walking up to you. "Ya look like you're up to something." Jason looks you up and down, noticing the all-black attire, something you don't normally wear.

"You look like you're up to something." You raise, stumbling on your words. You have nothing. No ammunition in your arsenal for him. Jason isn't stupid or gullible.

"You're fucking bad at this, ya know that?"

"Bad at what?" You plays dumb.

"You're going to find him, aren't you?" His eyes narrow just slightly as his brows twitch up and you think he might actually be intrigued.

You pause and are you that obvious? Of course, you do look suspicious creeping around the tour at two in the morning when everyone else is asleep. You’re not in pajamas, you look like you’re going to rob someone. It's not a good look and you almost feels dumb for thinking you'd get away with it. But, why is Jason up then?

"You gonna stop me?" You challenge him.

Jason lets out a breath. "Nope." He shakes his head and you raise a brow at him. "Dick's gonna kill you if he finds out though."

"So, don't tell him." You snip.

"Let me come with you." Jason's eyes look you up and down. He doesn't want you to go alone. If it goes south, well, he'd rather not think about that.

"No." You chortle back. "This is my thing."

"Yeah? And if he has powers? You think of that?" Jason questions.

"I have powers. I can take him." You shake your head, your voice defensive but almost whiney.

"Come on." Jason sighs. "Just to make sure you don't get yourself killed or some shit."

You narrow your eyes. "Didn't realize you cared so much about my well-being." Sarcasm drips off your words and you almost think Jason has some other angle he’s trying to work here.

"You always gotta be such a bitch?" The last word has a touch of sarcasm to it.

"You always gotta be such an asshole?" You echo him in the same tone.

Jason gains the smallest of grins as he licks his lips. "I won't tell Dick."

You shake your head and it is a good idea to bring him. As much as you want to think you can take Jerry on your own, he has a point. For all you know, he does have powers and if his powers are better than yours or stronger, you'll need help. You haven't had the training and despite Jason not having powers, he's very good without them and can hold his own. Bringing him would at least probably make sure you don't get herself killed or recaptured.

"Fine." You sigh. "Okay."

"I'm gonna go get my suit." Jason’s voice fills with excitement as he spins on his heels, heading towards his room.

"Of course you are." You nod and take a seat at one of the chairs while you wait for Jason.

Jason doesn't take long, he was much quicker than you thought he would be. But when he comes out, you get to actually see him in the Robin suit for the first time in person. A part of you thinks he looks a little ridiculous, it's something about the cape. You never understood the cape. Hasn't Batman ever seen the Incredibles? But, there's another part that finds it pretty endearing. He holds himself higher in the suit, and it's not just the boots adding around three inches to his height. Jason is even daunting a genuine smile.

"What?" Jason asks, catching the look you’re giving him.

You move from your place at the counter and walk over to him. You get a better look at the detail and you’ve never seen a suit up close. It's kind of cool actually. You reach out and touch the cape, it doesn't feel like a standard, run-the-of-mill fancy fabric. It’s interesting and it’s a lot thicker than you thought but it doesn’t feel heavy.

"Made with zylon fibers." Jason gives this arrogant grin as you drop the cape.

"Mm." You hum. "Which is what?" You eye him carefully.

"Synthetic material." Jason explains and wiggles his brows. "Six times stronger than kevlar." He is beaming and it sends a rush of bubbles to your stomach.

"So, you're bulletproof?" You ask, matching the smirking expression on Jason's face.

"Pretty much, flame retardant, too." Jason's head is held high and there's this look in his eyes as if expecting you to be amazed and impressed.

You have to drop the teasing grin, turning more into amazement because of course you’re amazed by it. "That's..."

"Sick, right?"

"Yeah, actually. That's fucking awesome." You gush. You never understood the cape but now you do. It protects him and suddenly, you actually really like it. On him.

Jason laughs softly to himself, looking to ground and back to you. "Ready to kick some ass?"

"Hell yeah." You nod your head, quickly walking to the elevator.

"Here." Jason hands you a helmet as you both get into the elevator.

"Oh, you really have a bike?" You ask as you take the black full-face helmet from him.

"Why is that shocking?" Jason chortles.

You shrug. "Dunno, guess it makes sense. You're not like a bad driver, right?" You tease him.

"Fuck you." Jason scoffs. "Can you even drive?"

"Shut up." You huff. "No, I was held captive, remember?" Your eyes widen at him.

"I can teach you." Jason holds his head high, keeping his stare forward.

"Sounds illegal, Jason."

"Because what we're doing is legal."

"What if you just drive me around?" You give him a toothy smile.

"I'm not your chauffeur but nice try." Jason laughs and he knows if you asked, he'd drive you across the country.

"Awww." You pout your bottom lip at him but Jason just rolls his eyes.

"Real cute." Sarcasm drips from his words.

"I know." You give him a cheeky smile.

The rest of the elevator ride is quiet and you follow Jason to the parking garage. His bike is parked off in a corner with a cover. Jason rips the cover off with ease. The bike is a matte black Kawasaki sports bike. Of course, it's a sports bike, Jason wouldn't have a cruiser. Somehow, it's all very fitting and the very idea of Jason driving something like a Prius makes you almost laugh to yourself. The bike is better.

"Come on." Jason nods his head towards the bike as he swings a leg over, kicking up the kickstand.

You follow his lead, Jason tilting the bike slightly so you can actually get on. Once you’re situated, Jason looks over his shoulder at you and he has this boom in his chest. He doesn't let people on his bike but you’re different. You’re on a mission and he's not gonna let you get yourself killed. And he's in his Robin suit while you’re dressed in something of a suit yourself since it's not your usual wardrobe. Jason doesn't think he needs help kicking ass but the idea of having you with him? That's something he could definitely get used to. Maybe you'll make a good team.

"Ever been on a bike before?" Jason asks.

"Nope." You pop the 'p'.

"Alright, just hold on." Jason smirks at you and you deadpan.

"Ya know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this is your way of hitting on me." Your mouth twitches up into a teasing grin.

"Good thing you know better." Jason quips, the smirk not budging. "Put on the helmet." Jason says as he slides his on, buckling it under his chin. You follow his lead, the helmet a little big on you but you’re not going to complain. A helmet is a helmet. "Hold on." Jason nods once at you before sliding the face shield down and turning back around. You put your own shield down and hold onto his waist, the cape bunched between the two of you.

Jason takes off and your grip tightens around him. You’ve never even known anyone who owns a motorcycle, let alone had the chance to be on one and it's a bit scary at first, especially with you not knowing how Jason is as a driver. But, after a few minutes, you get used to it and find it a bit fun. It's a little cold with the winds against you but the city zips by you and there's a thrill and a sense of freedom that comes with it. You get why he likes it.

You gave Jason the address in the elevator so his phone could give him the directions. The GPS instructs him through the com system in the helmets. Jerry's house is just outside of the city. Not too far from where Dick had found you and you get why you were dumped there. You looked like just another homeless kid and if you were dead, it's likely the police would have thought that's all you were. Another homeless kid, another runaway, another addict. Maybe they would have cared a little bit here but you grew up in Gotham where it was normal so you don't think it would have been a big deal. But, finding a body in suburbia? That's almost always some type of big thing. The city makes sense.

You reach Jerry's house in about twenty minutes but Jason parks in the alley. The alley behind the house is secluded, no cameras and some bushes that shield you and the bike. You get off the bike first and then Jason. While Jason pushes it towards a tree to hide it a bit more, you stand outside the fence leading into Jerry's yard.

