#Zsaszmask

[blacktallymaskat]

I can't believe it's been five years already since this sweetest obsession with what has become my ultimate OTP-the one OTP-the OTP to rule them all, began... i only can be eternally grateful for BoP's existence, cuz without that movie maybe there wouldn't have existed that perfect casting for the genius actors who agreed and were so willing to play the psycho-evil-sassy-precious-soulmates villain husbands i love to the deeps of my soul 💚🖤 thank you so much for five years of endless happiness 🥳🎉💖... let's go for zillions more 🖤💚

Four years... FOUR YEARS!!!

Four years of BoP already 🎉🥳😭💖💖💖💚🖤💖💖💖😭🥳🎉

The origin of my infinite joy and happiness, of my dearest and sweetest [endless] obsession with my #1 OTP, since four years ago #RegretNothing

I 💖 everything about the movie, but THEY are my absolute heart and reason to live 😭🖤💚

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings: gunz

a/n: yall idk how to play poker

requested by anonymous

You and your fathers cackled after you slammed your hand of cards on the table and scooped the bets piled in the center toward you. The gang of villains shouted curses, threats, and obscenities as you mocked, doing anything you could to get under their skin. “Your kid’s a cheater! This isn’t over!” The Joker addressed Roman alone and you chuckled without hesitation.

“Looks pretty over to me.” You shoveled your winnings—money and jewels, among other things—into your bag until the Joker pulled a gun on you.

“Hand it over, kid.” He threatened, ignoring the guns now pointed at him. You felt a hand on your shoulder—Victor’s—and he gently spoke to you.

“What do we do in this situation, y/n?” Your father asked. You smiled just as wide as the Joker and slowly moved to dump the bag on the table, revealing a gun you had stored prematurely. A swift movement and the Joker now had a gun pointed right back at him. The other Rogues and crime bosses watched intently, waiting for a trigger to be pulled. Joker dropped his arm and laughed deeply.

“Ah, but isn’t cheating just another form of winning?” Joker nodded and holstered his weapon in the waistband of his pants. “Great game, Junior. Can’t wait for the next one.” You and your fathers watched as he left and exchanged amused glances.

“Great job, sweetheart.” Roman patted your back. “I think it’s time we head home.”

taglist: @locke-writes // @captainshazamerica // @summersimmerus // @deanzboyfriend // @zoeyserpentluck // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[streets-and-sodium-lights]

your love is a murder

Roman Sionis/Victor Zsasz (Birds of Prey), Rated M, fluff, but it's them so it's unhealthy af. more or less a missing scene from the movie after Roman talks with Mr. Keo.

