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psychovigilantewrites · 5 years

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Don’t Call Me That Pt. 2

Wordcount: 10,129

A/N: I thought this part 2 would total up to 10k words, but when it hit 10k, I realised that I was only about 65 percent done. So based on the responses I got from tumblr, I decided to publish this first and then conclude the story later on!

TW: mentions of r*pe, mentions of torture, mentions of drugging someone (??) , mental breakdowns, vulnerability, descriptions of anxiety

Also, HERE’S MY FAV MEMES!! I’m so sorry that I can’t tag respective meme creators, because I saved them on my phone and some of them I forgot to include your usernames!! I’M SO SORRY!!! And honest to god is wear there were more but i must have lost them im so sorry im so incompetent lmao

memeesss

You glanced at your phone.

It had already been a week in Hawaii with your friends, and Jason still hadn’t texted you.

Well, you should have expected it, really. Jason was a traumatised, mentally ill man who had been locked away for two years.

Of course he wouldn’t text you first.

You had contemplated texting him over the past few days, typing in an array of messages ranging from a simple “hey” to a whole paragraph, and deleting all of it without hitting send. Did he even switch the phone on? Was he surfing the internet? Or was the phone still there on the shelf where you had left it.

It was driving you crazy.

“Do you have a boyfriend we don’t know about?” a voice called.

You looked up and squinted at the man who was standing up, looking down at you. You were sitting on the beach, a little further away from the ocean where your friends were.

“What are you talking about?” you asked as Alex plopped down next to you.

“You’ve been fidgety the whole time,” he pointed out, combing back his dark shoulder length hair with his fingers, getting sand in them. “We’re on a private beach, and you’ve been fussing over your phone. Who are you talking to?”

“No one,” you grumbled truthfully.

“The girls have been gossiping,” he gestured to the two other girls playing in the water. Your closest friends. It was four of you in that inseparable group.

“Of course they have,” you groaned, “Tell them to SAY IT TO MY FACE, COWARDS!”

You shouted at them, earning you grins and middle fingers from the distance.

“They’re saying you’re in love with someone,” he chuckled, “But they always say stupid shit like that without any evidence. But sometimes, a girl’s intuition is just right, ya know?”

“Stop beating around the bush, Alex,” you rolled your eyes at him despite knowing he couldn’t see past your sunglasses. “No, I’m not in love. I’m just waiting for a text that might never come.”

“Why don’t you text him first?”

“Because it’s not as simple as that!” you flailed your arms, “He’s… complicated. I can’t just text him anything.”

“Girl, unless he’s Mr. Nottingham, or related to you, then it really isn’t that complicated,” he joked.

“Ugh,” you groaned again, falling back onto the cloth you spread out. “Fine. I’ll text him.”

“Atta girl,” Alex grinned, “I’m gonna head back in the water. Join us after. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved.

Opening the text window for what had to be the thirtieth time, you finally decided to text him.

You: Miss me yet?

Staring intently at the small ‘sent’ below your message bubble, you waited for it to turn to ‘delivered’.

“Yes!” you hissed. It meant that Jason had indeed switched on the phone.

But after twenty minutes you realised that it didn’t matter if Jason switched on the phone if he didn’t want to talk to you. Cursing to yourself, you decided to join your friends in the water, hoping it’ll distract you from checking your phone every five minutes for a text message that might never come.

After an hour of actually spending time with your friends, all four of you returned to the villa, your mood elevated. Checking your phone, you could have jumped for joy when you saw not one, but four consecutive texts in a row.

Jason: Duck off. Jason: What the duck Jason: WHY CANT I SAY DUCK Jason: I DUCKING HATE THIS

You couldn’t let out a string of giggles.

“Oooh, lover boy texted you back, huh?” Alex peeked over your shoulder. “Gimme, I wanna mess with him.”

He snatched your phone from your hands, surprisingly swift and smooth for a civilian, raising it way above his head so you couldn’t reach it and opened the camera.

“Alex-!”

He threw his other arm over your shoulder and pulled you into his bare chest, crushing you before you could tackle him down. He snapped a picture and sent it.

You froze in horror.

“Why the hell did you do that?!” you yelled.

“Relax, I was just messing around,” he gave your phone back to you.

“You don’t- you don’t understand, you fucking asshole!” you screamed.

“I- I’m sorry,” Alex stuttered, surprised by your reaction. “I was just-”

“Fuck off!” you snapped.

Panicking, you saw the little notification below the picture turning from Received to Read.

No. No, no, no, no.

This was bad.

You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason by sending him photos of your activities, thinking that he might react badly to the sudden surplus of familiarity and sense of being close to someone. Now you were worried that he might start to push you away in fear, reverting back to how he was before, and months of progress would have been all for nothing.

He would probably start swearing at you, or worse- switch off the phone and reject any form of communication completely. You hurriedly texted a reply.

You: I’m so sorry! I didn’t send that, my friend was just messing around.

Expecting the worst, you braced yourself for the inevitable. Instead, he sent you:

Jason: Who the hell is that guy?? Jason: Why are you in your underwear??

Your mouth hung open as you stared in shock at the screen. Because you took so long to recover from the shock, he sent you another message.

Jason: ???

Snapping out of it, you texted back.

You: That’s just my friend. Sorry about that! And I’m not in my underwear, it’s a bikini! I’m in Hawaii.

You waited for him to reply, but ten minutes of you sitting anxiously on the turquoise sofa in the middle of the villa listening to the waves of the beach outside from the open doors passed by, and he still hadn’t.

Perhaps he’s busy- wait. There’s no way Jason would be busy. You tried to coax him into a conversation.

You: You can turn off your autocorrect if you want to swear without hassle. Go to your Keyboard settings.

You plopped your phone on the empty seat next to you and dried your hair.

“Ugh, come on!” complained Natalie, fully clothed and washed, walking towards the open concept kitchen from her room. “You’re getting sand everywhere!”

“Woops, my bad,” you grinned.

“There’s a shower outside on the porch for a reason you know,” she flipped her blond beach waves at you, looking through the fridge.

Alex stood quietly at the kitchen island, now scared to say anything.

You rolled your eyes. “Just don’t do it again.”

“Okay, I promise!” he grinned.

Ding.

Jason: fuck. fuck. fucking fuck. Jason: found it. You: Proud of you, man.

You went to your room and showered, then dried off and put on fresh clothes while waiting for Jason to reply.

Of course, he never did.

Groaning, you had to remind yourself that he was not used to human interaction, and texting would come unnaturally to him. Which meant that you had to be the one to keep the conversation going.

You: Do anything interesting since I left?

You saw him typing almost immediately this time.

Jason: no.

Of course not.

You: Have you been eating properly? Jason: yeah.

God, it was so difficult. You were in the middle of typing something when he replied again.

Jason: yoire not my mom Jason: yoire Jason: YOIRE Jason: FUCK WHY CANR I TYPE

You felt guilty for laughing, but you did anyway.

You: Now that you switched off autocorrect, it won’t correct your typos and misspells anymore. Jason: i fucking knw that. Ive been gone for two yeard not twenty. You: Then why do you sound like a grandpa? Jason: BECAISE YOU GAVE ME A FUCKINF IPHONE!! I USED AN ANDROID!!

Now you were really laughing out loud, so you sent him a GIF of a woman rolling her eyes.

Jason: wtf you can send gifs throug text now?? You: Welcome to 2020, my dude. Jason: im not your fucking dude

Typing a reply, Jason interrupted you once again.

Jason: teach me how to do that

Smiling widely, you found that you couldn’t wait for the next week to pass by so you could go back and see him.

***

“How’s Jason?” you asked the minute you reached the Cave computers, panting from the run down.

“Wow, hello to you, too,” Dick chuckled, spinning towards you on the wheeled chair.

It was a Sunday afternoon, and Bruce and Dick were in front of the computers, discussing a case that had connections to Bludhaven Police Department.

Gone for two weeks, you had a lot to catch up on.

“According to Alfred, he’s doing well,” Bruce answered, “Even started to ask for seconds last week. Now Alfred has been making portions for two.”

“He asked? For seconds?” you gasped. “How?”

“He left a note on the tray two days after you left. He’s been making meal requests, too. Texts Alfred in the morning to let him know.”

“Texted?!”

“Alfred slipped his number on the tray in case Jason wanted anything specific.”

“I slipped mine as well, but he hasn’t texted me yet,” Dick pouted.

“When did he start texting?” you ignored Dick.

“Last Sunday.”

So the same day you started texting him, then.

“He hasn’t texted me,” Dick sighed, looking dejected like a kid who was told Disneyland blew up.

“He’ll come around, Dick,” you offered him a smile, “I mean- he’s already texting Alfred!”

“Yeah,” he lamented.

“Okaaay, nice talk. I’m gonna go see him now, bye.”

You ran to the box, but stopped right before you opened the internal door. After checking your hair with your phone camera, you tried to stifle the butterflies in your stomach.

Ugh, you were so fucked.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door.

“Yeah,” Jason’s muffled grunt answered you.

Pushing it open, your eyes immediately went to the bed only to find that he wasn’t lounging around reading a book like you expected. Instead, your mouth dropped open when you saw him on the floor, doing push ups.

Shirtless.

Jason had changed drastically during the two weeks you were gone. You noticed that he had definitely gained weight, as well as muscle mass.

“Uh, wh-what are you..?”

He stood up, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.

His muscles were much more prominent and defined now, and he looked like he was going to achieve Dick’s physique if he kept it up for another month or two.

“Welcome back,” he simply said before taking gulps from a water bottle you definitely had not seen before.

“Thanks,” you walked over and sat on his bed, “I’m glad to see that you decided to start taking care of yourself again.”

“What, this? This isn’t for me.”

“Huh?” you cocked your head in curiosity.

“I… I lost a lot of muscle mass. My body- it isn’t how it used to be,” he frowned, “And I can’t have you lusting over it when it’s not at its peak.”

“What- what do you-?” you stammered, suddenly getting hot.

Jason merely smirked and then continued his push ups.

You watched as his developing muscles rippled, a thin layer of sweat making his skin glisten in the light. It was amazing how he had progressed so much in such a short period of time. You guessed that he must have just been occupying his days by working out.

No wonder he’s been asking for seconds.

“Enjoying the view?” Jason breathed, pausing with his arms straightened, his head angled upwards towards you.

“No, shut up,” you looked away.

“Here, be useful,” he started, “Sit on my back.”

“What?”

“I’ve gotten used to my own body weight, I need extra resistance,” he elaborated, “Come on, sit on my back.”

“But it’s all sweaty,” you whined, pretending to protest. Definitely pretending- for the sake of your own dignity.

You got up and went over towards him anyway.

Carefully, awkwardly, you sat on his back as you would a park bench. You rested your palms flat against his sticky skin to stabilise yourself. Suddenly, he dipped down without warning, earning a soft squeal from you.

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” he strained, but continued to do the push ups. He was shakier, struggling with the weight, and after twenty-five, he paused. “Okay, I think I’m done.”

But before you had the chance to get off him, he suddenly stood up, throwing you off his back to have you fall on the floor on your ass.

“Jason, you assho-” you clapped your hand over your mouth, realising what you had just said.

Oh, no. Oh, fuck.

He stood towering over you, his jaw clenching as he stared you down with his cold, blue eyes.

“I’m so sorry! I forgot! It was a reflex and-”

“Whatever. I don’t care anymore,” he rolled his eyes, reaching for his bottle.

You blinked. Then scrambled to your feet.

“You don’t care anymore?” you repeated slowly.

“I don’t care if you call me that,” he huffed.

That made your heart swell and melt at the same time.

“I got used to your voice,” he mumbled, expression changing as he looked away. He frowned, as if he was angrily staring at a distant object.

You had just guessed that he didn’t like to be called his name because of a sense of familiarity, but now you were thinking that there was much more to that than what you had originally thought.

“So, I can call you… Jason?” you tested.

“Yeah, call me whatever you want,” he sat on his bed, looking up at you.

You smiled, thankful that you had finally crossed that bridge. “You know, I could get some workout stuff for you? Weights, bands, that bar thing that you can put at your door frame for pull ups…”

“You’d like to see that, huh?” he smirked.

“You flatter yourself too much,” you scoffed.

“How was Hawaii?” he changed the subject all of a sudden.

“It was fun. Beach was great, locals were great, loved the vibe- what are you doing?”

Jason had stood back up and started to walk closer and closer to you, getting all up in your space like a predator finally cornering its prey. You kept on taking steps back until your ass hit the edge of the desk.

Nowhere else to run, your heart started hammering. He leaned in, his hands resting on the desk on either side of your body, trapping you against the table and himself. You looked up and gulped. You could almost feel the heat radiating from his bare skin.

“Are you afraid of me?” he muttered lowly.

“Why would I be afraid of you?” you whispered.

“You tell me,” he said.

“Well, I’m not afraid of you,” you stated.

“Oh really?” he raised an eyebrow. Then, you felt his hand grip your wrist tightly, pressing down on your skin with his fingers. “Your pulse is very fast for someone who’s not afraid of me.”

“It’s because you’re all up in my space!” you argued.

“Didn’t look like you mind when your friend,” he snarled the word, “was all up in your space.”

“My friend? What- oh,” you widen your eyes in realisation, “You mean Alex.”

“Is that his name?”

“Alex is just a friend, nothing more. He’s just someone I’m close to,” you reassured him.

Which then made you think about why you were reassuring him.

“Oh, you were definitely close to him,” Jason growled.

“Wait- are you… jealous?” a smile creeped your lips.

He scowled at you for a few moments, and you could see the little tics in his expression that said he was annoyed. The flared nostrils, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching, the very slight twitches at the corner of his left eye.

“No,” he finally said, taking a step back from you. “I’m going to shower. Since you couldn’t stop staring at me, the invitation is still open for you to join.”

“You know, I’m starting to think that maybe I prefer it when you were broody instead of this. Please go back to your depressive mental state,” you sarcastically replied.