It's a pale wooden picket fence with a gate. It's basic but not too basic like the Cleavers, not to raise suspicion probably. But it makes your blood pressure spike. You can't believe you’re back here and you could turn around, call it quits. This could end badly. It definitely could and your plan wasn't well thought out. What are you supposed to do? Walk inside and just go off? What if one of the neighbors hears? What happens if this gets you and Jason arrested? Does Dick have any pull here to get you both out of it? If he does, would he help you or just Jason? Maybe this was a bad idea.

"You alright?" Jason asks as he stands next to you.

You look to him, worry written across your face. "Yeah, uh, j-j-just can't believe I'm here."

Even in the dim light of the alley, Jason can see there's something wrong. "If you wanna go back, we can."

You’re seriously considering it but you’re so mad. The broadcast plays back in your head, them calling Jerry a fucking hero. He's a hero? You’re standing next to fucking Robin. You were welcomed into being a fucking Titan and Jerry, Jerry the abusive piece of shit is a hero. That sends your blood into a boil again and eases every what-if situation from your brain.

"No, I'm good." You nod up at Jason before walking up to the gate.

You unlock the gate, allowing Jason in first while you close the gate behind you. And then there’s the house. It's such a basic, small, family suburban home. It's a light red brick, white trim. One floor with a decent patio and patio furniture. It is so simple and so basic, no one would ever know what happens in that house and that irks you. It's not a creepy run-down place where everyone has some type of urban legend about him kidnapping kids. His house, his perfectly cut yard, him, it all seems so fucking normal and he might as well be a Cleaver.

"Gonna break down the door or some shit?" Jason asks just above a whisper.

You roll your eyes at him. "He's such an upstanding citizen, surely he has a key, right?" You ask, looking up to Jason.

"Lead the way then." Jason gestures a hand out in front of him.

You walk over to the door and you do find it a bit convenient that the fence Jerry chose is so high. Someone would need a step stool to actually see over the fence and he has a fair amount of trees as well. You push the idea of why he'd want so much privacy away as you go up to the door.

"If I were a fucking psycho, where would I hide a key?" You ask, mostly to yourself as you look around. "Flowerpot is too obvious and so is the rock and the mat." You mutter and Jason watches you, questioning if you'll actually find a key. "I don't want people to think I'm a psycho so I would have a key, in case I get locked out or something." You continue. "Somewhere people can get but not too...." You crouch beside the glass outdoor table and look under it. "Idiot." You scoff as you find a key duct taped under the table. You rip it from the table and pop back up. "Got it."

"Nice." Jason congratulates you. "How'd you know?"

"Spent a lot of time here, you figure out where people would hide shit when you literally have nothing else to do but watch them." You explain as you walk to the door, gently placing the key in the keyhole.

"Fair enough." Jason shrugs. "Hey, you're not gonna kill him, right?" Jason asks as you get the door unlocked. He doesn't want you to get killed but he doesn't want you to get that kind of blood on your hands. None of you are supposed to be killing people, even if they might deserve it and Jason's worried Dick might kick you out if you do. Jason has a bad feeling about it.

"Of course, not." You shake your head. "I hate him and want him dead but I won't give him that satisfaction either." You assure him.

You take a deep breath, hand on the handle of the door. You shake your head and open it quietly. You take a few steps inside, Jason right behind you. You can hear a TV coming from the front of the house and a faint light coming from in front of you. You walk quietly through the kitchen, the TV getting louder as you approach the open room with the light.

Jerry is sat in a Laz-E-Boy recliner watching some game show. He looks so comfortable and content. That's enough for you to lose all of your inhibitions. You walk from behind the wall and come right into plain view, something Jason did not expect you to do. He thought maybe you'd sneak up on him but this is bold and that's when he starts to worry that you'll actually lose it. So, he walks up behind you.

You have a harsh stare on Jerry as he jumps slightly in his seat, the appearance of two people in the house catching him off guard. You know it's because he's too comfortable with where he is. No one expects anything, why would he be the one on guard? Meanwhile, you’ve been living in a constant state of paranoia.

"Y/n?" Jerry says your name and it sounds like nails on a chalkboard coming from him. But all you do is stare at him, fighting off the warming of your hands. He can't know he won.

He stands up from his recliner and makes the short walk over to you, expecting you to back away in fear but you don't. You hold yourself tall, not breaking eye contact with the stare that could kill. Jason takes a step forward as if it were an instinct, almost waiting for Jerry to do something, ready for Jason to not let him lay a hand on you. Jerry ignores him and instead, gains a sinister smile as he looks down to you.

"You're back." His voice is almost cocky like he knew that if you were alive somewhere, you'd show back up and you can't quite figure out why he would ever think that. You'd rather be on the streets. It's not like you weren't on the streets before. "I thought you were dead." He scoffs like it's some sort of taunt, a warning maybe.

Maybe he would kill you now if given the chance. Maybe that was his intention. You can't fucking tell what the point of it is. What you do know, is that you’re fucking done looking at his smug face.

"Surprise, bitch!" You yell before grabbing his head and bringing it down, kneeing him in the face in one quick motion.

Jason takes a step back, allowing you to just go at it. Jerry stumbles and you don't take a second to let him breathe. You’re quick to start landing punches and kicks, using all of your strength. You grab the collar of his shirt and drag him to the ground before punching his face as hard as you can. Punch after punch lands and you can't figure out who you are or what you’re doing now. Everything has turned red. Flashes of what he did to you cross your eyes with every blink. Everything comes back in a tidal wave, pulling you under so far you can't focus on anything besides making sure he never gets up to do that to you again. But at some point, it starts to look concerning from where Jason is standing.

You’re going to kill him if he doesn't stop you. Jerry had no chance which, if Jason wants to be honest, is a bit surprising. You haven't been training long and you’re not great at it. You have a lot of fight though, he'll give you that but he never thought you'd hold your own, not yet anyway. Jason always felt you had a long way to go and so did Dick. But, apparently, the rage and adrenaline flooding you is enough to fill the gaps of your fighting technique and it's scaring him a little. He won't let you kill him.

Jason moves behind you, bending over and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you off of him. You fight Jason as hard as you can but Jason is still much stronger than you are. You punch and kick the air, tears wetting your cheeks, something you hadn't even noticed.

"Let me go!" You wiggle around but Jason just wraps his arms tighter, falling to the floor with you.

"You're gonna fucking kill him." Jason says in your ear. "Stop." Jason holds you against his chest. He will not let you kill him as much Jason wants to see him dead. You don't deserve to live with his blood on your hands. He won't let you.

"I don't fucking care!" Your voice nearly cracks as you fight him. Everything is red and blurry. You hate him and you aren't done yet. He tortured you for a year. You want a few more punches in. You don't care that he's not moving.

"Fucking stop!" Jason yells at you. "You're not fucking killing him, alright? And I'm not letting you go until you stop." His voice comes back down and his grip is still tight.

"He doesn't deserve to live!" The yell that comes from you is more of a sob. "He was gonna kill me!"

"I know." Jason's voice is understanding but stern. "You can't kill him. That's what he wants you to do. You wanna be like him?"

You pause for a second, trying to regain your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest while your stomach burns. You don't want to be like him but you hate him so much. Jerry stole so much from you and he's so content with himself. It's not fucking fair and how are you supposed to live knowing that? But, with Jason holding you still, you get a look at Jerry for the first time without tears clouding your vision. He's covered in blood. There's blood coming from his nose and his mouth, red marks smothering his face. He's unconscious and you know Jason is right. You can't kill him.