beta'd by @jowoanofheart

~~~

“Mr. Zsasz,” Roman said, his voice a drunken drawl over the noise of the Black Mask Club. It was almost three in the morning, and Roman had been indulging in his club more than usual tonight. As Victor walked over, Roman grasped at his collar roughly, like he was trying to pull Victor to the ground. “Mr. Zsasz, would you get me a drink?” he asked sweetly. “A martini, the way I like them?” His head lolled to one side as he spoke. He was absolutely wasted.

Victor put a hand on Roman’s shoulder to steady him. “Sure, Boss,” he replied as Roman leaned into the touch. God, he was an affectionate drunk. Victor slowly pulled his hand away and Roman tried to reach out for it, trying to follow it back to his lover. No one was supposed to know, according to Roman, but when he was drunk, it was more than clear what they were to one another. The other people at Roman’s table- a group of three twenty-something girls and a smug-looking man- all diverted their gazes, knowing that this moment was something they weren’t supposed to see.

Victor pulled his hand away and walked across the club to the bar without so much as looking back, but he knew Roman’s eyes were on him. Victor knew damn well that if that fool had another martini, he’d black out, and Roman hated to be seen as weak.

“One vodka martini, dirty, two olives, no lemon twist,” he said to the bartender; some new guy who was under-experienced but pretty enough that Roman hired him anyway. Roman liked pretty things. Often, Victor wondered why in the world Roman kept him; scarred, aging, and jaded, when he had all of them.

He returned to the table with Roman’s favorite drink. It was said that putting two olives in a martini was an omen of bad luck, but that hadn’t served Roman poorly yet. “Here,” he said, holding out the drink. Roman looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes. He had his arm around one of the women at the table, a beautiful blonde with small, high breasts and a sheer blue dress. When she saw Victor, her smile disappeared and she leaned away from Roman.

“What was that for?” Roman asked, and although his tone was still calm, Victor could feel the man’s anger rising to the surface. 

Victor swallowed tensely. He hated watching Roman when he acted like this, so he did something he didn’t usually do when Roman was this drunk- he brought out the marionette strings. “Seems like she’s scared of you, Boss.”

Roman quickly turned his attention to Victor. “Scared of me?” He grinned and turned back to the blonde, who had now fully recoiled away from him and moved towards another woman at the table, probably a friend who she’d started the night with, entirely unaware of who owned the club she was headed to. “You should be,” Roman said. “All of you should be!” He was yelling now, making a scene. “Do you know who I am? I don’t need cowardly filth like you in my club!” He got up from the booth and stood beside Victor, one arm around him and the other pointing towards the door. “Go! GO!”

The four civilians took little time to disperse before Roman reached for the martini Victor had brought him. Victor knocked over the glass before Roman could reach it, spilling its contents onto the rich, dark wood of the table. 

“What’d you do that for?” Roman asked as if he was personally offended by the act. “You’re dead drunk, Boss,” Victor said. He shifted the weight of Roman’s arm on his shoulders, allowing him to lean on Victor. Sure enough, he did.

“Are you saying I can’t handle my liquor, Mr. Zsasz?” Roman asked with a small, weak hiccup.

“Of course not, Boss,” Victor said quietly. “That was upsetting… how those four betrayed you. Let’s go upstairs, finish this night well.”

Roman considered Victor’s words before he finally nodded. “Right. Good thinking, Mr. Zsasz.”

Victor nodded and adjusted Roman’s arms so that he was leaning most of his weight on Victor as they walked. The club would be fine. They’d left it unattended enough nights now that the workers knew how to manage without Roman’s watchful eyes, not that he had to know that.

Roman more or less stumbled upstairs to the apartment, where Victor led him to the bathroom and sat him on the floor in front of the toilet. It was only a matter of time before Roman’s body realized that it needed to purge itself of the mix of expensive spirits he’d downed. 

“I don’t want to throw up,” Roman said, suddenly distraught. “It’s so gross. I hate gross things, Victor.” There it was, his first name. Roman was his again, not some random blonde’s. A sickly happiness bloomed in Victor’s chest.

“I know,” he said with a sigh. He sat down on the floor with Roman, his back against the cabinet under the marble sink so he could watch him. “What did you have tonight? Just alcohol?”

Roman shrugged cluelessly. 

“It was that Keo jackass, wasn’t it?” Victor took out his folding knife and popped it open and closed, open and closed. “We’ll kill him, slow and painful. We’ll peel his face off.”

Roman looked at him with adoring eyes. “Victor,” he said, the name leaving his lips like a dead man’s last breath. Then he looked back at the toilet and Victor got up to hold the crime lord’s hair back as he threw up. 

“So fucking gross,” Roman choked out. “Fuck.” Then he retched uselessly for a while before he threw up again.

Victor leaned his head against Roman’s back. “Done?” he asked him.

“God, let’s hope so,” Roman groaned. 

Victor nodded and picked Roman up from under his arms like a cat and guided him into the shower, where he got to work on undressing him, starting with his monogrammed gloves. “Feel better?” Victor asked, making quick work of the buttons on the man’s velvet blazer. 

“Not by much,” Roman replied. When Victor’s hands drifted to try and take off Roman’s tank top, he brushed them off and did it himself. He started to bend over to take off his shoes, but stopped himself suddenly. Evidently, he was still nauseous. 