Jason barked out an actual laugh. Though his laugh was odd, like someone who’s only now discovering that humans were indeed capable of laughter, you found comfort in it. It was no longer hysterical and devoid of humor. He was getting better, learning to embrace a connection with someone, and it made you extremely happy.

“Maybe I should,” he answered with a cheeky glint in his eye, “Then that way you can give me more sponge baths.”

He left you alone in his room, flushed and at a loss for words.

***

“I find it very odd that people would yell ‘Batman!’ when they realise you’re there,” you rambled while climbing out of the Batmobile.

You were absolutely drenched from the downpour that had been going on all night. It was 4 am on a friday night and you had just returned from patrol.

Bruce took off his cowl immediately, revealing tired eyes despite the relatively slow night.

“It’s like they’re saying ‘Look at me! I’m here! Please knock me out or hang me upside down from the-’ Bruce?”

Bruce had stiffen, staring at something behind you. You turned around and was shocked to see Jason in the mid-distance, sitting on the ground outside the black box that was his room, leaning against the cool metal.

He himself was staring intently at Bruce, not even sparing you a glance.

You looked back and forth between the two men, sensing a high tension silent conversation.

Then, Bruce’s eyes relaxed and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards ever so slightly in that hardly-there-Bruce-smile.

He gave Jason one stiff nod of understanding, then walked away to the computers at the other end of the cave, leaving you alone with his son.

Jason relaxed as you walked over to him, wringing your hair to squeeze out all the excess water.

“Aw, you waited up for me,” you teased, standing in front of him with your hands on your hips, grinning away.

“Fuck off,” he snorted, “I was bored.”

You noticed him clenching his jaw as he looked at you from top to bottom, eyes lingering longer on the ‘R’ on your left breast.

Ah, it was his first time seeing you in your uniform.

His uniform.

Suddenly, you felt like an imposter in those colors and had the strong urge to rip the uniform off.

You wanted to say something, but Jason beat you to it.

“There were times in that shit hole where I wanted to burn that uniform off my skin,” he grit, “Kept on thinking to myself. I wish I never became Robin. I wish I never met Bruce Wayne.”

Your heart shattered at his confession. It was extremely rare for him to bring up anything related to his two year torture, and the previous times were never in such detail.

Realising you needed to say something, you opened your mouth. “I’m so-”

“Don’t,” he cut you off, “You don’t have to say anything.”

Yes, sometimes you knew that he just wanted you to listen.

You nodded silently and went to sit next to him on the floor.

“It… suits you,” he forced out.

“Hmm?”

“The uniform. It suits you. More than it ever suited me,” he grumbled.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I think your ass would look quite nice in green,” you joked, nudging his shoulder with your own.

He chuckled deeply, nudging you back even harder- hard enough for you to lose your balance and topple sideways, earning another breathy laugh from Jason.

***

Another month passed by, and you found yourself falling deeply for Jason- much to your dismay. You knew Jason wasn’t ready for any kind of intense emotions, and that it would take a very long time before he was.

So you swallowed your emotions down, stifling them and hoping it would go away.

The two of you had developed a pleasant friendship, often bickering and joking around, with Jason teasing you about your obvious physical attraction to him.

He also now occasionally waited outside his cube for you to come back after patrol, never really venturing too far from it, and still avoiding contact with both Bruce and Dick. Only you and Alfred had the privilege to speak to him.

Even then, sometimes you would visit his room but only getting a “I’m not feeling it today. Please leave.”

Understandingly, you would nod silently and leave him alone. You knew he still had his bad days, sometimes not eating his meals.

But mostly, he was getting better, both mentally and physically.

With nothing much to do the whole day, Jason was now obsessed with working out and bulking up. He now had a few simple equipment in his room- mostly weights.

You figured that it was a coping mechanism for him, a healthy outlet to channel all his rage and negative emotions into.

But come on. He was getting even hotter and it was making it extremely difficult for you to stop yourself from checking him out, fantasizing about him when he wasn’t around. Still, you couldn’t complain. Even though he hadn’t reached Dick’s size yet, he was very near to it, and his naturally bigger body frame and build made up for the still developing muscles.

Hell, he was now sporting a six pack.

But you knew that he was still not as well as you hoped he would be. The bloodshot eyes he had was proof that he doesn’t sleep well- and you soon found out why.

It was a little past midnight on your night off from patrol, and you were using your break in the best way you could think of- by sleeping. Something woke you up that night.

A soft knock on your door.

You frowned, eyes still closed, wondering who it was.

Bruce would usually knock twice. Strong, clear, and with purpose. Dick would start pounding rapidly on your door, annoying you intentionally. Alfred would give three soft knocks followed by a ‘Miss?’

Your eyes flew open. There was only one other person in the manor.

Throwing your covers aside, you jumped out of bed and rushed to the door to open it.

Jason stood outside your door in the dim lights of the hallway, frowning and running his fingers nervously through his messy dark hair. He was wearing a t-shirt with boxers, standing awkwardly.

“Jason?” you hated how your voice sounded so sleepy. You cleared your throat. “Are you okay? Would you like to come in?”

He nodded silently, and you made way for him to enter before closing the door behind you.

“Sit on the bed,” you told him while jumping back into yours, sitting up cross legged.

The bed dipped when he sat on it, copying your motion and crossed his legs.

You waited for him to say something, your eyes straining to catch his in the dark. But he just remained silent, staring into space and avoiding your eyes.

“How did you know this was my room?” you asked, starting with a light topic.

“Only one that was locked. I already know where everyone else sleeps,” he explained.

“That’s right,” you realised, “I tend to forget that you’re probably even more familiar with the manor than I am.”

“Did you know there’s an old dumbwaiter in Bruce’s room?” you saw him smirk from the shadows that was casted on his face, “I used to hide in there, waiting to catch him off guard.”

“What? Why?”

“Dick and I, we had a bet,” he recalled the memory, “Whoever gets to surprise Bruce first would owe the other a special favor. Only rule was that we had to have it on video as proof.”

You appreciated that moment, the first time he ever spoke about both Dick and Bruce as a fond memory.

“I won, by the way,” he continued, “But- I forgot to press record on my phone.”

“Oh, no,” you groaned for him.

“Yeah, and Dick refused to believe me,” he chuckled, “That old man didn’t want to admit it either. But I swear- the look on his face when I jumped out while he and some model were going at it- priceless.”

Your jaw dropped, and then you burst into a fit of laughter, tears filling your eyes.

“You- you- you jumped out on him while he was having sex?!” you squealed.

“Yeah,” he grinned, “I didn’t even care that it sort of scarred me, because I managed to catch Batman off guard.”

The both of you laughed, his deep voice mingling with your own on that quiet night.

“I’m glad you’re here, Jason,” you smiled warmly at him.

But then, his smile fell.

“I hate my name now.”

“I’m sorry,” you began, “You said it was okay to call you that, so I-”

“No, it’s fine,” he started running his fingers through his hair again, “It’s just- I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything,” you reassured, “It won’t leave this room. I promise.”

He looked at you, worry in his eyes. “Okay. Fine. Yeah.”

You waited for him to begin.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been having nightmares. Almost every night. It’s always the same one.”

“You want to tell me about it?” you prompted him after waiting for him to continue.

“I hate my name because he said it a lot. Joker,” he scowled, “After repeatedly burning my skin for my name, it’s like that’s all he said. In that annoying, high pitched, sing-song voice of his. Jason, Jason, Jason. It made me hate my name. It made me hate hearing it.”

“I- I didn’t know how much time passed when I was in there,” he continued, “But, fuck. It was- it was hell. And the worst part was that I kept on waiting for Bruce. Waiting and hoping for him to find me and save me. I was so desperate. You- I-”

He choked on his words. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips tight.

You wanted to reach out to him, hug him, tell him that everything was okay now. But you didn’t. You waited for him to collect himself so he could finish telling you his story, just like how he wanted to.

“Anyway, I- despite all that,” he sighed, “That was the only thing that kept me sane. I kept on clinging onto the hope that he was out there, searching. And that helped for a while. Until- until that happened.”

He was breathing heavily now, fidgeting more. Jason was definitely getting increasingly agitated the deeper he went.

“Fuck,” he breathed, “Fuck.”

The moment you realised he was crying was when he let out a sniffle. You automatically took his hand in yours, squeezing it as a form of comfort.

“It’s okay,” you told him, “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready.”

“No,” he shook his head, “I need to. I have to. I can’t take this anymore. Keeping everything in, I feel like I’m about to fucking explode.”

“Okay, then take it slow,” you said, “No rush. Anytime you’re ready.”

He nodded, eyes still closed, as if he was afraid of letting you see him cry.

“One night,” he began, “I think- I don’t know what was different- but I think something went wrong for him. Or right? That’s how it was. Tormenting me was fun, but it was also an outlet for him. But at the same time when he was happy, he also tortured me. He came to me, and- injected me with some sort of drug. That never happened before. He made sure that my head was clear whenever he hurt me so that I could feel everything he did.”

“But- he did- and- immediately, I felt weak,” he continued, “I mean, I was already weak. But my head. It was cloudy. I remember everything clearly, but it was like my brain couldn’t process it, couldn’t communicate with my body. I felt like I was looking out through a window that was my eyes- like I was in someone else’s body, experiencing someone else’s moments.”

“He released me,” Jason’s voice was now barely a whisper. “He released me from the ropes, and I fell to the floor. And then he- he- fuck.”

He let go of your hand and started pulling at his hair, rocking back and forth on your bed. He was sobbing now, his shoulders jerking up in sharp intakes of breaths. The only thing you could do was to stay silent and hold back your own tears.

You rested your hand on his knee, giving him a textile connection with reality so he doesn’t fall into his own thoughts.

“You- he- he- ruh- ruhp-”

Your heart sank to your stomach in horror as you realised what Jason was trying to say. It was as if you were plunged into icy water, chills running down your spine at the true revelation of what he had gone through in that cursed cell.

“Oh, no,” you breathed.

“He pushed me down,” he choked, “Pushed me down and climbed on top. I- I couldn’t even fight him. I was- I was conscious the whole time and I knew what was happening, but I couldn’t fucking do anything.”

Your tears were falling down now, both at the sight of Jason looking so vulnerable and fragile, and at his confession. Not being able to help yourself, you threw your arms over his neck and crashed into his hard body, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

His arms immediately wrapped around you, clutching you so hard it was painful as he buried his own face into your shoulder.

“And he kept on saying my name,” he said in muffled cries, “Jason, Jason, Jason. The whole fucking time. And- and I knew. He didn’t do it for pleasure. He did it to torment me. He- he didn’t even- he didn’t even finish.”

Jason sobbed into your skin for the next few minutes, his tears soaking through your night shirt. “But I did. Even though it was painful. Fuck, the pain was worse than anything he had ever done to me before. But- he- I- I fucking came.”

The both of you were sobbing now, his ragged breaths mingling together with your own on that quiet night.

His grip on you was tight, as if he thought that if he let go, you would disappear. So he clung onto you with all his might to keep you there with him as he recalled the horrific events.

“That's what broke me. I was so disgusted with myself. I hated myself. And he- he saw everything and- and laughed. He laughed so hard, I thought he was going to choke and die. I’ve never seen him laugh like that. And I remember every single fucking moment of being helpless on that fucking floor while he- fuck. Fuck.”

“And then he left. He left me on the floor bleeding and I never saw him again. And I went fucking insane. I tried to kill myself so many fucking times. So many times, I lost count. That’s what I dream about every night. His laughs, and his ‘Jason, Jason, Jason’.”

And that was that. That was the story.

The end of Jason Todd.

The both of you cried long and hard that night in each other’s arms. Eventually, you both lied down on the pillows together, underneath the covers.

“Please don’t tell Bruce,” he whispered to you.

Your head was on his chest, his big arms wrapped around your waist, your legs tangled with his.

You smiled at that. Even with the trauma, even with the sense of abandonment he felt, he still wanted to protect Bruce from knowing the truth.

Because the both of you knew that the truth would kill him.

“I promise,” you whispered back.

And then the both of you fell asleep together.

***

“Has Jason been sleeping in your room with you?” Bruce asked you on one fine Saturday morning at breakfast.

It had been about a week and a half since the first time Jason knocked on your door and poured out his feelings to you.

“He gets nightmares,” you tried to explain.

He thought that if he told you everything, the nightmares would stop. But it didn’t. But he then realised that the only thing that made it better was sleeping by your side, having someone there to wake him up from living his own hell in a loop.

“And do the two of you… Just sleep?” Bruce frowned.

“Yes!” you widen your eyes in horror at the insinuation. “Bruce! Come on!”

“I know you have feelings for him, and I’m sure he does for you as well. But I don’t think something like that is what Jason needs right now,” he stated.

“Yes, I know!” you groaned at the thought having that kind of conversation with him, “Jesus, Bruce. I know. I’m just there to wake him up or help him fall back asleep. Nothing more.”

Bruce nodded, deep in thought. “Has he… told you? About what happened?”

You pursed your lips. “Yes.”

“You’re not going to tell me?”

“No.”

“Hmm,” his frown went deeper. “I understand. He will tell me when he is ready.”

“Exactly,” you smiled, hiding the fact that Jason may never tell Bruce what happened. Never the full story.

“He still hasn’t left the manor?”

“No,” you sighed, “I asked him if he wanted some fresh air. Just outside the main door, not even going down the steps. But he refused. Told me to, and I quote, ‘Fuck off’.”

“Well, he’s only just left the cave, and it’s just to your room,” Bruce thought out loud, “It’s still progress. Especially since he’s been talking to you about the past.”

“He only spoke about it one time,” you said, “And then never again.”

“I see,” he hummed, “And you’re okay with him sleeping with you?”

“Next to me, Bruce, sleeping next to me,” you corrected.

“Yes, and you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah, it’s all good,” you assured him, “I can kick him out any time I want- but I don’t want to. He looks like a lost puppy sometimes.”