"Okay." You suck in a shaky breath, a hiccup following. "Okay."

"I will drag you outta here kicking and screaming if you go again, alright?" Jason asks before loosening his grip.

"Okay." You nod, swallowing the hard lump in your throat. You can't kill him but you do need to check something. "Stay." You mutter to him, your legs weak as you get up, nearly tripping over Jason.

"Where the fuck are you--"

"I'll be back." You start your walk down a hallway off the living room, almost zombie-like.

Jason sits on the floor, staring at Jerry. He really hates this fucker, too. But he knows you're gonna have to get out of here soon. He doesn't think you were too loud and he checks the windows, not seeing any of the neighbors' lights turned on. But, you can't spend too much time just in case. So, he ties Jerry up with some rope he brought and gags him, just to make sure he doesn't come to and escape while Jason grabs you.

Jason walks down the hall and spots you standing outside of a door with several locks going up to the doorframe. You’re just standing there, not moving or saying anything. It doesn't take a mastermind to figure out that's the door to the basement. That's the only reason there would be so many locks. The guy was prepared for you, or anyone, to try and break out. Jason knows why you never could now. All those locks, what looks to be a thick door. You never would have had the strength and it breaks his heart.

"We gotta get outta here, Y/n." Jason says from behind you, there's an urgency to his voice.

"Door is locked." You mutter, almost as if you’re in a haze.

"Yeah." Jason agrees and he's watching you carefully, not sure what you’re going to do next.

"It wouldn't be locked if he didn't have a replacement." You shake your head, the fury you felt just seconds ago fades knowing what you'll find in that basement.

Jason's heart sinks into his stomach. He never thought you'd find someone else and he hopes you’re wrong. But, just in case you’re not, he doesn't fight you when you reach for the locks with bloody and shaky hands. You unlock six lock and open the door with hesitance. A single lightbulb illuminates the landing at the bottom of the stairs. You remember sitting there for hours before Jerry finally chained you up.

You'd run up the stairs at full speed, running into the door. It never worked and it usually led to you falling down at least a few stairs. It's nightmare fuel. But, you take a deep breath and forces yourself to walk down the stairs. Jason looks over his shoulder, making sure Jerry isn't behind you and he follows you carefully.

You’re steady with your steps as you reach the bottom. The basement is the exact same how you remember it. Dingy and grey, bad lighting, and nothing for any source of entertainment. There's no sign of food or water. All there is Jerry's experiment table with a medicine cabinet. He keeps sedatives in there from what you remember. Your bones ache as you look around until you spot the dentist-style chair you spent so much time in. But it's not empty.

"Oh, fuck." Jason sighs behind you, seeing a boy chained to the chair.

"You should call Dick." You say, your voice flat.

"He's gonna be pissed. Are you sure?" Jason looks to you and he knows it's the right thing to do but he won't call if you’re not sure.

"Yeah, he'll know what to do." You nod your head as you make your way to the boy.

Jason pauses for a second and watches you. It's great that you came and found this kid but he wonders how bad it's gonna mess you up. It'd mess anyone up, returning to the place of horrors to find someone else in their place. But, Jason doesn't sit on it, he runs up the stairs to call Dick and check on Jerry.

You approach the boy who can't be more than ten. You’re a little relieved looking at him. His cheeks are still pudgy and he doesn't seem to have any bruises or swelling. But the boy is scared, jerking away from you to the best of his ability.

"Hey, I-I-I'm Y/n." You whisper to him. "I'm not gonna hurt you." You take one of the chains in your hands, using the other to melt the chain away from where it had him connected to the ground. Once the boy is freed, he's almost too scared to move. "Did he hurt you?" You ask.

"N-no." The boy's voice is small.

"Okay." You offer him a small but warm smile. "We're gonna get you out of here, okay?" The boy shakes his head. "My friend is upstairs and he's calling another one to help. Do you have parents?" You ask. The boy nods. "Do you know where they are?"

"M-my mom's...." The boy struggles for words, voice shaking. "In the hospital."

"Foster care until she's better?" You ask and the boy nods. "Okay, um...I used to live here, too." You tell him. "It's pretty scary but then my friends saved me. He's not gonna hurt you, okay?"

"Where is he?" The boy asks.

"Upstairs." You answer plainly and you catch the boy glancing to your hands. You finally realize they're covered in blood, seeing a few deep cuts on your knuckles. "It's just mine, I'm okay." You partially lie to him. "Are you from here?" The boy nods again. "I'm from Gotham. Heard of it?"

"Batman is from there." The boy says.

"Yeah," You give him a smile. "Pretty cool, right? Batman and Robin fighting bad guys." You see a faint smile pull at his lips. "Robin is upstairs, that's who my friend is."

"Your friend is Robin?"

"Mhm." You hum. "Pretty cool, right?" You ask him and he nods again, this time with a little more energy. "Don't tell anyone, but he's kind of twerp." You try to lighten the mood and the boy laughs faintly. "His cape is bulletproof though so I guess that makes up for it."

"It's bulletproof?" The boy's voice picks up just slightly.

"I know right, he just told me though and it's fireproof."

"That's cool."

"Right? It's pretty fancy."

"Why don't you have a suit?"

"I'm not really a hero yet but maybe I can talk to his guy about it one day." You scrunch your nose.

After a few more minutes of conversation with the boy, you mostly trying to keep him distracted, Dick shows up. He is pissed, so beyond pissed in fact, he almost doesn't look mad. He can't believe you and Jason really snuck out of the tower on your own and went to hunt down Jerry. Behind his back. You both have actually lost your minds. Dick doesn't know what he's supposed to do with the two of you. You can't do this, this is not what the Titans do. This was just reckless. Sure, you’re new and still filled with unresolved trauma, but Jason? He expects so much more from him.

Jason directs Dick into the basement after Dick sees Jerry. Dick just held the bridge of his nose while Jason explained what happened. He really cannot believe this but he just tells Jason to make sure Jerry doesn't go anywhere while he goes to get you. Dick walks down into the basement and he gets a sense of what you went through. This was the only thing you saw for an entire year. The only person you saw was Jerry and it sheds some light on how you ended up here right now. Not fully because Jason didn't get much chance to explain what lead you on a mission tonight of all nights.

But, Dick shelves it for the time being as he sees you with a boy. This fucker had another kid trapped. It's unbelievable and Dick should have done something about him himself. It always should have been your fight but had Dick known there was another kid, he would have done it. This shouldn't have had to fall onto your shoulders.

"That's my other friend, who's friends with Robin." You tell the boy as Dick approaches.

"I'm gonna take over, is that alright?" Dick asks the boy and smiles kindly at him.

"He's the one that found me and saved me. You can trust him." You give the boy a reassuring smile. And the boy gives you a nod.

Dick pulls you aside. "Are you okay?" Dick asks, seeing the blood on your hands.

You nod. "Yeah, I think it's mostly Jerry's." You whisper to him, not making eye contact.

"Okay, good." Dick nods with a hand on his hip. "Home. Now." Dick says through gritted teeth. "I will deal with the both of you when I get back." Dick shoos you upstairs and you wave at the boy before darting up the stairs.

You find Jason in the living room with Jerry still. You find it a little hard to look at Jason and Jerry. Jerry is a little too bloody and you’re thankful Jason pulled you off of him. You shouldn't kill him and you don't actually want to. Had Jason not been there, you’re afraid you wouldn't have been able to stop. You hope you would have but you’re not sure. But, Jason also witnessed all of that and that's the embarrassing part of it.