“Don’t,” Victor said as he knelt down to untie his partner’s shoes. He removed them easily, then stripped Roman of the rest of his clothes. Another time, all this would lead to a very different night, but at the moment, he was just here to take care of his drunk partner. “Cold or hot?” Victor asked as he reached for the handle of the shower’s temperature valve. 

Roman reached for Victor’s hand and kissed it. “Hot. Will you join me?”

Victor sighed. Roman was drunk enough that he didn’t care that his designer velvet blazer was on the bathroom floor in a pile. “Come on. You’re wasted.” 

“I just want to be with you,” Roman said, his rarely-seen romantic side emerging once again. “Please, Victor?”

He nodded and stepped out of the shower to pile his clothes next to Roman’s. He said nothing as he got in beside Roman and turned the water on. Everything about Roman was at least slightly sexual, and he usually didn’t mind one bit, but tonight he just stood behind him and helped him clean himself off. There wasn’t much to clean. In Roman’s eyes, though, he was sure they both seemed grimy. Once Roman figured out that Victor was helping him wash off, he gave up trying to do it on his own and stood there, lifeless, and watched as Victor scrubbed at his arms, his hair, his back until he was clean. Even now, he was Roman’s right hand, doing all of the things Roman lost patience for.

Roman traced one of Victor’s newer scars. “Who was this?” he whispered.

“That idiot acid dealer you had me kill last month, the one who was broking deals in your club without your permission.” “It’s brokering,” Roman corrected crossly. “I don’t remember him.” 

Victor slicked Roman’s wet hair back to get it out of his face. “You don’t need to, Boss, that’s my job.” 

Roman leaned his head on Victor’s scarred chest and wrapped his arms around him. Victor was done bathing them both. At this point, they were just standing under the warm water. “What would I do without you?” he asked. 

“You would be the crime lord who owns the finest club in the city, just as you are now,” Victor said, although he knew that probably wouldn’t be the case.

Roman said the truth for them both: “I’d be in Arkham.” Victor was the only one who could calm him down, the only one who could reach him during an episode. They both knew that Roman had little power or sense of self on his own, despite his claims that he owned Zsasz like he was an object. No, Victor was there by choice, but no one outside these walls had to know that.

Victor turned off the water, and Roman crowded even closer to him, shivering in the sudden cold. “Let’s get you to bed,” Victor said. 

It was raining outside the tall glass windows of the apartment, Victor realized as he walked out to get Roman’s robe, buck naked because he couldn’t care less these days. He found Roman’s robe and walked back to the bathroom.

“Someone could see you, you know,” Roman said as he walked back in. He was definitely still drunk, but now he was content and clean, and that had sobered him slightly.

“So what?” Victor replied. “Get dressed, brush your teeth, and I’ll find you something to eat.” As he walked to the kitchen, he spotted a group of young blonde women laughing, stumbling down the street. He tried not to think about that blonde in the sheer dress, but she came to the forefront of his mind all too easily. Roman needed him. Roman should want him, too.

“Thank you, Victor,” Roman said as Victor walked into the bedroom- their bedroom, really, as the one that used to be Victor’s was rarely used these days. Victor set down a tray of charcuterie the chef had prepared earlier that day. “Wine?” Roman suggested.

“Water,” Victor replied, handing him a glass of ice-cold water with a thin slice of lemon in it. He sat down on the bed next to Roman as the man began to pick at his food. “How’s your memory of tonight?” Victor asked.

“Vague, but not absent,” he answered, gesturing to the tray. “You can have some too.”

Victor shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“No, you’re upset,” Roman replied. “What about, I don’t know. You’re insufferable sometimes.” He plucked a grape off of the tray and fed it to Victor with a careful hand. Victor crunched it obediently, despite his annoyance.

Roman sighed. His hand drifted to Victor’s upper thigh, but Victor shook his head negatively and pushed it away.

“Pity,” Roman replied. “What is it that’s on your mind?” He reached over and brought Victor’s face close to his own and looked him in the eyes before he kissed him. “Hm?” he prodded. He ran his hand down Victor’s chest, but Victor moved it before he got too far.

“The blonde,” Victor said, his face still inches from Roman’s. “The one in the blue dress, the one you were flirting with.”

“I was flirting with a blonde?” Roman asked. “I don’t remember her. All I remember is you walking me upstairs, taking off my blazer, your hands in my hair in the shower,” he murmured, kissing Victor again. “You should kill her tomorrow,” he suggested. “Make it agonizing. Show her the cost of flirting with the Black Mask tonight.” He ran a finger down a scar, old enough to fade, but young enough to be a kill he made at Roman’s command. Years of death, all for him. “Mark your territory, Mr. Zsasz.”

So Victor kissed Roman again and crawled on top of him possessively, pinning Roman’s arms to the sheets. The man looked entirely unthreatened. “What happened to ‘no sex, I’m upset?’” Roman asked, but he was smiling. Victor kicked the tray of fruit and cheeses across the bed and onto the floor, prompting Roman to grin even wider and lean in for another kiss, violent and fast. Roman should’ve cared about the mess, but he was distracted. “Go on,” Roman encouraged. He wrenched his arm out from under Victor’s to trace the edge of his jaw. “I enjoy pretty things, you know that.”

He kissed Roman again as he worked on the loose knot that held his robe closed.