“An angry lost puppy.”

You chuckled at that and couldn’t agree more.

*** While Jason got the sleep he needed when he was next to you, it was counterproductive on your end. You had never been with anyone before, and definitely had not slept on the same bed with another man.

So to feel his body heat and breaths against your skin, his occasional light snores, it made your mind go on hyperdrive.

Most of the time, the two of you would just lie down, your back against his front, or your backs against each other, or both on your backs just staring at the ceiling- and talked. You would be the one talking the most, of course, about anything you could think of. You would tell him about your day, your patrols, something you read about online, or the current news.

But that one particular night during week three of him sleeping next to you, the two of you were silent. It wasn’t an awkward or uncomfortable silence, but the kind of silence that was pleasant and was better described as a peaceful quiet.

You had your back pressed against his front and his arm was lazily draped over your waist. It was a cold night, and you were wearing just a tank top and pyjama shorts, snuggling under the covers that went up all the way to your nose.

Shifting a bit while snuggling comfortably, you pressed yourself against Jason’s body to get more of his heat. But then, you were met with something poking against your lower back.

“Ngh, please ignore that,” Jason huffed.

Oh.

For some reason, you forgot that Jason was a physically healthy male who was capable of having sexual thoughts and feelings. All this while, you thought you were the only one.

“Are you- uh- is that- uh-” you stuttered, feeling your face flush with heat.

Feeling your body suddenly alert with excitement.

“Yes, it’s my fucking penis,” he grit almost angrily, “What, never heard of an erection before?”

“Of course I have!” you argued rather defensively, “It’s just- I’m surprised, that’s all.”

“Why?” he demanded, “You didn’t think I could get it up or something?”

“No, of course not!” you denied, “It just didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.”

A pause. Then-

“Well,” he sighed, “You wouldn’t have been wrong.”

Your mind blanked for a second.

“What do you mean?” you asked softly.

“It’s my- fuck- it’s my first time,” he confessed.

“Your first time getting an erection?” you gasped.

“No, you idiot,” he snapped, “It’s my first time getting hard since… since… then.”

Oh. Oh, you were an idiot.

“It’s just- after that- even when I was downstairs, alone and safe, I- I couldn’t,” he told you, “I kept on thinking back to that time and- and I couldn’t. I found it disgusting.”

And immediately, like someone doused you in cold water, any feeling of horniness you had when you first felt his erection against you disappeared. You just felt so sad for him, but also angry. Angry that he had to go through all of that, and angrier that there was nothing you could do about it.

“So, why do you think you’re getting it now?” you asked. Perhaps talking about it in an objective manner would help guide him through his thought process.

“Are you kidding me?” he scoffed, “You’re fucking pressing your ass against my dick, what did you think would happen?”

“Wait, what?” your eyes widen, “You’re hard because of me?”

“No shit,” he said, “You’re hardly wearing any clothes, too.”

You shouldn’t feel happy due to the circumstance and context, but there you were ecstatic that he found you attractive enough to pop a boner after so long.

“Fuck,” he sighed, suddenly pressing himself closer to you.

His hand that draped over your waist when to actually grip it. Then, then, he grinded his hard on against your ass.

“Mmm,” he rumbled deeply, “Feels good.”

There. That was it. You were once again flooded with the feeling of heat that pooled at your stomach, a tingling sensation started at your core. Feeling hot despite the low temperature of the night, you clenched your thighs together, needing the slight pressure.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

“Yeah,” he grinded on you again, and then unexpectedly let out a chuckle.

“What is it?” you smiled, loving it whenever you heard him laugh.

“I thought… For the longest time, I thought I was broken. That he broke me,” he revealed, “I thought I needed to get all Wingardium Leviosa on this little fucker.”

“Oh my God,” you laughed and groaned at the same time, “You’re so fucking embarassing.”

He laughed along with you and continued. “But now I’m hard and- and horny. You made me feel like I’m normal again. Like I’m sixteen again, and getting horny over everything.”

Sometimes, we take the normal things for granted. Food, shelter, clothes. In this case, it was a goddamned boner. In a way, Jason’s erection was symbolic- however funny it sounded. Getting your sexual appetite and need back after being so traumatised was a massive leap for many people who had experienced the same thing.

It meant that Jason was healing well.

“Does that make you happy?” you asked.

“Not particularly,” he admitted, “But I’m definitely not sad either.”

“That’s good enough for now, then,” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he breathed.

Another few moments of silence. You could feel it, his cock pushing into you. However tempted you were to push back and grind, you held yourself still.

“Uh, Jason?” you voiced.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to like, take care of it?” you asked, “I mean. My bathroom is available. Or- there are many empty rooms.”

“No,” he simply stated.

“No?”

“No.”

“It’s kinda poking into me.”

“Just ignore it.”

“Ignore it?” you gaped, “How can I ignore it? You’re literally pressing it into my ass.”

“Well, then do you want to take care of it?” he teased.

You couldn’t argue back. “Fine, I’ll ignore it.”

He chuckled. “I’ll turn around.”

When he made the movement, you suddenly grabbed him by the wrist. “No, it’s fine. Stay here.”

You expected him to tease you like he usually would, make a crass comment, or even a ‘fuck off’.

Instead, he wrapped his arms around you again in silence, and the both of you drifted to sleep.

***

“Do you think this color suits me?” Natalie asked, holding up a floral red dress.

The four of you were at the mall in Diamond District. Now that high school was over, and everyone would be going off to separate colleges in a few months, you tried to spend time with each other as much as you could.

“Any color suits you, Nat,” you rolled your eyes, “You’re hot stuff.”

“Jesus, it’s like you’re shoving it in our faces at this point,” Sarah added, flipping her brunette hair to the side, tight curls flowing down.

“Aw, you guys,” Nat pretended to tear up, “I’m gonna miss you guys so much!”

“Not again,” Alex groaned, “We’ve been through this so many times.”

“I’m gonna be so miserable without you guys,” Natalie continued on, ignoring Alex’s interruption.

“I don’t know,” Sarah shrugged, “I think I’d enjoy New York. I can have pizza parties with the rats in my overpriced apartment.”

You chuckled at Sarah’s joke. Everyone was leaving Gotham except you. Deciding to continue with Robin, you opted for Gotham University- prestigious, old, and most importantly, close to home.

Your phone dinged in your pocket. You opened it to find texts from Dick.

Dick: OH MY GOD. Dick: I’m at the Manor. Dick: Was going to the Cave gym to work out. Dick: AND Dick: JASON IS HERE!!! WHAT DO I DO?!?!

That was new. Jason would usually just use whatever basic equipment he had in his room to work out. The fact that he was at the Cave’s sparring area where all the other fancier work out equipment were was out of the ordinary.

You: Just go. See if he reacts. If he suddenly stiffens and just stay there not doing anything, then leave. If he continues on, then it’s okay to stay- but don’t initiate anything! Dick: OKOKOK

You waited anxiously for Dick’s update. All four of you were now walking towards the food court, but you hardly listened to their bickering. Forty-five minutes passed before Dick texted you again.

Dick: OMG HE TALKED TO ME You: What did he say? Dick: He asked me to pass him his towel. You: That’s all he said? Dick: IT’S PROGRESS OKAY!!

Dick was right. It meant that Dick was now the third person Jason had spoken to. Adding another person to his list of contacts was definitely progress.

You were happy for him.

You:Is he still there? Dick: Nah he left Dick: But WOW he’s looking good. He must have been really going at it. I think he might get bigger than me soon You: All he does now is work out. He’s obsessed. Dick: Yeah I can tell

You decided to leave it at that for now and try to concentrate on your friends, but Dick sent another message.

Dick: ARE YOU TWO HAVING SEX?!?!

You spat out your drink, earning weird looks from everyone.

You: DICK!!!! WTF NO!!

Dick never replied.

***

“Can I ask you for a favor?” Jason asked, his voice breaking the silence of your dark room. The two of you were on your bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling.

“Of course,” you said. It didn’t matter to you what Jason asks for. He hardly ever asked for anything.

“Could you… Take me out tomorrow?” he requested, “If you’re not doing anything else, that is.”

“Uh, sure!” you nodded, surprised. “Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged, “It doesn’t matter.”

“Yeah, okay,” you hesitated, “But- are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to go so far so quickly. Maybe you should start with just going to the backyard?”

“No, I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “I’m not a kid.”

“Okay then,” you agreed. “Tomorrow.”

You kept on glancing anxiously at him the next day as he climbed into the passenger seat of your car. He was quiet, but looked perfectly fine.

Switching the engine on, you drove out of the garage and out the large automatic gates. Trees soon surrounded the lonely road on both sides as you descended downhill into town.

“So where are we going?” he asked.

“I thought Robinson Park would be nice,” you said. It was around three in the afternoon, yet Gotham was dark as though the day was ending. It was cloudy, skies grey and wind blowing.

“You’re taking me to a park?” he scoffed.

“It’s more quiet than anywhere else,” you reasoned with him, “Less people. Spacious. Lots of greenery.”

“Whatever.”

Reaching the parking space of the park, you noticed that there were a few cars. Mothers and nannies liked to bring children out to the park around that time. Joggers and teens, college students and retired elderly seeking a little escape from the high rise buildings of concrete and glass.

You turned the engine off and proceeded to open the door, only then noticing Jason stiffening. Looking over to him, you saw that his eyebrows were pulled down in a deep frown, his jaw clenched, his hands in fists on his knees.

You didn’t say anything or make any comment. Leaning back into your seat, you waited until Jason was ready.

About five minutes passed before he took a deep breath, gave you a nod, and then opened his door.

The two of you walked along a path at the park, going deeper inside and further away from your car. There were a few joggers around, some tourists, and some teens taking photos. You saw a group of kids in the distance playing frisbee, and the others were walking their dogs.

An empty bench stood in the middle of the park, overlooking a clearing. You headed there, Jason following closely behind.

“It’s a bit gloomy today,” you pouted, “As if Gotham could be anything other than that, of course.”

You looked at Jason.

He looked like a scared dog being brought out for the first time.

His jittery knees were bouncing rapidly, his wide eyes were darting at every movement, his forehead was covered with a thin layer of sweat, and his breathing was heavy.

“Woah, woah,” you reached out to him, putting an arm on his back. “It’s okay. I’m here. Just listen to me talk, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he gulped.

“Try to calm your breathing,” you instructed, “Deep breaths, Jason. In… out… In… Out… Yeah, see that’s great.”

“Yeah,” he breathed, now calmer. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you smiled warmly, “You’re doing just fine.”

“No, I’m not,” he strained, “I feel like everything is too big. Too vast. The fucking sky looks like it’s going to crash down on me and at the same time suck me up into a void.”

“And despite all you’re feeling right now, you’re not breaking down or anything, are you?” you tried, “You’re okay, Jason. This is progress.”

“I guess,” he sighed, “I’m just- I’m so used to having four walls and a ceiling. Now everything feels too big.”

“I understand,” you empathized, “Whenever you want to go back, just say the word. Or we can even just go and sit in the car. No problem.”

“Yeah, okay, let’s do that,” he stood up.

The walk back to the car was faster.

“Fuck, I’m so fucking pathetic,” he said, running his fingers through his hair.

“No, you’re not,” you reassured him, “That was great, Jason. Come on, it was your first time outside in two years and a half. Cut yourself some slack.”

“I’m so fucking broken,” he choked.

“Don’t say that,” you scolded, “You’re not broken. And you know what, even if you think you are, we can always fix it. Baby steps. Maybe we can do this once a week. We were out for like, ten minutes? Next week we’ll try fifteen. How’s that sound?”

“Twice a week,” he stated, “I just want to be normal again.”

“Okay, twice a week, then,” you agreed, “We’ll try again in a couple of days, okay?”

“Okay,” he paused, “Thank you.”

“No problemo,” you grinned, “Would you like to stay here a bit longer or shall we go back?”

“Let’s go back.”

“Wanna stop by the diner? You can wait in the car while I ask for a take-away?”

“...okay.”

***

Jason and you had gone out twice more. Once three days after the first time, and the other a week later. The second time he went out, he lasted twenty minutes, though you were sure he was being stubborn on his part. He looked like he was having a heart attack, but he insisted on staying until he hit the twenty minute mark.

The third time, he was much much better. Surprisingly so. The two of you sat down on that bench for half an hour, with you even leaving him alone for a few minutes to get two ice cream cones.

After that, you took him for a drive around the city. He seemed to be more comfortable in the car, so you went all the way from Robinson Park to Diamond District, and back to the manor.

Bruce seemed very pleased with your update, and you swore you could see him actually smile.

“Thank you,” he had told you. “You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you.”

“It’s no problem, Bruce. Really,” you reassured him.

“I’m his father. He is my responsibility. It’s my fault he’s even in that state. I wish I could do more for him,” he said solemnly.

“The fact that you understand what he needs is more than helpful, Bruce,” you smiled, “Not many parents can do that. You understand and respect him. That’s enough for now.”

He simply nodded.

Ever since your scheduled outings, Jason had become more and more relaxed whenever he was in the manor. He now walked to the kitchen on occasion to mess with Alfred while he cooked meals for him, sometimes sitting in the living room lounging on the couch while reading. Most of the time, though, he was down at the sparring zone of the Cave, working out.

But at night, he would never fail to knock on your door.

And at that particular night, you found yourself in the same situation again while lying down on your side with your back to his front, for the fifth time.

“You officially have to stop calling yourself broken,” you grumbled, “Because that thing poking into my ass is definitely not broken.”

He chuckled lowly. “You complaining, sweetheart?”

Oh, and yes. Jason now had started calling you ‘sweetheart’. Why? You had no clue. It was just a thing that happened. The look on your face when he first slipped it in was probably a sight to behold.

“No shit, I’m complaining, Jason,” you groaned, “You haven’t jerked off, yet? Not even once?”

“Nope,” he popped the P, “I just… I don’t want to… I don’t want to come.”