"Let's go." You ignore Jerry, walking past Jason and heading to the back door.

Jason is right on your heels, following you outside. He hates that he had to call Dick for this but Jason doesn't know how to handle another victim. You sure as shit shouldn't have to. Dick could at least, probably, clean up the mess. He was a detective and he is, legally, Bruce Wayne's son. Jason is sure Dick won't have issues with this but if it were just Jason and you, that might be an issue. He knows he had to but he still hates it.

"Hey." Jason calls after you as you open the gate but you ignore him. "Y/n." Jason continues as you reach the bike.

"Yeah." You say, turning to face him.

"You alright? That was nuts." Jason's words have almost a touch of hesitance.

"Peachy."

"Don't bullshit me." Jason scoffs.

You don’t ignore him. You never ignore him and you have a distant look in your eyes. He knows you’re not okay and you shouldn’t be after that.

You shake your head. "I don't fucking know, alright?" You grab the helmet from the ground. "Dick's pissed and he'll probably kick me out, ya know? But...Jerry is just..." You scrunch your nose as if fighting off something between fury and agony. "A monster."

Jason nods, walking up to you. "Yeah, he's a piece of dog shit. Doesn't deserve shit from anyone." Jason agrees with you. "Do you feel better?"

You shake your head weakly this time. "No." You finally make eye contact with him. "Not really."

"You should." Jason states. "He deserved it."

"I dunno." You scoff, your eyes feeling heavy as the adrenaline starts to crash. "I'm just..." You pause, looking away from him. "I'm so...pissed, I guess? But then I'm sad and upset and then I get mad again." You rolls your shoulders. "Like all I wanna do is lose my fucking mind over it but then I can't because I have to have some sort of control. Like I can't just take it out, it's bottling up over and over. And this didn't help the way I thought it would because it still fucking happened to me." You choke down a cry. "It's fucking heavy and it still fucking happened and....it didn't fucking help."

Jason looks to the ground, feeling sad for you. He's never been through anything like this. You have similar trauma from Gotham but this, this is uncharted. He can't imagine what you’ve gone through. Just the glimpse tonight tells him it was, without a doubt, torture. But he wants to help because he cares about you. Jason cares more about you than he has about anyone else. You deserve better.

He gestures a hand, making a fist at you to signal for you to give him the helmet. You hand it over. "Take it out on me." Jason offers, switching the helmet from his right hand to his left. "And put it on me." His words are filled of ease as if it were the easiest thing he's ever said.

"What?" You furrow your brows at him, your eyes scanning over his face.

"Take it out on me. You're fucking pissed about it? Spar with me, I'll go easy on you so you can get all that shit out. You're fucking sad about it? Rant to me until you feel better." Jason looks to the ground and then back to you. "I'll carry your shit for you, alright?"

"W-why?"

Jason doesn't tell people how he feels, not usually. It makes him uncomfortable. It puts too much pressure on him. It makes him too exposed to the elements of being broken. He cares about you and he knows you’re not that dense. He doesn't have to tell you.

Jason shrugs. "Just trying to help."

You wipe your face with your shoulder, feeling a sad smile come to your face. "That's awfully nice of you, Jay."

Jason finds the nickname endearing coming from you. "I can be nice."

"Sometimes." You joke softly. "Um...thanks for...coming with." Your smile falls as your brows furrow. "And for not letting me kill him."

Jason's smile is warm. "Anytime." The warmth in Jason's chest is nice, comforting even and something he hasn't felt, ever. "Let me see your hand." Jason sticks out his hand as he closes the small distance between you but you just quirk a brow at him. "Your hands are covered in blood, let me see how bad it is, damn."

You laugh softly, putting your right hand in his. "Starting to hurt a little." You mutter as you pull out your phone, shining the flashlight on your hand.

"You brought your phone?" Jason laughs. "Dick could have tracked that." Jason shakes his head, examining your hand. "Shit's gonna hurt in the morning."

"Yeah, pretty sure I got his teeth in a few punches."

"No fucking shit." Jason chortles, seeing the cuts across your hand. "You gotta clean this when we get back."

"Yeah, that'll be fun." You scoff. "Ready to get out of here?" You ask.

Jason drops your hand, giving you the helmet back. "Don't get blood on my suit." He smirks at you, waking just past you to grab his own helmet.

"I'll try my best." You mock, waiting for him to mount the bike. "Bulletproof, fireproof, but what? Blood stains are where the line is drawn?"

"No, I just don't that dickweed's blood on my suit." Jason chortles.

"Mhm." You follow his lead, getting on the bike as he leans it. "Sure, that's it."

"Shut up and put the damn helmet on." Jason shakes his head, putting his own helmet on. You laugh, putting the helmet on and sliding the face shield down before leaning forward and wrapping your arms around his waist. "Ready?" He asks, barely looking over his shoulder and he feels you nod against his back before turning around and sliding his face shield down and taking off.

Back at the tower, you and Jason go your separate ways for a few minutes. You go into the bathroom to start cleaning up your hands and Jason goes off to his room to change out of his suit. While you get the supplies, you’re faced with some confusing feelings.

Jason is a lot of fun to flirt with and he's really cute. You actually like his arrogance and snarkiness. He's tough and smart, much smarter than people wanna give him credit for but you also know he's dangerous. He's rough around the edges and a bit of a wild child. Jason is just as fucked up as you are and you find a sense of comfort in that. He chooses to be angry and have a bit more violence to himself. He can be kind of soft if the moment fits, but he likes to fight. And for you, it's comforting because that's the only thing you want to do lately. Fight and be angry. It's nice to know you’re not alone in that. And he makes you feel safe and understood without even trying. But, you do also find a sense of comfort in Gar.

Gar never would have let you go tonight. He would have been able to talk you out of it. Jason didn't even really try. Gar, despite his trauma, chooses to be kind and gentle. It's a foreign concept to you. To choose the opposite of what you’re dealt. But there is something refreshing in it. There's something refreshing in his optimism even if his optimism seems a little forced like maybe that's his way of dealing with his trauma. You worry Gar pushes it all away so far it'll snap back like a rubberband one day. But Gar does it anyway and he's also very cute and smart and funny. You like the same movies and same tv shows. There are common interests. For you, you like them both for different reasons. So, maybe your best bet is to keep those feelings to yourself. You don't want to ruin anything between the three of you.

You start the water and stick your hands underneath, stinging and burning consuming your hands. You hiss as you try to wash the cuts.

"Need help?" Jason asks from the doorway, watching you struggle to keep your hands under the water.

"Fucking please. This shit hurts and I need two hands." You groan which makes Jason laugh as he walks in.

"Lemme see." Jason holds out his hands for yours.

He looks over the cuts on your hands, now with less blood and better lighting. Bloody and bruised knuckles aren't new to him. He swears there was a point where they were always bruised. He saw purple skin across his hands more than he saw his normal skin tone. Since, being Robin though, the gloves take most of the blows. He doesn't miss it, the ache of bruises and scratching from healing scabs. But, he at least knows how to deal with it.

Jason grabs the antiseptic wipes from the counter that you had already taken out and takes your left hand in his. He doesn't warn you, he just goes right for it and starts cleaning the cuts gently. You hiss, swearing under your breath as the stinging consumes the cut.

"Sorry." Jason offers an apologetic glance as he continues. "They aren't that bad, the cuts." Jason explains.

"Hurt like a bitch though."