~~~

The next morning, Victor woke to find Roman tangled up in blankets, sleeping with his head on Victor’s shoulder. God, what the world would think if they could see Roman Sionis now, asleep on his subordinate’s shoulder. Victor ran his hand through Roman’s matted hair. He’d be mad about that when he woke up, but for now, he was nothing more than a sleeping lover, with no sign of the Black Mask’s aggression or mania. Victor couldn’t decide which version of Roman he preferred. After some time, the spell broke, and his eyes fluttered open.

“Good morning,” Victor greeted him. “How do you feel?”

“Hungover,” Roman responded, his voice rough from sleep. As he ran his hand through his hair, he paused, shocked. “Shit, I slept on it wet.”

“It was probably more than just you sleeping on it wet,” Victor said.

Roman exhaled frustratedly. “This is unacceptable. I have things to do today. Where’s my robe?”

Victor picked up the red robe off the floor on his side of the bed and tossed it at Roman. “Here. You should go get ready.”

Roman nodded. “I should. And I should fix this fucking headache.”

“You should let me make you a little hangover cure,” Victor suggested. When he was fully sober, Roman was always more receptive to orders when they were phrased as suggestions.

“Yes, do that,” Roman agreed. “I’ll be right back.” Actually, he would be about an hour, maybe more if he decided to put on eyeliner, because he was particular about that. Appropriately, Victor allowed himself a few more minutes in bed while Roman showered yet again and preened his feathers. Victor’s timing was perfect. Just as Roman emerged from the bathroom, he handed him a weak cocktail that would ward off his hangover a bit longer. “You look good, Boss,” he said as he handed it to him.

“I do, don’t I?” Roman agreed. He ran his fingertips across Victor’s short bleached hair and pinched the collar of the bowling shirt he was wearing. “Change your shirt and throw this one away while you’re at it,” he ordered. “This puce color makes you look absolutely pallid.”

Victor nodded and left to pick something he knew Roman would like before he returned, dropping the sickly pink shirt in the kitchen trash on his way back into the living area.