You sighed, understanding the situation. He had been disgusted with himself because he had ejaculated when Joker… Well, that. You hated to even think about it, so you always shoved the thought away.

“But unfortunately for me, I still get super horny,” he rumbled deeply, pushing his hips into you even more, “So fucking horny.”

“And then I have to suffer,” you complained.

“I can assure you, blue balls are more painful than something poking into you,” he bickered.

“It’s not that…”

“Then?”

“I get horny too, come on man,” you whined, “I’m a hormonal teenage girl. What did you expect?”

“You get horny too?” he whispered after a pause.

“Uh, yeah,” you admitted nervously. Somehow, the mood shifted, and your heart started drumming against your chest.

“Because of me?” he asked.

“Not you specifically, I mean,” you tried to back track, “You’re… Your dick pressing up against me like that, I mean, come on, Jason.”

“Simple question sweetheart,” he told you, “You get horny because of me, yes or no?”

You gulped. “Yes.”

Fuck, why did you say yes? You could have lied. You could have not answered.

“Yeah?” he breathed. You noticed that his hand was now on your hip, right above the waistband of your sleeping shorts, drawing circles onto your skin with his thumb.

You were nervous. The butterflies in your tummy was not helping you calm down.

“Yeah,” you squeezed your eyes shut, as if to protect yourself from anything he had to say.

“Fuck,” he groaned, gripping your hips and grinding his hard on against your ass even more. And did it… Fuck, did it get even harder?

Afraid of saying the wrong thing, and also out of nervousness, you remained silent. Jason’s chest rose and fall against your back, his respiratory rate increasing. His pinky finger slid underneath the waistband, testing the waters before slowly slipping his hand into your pants.

He went in so slowly, as if waiting for you to tell him no, to rip his hand away, to wrench yourself away from him. But you never did, so he went in deeper, caressing the skin beneath your pelvic bone, his heat just burning into you.

“You’re not wearing any underwear,” he commented, voice suddenly husky.

“I don’t wear them to bed,” you informed him.

“You mean to tell me,” he growled, “That all this while I’ve been sleeping next to you and you never had your panties on?”

“It’s more comfortable that way,” you mumbled.

“Jesus Christ,” he cursed. “Thank God I never knew. Would have been torture, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“Jason,” you gasped.

“It’s true,” he said, “Damn, sweetheart.”

He went lower, closer to your center.

Your core was tingly, small pulses of electricity buzzed through your body as Jason came closer and closer and closer and-

He slipped his hands between your closed thighs and cupped you.

“Mmm,” he moaned softly, “Warm. Fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy?” you laughed, even though you felt like screaming on the inside. Screaming for more.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, burying his face into your nape, taking a deep breath. “You smell nice.”

Oh, shit. You totally forgot about Jason’s aversion to strong smells.

“I’m sorry!” you quickly apologised, “I can switch to an unscented shampoo as well so it wouldn’t be too strong for you.”

“It’s fine,” he said, “I like it on you.”

He ground his hand into your center harder.

“Mmpf, Jay,” you breathed, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “I’ve never touched a girl like this before.”

“Really?” you widen your eyes in surprise.

“I was kept in a cell for two years, I couldn’t exactly talk, let alone touch, anyone can I?” he quipped.

“Right.”

“Teach me,” he said.

“What?” you whispered despite knowing what he meant.

A pause of silence. A deep intake of breath, a slow exhale.

“Teach me how to touch you,” he purred.

Fuck, you felt like exploding.

“Are you sure?” you asked.

“Yes. If you… If you want to.”

Your mind quickly tried to analyse the situation. Bruce had specifically said that Jason didn’t need any complicated matters in the relationship. It made sense. You didn’t want to overwhelm Jason with any confusion or uncertainty.

But at the same time, you’ve been figuring out how Jason thought, bit by bit. He’s told you many times that he just wanted to be normal again, to feel normal, to do normal things. And this was something that was normal, that he should do, that he wanted to do.

And you knew that he probably would take the rejection even worse.

“O-Okay,” you agreed.

Slowly, you separated your thighs, raising the one on top and hooking it over his legs behind you. Due to your shift in position, you felt the minute Jason’s fingers dip slightly into your folds.

“So, uh, this is my first time with a guy as well,” you squeaked, “But I’ll try to guide you.”

You licked your lips.

“Uhm, well, I guess you can start by running a finger up and down between my- oh! Yes, just like that.”

His middle finger slid down to your opening, and then up again slowly. His movements were uncertain, brushing only slightly against your clit unintentionally.

It was different, having someone else touch you. Somehow, despite the inexperience, it just felt better.

“Holy fuck,” he gasped, “You’re so fucking wet. Do you usually get this wet?”

You felt your cheeks heat up. “No? Yes? I don’t know! I can’t feel it.”

“Shit.”

You let him play with you some more, his fingers sliding up and down, sometimes pressing against your fleshy parts, sometimes circling and gathering your wetness, sometimes just parting your lips. Hell, he even tapped the tips of his fingers on you randomly or brushed into your delicate fuzz. You knew he was just exploring, feeling you for the first time.

And that thought made you smile and sigh.

“Teach me how to make you feel good,” he rasped.

“Uh, so your fingers are wet, right?”

“Yeah. Because you’re leaking all over them.”

“Okay, good. Now find my clit. It’s slightly above your finger, okay, to the left a bit. More. Okay, there! Yeah, right there,” you sighed, finally feeling that delicious pressure.

“Here?”

He tapped your clit.

“Ah!” you moaned, “Yes- but don’t just- nevermind, just gently circle it. Clockwise.”

He obeyed, and hell since when did Jason just obey?

He circled you gently, like you said. But he also went so, so slow.

“Faster, Jay,” you panted.

He went faster, making you groan in pleasure.

“Like this, sweetheart?” he muttered, his voice low and cracking, and sexy, and husky. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and it drove you wild.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “Yeah, just like that. Fuck.”

“Feel good?”

“So good, Jay. Press a little harder now- fuck. Fuck. Yes, perfect. Just like that.”

The pressure built as his fingers did their magic.

“You- you’re surprisingly good at that,” you stuttered, “You sure- mmm- you sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Despite what you think,” he husked in your ear, warm breath tickling you. “I’m very good at following instructions.”

“I can see that.”

“But I’m also good at improvising.”

“Wha- oh. Oh. Fuck! Jason! Oh my fucking god!”

He started pressing even harder, and going even faster, throwing away the slow build you were going for and instead pushing you towards orgasm fast and hard, as if he was determined to prove something to you.

“Feel good, sweetheart?” he purred, “You gonna come soon?”

“Oh my- fuck, yes! Fuck, don’t stop!”

“You want to come for me?” his deep voice rumbled.

“Yes!”

What the hell? When did he learn how to talk like that?

Because with the mix of his heavy pants, his low voice coaxing you, his barrage of pleasure at your clit, you felt the familiar tightening of your core. You threw one hand back and found his hair. Running your fingers through them, you gripped them tight and pulled.

You pulled on his hair as he forced the orgasm onto you.

“Oh my God. Jason, I’m gonna- fuck- I’m- fuck- ah!”

You moaned loudly as you felt your walls flutter, clenching over nothing as you reached your high.

“O-okay, stop, fuck,” your hand went from his hair to his wrist, stilling him. He withdrew his hands from your pants, and went to grip you tight again by the waist.

“Fucking hell, sweetheart,” he groaned, grinding into you. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hardened length against your flesh in your post-orgasm bliss. “Jesus, that was so hot.”

“That was- yeah,” you giggled, “Fuck.”

His face was still buried in your neck. You could feel his lips on your skin.

“Uhm, I can, you know,” you sputtered, “Try to help you out?”

“It’s fine,” he breathed, body still tight against yours, “Just go to sleep.”

“Are you sure?” you asked again, feeling guilty that he didn’t get off. “I don’t mind.”

“I do,” he said, “It’s okay, sweetheart. That was great. I enjoyed that. I told you, I don’t want to come.”

“Okay,” you sighed.

“Go to bed.”

“Thank you, Jason.”

“Fuck, I’m so horny.”

“Jason,” you whined, “Really, I can help-”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, “Goodnight.”

You pursed your lips.

“Goodnight.”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood #robin #jason todd imagine #dont call me that

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myspaceshipisbig · 4 years

Text

Tag 9 people you want to know better/catch up with

I was tagged by @littleduck46

Last song: Stay Frosty Royal Milk Tea - Fall Out Boy (because sometimes you HAVE to go back to those bands you listened to when you were still young (im getting old..))

Last film: This is England (had to search for this, because i rarely watch films)

Currently watching: pick your choice because its a wild ride, supernatural, star trek discovery, star trek ds9, its ok not to be ok, preacher... are the ones that come to mind.. i jump between series like a madman. Because my attentionspan is short and cant really binge more than like.. 2h at a time.

Reading: apart from fics i have a book ive read a few chapters in, have a lot of those, but the latest one i put down is called 'Gather the daughters' by Jenny Melamed read like.. two chapters if even that. So dont quote me on that one.

Craving: well.. seeing as its not even 10am yet here, nothing, possibly salt.. and maybe bread. Havent figured it out yet.

Sooo.. simply because i know basically no one on this site and im too much of a coward to actually tag someone ill leave it up to you really...

Cheers and all that, have a good one.

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ao3feed-bnha-rarepair · 4 years

Text

We'll Do It Together

We'll Do It Together by CheesecakeQueen

Sero Hanta will become a hero to protect his family.

Iida Tenya will become a hero to honor his family.

Both find unexpected friends at UA.

And they find one another.

Now they have to make a choice-- one another or their friends.

Romeo and Juliet inspired (kinda) Seroiida story based on this Tumblr post by literallyglitchn

I just loved the concept so much that I had to write it

Words: 72611, Chapters: 20/?, Language: English

Series: Part 1 of Seriida! Iisero! Nyoomtape!

Fandoms: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: Iida Tenya, Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Sero Hanta, Sero Hanta's Mother, Iida Tenya's Mother, Original Child Character(s), they're sero's siblings, Midoriya Izuku, Uraraka Ochako, Todoroki Shouto, Asui Tsuyu, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima Eijirou, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Jirou Kyouka, Yaoyorozu Momo, League of Villains, Kurogiri, Akaguro Chizome | Stain, Dabi, Toga Himiko, Shigaraki Tomura | Shimura Tenko, Sensei | All For One, Bubaigawara Jin | Twice, Iguchi Shuuichi | Spinner, Mustard, Moonfish, Nomu, Thirteen, Shuuzenji Chiyo | Recovery Girl, omg how could i forget ab you rg, youre wonderful, how could i do this - Character, Class 1-A, Class 1-B, Shinsou Hitoshi, not a lot of him tho

Relationships: Iida Tenya/Sero Hanta, Iida Tensei | Ingenium & Iida Tenya, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Jirou Kyouka & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto & Uraraka Ochako, Asui Tsuyu & Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku & Todoroki Shouto & Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya & Midoriya Izuku, Iida Tenya & Uraraka Ochako, Iida Tenya & Todoroki Shouto, Asui Tsuyu & Iida Tenya, Iida Tensei | Ingenium & Iida Tenya & Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Iida Tenya & Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina & Sero Hanta, Bakugou Katsuki & Sero Hanta, Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Jirou Kyouka & Sero Hanta, Kaminari Denki & Sero Hanta, Iida Tensei | Ingenium & Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead/Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou, Jirou Kyouka/Yaoyorozu Momo, Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto, Asui Tsuyu/Uraraka Ochako, Sero Hanta & Original Character(s), theyre his siblings, Class 1-A & Sero Hanta, Class 1-A & Iida Tenya, Iida Tenya & Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, auntie midnight for the winnnnn, seros loved ones / pain and suffering

Additional Tags: Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Falling In Love, Bakusquad, Protective Bakusquad, Supportive Bakusquad, But thats later, Jirou Kyouka is in the Bakusquad, Sero Hanta is a Good Friend, Sero Hanta is a Dork, BAMF Iida Tenya, BAMF Sero Hanta, why isn't that a tag, Iida Tenya is a Good Friend, POV Iida Tenya, POV Sero Hanta, its third person but we get their thoughts, Protective Iida Tenya, Protective Sero Hanta, Dekusquad, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags Are Hard, Pansexual Character, Pansexual Sero Hanta, Asexual Iida Tenya, Asexual Character, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Aizawa Shouta & Iida Tensei & Kayama Nemuri & Yamada Hizashi Friendship, Good Sibling Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Good Older Sibling Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Secret Relationship, panromantic character, In a way, I saw people head cannoning sero as ace/panromantic and I love, I wanted to make iida Demi but it didn't fit with the timeline so I had to cut it, but him being Demi is my headcanon, I just can't put it in this fic, ill probably put it in a different one though, I have an idea stewing in the back of my head, nyoomtape, seroiida, iisero, seriida, Fluff and Angst, angst is way later tho, Angst, Fluff, I make midoriya a bit of a coward at times sooo, Out of Character, sometimes, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Happy Ending, Angst with a Happy Ending, thats down the line tho, First Dates, First Kiss, I can't wait to write that uwu, sero and jiro are great, the chill bros of the bakusquad, sero and Baku just judge everyone silently, Mutual Pining, for only a few chapters tho, bc then the pining becomes dating, Pining Iida Tenya, Pining Sero Hanta, Kinda, Rarepair, Idiots in Love, but not like complete idiots, more like 40 percent idiots, yeah thats better, erasermic, kiribaku, tododeku - Freeform, Tsuchako, no beta we die like men, Dorks in Love, oops! all seriida, Pining, Oblivious, oblivious bakusquad, oblivious izucrew, Healthy Relationships, theyre just dum dums in love, Unforeseen Simulation Joint Arc, Post-Unforeseen Simulation Joint Arc, Hero Killer Stain Arc, Post-Hero Killer Stain Arc, Sero Hanta Needs a Hug, Iida Tenya Needs a Hug, Sero Hanta is a Little Shit, Kaminari Denki & Sero Hanta Friendship, sero im sorry, im so so sorry, Hospitals, this is mha you cant avoid hospitals, sero has siblings, lots of them - Freeform, the big brother energy is strong with this one, welcome to rarepair hell, Nonbinary Thirteen, Aunt Kayama Nemuri | Midnight, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Iida Tenya is a Little Shit, Iida Tenya is a Dork, Iida Tenya is a Nerd, Scars, Protective Siblings, Brother-Sister Relationships, Brotherly Love, Brother Feels, Big Brother Sero, seros siblings are BLESSINGS, theyre all little angels, except for one, but thats okay shes just a spunky little kiddo trying her best, she still loves her fam dont worry, Hispanic Character, Hispanic Sero Hanta, Insecure Sero Hanta, the baby needs a hug, hes just trying his best, but he doesnt think his best is enough, :(, i just made myself sad, Protectiveness, Protective Iida Tensei | Ingenium, Boys Kissing, Boys In Love, Sero Hanta-centric, Iida Tenya-centric, Self-Esteem Issues, Internalized Homophobia, Homophobia, Bad Parenting, iida im sorry, Absent Parents, Emotional, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, good parenting, all of the seros are wonderful, every last one of them, esp the parents, blessings from god, Bakusquad Shenanigans, Bakusquad vs. Dekusquad Rivalry, Protective Dekusquad, Supportive Class 1-A, Everyone Is Gay, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, jiro and sero are best buds, Male-Female Friendship, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Communication Failure