"Because you beat the shit out of someone." Jason chuckles. "It happens."

"Mhm." You hum, watching him carefully.

Gentle is not a word you would use to describe Jason Todd. In fact, in the month and a half you’ve been here, you don't think you’ve ever seen him actually be gentle about anything. But, he is now and maybe that's why you’re so infatuated with him sometimes. He's not as two-dimensional as he comes across. There's a lot about him that's just some façade, maybe to push people away so he doesn't get hurt. After what he's been through, you sympathize with that. But, you wish he'd drop the act a little. It's fun, sure, but you want to know more about him and find out what really goes on inside that head of his.

"Tell me something about you." You say, keeping your eyes on your hands as Jason switches to the clean the other one.

"Like what?" He asks, his voice flat.

You shrug. "Dunno, something though. Like, something not a lot of people know about you."

Jason pauses, keeping your hand in his as he looks to you, expecting you to have some type of teasing expression but you don't. Your eyes hold curiosity and a sense of calmness. This isn't normally how you communicate. It's just banter and flirting but you seem genuine now. It makes him shift.

"Why?"

"Because." You shrug again as you look at him. "Curious, I guess. I won't tell anyone." Your eyes widen, this time a bit teasing. "I'll tell you something."

"No." Jason shakes his head, not having the game.

Letting people close? Not his strong suit. To him, there's no reason to tell you. What you're doing is fun. He's having a great time and he doesn't wanna ruin it by getting a little too real with you. The trauma is almost easier to talk about it because you’ve been through it. But talking about the things that make Jason, Jason, the stuff underneath the trauma, that's the hard shit. That's the shit no one can just know. The trauma is public information. It's not that easy to just talk about.

"What're you so afraid of?" You ask, the lack of teasing in your voice is almost making Jason uncomfortable.

"I'm not afraid of anything." Jason snarks, lying to himself.

"Hmm." You hum. "We're all afraid of something, Jay." There's that nickname again. "Just, I dunno, tell me something real about you."

You make it so tempting. It's the way you smile at him where he knows you’re being serious but the very corner of the right side of your mouth twitches into a grin, just slightly. It's a kind of taunt thing you do with him when you’re trying not to and it makes his stomach flip like he's on a rollercoaster. Something in the way your hand lays gently in his and the way you let him in during vulnerable moments, makes him want to tell you.

Jason sighs, going back to cleaning your hand. "If you tell anyone, I'll kick your ass." Jason warns and you smile, crossing your heart with your free hand. "You know the story. Mom's a smack addict, dad's a dumbass who got himself killed, uncle same shit." Jason explains and you nod even though he can't see you. "Foster care, the streets, juvie."

"Lifting cars?" You ask.

"Amongst other shit, yeah." Jason nods, tossing the antiseptic wipe into the trash and grabbing a roll of gauze from beside you. "I found this school when I was on the streets and slept in the rafters of the auditorium." Jason talks and he gains this gentle smile, one of fondness. He shrugs a shoulder. "I'd watch the theater kids at night when they'd have a show." Jason pauses. "Got pretty into it."

Your heart warms with him talking. The thought of Jason Todd being a theater nerd? Amazing, funny, endearing. Explains why he's so dramatic. It's not what you expected in the best way. That's the kind of real shit you want to know about him. No one would have ever guessed that's his thing and you think it's adorable.

"Huh." You hum as Jason finishes wrapping your left hand. "Didn't peg you for a theater kid."

"Yeah, used to think they were the losers." Jason chuckles, taking your other hand in his. "Now, I wear a mask and a cape."

"That's kind of cute, actually."

"Shut up." Jason groans, thinking you’re messing with him.

"No, I'm serious. Honest, it's cute. Jason Todd, a soft spot for theater. I dunno, I think it's cute."

Jason's eyes narrow as he looks up to you, not sure if he should believe you. But you have soft eyes as you look at him. And your smile is so wide he finds it hard not to believe you. Maybe you were a theater kid and that's your big secret.

"What about you?" Jason asks. "I told you mine. You tell me yours."

"Okay, but you can't laugh." You don't fight him. It's only fair. Jason mimics you crossing your heart, a teasing smile on his face as he licks his lips. You roll your eyes. "I love romance movies."

Jason huffs, trying not to chuckle. "Sorry, sorry." Jason snickers. "You don't seem the type. Your extensive knowledge of horror movies and shit."

You shrug one of your shoulders letting out a sigh. "I love horror movies, man." You laugh. "But, I like romance movies. Ya know, where the guy gets the girl and he holds a boom box over his head. Or throws a fist in the air. I guess, The Breakfast Club isn't romance but I count it. Easy A though with all of the tropes, 13 Going On 30 during the photoshoot scene, How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days with Somebody Like You playing in the background." You list some of your favorites. "I also like sad ones, though. I cry every time."

"Yeah?" Jason puts your wrapped hand down, raising his brows at you and instead of stepping away, he keeps the close distance to you. "Why?"

"Dunno." You shrug once more. "I just do. Like I cry every time I watch A Walk To Remember. 'I'm sorry she didn't get her miracle. She did, it was you." You quote the movie. "I ball my eyes out, every single time. Um, the Notebook, of course. Me Before You, I expect him to live every time and every time he dies. The Time Traveler's Wife, PS I Love You when she gets the last letter." You let out a sharp breath. "Shit, I always expect a different ending, but it's all the same and I cry."

Turns out, you're both full of surprises. Jason never would have thought you liked romance films. It's more than your taste for horror, a lot of people like a lot of different genres of movies. It's also because of your attitude. Rom-coms don't seem your thing, you always seemed more of an action or dystopian person to Jason. But, you have a soft side.

"Full of surprises, huh?" Jason chuckles softly.

"Guess so.” There’s a shy smile pulling at your lips and you feel warmer right now with him, than you have in a long time. “What else?" You ask.

"I read." Jason says, finding it easier to talk now. "I'll read pretty much anything. Always liked it but got a bit more into it on the streets. Libraries are free."

"Didn't peg you for a reader, either." Your smile is sweet.

"You a reader?"

You shake your head. "Nah, the act of reading kind of makes me tired." Your eyes widen with annoyance at yourself. "I wish I was, though. My mom used to read me as a kid and that was fine but I try to read and my brain decides I should sleep.” You laugh softly at yourself. You look down, tilting your head to the right. "Alright," You breathe out, looking back to him. "Got any more questions?" You give him a teasing grin, quickly raising your brows at him.

Jason hums and he could ask a million questions. He's liking getting to know you like this but Gar is also his friend. You seem kind of into him, a little at least. As much as he'd like to know what other hobbies keep you entertained or what your favorite memory is, favorite movie, any hidden talents you had, he's thinking maybe he should ask about Gar before this goes anywhere else. Getting to know you more without knowing what your intentions are, freaks him out a little. Why get close if you'll leave? So, he matches the grin and decides to play the game.

"Yeah, actually." Jason lets out a sharp breath, leaning forward. He places a hand on either side of your thighs, resting his hands on the cool countertop, his face just inches from yours. You eye him carefully, your heart banging against your ribs. "What's up with you and Gar?"

You let out a huff, a taunting smirk on your face. "Hmmm." You hum, trying to figure out his angle here. "Why?" You ask, tilting your head to the right.

Jason mimics your action, shrugging slightly. "Can't be curious?"

"You can." You state, trying to ignore the beating of your heart and swirling in your stomach.

"Well?" Jason asks.

You put your hands over his and get just an inch closer to him, playing his game. "Jealous?" You narrow your eyes at him slightly and Jason's heart bounces into his stomach.