“Well, well, well,” Roman mused as he leaned on the windowsill, his robe slipping down his arm. “Could that be our little Miss Lance? All these years I thought she was just a pretty face and a fine set of lungs.” Roman sighed, calm and happy as if he’d been drugged. For a split second, Victor started to feel jealous, but then Roman turned around to look at him, and all the jealousy left Victor’s body, only an obsessive, all-consuming attraction left. “Oh, Mr. Zsasz,” he breathed, wrapping an arm around Victor affectionately, “I’ve had an amazing idea.”

[hell-vill]

My old art with my favorite boys 🫂🩷

[drasin]

Let everyone stare, they don't care.

[batterbutter]

[misterzsasz]

probably my most turbocringe edit yet

[littleoddwriter]

Hello my amazing and wonderful friend

I have missed your writing so dearly so I'm gonna take advantage of your asks being open right now and request a short college AU fic for Zsaszmask. It can be established relationship with just a look into their life or a first meeting. Write whatever is easiest for you, I will just be happy to read the words you wrote.

Kajahqhqh I'm so bad at sending requests so I hope this makes sense.

Wanna Hate You | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hello there, my dearest friend! <3 Aw, thank you so much!!! And no worries, you made complete sense, heh. I hope you like what I did with it, thanks for the request, dhjfkhsjk! <3 summary; Victor wants to hate Roman, but finds himself fascinated by the young man. notes; College AU; First Meeting; Mentions of Violence.

Boisterous fake laughter echoed through the hall and into Victor’s dorm room. 

He wanted to hate the guy the loudest laugh belonged to. He tried very hard to hate him. After all, that guy was beyond obnoxious. Victor had every reason to resent him, really.

But something about him just caught his attention. He knew exactly what it was, but that didn’t make it any less confusing to him. 

Roman Sionis. The heir of the Sionis’ legacy and Janus Corp. A spoiled brat that had people gravitate toward him for the simple fact of who his parents were and that he had money. Lots of it. It was all incredibly fake, but Roman entertained them all. He thrived on the attention he got, fake or not. He loved to boss them around, to feel like a God, as they practically kissed the ground he walked on. 

Yet there was something lurking beneath the surface. Roman was like a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at every minor inconvenience or grievance that came his way. Victor was fascinated by that. 

No matter how hard Sionis tried to play the perfect boy with Daddy’s money, making connections at Gotham Academy, he always failed to maintain it completely. 

There was an incident at least once a week, where Roman just lost it and punched somebody in the face, humiliated somebody, harassed those around him, yelled them into submission and fear, or even pulled a knife on them. The list went on. 

At least once a week, Roman snapped. And every time, his parents cleaned up his mess with bribery to keep Roman in college and to keep all those incidents off the records. Every victim was paid off, sometimes never to be seen again. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, Victor looked forward to those incidents every day. They were what made college more interesting, what made Roman so fascinating and captivating. They were the only reason Victor couldn’t get himself to hate the guy. 

In fact, Victor often found himself thinking about how he could bring Roman’s next outburst along faster without making himself take the brunt of it. He liked to watch. To see that fire in Roman’s eyes as the mask started to crack and slip and his true self reared its ugly head. 

Part of him felt like it was unfair, though, that he knew so much about Roman and was fascinated by him, only for the other to not even know he existed. 

Victor was pretty good at fading into the background. Usually, that was exactly what he wanted. He didn’t like attention; especially all that fake crap these college kids at Gotham Academy were so very good at. But he started to crave attention from Roman. He wanted and needed it. And it really bothered him that Roman had no idea. 

Victor has been racking his brain, trying to find a good way to introduce himself to Roman, get his attention and keep it. 

As it turned out, Victor fantasised about all the different ways he could go about it for nothing.

___

After a full day of classes, which he all hated and he failed to remember why he went to college in the first place, Victor returned to his dorm room. He didn’t have a roommate, luckily. So, of course he was very surprised to find somebody in his room on that evening.

How Roman got inside was beyond Victor. Maybe he underestimated him. Maybe Roman was really good at picking locks.

He stared at Roman, trying to decide on what to say and how. He couldn’t mess up his chance of finally having Roman’s attention on him.

