#in the first place... idk. then again the series keeps pushing the “this is a tv show” thing uh so idk

[supahstarrr]

Spoilers

Okay so since Eden is implied to be the one to who stabbed Xander uh... a lot of people's theories about Teruko being the one doing it was wrong (haha). just wondering why the hell would Xander be the one saying "I need to kill Teruko Tawaki to end the killing game" is...? So i would like to say I think her being the mastermind could be possible even though thats typical, but Im leaning towards her existence somehow triggering/motivating the killing game to happen somehow. Something something about her family being connected to hope peaks academy and/oor the killing tragedy thus her needing to be orphaned,, and Mai finally taking Teruko to her family ended up triggering the killing game and killing Mai too idk man. Maybe Teruko's existence was so important that enemies or something triggered the killing gaming to happen probably over and over again. Idk man Don't fucking look at me and my stupid fucking brain

[oukabarsburgblr]

Fair warning, i wrote this like three years ago idk. might be cringe or shit but im not planning to edit this haha have fun

Context: this is from an old wattpad story i wrote. dont visit my wattpad pls. we're sovieshu's and navier's concubine where the two went to celebrate sovieshu's birthday, and kosair came to visit. navier let kosair use her new consort (us) since the girls he slept with couldn't keep up. navier is a yandere in the first part of the series. sovieshu tricked us into marrying him as well. rashta is pissed cuz yada yada. ill edit this into a better format later. enjoy this trash.

-

"W-Wait- ah! You're going to b-break something- hngg ahh!"

Chokes of gasps reverberated from his throat as his back was continuously slammed over and over into a wall. The man holding his thighs only laughed at his concern over damaging something in dark room. "Do not fret slut." His large hand grasped (m/n)'s jaw as it slowly trailed over his throat.

"That will be the least of your concern once I'm finished with you." Kosair snarled as his thrusts became harsher prompting (m/n) to spill moans that echoed in the guest bedroom. His head was pounding from the sheer ecstasy his body was receiving and his loose robes was slowly slipping from his bare shoulders from the repeated thrusts.

He expected this to happen of course, Navier had given him the heads up that her brother was to arrive tomorrow and he will be needing...assistance in his needs. (m/n) reluctantly agreed to this of course after he heard Navier's odd reasonings. It will only be sex. He thought. But he didn't know the man he would have to please would be so commanding.

"Lift your leg up." Kosair turned his body to face the wall and (m/n) planted both his hands to steady himself. His face was sweating and his cock was dripping pre cum from the pleasure as he dazedly lift his left leg. The blonde grabbed under his knee and lifted it into the consort's chest. Before (m/n) could ask he screamed as Kosair roughly slammed into the consort once more.

Short and shallow thrusts were drowning the consort as his ass bounced slightly back onto Kosair's crotch. The blonde hugged the consort from behind and buried his face into (m/n)'s neck, his lips grazing his hot skin and he was tempted to take a bite. "Mm- ah! You're s-so big! Wait!" The (h/c) bit his lower lip harshly as his orgasm was forced through his body.

White sticky liquid shooted onto the wall and some landed on his own body as heat swelled his mind. "Ah! Ahh..." He panted from the adrenaline as Kosair paused his movements. His left the consort's leg as his thumbs circled (m/n)'s hips. "I'm not done yet, alright?"

The (h/c) nodded sluggishly as his body was turned sideways and Kosair grabbed his right thigh this time and placed it on his shoulder. (m/n) leaned his body fully against the wall for support as his head rested on the thin wallpaper. A sigh escaped the consort and Kosair leaned in close to peck the shell of his ear. "You can handle more, right?"

The consort's eyelashes fluttered close as he pursed his lips nodding to the blonde. Rough and calloused fingers slowly trailed into his ass as (m/n) flinched feeling two digits sliding down the crack of his ass and pressing his entrance lightly. "You must've done this before. Being married to the emperor means you're just his entertainment." The blonde glared at the consort as he received no reply.

His heart pounded loudly in his chest, (m/n) moaned again when Kosair started to caress the rim of his asshole and gently prodded inside to press his wet entrance. "St-Stop playing around." The consort stuttered feeling the heavy gaze on his naked body. Kosair pushed the robes off his body with his hand as he did the same to himself while smirking at the consort.