Read Here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24970516

#AO3 Feed #FanFiction #AO3 Seroiida #♥#Seroiida #📦#💨#⚣#R:T #W:V #A:Cheesecake #Medical AU #Abuse #Hurt Comfort #Fluff #Angst

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ravens-rambling · 6 years

Text

It’s time Thomas stops running

A/N: Hey so I got inspired randomly and wrote this. I’m not even sure if this is cannonly how it went down in the au but I was thinking of Spiderverse’s Peter and how he was scared to have kids with MJ, so he ran. Again not sure if this is something Thomas would actually do or not but idk. Also, I just realized this is my first fic with the perspective of Thomas! Would you look at that! Hopefully, I got MJ’s character right XD

Spiderverse Au belongs to @sugarglider9603 and @ask-spiderverse-virgil

summary: Thomas ran. He's run before and now he’s doing it again. He can’t help it, but last time...last time it ended a friendship. A relationship. And now he’s worried that once again he’ll ruin it. Can one of his sons calm him down enough to face his fears? Or will he run until he can’t run anymore... and find that once again he is alone?

WC: 2,49

ships: uuhhh idk what the ship name for Thomas and MJ is so yeah, Platonic LAMP, mentions of RED

warnings: Crying, hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety attacks, mentions of breakup,

Tag List: @punsterterry @frostedlover @stormcrawler75 @mutechild @mycatshuman @panicattheeverywhere15 @thewinterbookqueen @analogical-mess @saddestlittlebabe

Oh, he screwed up, he screwed up badly. Now he’s screwed up a lot of things in his life. Let’s…not go down that gigantic list. The point is right here, right now, he messed up. And he’s not sure if he can fix it this time.

It’s been an issue for a while now if he had to be honest. It’s why his previous boyfriend broke up with him really. But recently it was brought up again and he’s not ready to face it yet again. He’s just not. Sure he has more of a support group going for him this time. But that just means there is more on the line.

More to be scared about. More to worry.

What is the thing he’s oh so worried about?

MJ wants to have a kid.

Now, now, he knows what you’re thinking. Oh, won’t that be good? That would mean taking it to the next step right? MJ loves you that much that he wants to share the love you two have.

That’s not the point.

The point is…is that he’s Spiderman. He’s a hero.

Which means he has a lot of villains that would love to hurt him and anybody he cares about. Also…hes not sure he’s ready for that.

If he had to be honest with himself…he's scared. Scared that he won’t make a good father. Scared that he screwed it up and hurts the kid or MJ, even more than he has right now of course. Scared that this kid would be dragged into his problems. Scared for so so many things.

He’s not sure he can take that on.

Now, of course, he does have well, sort of, four kids now. But he’s trained them well they know how to handle themselves if push comes to shove. But this kid? This kid would be defenseless. This kid won’t know anything about defending itself. MJ, on the other hand, …well he’s MJ he knows full well how to take care of himself. But would he be able to defend their kid if something happens and he can’t get there in time?

He’s not sure…

Now he is not doubting MJ at all. He is strong. Stronger than Thomas could ever dream of being. He has dealt with so much over his life that it puts Thomas’s life to shame. That’s not his worry his worry is the fact that his enemies are supervillains which means they have powers.

No matter how strong MJ is he isn’t superpowered strong.

And heaven forbid if something happens to MJ and their kid? Oh… He doesn’t know if he can take it. It would crush him. Worse than losing the kiddos. Worse than losing himself. He just…can't do that. He can’t risk that.

So what did he do? He ran.

Just like the last time this happened. He ran with his tail between his legs and didn’t look back.

Go on you can say it, he knows it, he’s a coward. A coward that is too scared to face the music. A coward who always runs. A coward who can’t even face his emotions. All he does is run. Run from bad guys. Run from love. Run from a slim chance at a happy life for him. Run from a family.

The last guy he was with…didn’t like that. He didn’t like that he ran and kept running. No… He got tired eventually and kissed their relationship goodbye.

That’s what’s gonna happen with the two right? MJ will realize he is tired of running after him, tired of making sacrifices for a guy that’s not worth the trouble, and finally, move on. Maybe it’s for the best… Maybe…this love thing won’t work out, in the end, no matter what he does…

Yeah… Maybe not…

Thomas glanced down to his phone with another sigh, the same ringtone he has for MJ filling the night air. He breathed out as he ran a hand through his hair and looked back out to the city lights, ignoring it.

Eventually, he’ll get tired of chasing after him…

Eventually-

“There you are.”

With dark, tired, almost teary eyes he looked over his shoulder to see the familiar figure of a white dressed teen with his hoodie up… Virgil…

Maybe he’ll get tired of him eventually too, right?

Maybe he’ll realize he isn’t such a good mentor or dad figure… Maybe they all will realize that someday. Cause that’s what he is… A disappointment.

“Dude? Dude, Earth to Thomas.”

Thomas jumped as he blinked and suddenly Virgil was a lot closer than before but he still kept his distance, thankfully. Slowly Virgil smiled and walked closer to him, and even more slowly took a seat beside him his feet dangling off the edge.

And with that, he took off his mask letting the hood fall down and looked over to Thomas with a small smile his hair all over the place and a worried look in his dark brown eyes, “What’s up, dad? MJ is pretty worried after you stormed off. Well, actually that’s an understatement more like frantically calling between all our phones and yelling our ears off when we pick up.”

His heart pricked with worry and anger at himself at hearing how frantic MJ is. He’s never like that even when he isn’t home after a few nights…

Yeah… A runner…

“It’s just…” He sighed and looked back towards the city breathing in and out. Virgil was silent as he gathered up his thoughts. Thankfully he didn’t look at him as he did so simply looking out at the city as well. They sat there for a few minutes enjoying the silence. Until Thomas broke it again.

“You know I love you guys right?”

“Yeah? Like kids yes we know.”

“Do… Do you know why I broke it off with my last boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t good enough for you?”

“No… No that wasn’t it… Not at all…”

He took a shaky breath. Guess he’ll have to actually say it. He’s never really talked about this, not to a single soul…

“The reason was…he wanted to have kids… A-And I got scared. I got scared cause I knew the risks and I wasn’t ready. I’m still not…”

“And MJ wanted that? To have kids?”

“Yeah… That’s what he wanted to talk about. He thought we could adopt. Even showed me some pictures of these cute kids from that nice orphanage but it just… I’m still not ready, Virgil. I don’t think I’ll ever be. And that’s not fair for MJ. He deserves better he deserves-”

“Now I’m gonna stop you right there, dad.”

The serious tone of the teen made Thomas whip towards him. He’s never heard Virgil this serious before. And oh boy the spark that went through the kid's eyes. Yep, he’s deadly serious.

“First off, self-deprecation is my thing. Don’t go stealing my thing. Second off, this is MJ. He will understand more than you know trust me, okay? He’s not like the last guy. If you are serious about never wanting kids MJ will never leave you just for that, you got it? MJ isn’t like that and never will be. Third off, who says you won’t be a good dad? I mean you have four teens right? And yes,” He cut off Thomas as he opened his mouth, “with you being a superhero and everything there are even more risks. But honestly… Thomas,” His eyes grew teary at this one and he breathed out.

“You are the best dad anybody can ask for. You are the best boyfriend anybody can ask for. Most importantly,” He paused at this and smiled reaching forward to touch Thomas’s leg, “You are the best friend anybody could ask for.”

Oh… Oh dear…

Before Thomas could even help it or realize what he was doing he started crying hard. Tears tore down his cheeks. And before he could stop himself he lunged at Virgil his arms wrapping around the thin male as he sobbed harshly.

“There, there dad. It’s gonna be alright. Oh and I forgot to mention, this kid, they won’t have just you and MJ protecting them. They will have all four of us, I’m sure even Dolion, Remy, and Emile, will be on their asses if they so much as touch your kid. Understand?”

That made Thomas cry even harder. All his fears all his worries Virgil just presented on the table and he cleared through every one of them. He didn’t know where his son got so intelligent but oh boy was it something. Even he was impressed…

Yeah… He was impressed with his son.

They spent what felt like hours up on that tall building the background of the city and his cries the only thing that filled the air. Virgil holding him the entire time even rocking them gently and playing with Thomas' hair to ground him… Just like what he does during one of Virgil’s attacks…

Until finally his sobs quieted down until it was just hiccups. Very slowly he started breathing back to his normal self again.

“You okay there?”

“Y-Yeah… Sorry for crying on you.”

“Hey, 'tis payback for all the times I’ve cried on you. So we’re good now.”

Thomas chuckled as he drew away from their hug grimacing as he saw all the tears and snot on Virgil’s outfit, “Sorry about that. I’ll do the laundry this time.”

Virgil looked down and chuckled waving his hand, “No, it’s fine dad. I’m serious. Also, your laundry detergent isn’t very good anyways. I’ll take at least three loads to get this out if I leave it to you.”

“Yep… Sounds about right,” He laughed as he wiped his eyes then sighed again.

“Thank you, Virge… For all of that… It meant a lot to me.”

“Yeah, sure whatever. Don’t tell Roman I got all sentimental I’ll never hear the end of it. Now,” He put back on his mask as he stood up. Thomas glanced up to see him extending a hand and though he couldn’t see his lips he could tell he was smiling.

With his own smile, he took it and stood up.

“You have a boyfriend to talk to,” And with that, he did his signature two-fingered wave and ran off the side of the building. Thomas watched as he slingshotted through the night air.

He supposes he does…

With new found energy in his eyes, he put on his mask and started making his way towards MJ's place. Though before he does he's got to make one detour…

Once he got to his door he breathed out a nervous breath. Would MJ be angry at him for just leaving quickly like that? Would he forgive him for just bailing? Oh, maybe this was a mistake… Maybe-

The door opened and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the familiar orange curls and his freckled face, though his heart stopped for a completely other reason when he saw the tear stains going down that same freckled cheeks.

“Thomas! Oh god. I was so worried,” And before Thomas could even take a breath again he was practically tackled to the floor in a hug and his eyes pricked with tears once again, “Don’t ever do that again! I thought you were mad at me! Or worse that you got hurt somewhere since you weren’t answering any of our calls. Oh god were you hurt? Please tell me you weren’t hurt. Oh god-”

“MJ. MJ, I’m fine I promise,” Thomas chuckled.

“Good… Okay… You don’t look like your injured… Yeah…” Now he was backing up from the hug tears still coming down. Then he huffed and smacked his arm playfully and gently.

“Ow! What was that for?”

“For making me worry you selfish little prick! I thought you were angry at me and never coming back. God… Thomas, I thought I would never see you again…”

And if that didn’t break Thomas' heart he didn’t know what would. He felt like his heart was bleeding as he gulped.

“Well… Virgil helped me… And… We have something to discuss… Well, a lot of things but first…” He showed the huge flower bouquet that was hidden behind his back, it was covered with different colors of roses. All the colors of the rainbow. He smiled as he waited for the others reaction as he mumbled, “This is for making you worried. I’m sorry.”

MJ gasped loudly and started crying even harder which caused Thomas to suddenly get worried all over again.

“No, wait! You're not supposed to cry! Why are you crying? Do you not like it? I can return it! I just thought-”

“Shut up you gay disaster and kiss me.”

“Wait what-”

Before he could finish his sentence lips smacked against his with a loud thud noise. Thomas slowly closed his eyes as he wrapped his arms around MJs waist. They leaned into each other as the kiss ticked by. And slowly all the tension and nervousness that engulfed Thomas bones just a moment ago evaporated just like that. MJ wasn’t mad with him.

He came chasing after him…

And just as soon as the kiss started it ended and they both looked at each other their eyes sparkling with energy for each other. And they smiled and giggled.

“Okay, pretty boy get inside so we can talk and so I can put these roses in a vase. I’m sure the neighbors would love to hear more of our little conversation.”

“Yeah… That sounds lovely.”

With that MJ took Thomas free hand and led him inside. They certainly did have a lot to talk about, but Thomas wasn’t as scared or worried about it as before. He felt a certain calm through his body as he stepped into the house and closed the door.

Yeah...He's not running again.

“Did he go in?”

“Yes, Roman, he went in.”

“He did? Yay! I was so worried about him.”

“Yes, Pat you won’t shut up about it. Can we please get out of this bush now? Roman, you are on top of me.”

“Oh, hush nerd. You complain too much.”

“Now now boys don’t argue. Yes, Lo-Lo we can leave now.”

“Thank god.”