“Are you mute or something?” Roman asked rudely, crossing his legs one over the other and leaning back in Victor’s desk chair. 

Victor frowned, shaking his head. He hated to admit it, but Roman made him speechless. And he also made him feel exposed, now that his piercing blue eyes looked Victor up and down.

“What’re you doing in my room?” Victor asked back instead. 

“Waiting for you, obviously,” Roman answered, looking around the small room with a disgusted expression, “I’d never set a foot in this sort of mess otherwise.”

“Why?” 

Roman’s eyes snapped back up to Victor’s face. He stared at him for a long moment.

“I’ve noticed you and your little habit,” Roman sneered, “You’re always there when I’m having one of my… moments. Always watching. But instead of appearing to be scared or put off, you just smile. Like I’m entertaining you with my outbursts.”

Victor couldn’t believe what he just heard. Roman actually noticed him? The spoiled brat was more observant than Victor had expected. 

Giving Roman a lopsided smile, Victor responded, “You're very entertaining when you snap. It makes you interesting to me. They all had it coming anyway.”

Roman’s eyes seem to light up at that and he shoots Victor a toothy grin in response, “So you agree. You agree that those fake maggots deserve to be squashed.”

“I do,” Victor nods. “But I don’t get why you hold yourself back so much if you want to put them in their place.” 

“Because of my stupid fucking parents,” Roman groaned, “I’m already on thin fucking ice with my father as it is. He keeps threatening to cut me off and I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not? You’d be free if he did.” Victor’s words were blunt and he could see that Roman was intrigued, but also hated it, since he probably wasn’t used to anyone challenging what he said. At least not like that.

“I know that. But… I don’t think I could handle the humiliation,” Roman said in a whiny voice that - surprisingly - Victor didn’t find annoying.

“You could. With me by your side.”

There was a spark in Roman’s eyes, “Oh? Forward much, aren’t we?”

Victor shrugged. He didn’t care. Not anymore. This was his chance and he’d take it, no matter what.

Tapping his fingers against his thigh, Roman continued, “Well, what do you suggest? I can’t just let myself be cut off without a plan…”

___

Victor wanted to hate Roman the second he heard his annoying, loud fake laughter ring through the dorm halls at Gotham Academy. He wanted to resent him, but instead felt pulled toward him. Roman Sionis was a magnetic field and no one stood a chance when getting too close, least of all Victor. 

Now, twenty years later, Victor couldn’t possibly care less. Roman was his and his alone. 

They both thrived, running their businesses and revelling in their true selves. No more hiding. No more lurking. No more Mommy and Daddy that could ruin all the fun. That was the first thing they had taken care of all those years ago. Roman was much better suited as the head and face of Janus Corp, after all, with Victor by his side.

[acapelladitty]

I've watched Birds Of Prey again, and I immediately searched for some Roman x Victor fics (for obvious reasons) and listen Ditty, the way you wrote about those two gay birds, omg *chef kiss* I love what you did with them! I just can't get enough! Thank you so much 🤍

People did seem to love them and I was very humbled by how well they were recieved (at one point they were the highest kudos'd for the entire pairing on AO3!!) so I'm delighted that you also enjoyed them! They're such a toxically co-dependent duo that it's a fun dynamic to dip in and out of xx

[hologramking]

zsaszmask still have a death grip on my soul idk what to tell you

[bruisedconscience-reblogs]

@dogtccth this is a song for Victor Zsasz & Roman Sionis.. The Black Canary will sing this song in the club but it’s about unrequited love & devotion & madness ❤️

[lokiiied]

i love him.

[bruisedconscience-reblogs]

God I'm a sucker for characters who are so utterly loyal to someone that they're completely unhinged. Characters who have no moral compass except their overwhelming devotion to whoever they've chosen to listen to. That's the good shit

[batterbutter]

[littleoddwriter]

Hey hru?