"Thought you would like foreplay. You seem the kind of man who would love to be pampered." Kosair started to roughly finger the consort. "F-Fuck! Ah hah." (m/n) leaned his head back and peeked at the blonde who was still looking down on him possibly berating the consort in his mind. The consort scowled and spat. "Fuck off."

Kosair grinned as he leaned close to the former's face. His tongue started to lick at his jaw, traveling deeper to his neck while his fingers were still moving in and out of the consort. "I'm sorry but who's the one doing the fucking here?"

Arching his back, (m/n) unintentionally stuck his ass out more as he mewled from the sucking on his neck.  The harsh fingering in his asshole was getting rougher by the second and he felt a hand grab his dick. "Hey answer me now." Kosair purred in his ear, giving a few pecks here and there. "Didn't you hear me? Who's the one fucking who now?"

He wanted to release, to achieve the fulfilling orgasm but Kosair's tight grip on his dick said otherwise. (m/n) furrowed his eyebrows as he felt tears pricking in the corner of his eyes from frustration. "Y-You! You're the one who's doing me..." He meekly responded, turning away as he refused to meet his gaze.

Gasping aloud, his face was grabbed by a hand stained with cum and Kosair snarled as he forced the consort to meet his eyes. "Look at me when I'm talking to you." (m/n) shook his head as his dick twitched to cum but Kosair quickly took a hold of it again, not letting the consort get what he wanted.

"I-I don't want to." He mumbled as he choked a gasp, four fingers up to the knuckles deep in the consort's ass. "Ah ah ah! Too much." Kosair scoffed as he moved from his dick to his ass instead. "Tch. You're lucky you're pretty." He mumbled as he took his fingers away and slammed his thick cock inside the consort.

(m/n) let out a shriek as his eyes began to roll back, his body was rocked heavily by Kosair's pounding. "Shit shit! Ummff!" Saliva drooled from the corner of his lips as (m/n) reached his high. Cum spurted between the two naked bodies. The consort felt flustered as he saw his own semen dribbled down the blonde's washboard abs. A grin stretched on the blonde's man handsome face as he chuckled while biting his lips.

His pounding hadn't stopped and (m/n) released endless groans. "You can feel me up if you want." Taking the consort's hand as he laid it on his stomach. His fingers twitched as he felt the pure muscle under his fingertips and the rock hard abs Kosair owned. The wall (m/n) was leaning on trembled lightly from the sheer harsh thrusts the man emitted.

The (h/c) whined as Kosair stepped closer to him as if they weren't close enough already. His body was folded with one leg on the floor and the other on the blonde's shoulder. He felt the dick piercing his hole reached even deeper and his prostate was pressed harshly. "Haa! S-So deep!" (m/n) unintentionally shrieked as he hissed once Kosair pressed closer to him. he had to step on his the edge of his toes to prevent from falling down. (m/n) tried telling the man currently fucking his ass but it seemed this was what Kosair intended. Deep laughter rumbled from the other as the blonde mocked the consort. "Now now. Don't cry already."

Fingers swept the stray tears rolling on (m/n)'s cheeks, he didn't even notice when he had started tearing up. Heat from deep within his stomach was burning lowly as the flame started to reach his chest from the sheer bliss. "I haven't even cum yet." This shocked the consort who had already came twice by now. "W-What?" "You heard me." A kiss planted on (m/n)'s cheek.

"I haven't had my fill yet. So you'll be working hard for me until I'm satisfied. You'd do it for me, won't you?"

Nodding harshly, (m/n) felt another wave of orgasm almost crashing him. "Ahn! Ah! Ah!" He screamed as he reached his third orgasm for the evening.

"Hold still." Kosair mumbled as he slid his hand onto (m/n)'s back, both his arms holding the consort up. The (h/c) felt himself being lifted slightly as his feet couldn't reach the floor anymore. He buried himself in the blonde's chest, his face pressing on his pec as Kosair began to heavily thrusted into the consort. Said consort had only reached his high and wasn't given any rest. His hole twitched around the blonde's fat cock and Kosair groaned in pleasure as he buried himself deeper in the consort. Pulling out until the tip, he began to pound (m/n) into oblivion, not paying mind to the short screams by the former as he used the (h/c) as a personal sex toy.

Finally, Kosair reached his first orgasm as he came when he was pulling out of the consort filling a part of him and spraying on his ass. They both panted as (m/n) was slowly placed down so his foot was touching the floor.