The answer is yes. If there's something going on, yes, he's jealous. But, he's not so jealous that it would get in the way of his friendship with Gar or whatever is going on between him and you. That's petty and dumb, Jason has bigger issues than jealousy over a girl. But, there is a tinge of jealousy in his stomach at the thought of you with Gar instead of him. However, he doesn't want to give you that satisfaction. He can tell by the way you asked and the cornered grin you’re giving him, you expect him to say yes. And he won't.

Jason's voice is low, brows raised. "You fucking wish."

You laugh softly, feeling your cheeks burn. Maybe you do want him to be jealous but that sounds like a lot of drama that would be tired and boring. But, you also don't have a witty comeback as much as you want to. No one's ever been able to leave you lost for words but Jason does. He's so quick and smart that it leaves you tongue-tied. He's playing this round-and-round game so long, he's basically an expert. It's fun, though.

Your eyes narrow at him, searching for something to tease him with but you’ve got nothing. You’ve never noticed before but his eyes are really pretty. They're green, not dark green or hazel. They're a muted shade of something like a sea green with a yellow in the center. For a second, you think you could get lost in them like wandering through a forest with no destination or map, just the sun guiding the way. And he has a few dark freckles scattered haphazardly about his face that you want to connect like constellations. He's cute, that was your first impression. Cute. But, taking a second to really look at him, he's kind of beautiful in a tragic kind of way.

"And if I did?" You ask, your brows raising, licking your lips and Jason gives this forced chuckle. The game is being played and neither of you are backing down, so he closes the distance just a bit more, your noses almost touching as Jason eyes your lips.

"Do you?" Jason asks.

His voice has this taunting sense to it, like he's teasing you, about to make fun of you. But there's this hint of curiosity with it and maybe even a want in the tone. Maybe he wants you to wish he were jealous. Maybe that'd make the whole thing easier. You make the move for him.

You rest your forehead against his, Jason's heart about to beat out of his chest and he's never felt this with someone before. He feels dizzy around you, his stomach this bubbly mess. He's excited to see you every single morning. There's this rush that almost, just almost, feels like putting on the Robin suit but different. He gets to be so unapologetically himself with you and that's not something he has ever felt before.

Your nose brushes his and every part of you is ready to dive into him. You feel electrified with him. Nothing about the trauma even matters with him because he's been through it. His mom, his dad, he fucking gets it and you don't have to hide or protect him from it. Jason is this unmovable force that makes your bones ache at the core. You’re trapped in a rain storm but when Jason is around, he's the tunnel you get to drive under. The tunnel that quiets everything around you even when it's still pouring. He makes you feel alive again.

"Maybe." Your voice is a whisper, you’re not ready to commit to closing this. It can't be on you.

The game isn’t so much a game anymore, not right now because you’re too close for that now. You’re trapped with bated breath between you, waiting for the other to finally commit to it. You want him to commit to it so badly you can hardly even breathe. There’s just something about Jason to you that you can’t explain. And, Jason, he wants you.

His lips brush yours and there's hesitance it in. If he kisses you, the game ends. Something will come of this. It might be good and it might be bad. But something will have to come of it. You'll have some sort of discussion about it and he wants you so bad but he wants you to want him, too. So, his lips brush yours and he’s just about to ready to say fuck it and close the distance. And maybe you’ll kiss him back.

"What the fuck?" An exasperated voice pulls yours and Jason's attention towards the door where Dick is standing with his hands on his hips looking absolutely exhausted and pissed and fed the fuck up.

You jerk away, pulling your hands into your lap while Jason quickly moves away from you, his cheeks turning a cherry red. Both of your lips are burning, as if you'd just committed to something that never even happened. It feels like you were hiding some dirty little secret when Dick walked in. You weren't doing anything different than what you normally do but it still felt different. A bit more vulnerable, a bit more hesitant. It felt different and Dick interrupted it. Neither of you even know if the other would go through with it. You hope the other would though.

"Seriously? You nearly kill someone and then you..." Dick gestures at the two of you, trying to figure out what he walked in on. This is not where he saw this going. "Are doing whatever you're doing in here."

"W-we weren't doing anything." You glance between Dick and Jason. It's not a lie even if it feels like one.

Dick shakes his head. No one prepared him to handle this. No one prepared him to handle people who apparently try to kill someone and then have a deep moment later. What is he supposed to do with that? First training behind his back and now this. The two common denominators in this have been you and Jason. In his eyes, Jason must be the bad influence because you’re traumatized and Jason is probably encouraging the bad behavior. He can't let you two just do whatever you want when you want. Someone's going to get killed and he's thinking the two of you together would be the cause.

"This," Dick waves an open hand between the two of you. "Whatever that is, no." Dick says and Jason and you look at him with confusion. Jason shifts his weight to his right foot, putting a hand on his hip while you shake your head as if to be processing what's going on. "You two, no."

"Picking my friends now, huh?" Jason scoffs, annoyance raging from his bones.

"Looked a bit more than that, didn't it?" Dick fires back.

"Well, this is awkward." You huff, more to yourself. "We're friends, Dick." You groan. "I know, hard for you to grasp giving your history, but guys and girls can be friends." Dick's mouth moves as he's trying to figure out what you mean. "Oh, Rachel told me that you hooked up with two of your friends and it seems you still have a thing for both of them. But, one left and the other is dating some other guy who was also your friend and a Titan." You explain, keeping your voice nonchalant and Jason nearly bursts into a fit of laughter watching Dick's face turn red.

"Okay, no, that's not--" Dick shakes his head cutting himself off. "This isn't about me."

"It could be. We could work through your parental problems and really get to the root of the problem because you might have commitment issues. That's what it sounds like." You explain while nodding your head, Jason snickering to the side not able to control himself. Dick's gonna kill you.

"We're not talking about me." Dick groans, growing more annoyed. He has got to do a better job at keeping his private life, private. "Stop deflecting."

"She's very good at it." Jason adds in.

"I think that's all our strong suits, to be fair. Notice that he turned it back to me. Deflecting." You say to Jason.

"No, we're not doing this. I'm not playing your game." Dick sighs. He wants nothing more than to go to bed. He didn't think he signed up to actually parent the new Titans. He almost feels bad for what he put Bruce through. "You're both in deep shit." Dick's voice goes stern again and you accept you can't get out of this one as much as you tried. "I expect more from you." Dick turns his anger onto Jason.

Jason's jaw nearly drops as his eyes widen. How the hell is Dick blaming him? "What?" Jason nearly yells, the word coming out as a scoff.

"You didn't do anything to stop her, did you? You could have come to get me but you didn't." Dick points full blame on Jason and you’re sitting there almost certain this is a weirdly vivid dream. He can't be serious. "You're the oldest, you know better."

"Are you fucking serious?" Jason huffs. "I made sure she didn't kill the fuckface." Jason tries to defend himself.

"You should have come to get me." Dick insists.

"Right," You start, your voice slow as you keep glancing between the two of them. "You're blaming Jason?" You almost laugh at how stupid that it is.

"Let me guess, you take full responsibility because it was your idea and you manipulated him, right?" Dick throws your previous discussion back in your face. "You wanna be Robin again?" Dick turns his attention back to Jason. "Stop fucking up."

You watch the look on Jason's face. His face drops, for just a split second before turning into pure rage. You understand that Dick should be mad at you both, absolutely. You did something stupid and dangerous. But, throwing Robin at Jason's face doesn't sit right with you. You don't know the story but it's pretty obvious being Robin is something that means a lot to Jason. You don't throw something like that in someone's face, not like that.