As the two teens left one grumbling while the other yelled at him the pastel wearing teen paused in his tracks.

“Virge?”

“Yeah?”

“Nice work. I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, Pat.”

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roseamongroses · 5 years

Text

Antithesis: (1) “cracks knuckles its time to get educated fools”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri.

He's hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn't like he's complaining. Dmitri's cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.--Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content, implied emotional abuse, Cursing [Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men [Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana)

(1) (2)

R: hey this is Roman[star] [crown] [star]

R: what do you have in mind for the project??

---

As simple as that text was, according to his very reliable memory, it took him exactly an entire decade to work up the nerve to send that. And he was not a coward mind you- reasonably afraid of sudden movements, sure, but no damn coward. He made sure to inherit the fight gene when he was in the womb with Virgil, around the same time he graciously decided not to absorb the little shit.

As if to further emphasis the magnitude of his fetal sacrifice, Virgil gulped down the rest of the milk. Straight from the pint. Just as Roman poured his cereal.

Virgil raised an eyebrow, “What’s got you all riled up prin-cy?” he tossed the pint. Even though Mom wasn’t there to rag on him for being an absolute heathen, she could still do so later if he left behind evidence.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He ate his cereal dry, carefully avoiding Virgil’s scrutiny.

“Oh--” Virgil choked, “Oh shit, what did you do.”

“Excuse me,”Roman squawked, “I did nothing, you here? I am a good child.”

“Fuckface,”

“We have the same face,”

“Fuckface,” Virgil flicked his dyed purple, and regularly straightened hair for emphasis, “Last time you didn’t actively shout your problems, we found several stray cats in your room--and then there's the time you lit grandpa’s shed on fire with your self care candles and then there was the homecoming incident of fres-”

“--Ok,” Roman interrupted, “--wow Virgil, drag up my entire hero’s journey while you’re at it,” he pouted, “It’s no big deal, really.”

“When the hero’s journey could make a convincing argument in a court of law that you’re unreasonably fire-prone, then yes it's a big deal Ro, spill.”

“I’m just a little,” understatement, “Overwhelmed, by our junior project--” It's definitely not the project, definately definately, definitely not the project.

“That thing?” Virgil frowned, confused, “Me n’ L, going down to the space-station to do interviews, and a couple of presentations, what's going on in the art department?”

“Fuckin’ nerds,” Roman snorted, stabbing his cereal again, “Pat jus’ had to switch last minute to help the new kid out, so Dee and I got paired together and he--”Roman looked up,suddenly very aware of how Virgil’s normally slouched position became deathly straight, face calm, “Uh...Virge…?”

Roman feels like he forgot something important.

Virgil smiled, “What did that snake-fucker Dmitri do?”

Bingo, that’s what he forgot.

It wasn’t like Virgil’s thing with Dee was something that could be traced back to one particular incident, more like a culmination of the two being forced into being in each others general vicinity when they did not in fact want that company.

Roman avoided that drama, mainly because Virgil and him could hardly stand each other at the time either. So most of what he knows is second hand.

Though Virgil has explained it as, “When he opens his mouth, my flight or fight response is activated.” and as far as Roman knows Dmitri just returned the sentiment.

Roman shoved another spoonful of cereal in his mouth, “Chill, it’s Nothing, really, just, he said something that caught me off guard, that’s all.”

Virgil’s eyes narrowed, “If he does it again, tell me,” he said, “Logan says I can restart the prank war with probable cause.”

Roman shrugged,“-Kay” he said

He will most certainly not.

---

D:Sanders? from 3rd block?

R: ye who else would i be??? where is this other roman???

D:Who knows? How do I know you’re not Virgil w/ Roman’s phone?

R: //gasp// i am no fake.

D: Proof?

R:[Picture: Roman’s knees are pulled to his chest, him pouting at the camera.

His hair dyed aubrun and thrown into a messy bun, paint and freckles littering his brown skin]

[ThatOneGuyThatVirgilHates <3’s a picture]

D: Oh thank god you are the cute one

---

[out of the way fives]

Hotleg: so.

Sipsipsippin: dammit roman.

Hotleg: i didnt even say anything how dare

Sipsipsippin:hon, i dated you, i know.

Hotleg: we made out like once

Sipsipsippin: i know.

Hotleg: it was like, eigth grade

Sipsipsipin: i k n o w

Hotleg: ok, ok wise and powerful, remington. Guess who it is, bitch.

Sipsipsippin: ill bite

Sipsipsippin: logan?

Hotleg:....

Hotleg: id say ew, but,,,im not entirely agnst that, ,,, i

Hotleg: nope no, it is not infact logan

Sipsipsippin: FUCK i owe pat a five

Hotleg:????betrayl??????in my sanctum????

Sipsipsippin: shh, i did not type that and you saw nothing

Sipsipsippin: gah give me a hint

Hotleg: hes,,,, good with his hands ;)

----

Remy slammed his hands down the table, “Roman you filthy animal tell me who it is.”

A few people nearby looked up, startled, but not entirely surprised. Patton still winced, pointedly looking at his book and pretending like he didn’t know these actual public disturbances but didn’t bother to move. Which is hard to do regardless, when one Roman has made your shoulder his home.

“Sorry can’t speak english,” Roman said, exaggerating his drawl. He picked off of the leftovers on Patton’s plate, avoiding the daggers being driven into him from behind Remy’s tinted frames.

“Patton, do you know?” Remy asked.

Patton frowned, “Know what?” He flipped a page.

“Our wittle Roman’s got a cwush.” Remy slid into a chair, grabbing a fry.

Patton tilted his head, giving Roman a smile, “A crush you say?”

“Shit.” Roman moved to scramble out of his seat, but Patton somehow managed to put down his book, and fit his arm snug around his waist, tugging him lightly back down.

“Pattonnnn,” He whined, “This is an abuse of my need for affection.”

“Poor baby boy,” Patton hummed, “So, about this crush.”

“C’mon Pat, it could just be a squish,”

“Ro, do you find all your squishies that attractive?” Remy said.

“I find all of my friends aesthetically pleasing, I love you all, lots. I would kill for all of you without hesitation.” Patton rested his chin on Roman’s head, “Did he talk about their hands?” he asked pointedly.

“He wrote poetry.”

“Not to romo,” Patton said, “but yeah it’s a Roman Crush™.”

“I just said how much I loved you guys and this is the betrayal I receive? I thought y’all were the Evagiline to my Ray- instead you’re the animation industry to my animators.”

“Bitch, you bugged me all last week about the same shit,” Remy shot back, lovingly, “Karma’s here, so tell me his name or I’m stealing your toenails and feeding them to your first born.” He sipped his drink, face victorious.

Mid gasp, Roman felt Patton’s grip around his waist tighten. He turned around curiously finding Patton’s attention no longer at the table.

Roman followed his line of sight, blinking, “Dmitri?”

“You have a crush on D--fuck,” Remy hissed, rubbing where Roman’s heel dug into his thigh.

“Sorry can’t hear you,” Roman gritted through his teeth, “--call again after the beep bi-Hi Dee!”

Patton leaned back in his chair, picking up his book again but had yet to remove his arm.

Dmitri shifted the tray in his hands, “Uh, hey,” he smiled, “Can I talk to you?” His hair was down today, the short bob barely falling past his shoulders, but his clothes were noticeably covered paint, yet frustratingly enough other than that, nothing seemed ruffled or half assed. All clean lines and angles.

“What about?” Roman’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah,” Remy chimed, waggling his eyebrows, “What abou-oW.”

Dmitri ignored that, “Can I talk to you,” He glanced at Patton, “Privately,” he emphasised, “I found some old art magazines and projects in the library storage room, Mrs. Ider said we can check it out.”

“Uh, okay,” Roman nodded dumbly. He hopped up, snagging a fry before he followed Dmitri.

Walking down the long stretch of hallway, Roman found himself checking his watch several times- something he hardly ever does. Yet, the uncomfortable silence lingered, with only Dmitri’s avoident gazes and the clicks of Roman’s boots to fill the silence.

Lucky for Roman, his tendency for avoidance was relatively short on supply.

“Did I do something wrong?” Roman forced himself not to wince at how needy he sounded.

Dmitri opened the door for him, blinking, “Of course--” his voice dropped to a a whisper as the entered, “Of course not, why do you say so?”

“You seem different?”

“We’ve hardly talked before, aside from text.” Dmitri reasoned, tone awfully similar to when Logan’s trying to justify consuming an entire jar of Crofters in one sitting.

“Dee,” Roman said, raising an eyebrow, “That’s true, but you’re hardly one to get… nervous,” he said, “I’ve heard enough stories from Virgil alone to know.”

Dee froze, neither smiling or frowning, “What… type of stories.” His cheeks were delightfully pinched pink. “Tell me what I did wrong and--” Roman switched on the light to the libraries storage room, hiding a wicked smile as he glanced back, “And I’ll tell you some of my favorites.”

“Just wonderful,” Dmitri muttered, stepping inside as well, “But truthfully you did nothing wrong, I just don’t quite know how to do apologies.”

“Same,” Roman said, “Where are the ‘zines?” he distractedly asked, dragging the step ladder from behind the door.

“Back, left shelf,” Dmitri replied. He steadied the step ladder as Roman climbed up searching the dusty shelves. “What were you trying to not apologize for?” Roman asked, dropping magazines to the floor beside him.

“The...flirting?”

“Oh just the flirting?” he paused, holding a magazine to his chest, “Oh.” he repeated, now breathless. Dmitri looked way, ”Yeah, it didn’t mean anything, sorry,” he said, “I didn’t know you had a boyfriend, I swear I’m usually only a little sleazy.”

“So,” Roman dropped the next magazine, ”It was a joke.” He said a bit quieter, the magazine slapped the ground with more force.

“So is everything cool or…?”

“Uh,” Roman breathed in, blinking rapidly, “Uh, yeah it's all-- Wait, did you say boyfriend?”

“Yes...Is he not?”

“Who, who would--Oh. Oh, No, Patton isn’t--” Roman’s shoulders sagged, “We’re just friends.”

Roman stepped down from the ladder and was met with Dmitri’s look of skepticism.

“Oh, then I meant every word.” Dmitri said, all too casually, “Are you always so touchy with your friends?” he questioned, voice softer.

“Only if they want to.” Roman shrugged, “What do you and your friends do?”

“I don’t have… that many,” Dmitri admitted with a shrug of his own, the two of them hefting up their own pile of magazines, “And the ones I do would probably punch me if I tried anything like that.”

“Do you want to be able to do that?” Roman questioned, tugging open the door with ease, holding it open for Dmitri with his back. Dmitri was quiet, the two settling the stacks onto a table.

“Hey you don’t have to answer it’s really no pressu--”

“No it's fine,” Dmitri said, hugging his arms, “I’d… think I would, but I doubt any of my friends would want to…” His nose curled, “They’d tell me to piss off and get a girlfriend,”

“Well,” Roman said, “I’m your friend, and I’m certainly not going to promote the heterosexual agenda, unless that’s your thing, so I guess the awful duty of cuddles befalls on me,” He winked.

Dmitri looked at him again, “...I guess it does.”

Ao3

#Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Sanders Sides #Sanders Sides Fanfiction #Virgil Sanders #Remy Sanders #Patton Sanders #Deceit's name is Dmitri #Sympathetic Deceit #Roceit #Romantic Roceit #Multichaptered #Antithesis #Crossposted

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wistfulcynic · 6 years

Text

Another Brick In The Wall: Chapter 8

a/n: Effusive thanks to @hollyethecurious for the artwork! I love it so much! Thanks also to everyone for reading, commenting, kudos-ing, and reblogging! I'm so pleased by the way people have been engaging with this story. Love you all xxx

Summary: Emma Swan, sheriff’s daughter, mayor’s niece, quarterback’s girlfriend, is the undisputed princess of Storybrooke High. She is smart and confident and used to getting what she wants. What she wants is Killian Jones, the new boy in school. But Killian is not easily manipulated, and reluctant to allow the dark secrets in his past to touch the girl he is rapidly falling in love with.

Rating: T

Tags for: @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615 and @resident-of-storybrooke

Chapter 8:

Killian was out of school for a week, for a “mental health break” he called it with a chuckle, apparently a term he’d gotten from Dr Hopper. He saw the psychiatrist daily during this break and spent the rest of his time at the harbour with Liam, working on their boat, reading, playing his guitar, and talking with his brother about everything that had happened.

“We’ve hashed it all out in excruciating detail,” he told Emma as they sat together in the boat’s cabin, she working on her college essays while he practiced a new song. “It’s such a relief to be able to really talk to Liam again. There was a time when we had no secrets between us. He showed me all the information he had collected on Milah and her situation. Apparently her divorce is almost finalised and next month she’s starting a job teaching English in Japan.” He smiled. “She’ll like that, a chance to travel. What she always wanted.”

“Hmmmph,” said Emma, glaring at the screen of her laptop as she typed rapidly.

“Swan,” he admonished, giving her a mock scowl as he strummed a chord at her.

Emma slammed her hands down on the keyboard. “Killian, I just don’t know how you can be so forgiving after what she did to you.”

He set the guitar aside and his expression became serious. “I have to be, don’t you see?” he asked, looking at her intently. “I can’t hold on to my anger or it will eat me alive. I didn’t even realise how angry I was until Dr Hopper helped me see it, and how by not acknowledging it, allowing myself to feel it, and then letting it go, I was only hurting myself. Besides, I did genuinely care about Milah, and I’m glad she’s finally in a place where she can be happy.”

“Hmmmmph.” Emma concentrated on deleting the gibberish she’d produced by her attack on the keyboard.

“A place that doesn’t include me,” said Killian brightly, picking up the guitar again and plucking out a cheery tune. “That’s good, isn’t it Swan?”

“I suppose so,” she grumbled. “Though I’d still prefer if the place was dark and scary and full of nettles.” He laughed heartily at that and she couldn’t hold back an answering smile. “Hey, I’m nearly done with this, will you read it over and make sure it’s okay? Just check my grammar and punctuation and stuff.”