"That's my first orgasm." The blonde panted as he slicked back (m/n)'s hair, placing his lips on his forehead. "I'm targeting five tonight."

Shit. It took (m/n) almost four orgasms to reach Kosair's first one. How was he going to last until the latter's fifth? The blonde saw the look on the former's face. "As I said, no worries." The (h/c) felt hands groping his throbbing ass.

"I'll make sure you'll please me properly tonight."

-

"Shit SHIT! AH!" He screamed as he came another time. The skin of his stomach now washed with his own semen as his hands was pulled back as leverage for Kosair to pound in his ass. (m/n) arched his back as his knees dug into the maroon duvet. The collar on his throat lightly restricting his air flow.

They had moved to the bed and Kosair wasted no time to fuck the consort again as he forced the latter to kneel on the bed, facing the wall as Kosair climbed behind him and pulled both his hands as leverage to thrust into his hole using it like a pocket pussy once again.

(m/n) felt like a whore. His body was being used by a man he barely met, let alone it was his brother in law and the consort thought about demanding compensation but the fat dick he owned was already a good enough reward.

There were even sex toys in nearby cabinets that were free for them to use. Kosair had already grabbed a black collar and a leash which he locked around (m/n)'s neck. He threw the attached leash to the side for now.

Now, Kosair was filling (m/n) to the brim with his member. The consort didn't have to look at it to know how big it was, it was already in him for the past hour. It had a thick girth that managed to make his asshole shudder as it brushes harshly and tearing his walls bit by bit but (m/n) likes it. The pain made his body tingled and all those pricks was converted into pleasure.

What a masochist he was. And Kosair just so happened to be a sadist.

(m/n) threw his head back as another orgasm rocked his body, his semen spilling out of his cock, drooping down his stomach and between his thighs eventually mixing with Kosair's that was sprayed messily onto his ass. "Mmh haa ah ngg!" His mouth was still moaning endlessly and it was almost at the same level of a cheap pornstar. The blonde liked it however as he crawled closer and grabbed the leash attached to the collar on (m/n)'s neck.

The consort yelped as he was forced to lean behind on Kosair's chest. "You've been holding on for quite some time. All of the women I had before would've passed out by now." The blonde mumbled as he sneaked his hand forward to pinch at his nipples. (m/n) bit his lip as a grin almost stretched at his lips from the pleasure.

Kosair never stopped humping the consort's ass repeatedly to get to his high. The latter mewled as another orgasm wringed out of his own cock. Semen that was spurted visibly became more dilute as the consort panted heavily. His head was fuzzy and the blonde was still ramming his cock in (m/n)'s asshole. The tip was driving into his prostate and every time it hits (m/n) would mewl happily as he bounced his ass back on the blonde.

The (h/c) was slowly starting to like this. To have someone treating him like a sexual object simply to release some steam with was very exciting now that he was in that exact situation.

Tugging the leash, (m/n) was pushed onto the bed as he fell flat on his face. His ass was still sucking in a cock and the consort instinctively spread his legs further to give space for the blonde to thrust to or maybe he just wanted to tease the latter. A large hand pressed in between his shoulder blades, forcing his upper body to lay on the sheets while his lower half was pressing to his crotch closer.

Silently shuffling to get the blonde to fuck him again earned him a strike on one of his asscheeks. "Don't mindlessly try to provoke me." Kosair growled but this invoked the consort to tease him more. "Why not?" (m/n) glanced behind as he grinned lewdly, his eyes scanning all over the blonde's body drinking in the muscles and his fat man tits.

Sneakily his two hands trailed over his own full ass as he gently pulled his buttcheeks apart, giving a clear view of his wet and throbbing asshole that was already filled with Kosair's cock. "Please use me however you like." He grinned messily with his twitching cock that was drooling precum.

Kosair scoffed as a malicious grin stretched sadistically on his face. His grip on the leash tightened furiously as he tugged it to serve as a reminder to the consort to behave. "I'm happy to do so."

"Ahh! Haa! Mmm ah you're so big!" (m/n) stuck his tongue out and clenched on the sheets in front of him as Kosair drilled his cock into (m/n)'s ass stretching his cum filled hole to fit his cock once again. The consort's body was rocked heavily and he felt pain from the constant tugging and pulling of his collar but he wasn't going to complain any time soon. The bed was also moving and the frame was hitting the wall with every thrusts from the sheer force of Kosair's pounding.