Jason walks up to Dick, standing toe-to-toe with him. "You don't fucking decide if I'm Robin or not. I'm the new Robin." Jason says pointing to himself, not looking all that intimidating having to physically look up to Dick. "You're just a washed-up version of a hero."

"Stand down." Dick keeps his voice level with Jason, not giving in to him.

"Jason tried to stop me." You speak up from your spot on the counter, not wanting to see where this fight is about to go. Jason will not stand down and you don't think Dick will either. If you didn't know any better, you would think they were actually brothers.

Jason turns quickly to look back at you. He's surprised. He did not try to stop you. He basically encouraged you to go. He drove you there and didn't step in until it started to look bad enough. Jason knows the odds of Dick kicking him from the Titans are low because of Bruce but you? You’re still new and if you cause more trouble than you’re worth, Jason thinks he might. Deep down, he knows Dick wouldn't but somewhere in his head, he's afraid Dick would and you take the blame anyway.

"He was getting a snack from the kitchen when I was trying to sneak out." You lie. "He-he, uh, he figured out what I was gonna do. He tried to stop me, convince me to go back to bed or he'd come get you. I promised him I wouldn't do anything."

You said you'd never rat Jason or Gar out which makes Dick find it hard to believe that happened. He does also know Jason and Jason isn't one to step away from a fight. Jason talking you out of it seems incredibly unlikely but Dick can't prove it at this point in time.

"Why'd he drive you then?" Dick challenges trying to find a hole in your story.

"I told him I'd be gone before he could get you. I was going regardless. So, instead of me getting into a strange car at two in the morning, he said he'd drive me as long as I didn't do anything. He only wore the Robin suit as a safety measure." You lie through your teeth.

You haven't always been a good liar but it was something you needed to be better at. You have tells like everyone else, the way you kick your foot out every few seconds, the lack of hand movements. But, Dick doesn't know you well enough to know your tells so you lie with the first thing that comes to your mind and by the look at Dick's face as he looks back to Jason, you’re thinking he believes you.

Dick sighs. "Just," Dick starts, his attention on Jason as Jason looks back to him. "Come get me, okay? I have to be able to trust you."

"Right." Jason scoffs.

"Go to bed, I'm gonna talk to Y/n."

Jason looks over his shoulder and you give him a soft smile with a nod. Jason sighs, not wanting to leave you alone with Dick but it's probably for the best before he punches the guy. "Good luck." Jason scoffs, pushing past Dick and leaving the bathroom.

Dick walks further inside, leaning his hip against the counter while you’re looking at your hands in your lap. Your head is hung as if you’re waiting for the 'I can't trust you, you have to leave' speech you know is coming. You wonder why you do that. Taking the risk of homelessness when you know it's a possibility. It's not like you do it on purpose but you get mad and frustrated, nothing else really matters at that point. The only thing that does is not being mad anymore. It clouds everything else in your brain. A booming kickdrum drowning out every better decision you’ve ever had.

"Is that actually what happened?" Dick asks, his arms crossed.

"Yep." You answer, not looking to him.

"What were you thinking?" His voice is disappointed this time, completely different than the anger he had towards Jason and it doesn't sit right with you but that's not the argument you want to have right now.

"Guess I wasn't." You mutter. "Kicking me out?" You peek an eye at him, your words hesitant.

Dick shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. "No." He shakes his head. "Wanna tell me what the hell happened though?"

You shrug. "He was on the news." You say, your voice small and quiet. "They were congratulating him for being an upstanding citizen, an everyday hero, because he saved a fucking kid from getting hit by a train."

Dick nods once, understanding how you ended up at his house. "So, you decided to go after him?"

"I mean...yeah." You looks up to him. "It's just not fair, ya know? I'm..." You pause, trying to find the right words as the fire dies out from your blood. "I'm scarred, physically and mentally from him. He did all that shit to me. I'm a freak now because of him. He ripped me from my home. I talk shit about Gotham but it's my fucking home and he ripped me from it." You shake your head as you look back to your hands, picking at the bandages Jason applied. "He gets to be called a hero and I get stuck with more trauma."

Dick's anger for the night fades as he listens to you, for the first time, really listening to you. You’re not snarky or fighting with him. This seems like the most honest you’ve been with him since he found you. He sees a part of himself in you. Angry and bitter and resentful of the life you're dealt. You were both just kids when your lives got ripped out from under you. No kid deserves that. It makes him sad, that's the one thing everyone in this tower has in common. Childhoods ruined by adults who are too selfish and cruel to think about their well-being. Or even care about their well-being.

"He thought I was dead." You scoff, feeling the burning of the back of your eyes start. "He actually said that tonight. He dumped me for dead. Just...like that. Like I was trash. I'm not..." You pause, your chin wrinkling slightly. "I'm not even upset that he didn't give a fuck, ya know? Because fuck him but...I am upset that a human can do that to another human. He tried to kill me." Your voice breaks.

Up until tonight, a part of you thought it really was an accident. Jerry just thought he went too far, he didn't mean to do it. But, tonight, the look on his face, he wanted you dead. You were too much maybe. Too big of a hassle because you put up a fight even with words. You'll never know his why and maybe that's for the best but the thing is that he did try to kill you. That's something that you have to sort through and live with. Beating someone to death is a personal thing, there's a burning hatred there and while you can't rationalize it, it's like you’re trying to anyway.

You’re putting blame on yourself even when it doesn't make sense because you’re the victim. From the time you were put into Jerry's care until the day he dumped you in that alley, you were the victim. But, you can't stop your mind from blaming yourself. What about you is so un-fucking-bearable that someone would hate you so much they'd try to kill you? He's evil, he doesn't need a reason and it's not your fault, but that doesn't stop the thoughts. And you thought you'd be okay joking with Jason, maybe that would quiet everything for the night but now you’re talking to Dick and you can't joke with him like that. And now it's haunting the marrow in your bones, aching and dragging.

"I'm not mad, okay?" Dick assures you. "Disappointed but I understand. That's a horrible thing you went through. I get that, I do." Dick starts. "But, you can't go off on your own like that. I know you had Jason but anything could have happened. You were in his house. You almost killed him." Dick keeps his voice steady and lacking of anger. "It sucks. I went to get revenge for my parents being killed and I regret it every day." Dick opens up a little making you look at him with a raised brow.

"Why?"

"I didn't kill him but because I went after him, he was killed by someone else." Dick explains. "He killed my parents but it wasn't my job to kill him or get him killed as mad as I was or as unfair as it is. That's just not our job."

"I didn't wanna kill him." You suck in a breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. "Just beat him up, rub it in a bit that I was alive and kicking. Show him he didn't win."

"I think you accomplished that." Dick raises his brows quickly.

"Yeah," You sigh. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for losing it and dragging Jason into it."

Dick shakes his head. "Just don't let it happen again." Dick pauses. "You don't have to take the fall for him."

You roll your eyes. "I'm not."

Dick nods, not fully buying it. "Okay, well, extra chores for a month then."

"That it?" You ask.

"Yeah, don't do this again." Dick pushes himself off the counter.

"Aye-aye, captain." You solute him haphazardly.

Dick sighs with the response. "Just get to bed." Dick says before leaving the bathroom.