“Of course, love, though I’m sure it’s already brilliant.”

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

Freed from the weight of his worry and guilt, Killian gradually began to smile more easily, and his witty, teasing nature (“cheeky git,” Liam called him, his voice irritated but with a relief so profound it bordered on joy in his eyes) came more readily to the fore. When he returned to school the following Monday, he moved through the halls with a swagger that Emma had never seen on him before. Unlike the arrogant, bullying one that Neal always had Killian’s evoked a simple self-assurance that she had to concede looked really good on him. Despite how much emotional baggage he still had to work through he clearly wasn’t burdened by shame anymore, and equally clearly did not intend to take any crap from anyone.

This made itself evident that morning when he shut his locker and turned towards his first class, only to find himself confronted by Felix and Rufio.

“Really, chaps?” he said, raising an eyebrow at them. “You couldn’t even wait until after school so you could chuck me into the bins, like proper high school bullies?”

This mockery went clean over the other boys’ heads, and they continued to block his path, trying to look intimidating while also trying not to be intimidated by Killian’s calm demeanor and his amused expression.

Felix, the sligtly cleverer of the two, suspected he was being laughed at but couldn’t put his finger on why. He didn’t like it.

Bristling, he sneered at Killian. “Bet you think you’ve won,” he snarled. “Now that Neal’s in jail and out of the way. Now you can move in on Emma like you did on that—” he broke off as Killian stepped into his space. There wasn’t much difference in height between them, but somehow Felix had the impression of Killian towering over him, his face calm but his eyes darkly furious, and for once in his life he felt a stab of genuine fear.

“I’m only going to say this once,” growled Killian in the new, lower register his voice had taken on more often of late, “So you’d better listen carefully. Your mate Neal is a criminal, and not even a good one. He’s in jail because he’s stupid, and that’s nothing to do with me. I have no doubt it’s where he’d always have ended up eventually. Bit of advice: If you’re going to steal confidential information, don’t take pictures of the evidence on your phone, and definitely don’t then show those pictures to the sheriff’s daughter. Neal got what he deserved. I now consider this matter closed, and if you or anyone else—” he raised his voice so that the rapidly assmbling crowd of onlookers could all hear, “—tries to take it any further, you will not care for the repercussions.”

Felix wasn’t sure what “repercussions” were, but the hint of repressed violence in Killian’s manner made him keen not to find out. He had always been content to follow Neal, less out of respect for the other boy than a simple unwillingness to make a thing out of Neal’s belligerent insistence that he should be the one in charge, but he’d always sensed that there wasn’t much substance underneath Neal’s bluster. Killian however didn’t bluster. He simply stated facts, and Felix could tell that he was not the sort of person to make a threat he couldn’t back up with action. Perhaps it was time to step out of Neal’s shadow, thought Felix, and take over leadership of their little gang. He certainly couldn’t do a worse job of it than Neal had, and escalating a pointless conflict with a guy who looked prepared to fight dirty if necessary was much more Neal’s style than Felix’s. He nodded at Killian, and stepped back. Rufio looked surprised but followed his lead.

Killian nodded back then transferred his glare to the crowd of onlookers, which had grown considerably in the past thirty seconds and now included Emma and Ruby, he could see out of the corner of his eye. “As for what you may have heard about me,” he said, loudly enough for all to hear. “It’s all true.” He smirked for a moment as a gasp went through the crowd, then his expression hardened. “It’s also no one’s business but mine, and those in whom I choose to confide. This is all I have to say on the subject. Now, if you’ll all excuse me I don’t wish to be late for class.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder and headed down the hall, turning his head briefly to shoot Emma a wink. People moved aside to let him pass and as soon as he had turned the corner furious whispering erupted in his wake.

Ruby pursed her lips. “I may have underestimated him,” she remarked.

Emma’s heart was pounding, a familiar occurrence where Killian was concerned, but this time it felt different. She’d been worried about how he would react to the ineveitable curiosity and questions from their classmates, but this smooth handling of a potentially explosive situation instead of calming her fears instead filled her with the wild desire to run after him, to fling herself into his arms and kiss them both breathless.

“He’s just so wonderful,” she sighed, and Ruby laughed.

“Down, girl,” she teased. “I’ll grant you this one’s worth your time, unlike the douchemaster general, but remember we’re in school. No one wants to see that.”

Emma rolled her eyes and gave her friend a shove, but the butterflies continued rhumba-ing around her insides, this time accompanied by an odd, hollow sort of ache as she remembered her resolution not to pursue Killian anymore. She was now all but certain that she loved him, that beyond the hot, tingly sensation she always felt in his presence lay a profound devotion. She would do anything for him, sacrifice anything to give him what he needed, and that terrified her. For the first time in her life Emma felt vulnerable, exposed, as though her chest were torn open and her heart lain bare to the mercies of fate and one gorgeous, troubled boy. She hated it. Even knowing that Killian would never intentionally hurt her was no consolation when the truth was that he could hurt her simply by caring deeply for her as a friend. If that was all she could ever have from him she would take it, she knew, without pushing for more, but it would be a wound on her heart that would never heal.

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

“He’s a bully,” shrugged Killian at lunchtime, when Emma, this time accompanied by a very inquisitive Ruby, found him in the library. “Bullies are just cowards at their core, and cowards are easy to intimidate. He won’t do anything because he won’t want to call my bluff. I might not be able to back it up but he’ll be too scared to risk finding out.”

“And what would you have done if he had called your bluff?” inquired Ruby.

Killian shrugged again. “Probably got the shit kicked out of me.”

“Would you have, though?” Ruby pressed, watching him through narrowed eyes.

He returned her stare with a look of wide-eyed innocence. “There were two of them to only one of me. Seems inevitable.”

“Does it?” Ruby’s disbelief was almost palpable, and having fenced with Killian for months now Emma shared her friend’s suspicion that he was deliberately underplaying his fighting skills.

“Let’s hope we never have to find out,” said Killian with a small smile, in a tone of voice that made it clear he would answer no more questions on the subject. “I quite like my face arranged the way it is.”

“It is a nice face,” said Ruby with a wolfish grin that widened as Killian’s ears turned pink. “But I didn’t come here just to flatter you. Victor asked me to ask you if he could have your phone number.”

“My number?” Killian blinked in surprise.

“Yeah, there’s some concert in Portland and he doesn’t have anyone to go with and he thought you might be interested.”

“Um, sure, I guess.” Killian rattled off the number and Ruby sent Victor a text. A minute later his phone buzzed and he looked at it, snorting as he read the message. “Bit of a wanker, your boyfriend,” he remarked to Ruby.

“I don’t know what that is but I’m somehow sure that Victor is one,” smirked Ruby. “Is that gonna be a problem?”

“Not at all, I’m rather fond of wankers,” said Killian absently as he typed his reply. “My brother is one, after all.” His phone buzzed again almost instantly and he raised an eyebrow at what he read on it.

“Ems, I think maybe we should leave the boys to their chat,” said Ruby, and as much as she hated to sacrifice free time with Killian, from the way he was fixated on his phone, his expression almost gleeful as he typed rapidly, Emma had to admit she was probably right.

“Okay,” she said. “See you in class in a few minutes, Killian. And maybe hang out after school?”

“Hmmm? Oh, I have an appointment with Dr Hopper at four, but I can text you when I’m done.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him but his attention was back on his phone, so she followed Ruby out of the library trying not to feel too disgruntled. Killian should have other friends, she told herelf firmly, male ones who shared his interests. That was normal, and he could use some normal in his life right now.

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

Over the next few weeks, things at school settled back into a routine, albeit one that was markedly different than it had been. Neal had been officially arrested after David’s investigation, charged with burglary, theft, and theft of a medical record, and was facing up to five years in prison. His parents had put up their house as collateral to pay his bail, but weren’t allowing him to return to school.

“Not much point when he’ll just go straight back to the slammer after he’s sentenced,” said Ruby viciously. “So much for that football scholarship he was so cocky about.”

Emma tried to find some compassion for Neal and what was basically the wreck and ruin of his future, but couldn’t dredge up a single particle of it. He had committed several felonies for no other reason than to stick it to Killian for outsmarting him and for becoming her friend, and he’d committed them flagrantly and with no thought to the consequences. He’d probably thought there wouldn’t be any consequences. Killian was right: Neal deserved everything that was coming to him, if only for being so colossally, arrogantly stupid.

People still whispered about Killian as he walked through the halls but true to character he paid little attention. He did, however, gradually began to open up more and allow more of himself to show through his defences, willingly participating in classes and talking to people other than Emma and Ruby. By the time finals week arrived had actually made a few friends.

Killian reflected wryly that in a twisted sort of way Neal had done him a favour. With all his secrets now out on the open he was free to embrace the opportunity for a new life he’d found in Storybrooke. Not that there had been anything particularly wrong with the old life, at least since his father had finally left. He’d been a mean old drunk, Brennan Jones, and by the time he’d been forced to flee his creditors for good, stealing a boat from Bristol harbour and melting into the offshore underworld, his sons had been glad to see the back of him. Killian thought about what he himself had been like back then, before Milah, and even though it had only been about a year since he’d first become involved with her so much had changed both in his circumstances and in himself, he feared that hopeful, enthusiastic boy was lost forever. Who exactly had taken his place was the question Killian had asked himself daily for weeks now, and he still wasn’t sure how to answer it. He’d become so used to holding everything in, to keeping such a tight rein on his thoughts and feelings that letting them out, accepting that it was okay to express them had become almost unbelievably difficult. The only person he felt even remotely comfortable being fully himself with aside from Liam was Emma, whose support and friendship remained unwavering as he bumbled and struggled thorough the reclamation of his life, and he remained intensely grateful for it.

Only one thing about Emma troubled him-- that she no longer seemed to be interested in anything beyond his friendship. All the little hints and cues she had been giving him since they’d met were suddenly gone, and while he was relieved to be free of the added stress of constantly resisting something that part of him desperately wanted, he couldn’t help wondering if there was a darker motivation for this abrupt about-face. Perhaps, whispered an evil little voice in his head, Emma was actually more disgusted by his past than she let on and was simply too kind to tell him directly. Maybe the thought of him touching her turned her stomach now. He certainly couldn’t blame her if it did.

“What do you want from your relationship with Emma?” asked Dr Hopper one afternoon, after Killian had finally brought himself to mention the change in her behaviour. “Do you want it to be romantic?”

Killian frowned, struggling to sort through the complex tangle of his feelings about and for Emma. “I don’t want a romantic relationship with anyone,” he said finally. “I still feel too messed up for anything like that. But I— I’m still really attracted to her. I think about her all the time, about how we kissed at her party, and I want to kiss her again pretty much constantly, but then I remember Milah and how I thought I felt about her, and I just—”

“You don’t trust your judgement.”

“Yeah.”

“Killian, it’s important for you to remember that you have a much more equal relationship with Emma than you ever did with Milah.”

“Equal, with Emma?” Killian snorted. “You have met her, right?”

Dr Hopper smiled patiently. “I understand that you feel she’s beyond your reach, and that’s a separate issue, but what I mean by equal is that she’s your age and at your stage of life. With Milah you were constantly struggling to relate to her life and her experiences, and when you couldn’t you attempted to make up for that by offering her the affection and sexual attention she craved. You forced yourself to offer these things even though you didn’t genuinely feel them because you feared the consequences of not offering them. But with Emma there is no need to manufacture anything. She is placing no demands on you and therefore any attraction and affection you feel for her is genuine.”

“But what should I do about it?”

“Why should you have to do anything? You said you’re not ready for a romantic relationship, and that’s fine. Let yourself heal. The process is slow and frustrating, but believe me you are making progress. Let your feelings for Emma and your relationship with her develop at a pace that is comfortable for you. From what you’ve said it sounds like she will still be there when, if, you’re ready for more.”

“It’s more than likely she no longer wants more. And even if she did, what happens when she meets someone who isn’t so hopelessly fucked up? Then where does that leave me?”

“Why don’t you worry about that if —not when— it happens?”

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

On the last day before winter break, Emma nervously approached Killian’s locker and handed him an invitation to her parents’ annual Christmas party addressed to him and Liam.

“It’s just a thing they do every year for their friends and our neighbours,” she began to ramble as he examined the card, certain he would refuse and wanting to delay that painful moment. “My mom loves to entertain, and my dad says it’s good for building a rapport between law enforcement and the community, and—”

“Swan,” interrupted Killian, giving her that soft, indulgent look that said he knew exactly what she was thinking. “I’m sure we’d love to attend. Thank you for inviting us.”

The butterflies soared in a grand jeté, and she felt like she was flying with them. “Great,” she said trying to keep her voice calm, “I guess I’ll see you then.”

Her delighted smile made his breath catch, and his answering grin set her heart galloping. Their eyes met and held, and as the end of semester chaos whirled around them they stood a breath apart, swathed in frustrated yearning and brittle tension, the only two people in the world.

Then the final bell rang, and they leapt apart, Emma smoothing her skirt with shaking hands while Killian ran his own trembling fingers through his hair.

“So, onion rings at Granny’s?” ventured Emma, wanting to kick herself for making him nervous again, after all her resolutions, hoping desperately he wouldn’t pull away.

Killian sighed in relief, tinged with a hint of disappointment. Granny’s was safe. “Sounds perfect, love,” he said.

#cs au ff #high school au #teenage captain swan #captain duckling #lieutenant duckling #another brick in the wall #profdanglaisstuff

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bakedpieceofchicken · 5 years

Text

ao3 tag meme

its my blog and im allowed to run it like the anxiety-ridden coward i am...

tagged by @waxwingedhawks

Ao3 account: lemondropped (if you go look for it, theres 0 works attached. you can still find my bad apple series though... bleh. thanks, i hate it. despite it being the most popular thing ive ever written)

Current Writing Summary:

Current word count for the year: 68252

Number of stories (including drabbles) posted to ao3: 26

Fandoms I wrote for: 9

Pairings I have written for:

Background pairings? Tododeku, Bakushima, Tsuchako, Shigadabi

Main pairings? Dabihawks, Shigahawks, Shigadabihawks (oh, there’s a pattern, isn’t there?)