He came again and Kosair followed soon after but this time he managed to pull out of the consort and grabbed his head and turned it to face him as he sprayed his semen all over the consort's face. (m/n) felt a good portion of the cum enter his mouth as he deviously swallowed it and licked the corner of his lips cheekily.

Kosair held in a laugh as he tugged his hairtienout from his hair, letting his flowy golden strands fall. His hair was similar to Navier, of course they were siblings. It was still only evening and the room was dark with the curtains close but some sunlight still managed to peek through which shone on the blonde's face perfectly.

Now that (m/n) noticed it, his face was eerily similar to the empress. Like Kosair was the male version of her, (m/n) would always love her and he knows that. But to have someone with the exact features currently fucking his ass with such atrocity and ruthlessness...well it reminded the consort of the woman he loved.

Not noticing that his body was turned so his back was on the bed, Kosair tapped his thigh bringing him back to reality. The blonde brought his legs propped on either side of his body so the consort would be spreading his legs as if to offer himself to the blonde. Caressing his (s/c) thigh, Kosair moved forward to embrace the consort as he peppered more kisses on his shoulder.

(m/n)'s neck was painted with hickeys and bite marks all over, the culprit adding more without mercy. The consort liked that of course, he mewled messily as he took a hold of Kosair's long hair and began tugging it to tell him he wanted his dick in his ass. The blonde scoffed as he bit into (m/n)'s neck, the latter letting out a shrill moan by the sensation.

"Ahn! Ah ah! Haa- mmggh!" He bit his lip as he felt his entrance probbed and stretched once again. (m/n) felt his ass clenched as he realised he had a dry orgasm just from Kosair's member entering him. "Aren't you embarassed?" The consort looked to him in confusion while silently marvelling over the fact that he looked like Navier.

"That I'm treating you like a fuck toy."

It was more of a question, Kosair had his fair share of flings at the borders but prostitutes now denied of his demands as they all said his stamina was far too much for them to keep up with and he was too nasty in bed. Said blonde was amused over the fact that Navier offered his own consort to help him with his relief and when the two men were having sex, Kosair constantly observed (m/n) to see if he had any regrets nor pain for having to service him but all he could see was the consort enjoying having a dick in him.

It confused the blonde to be precise, if he was into men, why would he marry Navier in the first place? He was angry when he found out Sovieshu took in another woman and doted on her instead of Navier and when another man joined the picture, he assumed that said man will treat his baby sister the same way.

But all he could see was a whiny (h/c) who loves affection and pain as the consort now constantly tried reaching out to wrap him in his arms. Can a man like this could ever bring pain to the empress' heart?

"I think you're right."

(m/n) giggled lightly as he licked his bottom lip with seduction. "I like to be treated like a slut." Kosair faltered by this as he stopped moving his hips as he chuckled deeply while tugging the leash prompting another moan from the bottom. A snort came from the blonde as he laughed while threwing his head back and he sneered at the consort.

"My sister married a fucking freak."

Earning a wink from the consort, Kosair started to pound the consort's ass, his balls slapping against (s/c) flesh and the moans between them became even louder. (m/n) continued to caress the blonde's face as his mind was constantly reminded of his loving wife. Maybe he had missed the empress but to see a male version of her giving empty affections to him empowered him greatly.

A strong hand pulled at one of the cupboards, Kosair picked a small red bottle that had an enchanting aura to it. "Here." The blonde bit off the cap, spitting it to the side as he gestured the bottle to the consort's mouth. "It's a libido potion."

Without hesitating, (m/n) took the bottle and downed a good amount of it as he handed it back to the blonde. Kosair did the same as he pulled out, drank the potion and poured the red liquid all over the consort's entrance somewhat using it as lube. It didn't take effect immediately but when the potion reached his head (m/n) gasped loudly at the throbbing heat now flaming all over his body.

"Ahn! Ah! Mmff gah!" His moans were now louder as his ass clenched emptily. He felt so fucking wet with the potion seeping into his hole and Kosair started to moan too as he quickly thrusted into the consort. (m/n) shouted in quick moans as he fisted the sheets in fear of the adrenaline now consuming his body. The blonde's pace increased drilling himself into the consort.