I was wondering if you could make a part two of Safe and Alive were like Roman and victor got Andrew a therapist but after on the 3rd session the therapist decided to go and a little drive with Andrew and they both sat in the front seat and Andrew like snapped and he had a knife on him that his dearest dad's gifted him that he stabbed the therapist with and when he Called his parents he was very calm and like telling the situation like it was a day at school and when Roman and victor got there he was like covered in blood while there was a bunch of blood all over the inside of the car due to how brutal it was

(sorry if it is too much gore and you can change it up if you want to)

Safe and Alive (Part 2) | ZsaszMask | KidFic

Hey there! I'm sorry it took me nearly 10 months to do this, gosh... thank you for your patience! <3 Also, um, what I assume was you, as well, sent me a request about Andrew before (in September); but my requests had been closed at that time. I kept it for a while because I thought I might write it anyway, but I decided to not do that now. Sorry! Just wanted to mention that, in case you were ever wondering about that one. Again, I'm sorry! Either way, I hope you enjoy this story. I decided to make it more or less just a glimpse into the aftermath, because this could have gone on forever, otherwise. And it already took me long enough to be able to write it at all, so let's not stretch that sort of luck, dhjkfjkgs Thank you for the request, take care! <3 summary; See above. notes; Kid Fic (OC - Andrew - is ZsaszMask's adopted son. He's 19 in this story.); Murder; Trauma; Trauma Response; Black-Out; Dissociation; Panic Attack; Hurt/Comfort. Part 1

Ko-Fi. Ao3.

His vision was partially red. He rubbed his eye, but that only seemed to make it worse. He blinked several times. His eyes watered, and he used the sunvisor and the small built-in mirror of it to look at what he’d caught in his eye. Frowning, he looked at the reflection of his face. It was covered in blood splatters, some of which had hit his left eye and caused his vision to partially blur and turn red. He blinked forcefully again, squeezing his eyes shut until it almost hurt, so they’d water again. They did. The blood, mixed with the moisture of his eyes, slipped out and down his cheek. His vision started to clear up a little. 

Sitting in the small, unfamiliar car in the very familiar alleyway, Andrew reluctantly turned his head to the side to look at the driver’s seat. There, he saw the dead body of his therapist, Ms. Lang. He had thought that maybe they had had an accident, but as he looked more closely at her and the car, he noticed no signs of that. Instead, he saw at least a dozen stab wounds through the torn, bloodied clothes of his therapist. 

And when his eyes wandered further, he noticed the knife between his feet. His dad gave it to him for his 16th birthday. For protection, he said. Usually, Andrew left it at home. But with the incident that almost cost him his life and did, indeed, claim the life of his attacker, Andrew realised that maybe his dad was right. A knife was multifunctional anyway, and so Andrew always had it in his pocket when he left the house. Something he rarely did since the incident a few weeks ago. 

That still didn’t explain why his therapist was dead next to him. Andrew couldn’t remember anything that happened after they took a turn into the alleyway and parked there to confront his trauma. 

Still unusually calm, Andrew removed his phone from his pocket and speed-dialled his dad’s number. The conversation was short, and almost robotic on his part, but he couldn’t recall any of it after he hung up the phone again. He just knew that the phone call happened, that he heard his parents’ voices, and that they must’ve been on their way to him now. That last part was only logic filling in the gaps for him. 

Not knowing how much time passed and barely noticing it at all, Andrew heard a car coming to a screeching halt behind him, then car doors being slammed shut, and hurried footsteps moving in his direction and quickly coming closer.

The passenger door was ripped open and Andrew came face to face with his dad, Roman, whose expression was one of slight anger and mostly concern. His papa’s head popped into view, then, looking at the inside of the car, past Andrew, both with fascination and also concern. 

“Why did you stab her to death?” Victor, his papa, asked curiously.