Story with the most kudos: Bad apple, regrettably

Story with the most bookmarks / Story with the most subscriptions: I’ll find you sooner than the stars, more regrettably (people wanna know what comes next? why?!)

Story I’m most proud of: shitty dad club (its the one fic i can say i have no problems with despite having written it like 4-5 months ago.....)

What’s ahead:

- family dinner reunion future fic

- hotwings music festival AU ft. league of villains (was written for day 2 quirkless dabihawks week 2k19, want to put a lot of care into it. i have no idea if ill get hate for associating myself with this fic cause someone out there might have a problem with it but eh i guess ill just have to post it when finished and see.)

- shigahawks childhood friends AU (i have like 4k words written so far? its more canon divergence than actual AU but im taking my time with it. whether its any good or not is anybody’s guess)

- the second half of supreme art of war...................................... camera pans into my face if i ever told you i had any idea what i was doing, it was all a fucking lie. Also the first half needs to be renovated/edited to be like... better. it feels a little unpolished and even at the time of writing that first chapter, i was perfectly aware how OOC the last part was but also i’m getting a little better at writing shigaraki because this man somehow sneaks his way into all my fics now... anyways...

- i started working on this pro heroes interact with Hawks story but idk if i’ll ever finish it lol. i think im like 4/9 pro-heroes done? there’s a +1 too (is this story format dead? who knows, ah whatever im still doing it)

- fuyumi fic thats getting finished at the pace of a snail. im putting a lot of care and effort into it, is all. probably will turn out boring but eh :) that’s the risk you gotta take when writing fanfiction

- chapter 4 of ill find you sooner than the stars? here (i made this a couple of weeks ago):

i probably... need to go back... and edit this one too.... to be less edgy................. or maybe i should just embrace the edginess. become self aware. like dont half-ass the edginess, go all the way in. deliver the edgy angst story everyone wants me to!!!! ahahaha starts coughing i can’t believe im associating myself with this piece of hot garbage that people apparently like. nobody cares but im definitely going to shift the story (assuming i continue it) to monoma and shinsou because im kinda sick of deku and the deku POV probably doesnt serve the narrative too well in the long run. amazing, 10/10 bakedpieceofchicken, youre hot edgy deku trash we all know now :eyes:

ill tag @izdekumidoriya (have u done it already? i have no idea! sorry for making you look at this lol... hopefully u just scanned it instead of actually reading what i put down), @tsvchakos (if youre seeing this, it means i got over my anxiety to post this! woo!!!!), and uh... im not feeling particularly brave enough to tag more mutuals (knowing they have to see this post...) so i’ll leave it at that. if you want to do it, go ahead. you can say i tagged you too :>

#bakedpieceofchicken being an idiot #im still slowly working on the other tag meme #i have 4/5 characters i need to look for the last one lmao #i dont know if i have to say this but dont reblog #not bnha #posting this required a battle against myself

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isas-identity · 6 years

Text

Lance Vs Shiro: Same ending??

Or what I like to call: Why you should be more mad about Lance’s ending than Shiro’s ending in the clusterfuck called “Voltron’s horrible writing”.

Shiro and Lance had very similar endings in the last episode of Voltron, to put it in simple words: They decided to live a quiet life after the war.

This is kinda long, so i will add everything under the cut, i just want to say sorry for any gammar mistakes beforehand.

How, Lance decided to live in a farm with his family and “Surround himself with The Things He Loves”. Meanwhile Shiro got last-minute married with a dude and “Found his happiness and left the War Efforts Behind”. There’s been a LOT of negative reactions from the fans though, because these endings seemed lazy, out of character, etc. But there’s always a big difference in the spectrum:

People who are upset over Shiro marrying a “nobody” who talked like 2 times, and after Shiro being so happy being the captain and leader of the ATLAS, was being pushed aside to live a quiet life, dont care about Lance’s ending.

People who are upset about Lance’s lackluster ending of working on a farm after being clear about his liking of adventure, giving him a clearly racist ending, and never forgetting or moving on from Allura, don’t mind Shiro’s.

Though they DO think the other’s ending wasnt executed nicely, they don’t think the ending itself is bad per se.

And i know it’s been almost a month since VLD finished, but i found myself wondering why is that i am madder about Lance’s ending tha Shiro’s. So let’s break it down point to point and compare them.

Execution:

When we get to the time-skip, before the explanations of what happenned in the rest of their lifes, we see:

Shiro working as an embassador between planets, still a captain of the ATLAS, traveling through the universe to try and unify planets alongside Hunk who uses his food to help leaders see eye-to-eye.

Lance talking to some kids, telling them about Allura’s sacrifice, and telling them he now works and lives helping out on a farm.

Wich, together with their end cards, gives us the conclutions that:

After their last fight with honerva, Shiro was still Captain of the ATLAS for a few years, he married and decided to retire. We do not know if he married BEFORE or AFTER retiring though. Also, we do not know if he kept working or not after his retirement, since it was only said that he left the “War efforts behind and found happiness”. You can see a lot of things happened during his life as he moved on though.

Even if we, as audience didn’t see it, Shiro spent a few years dating his husband before marrying him, and event though it was pulled out of nowhere as a band-aid, it didn’t felt rushed since it was something that happenned years down the line and out-of-camera. So we are left without any kind of opinion about his relationship with his husband. This also means he spent more time as a captain of the ATLAS than some people seem to believe.

After their last fight, Lance retired from being a paladin and started working on his family’s farm, who suddenly have a family farm,before the war was even completely gone. And then he...kept working on his farm and sometimes talked to little kids about Allura.... thats about it.

It is not said if he “found love” or “happiness” or did anything else than farm and plant junniberries.

Their struggles before retirement:

Now, In this one we need to take a minute to compare these two characters during the show.

There are two things people say when discussing about their endings: “He loved adventure, it was his dream to pilot!! why the heck would he retire!!!!” and the more understanding “Well, he went through a LOT during the war, maybe he had enough and wants to take it easy from now on!".

Let’s start with the “They want adventure!” point:

Starting off with Shiro, they say: “He left his fiance because he wanted to be in space that bad! he didnt care if he died!” But i think people misunderstand some things about Shiro in this regard, principally: he was fucking dying.

Shiro had an illness that would leave him unable to move his body before it killed him.

He wanted to prove himself, and go to space, before his body stopped working.

He wanted to leave his mark on history, before he was bound to be stuck on a wheelchair unable to even go to the bathroom, cook or dress himself, so he had something left behind.

So i think people are misplacing his “wanting adventure”, it was more of a cry to wanting to do something with his life before being a vegetable. He was scared of getting nothing done and live his life never doing anything that amounted to anything. Afterwards this problem was solved, wich is not to say he wasn’t happy being apointed being the new captain of the ATLAS and traveling the universe. He WAS. He is a responsible leader and he deserved that position, but he never gave up being a captain after the fight with honerva, again, he was the captain for a few years before retiring when he chose to.

Now, going to Lance’s side, now this kid DID love adventure, breaking the rules, attention, etc. During the series you could see:

Him sneaking out of the Garrison and breaking rules.

Getting inside of alien ships and proceeding to pilot them before the others could finish reacting to seeing an alien ship for the first time.

whooping and hollering while flying in battle.

Actually looking very happy to help others and not backing down at the oportunity to do so.

and that was... like, in the first 3 episodes.

Now to the “They went through a LOT, they want a quiet life now!

Ok, bear with me and let me just run a thing through you all first.

Shiro is in his late 20′s, probably already 30, an adult and was Captain of the ATLAS for a few years before retiring.

Lance is fucking 18, maybe 19, he’s still a fucking embryo, and probably still has a lot of things to figure out about himself, but still decided to run a farm the instant they defeated Honerva i guess.

Now, during the war Shiro:

Was taken against his will and made a slave in space, was made to fight in the arena for entertanment and fought monsters and probably other aliens, probably even had to kill during this time.

Lost his arm and was experimented upon.

Crashed into earth and lost his memories.

Became the leader of a rag-tag tem of teens in space that was the only hope for the universe.

Suffered of PTSD during all of this.

Almost died a lot of times.

Died.

Became a clone.

This clone proceeded to: Betray his friends, help and spy for Honerva, almost killed Keith, who’s the closest person to him at the time.

Lost his arm again.

Almost got killed by Keith too.

He got his consiousness trasspassed from the Black Lion into the body of his clone, wich, almost rejected him and made him die. Again.

Found out his ex-fiance died and earth was almost anihilated.

We never knew anything about his family, but im sure they died since they never appeared???

etc.

Now, with Lance:

He almost died once, and the fandom is pretty sure he died one time after that but since Allura’s powers are weird we are not even sure what the hell happened there.

He felt doubtful about his position on the team.

He missed his family a lot

The girl he liked didnt like him back...?

His girlfriend of a month and a half sacrificed herseld and died.

uhhh... yeah.

And, like, no. I dont mean to say Lance is a cry-baby because he didnt go through as many things as shiro, or the others. The problem with this, is that it makes no sense because fucking lance never had an arc. The writers never cared about giving him some usefulness, or something that made him shine through, and when he was left at the end, they had nothing for him to do. So they gave him a farm.

But like, even after all the bullshit shiro went through, he moved on with his life, he found happiness and love, was still the captain of the ATLAS for some time before retiring, etc.

But Lance, someone who was so cheerful and up to help other people, who didnt left anything bring him down, just... decided to work on a farm for the rest of his life. Not moving on or anything, wich... yeah, it’s weird.

Keith, who almost died in space 971283678 times, found out he was Fucking Galra, was left alone by his parents, found his mother, was stuck in a space whale’s back for 2 years, was stuck on a leadership position he didnt want?? after uniting the Galra and helping put an end to the war he made a Humanitary Relief Organization, to help people with low resources in the universe.

Pidge? She lost her brother and father, ran away from home, got stuck on a war at fucking 15, had to learn how to fight and pilor, since, you know, she wasnt even a pilot in the first place. Almost lost her father to Zarkon, and believed for some time her Brother was dead. Bue she founded a Space Defenders organization to fight for justice in fucking space, and kept inventing tech to keep helping the universe and fight for the weak.

Hunk? He was a coward, he didnt even wanted to sneak out the garrison, much less get stuck on a space war! He didn’t want to fight, he didn’t want to die. His family was even captured on earth, unlike Lance’s. But he learned to be brave, and fought for people’s freedom. He became a diplomat, and learned how to hone his cooking skills to bring people together, so he became a Culinary Embassador to keep the peace in the universe.

They all are doing something with their lifes to help heal the universe after the war. Even after all they went through together. Even shiro helped for a few years before retiring, exept Lance. Who’s a farmer for some reason.

And i’m not saying that fighting on a War isn’t traumatizing enough, I’m just saying that if someone deserves to find love, retire, and live in the fucking bahamas on eternal vacation for the rest of his life, is Shiro. poor guy needed a break a long time ago.

WICH brings me to the last point of this really long essay:

It’s Implications:

It is sad that the only reason we got a wedding with shiro was like a bandaid from the lash-back they had from Adam’s death and the constant Bury Your Gays trope. But let me tell you something: it wasn’t badly done. Yeah, I woul’ve liked to see more of Curtis to get to know him, or maybe see Shiro and Him having some kind of interaction before being slapped with a wedding a few years down the line, but that was it. The point of it (appart from rebuilding the bridge with the LGBT+ comunity) was to make it clear that Shiro found love and happiness in his life, wich im happy he did, and this does not contradict anything his character is about:

It makes it clear that it doesnt matter how dark things are right now, it will pass and you will be happy someday, you can still make your dreams come true, you have to fight for it.

It doesnt matter if you lost your arm, got a horrible scar across your face, got white hair, etc. You can find love, you can still lead a happy life.

Now with Lance is way more jarring. He has this “good boy” storyline with his girlfriend, wich sucks since he could’ve been made into an “anyone can be a hero, it doesnt matter if you’re not specially good at anything!” but alas they missed that mark. He really didn’t had any storyline for himself perse, he became The Boyfriend and stayed that way.

He went from “Ohh, I dont feel like i have a place in the team since everyone is awesome and has abilities and I dont” one season to “The girl I like doesn’t like me back!” on the next.

In the last season we got this “The girl I like is finally dating me!” to “oh no, the girl I loved died after dating me for a month”

Then proceeded to “Let me go work in a farm and plant her favorite flowers on it, while I never stop loving her and never move on and keep telling everyone about her sacrifice forever and ever! War who?? My girlfriend sacrificed herself for peace but let me just ignore the war exists still!”

Wich is... sad. They literally never gave anything to Lance to apport to the team or the universe apart from being there for Keith and Allura when they needed cheering up. And even if he himself says “oh im happy, i have a quiet life and that’s how i like it now!” when you think about his ending, you dont feel that way. He literally has nothing, exept his family and flowers.

So yeah, i dont mind Shiro’s ending. It was one of the last things wrong with the ending of the show, even if it was made for the wrong reasons. And i do believe, people should stop hating on it only because they wanted him to happy his little brother whom is almost 10 years younger than him

And yeah, I do think Lance’s ending was racist. I myself am latina, even have a grandfather who owns a farm. Would i go work in his farm for the rest of my life after losing someone i loved? Fuck no. I do not know shit about farms, or farming. He isnt even shown to be specially good with animals, no more than the rest of the gang. And sincerely, that he cut’s himself from the universe and his friends anddoesnt even do anything to help or reconstructing the universe only sounds like depression to me.

But alright then, to each their own in what they want to believe.

#lance #shiro #voltron season 8 #vld spoilers #klance #because i know the klance fandom feels this #I JUST HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF MY CHEST OK BYE

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