You let out a breath, taking a second to be. There's a lot to unpack tonight. You look at your hands and a part of you wants to grieve for the person you’ve become. Three years ago, you'd never hit anyone. You'd have someone threaten to hit you and you knew you'd never do anything about it. Fighting never seemed like the best solution. It always seemed so pointless but now you’re here with bloody knuckles, fueled by anger. You get it now but you don't know if you like the feeling.

But, you’re so sad and angry, like weights tied around your ankles. You’re gnawing and clawing at them but they never budge. They just get stronger the more you struggle. Every day you live and Jerry gets to exist in happy contentment, it's another pound added. Every day you live and the Joker gets to keep on jokering, it adds weight to your shoulders. The anger and sadness cloud your every move. Grief is agonizing and numbing and all-consuming. And when you think you have something to make it better, it's temporary. Training, movies with Gar, video games, music, teasing Jason, beating up Jerry. It's all temporary relief. The second you’re alone with your thoughts, it creeps back in, a tsunami receding the tides again.

And you wonder if you'll ever hit the acceptance stage of grief or if you'll just be trapped here alone for the rest of your life. So, you clean up the bathroom and look for a distraction because the guilt and grief feel too much.

Your fist knocks on the dark door softly and you wait a few seconds. This is a bad idea and you know it. But you don't want to be alone and you don't want to think about anything. Thinking is becoming a chore and you feel haunted. Tied down and struggling. Beating up Jerry did nothing but make you feel worse which then, somehow, makes you feel even worse. It should have helped, it should have because he got what he deserved but it just makes you feel like the bad guy in all of it. You saved someone tonight but all you see is Jerry covered in his own blood, thinking that's what you must have looked like. And a part of you thinks maybe you aren't any better than he is because you did to him what he did to you. It is different and you know that but it’s late and you can’t be alone with those thoughts.

"Hey." Jason greats you, surprised to you.

He thought for sure you would listen to Dick and stay away from him. He's not entirely sure if he was serious about it but it wouldn't shock him. Jason is bad news, dragging everyone he cares about down with him.

"Can I come in?" You ask as if you’re on a mission.

"Sure." Jason opens the door further for you and you walk in. Jason closes the door behind you, leaning against it, waiting for you to say something.

Something's off. No smirk, grin, or smile. No teasing comment. No remark about the half-empty bottles of Gatorade and Red Bull scattered about his room. You were, relatively fine and normal when he left besides being pissed at Dick. For a second, fear strikes him and he wonders if Dick gave up on you already. Jason knows that can't be it, Dick sucks sometimes but he's not that fucking horrible. But, that's also the only thing coming to mind.

You turn to face him, your expression almost flat and Jason watches you as you walk up to him. You stand just a few inches from him without saying anything. Normally, Jason would find this as a challenge, play the game again and see what happens in the safety of his room. But, not now. Not with the flat expression and distant look in your eyes. Not like this.

And you think about it. Think about kissing him and using him as a distraction, that was the plan coming here instead of waking up Gar. Gar would have too many questions and he'd have this way of getting you to spill your guts to him. You’re too tired for that. It's too much thinking, too much emotion. But you’ve got your eyes locked on Jason's and you want to kiss him because it'll be such a good distraction and it'll make you feel something incredible. It'll make you feel wanted and important, you won't feel so damaged anymore even if it's just a few minutes.

But that's not fair to him either.

You shake your head. "Sorry." You take a step back, swallowing thickly.

"It's okay." Jason says, still watching you carefully, concern starting to creep onto his face. "What's up?"

"I don't wanna think about it anymore." You answer candidly.

Jason nods and he has an idea. If it were anyone else, he’d go for it because kissing someone and letting it go wherever it decides to go, is a fun little distraction. But, this is you. And he swears if something is meant to happen, it won’t be because either of you want to be distracted. So, he walks over to a dresser near the window and looks inside. You watch him, questioning what he could possibly be doing. You aren't sure what you expected him to do but say something would be high up on that list. Instead, he's just looking into a drawer so you make the walk toward him.

"What're you doing?" You ask from behind him.

"Pick one." He says, gesturing a hand inside the drawer. You walk up beside him and see several books. You raise a brow at him. "Just do it." Jason sighs.

You shrug and go along with it. You look over the spines, studying them and it's kind of interesting, seeing what books he likes. There's dystopian young adult, horror, adventure, a few classics. It's like a little window into his world and there’s something sweet and soft about it. But, you spot one that you’ve actually seen the movie for so you pick that one.

Jason laughs as you pick the book with the pale yellow spine. "You've seen the movie?"

"Yeah, of course." You answer with a laugh. "Of course, I've seen it. Is the book good?"

"You tell me." Jason takes the book from you and walks past you, going towards his bed.

You spin on your heels, the confusion and curiosity engraving itself across your face. "What?"

"When shit gets too fucking loud, I read." Jason explains, sitting on his bed while you walk over to the end of the bed slowly. Things get loud for him and escaping into a book helps. It quiets the noise. "Or I train but you don't seem like you want to do that right now."

"That would be a correct assumption." You state. "But, I just said I don't read." Your eyes are narrowed still waiting for Jason to explain what's going on.

Jason stretches his legs out before opening the book and flipping to chapter one. He clears his throat. "When Mr. Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventy-first birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton." Jason reads the first line and your face softens and your heart stops in your chest, realizing what he's doing.

Not to be dramatic, but a part of you almost cries while he reads. This is probably one of the nicest and most thoughtful things someone has ever done. Reading is draining to you but his way to deal with shit. This is his world that he's inviting you into in order to distract you. Jason Todd is not nearly as calloused as he comes across and it's so warming and jarring that you are, yet again, at a loss for words. And you adore him so fucking much, you swear he makes all of your broken parts seem not so broken.

"You gonna just stand there or you gonna sit?" Jason asks as he finishes the first paragraph. He feels exposed again but for you, it's worth it. It'll always be worth it for you.

"Okay." You smile at him, crawling onto his bed and sitting beside him.

He gives you this look of contentment, of ease. His eyes are soft, not sad or pained like they normally are. He looks comfortable, here with you and a book in his hand. You want to cry so bad because something about him seems so perfect. He's perfect but in the way that something by Monet is or the way a glass vase is. He's perfect with every cracked, messy, and damaged parts of him because they make him...him.

You think maybe perfect isn't the right word for him because he has flaws, you both have flaws. To be perfect is to be flawless and Jason Todd is anything but flawless but to you, with gentle and adoring eyes, he seems perfect. Maybe to be perfect, as a person, is not to be flawless but to be flawed and still be unapologetically yourself. Maybe that's what is it. To be perfect, as a person, maybe it's because of the things you do and who you are rather than what's happened to you. Maybe being a perfect human is just being able to show softness even when all you have ever known is a life of tragedy and heartache. And to you, Jason Todd is perfectly flawed just like you.

You scoot closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. The action surprises Jason a little but he falls comfortable with you against him. Jason thinks you’re everything he could have ever asked for. He doesn't care about the violence or the rage that courses through your bones. He doesn't care that you have some issue with Batman over the Joker. It doesn't matter to him because you see him for who he is. He is not Jason Todd, the arrogant asshole. To you, he's just Jason Todd. Jay. And Jason thinks that's what makes you perfect. That you understand him and you care for him even when he's drowning in a war against himself. Jason Todd thinks you’re perfect and he doesn't think anyone is perfect.

Jason looks to you and smirks because he can't help himself. "Unless you wanted to do something else." His brows wiggle as he teases you.

"Shut the fuck and read the fucking book, Jay." You roll your eyes, sinking into him and looking over to read along with him.

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