Andrew shook his head, shrugged his shoulders and looked back up at his parents with confusion, “I have no idea! I- I can’t remember anything. I just… I don’t know.” 

His parents exchanged a look that Andrew couldn’t quite decipher at that moment. And then his dad reached out to him and helped him out of the car, speaking soothingly to him all the way over to his Rolls Royce, “We’ll get you home and cleaned up. Maybe you’ll remember more when you’re less shaken up, ‘kay?” 

Andrew nodded weakly, his mind reeling as he desperately tried to remember what happened and why he would do such a thing to his therapist. She was always so kind to and patient with him. It didn’t make sense for him to feel threatened enough by her to kill her. Especially as brutally as it looked.

Back at home, and after a warm long bath, Andrew sat down with his parents. 

Roman assured him that everything was taken care of. No one would be the wiser that it had been Andrew’s doing. Just like a few weeks ago when he killed his attacker. He was extremely lucky to have parents like them, it seemed. Or else he’d be rotting in prison now, wouldn’t he? That thought terrified him.

“I need you to close your eyes, Andy,” Victor told him gently, but firmly in his usual gravelly voice. So familiar and calming. 

Andrew did as he was told, closing his eyes with a shaky little breath as his throat seemed to close up at the threatening darkness he was engulfed by that made him feel vulnerable.

“Can you think back to your appointment earlier? Why were you in that alleyway with your therapist?” his papa continued, then.

With furrowed brows, Andy tried to recall the therapy session. It was like trying to see fish through murky water. He could make out glimpses, but nothing too concrete.

“Take your time,” Roman whispered when it took Andrew a little while to say anything at all.

Eventually, Andrew decided to just voice those glimpses he could recall. Maybe if he talked about them, they would become clearer to him. 

“Um… I remember Ricky dropping me off at the office. I went in and sat down with Ms. Lang… I was telling her about my week and how I was feeling…” he slowly recounted what he could make out from his blurred memories, “I think… I think she suggested a drive down to the alley. To confront what happened. Because… I was making progress. I think? And, uh… I can remember feeling nauseous. And hearing and feeling my own heartbeat the closer we got to the alleyway. I don’t think I told her, though. I wanted to push myself, maybe.”

He paused for a long moment, his eyes moving rapidly beneath his closed eyelids as he was analysing each glimpse he caught.

Andrew could feel his pulse quickening and his throat closing up again. 

New pieces appeared before his inner eye. He could see the stabbing, hear her screams, and his own heavy breathing. He sounded angry and panicked to his own ears. Like a feral animal that felt threatened.

Shaking his head quickly, as though that would get rid of the memories, Andrew’s eyes snapped open. His breaths were short, quick, and strained. His body felt hot and cold at the same time, his hands were shaking and he felt like he was going to throw up.

“I don’t wanna do this anymore,” he choked out between laboured breaths. 

His dad put a soothing hand on the back of his sweaty neck. It startled him for a moment, but calmed him down once he realised that it was just his dad. 

“I’m sorry,” Andy whispered, his eyes brimming with tears.

Both of his parents told him it was okay as they hugged him. He knew that neither of them was exceptionally affectionate to anyone else, but they always tried their best with him. And he’d always appreciated it. Now more than ever.

Maybe he hadn't made as much progress as Ms. Lang had thought. And now he had to start over as he had another person's death on his conscience.

Andrew had no idea how his dads did it. Taking people's lives like it was just a hobby they enjoyed.

At times like this, he wished he could be more like them, though.

[acapelladitty]

Dear Ditty, is it possible to make Roman sub in the slightest? How shall someone so curious and brazen go about it? 👀 I know he definitely will BITE back

I do have some lovely, filthy ZsaszMask with Roman subbing but that's BoP specific. Comic!Roman though? Hmm, I don't think he would sub in the traditional sense but I think he would allow someone to take care of him in a 'pillow princess' kinda way. But he would be whiny and vicious and demanding the entire time.