It was nowhere near romantic but the blonde sure was falling in love with his receptive body. The way (m/n) was so easy to fold and how loud his moans were, it was eye catching to say the least. Said consort however was getting dizzier by the moment as he came again, white sticky liquid bursting from his red tip and decorating his already messy figure.

Everything was sensitive. Kosair didn't stop slamming himself deep into his ass, only pulling out halfway and fucking him in short deep thrusts. (m/n) loved this as he begged for more. "More- ah! Harder harder!" He whined. The blonde scoffed as he pulled the consort's hair earning a yelp from the latter as he used it as leverage to fuck himself into the consort.

(m/n)'s body was sweating and heavily rocked by the force of the top currently humping his lower half. The rim of his asshole was sensitive as every crease of Kosair's cock, every vein and every curve was felt as it thrusted in and out repeatedly. His insides were all painted with white as Kosair came balls deep inside the consort. "Mm- ahh! Nggh haa ha ha." He panted heavily as a dry orgasm was forced out of him without even touching his cock.

Kosair smirked at this. "Guess you're able to cum without even touching your cock." Flicking the red tip, he earned a whine from the consort as he stilled himself inside his ass, not even pulling out yet to empty his cum fully in his hole. Five full seconds later, then he pulled out and cum spurted from (m/n)'s pink asshole painting a lewd sight for the blonde to enjoy.

"Hmm." He groaned feeling himself being engulfed by the toxicity of the aphrodisiac, his penis hardening once more. A whine below him and Kosair glanced at the consort, scrutinising him silently. "So demanding." (m/n) whimpered as he bucked his hips to Kosair's crotch wanting more.

A yelp and Kosair pulled his knee and propped it on his shoulder, grinning all the way as (m/n) instinctively turned sideways for support. The blonde wasted no time to enter the (h/c) once again.

At this position, (m/n) was finally able to have a good look of his face. Kosair had a handsome face with a sharp jawline, a fairly built nose and sharp eyes. All the consort thought while looking at him was Navier.

"N-Navier! Ah!" Kosair's eyes widened as he realised whose name the whore was calling for. He scoffed as he leaned close to his face. "You're really whipped for my sister, aren't you?" (m/n) was only able to mewl and enjoy the repeating thrusts as he moved his bottom half to meet Kosair's cock halfway.

The consort now is fully doused by the drug, his mind now fuzzy and his body moved to satisfy his boosted lust with the blonde as he pulled Kosair's hair. "Navier!" He didn't even remember who he was fucking at that moment only thinking of the empress he had loved oh so dearly.

Without hesitating, (m/n) pulled the blonde into a kiss, messily pressing his lips to the former and bit on his bottom lip. The consort sucked harshly and Kosair groaned into the kiss as he sucked his teeth and started to fuck the consort faster.

(m/n) was now out of his mind, lost in the ocean of pleasure and lust having sunk at the bottom of the sea floor. With Kosair who he drunkenly thought was Navier, he enjoyed bringing relief to his desires as he offered his body to the blonde for him to use however he likes. Kosair who was also drugged by the aphrodisiac was amused by the consort as he used his body like a cheap toy for his dick. All of his stress melted away as he held the consort for the rest of the evening.

-

"Haa ha ha..." Pants rang through the room as the man laid on the soft mattress, the bed creaked however when he moved harshly. Kosair noted that he might have broken the bed. His eyes glanced to his left at the man who had passed out by his side, his body littered with hickeys and bitemarks.

Most of his skin was coated with a thin layer of sweat and cum. (m/n) was laying on his side, unconsciously deciding that his ass senstive after having sex for 10 rounds with Kosair as he said before only cumming for five times.

The blonde stared at the ceiling, pondering on his thoughts regarding the (h/c). He has a very small view involving consorts and concubines. Concubines were only personal whores for the monarch while consorts just had a fancier name to it in his opinion which is rather shit. When he was informed of the news of his sister's second marriage, he was angered at the thought of another man hurting her sister's feelings.

Imagine his face when Navier herself offered her consort for his sexual desires. He was stunned by her offer and after contemplating that it had been so long that he last had sex so he just took up the offer. After all, weren't consorts are just sluts as well?

He was proven right and wrong. (m/n) most definitely acted like a whore, the way he openly admitted to like being treated like a sexual object and a full blown masochist. Freakier than Kosair if he was to be honest.

But when he went drunk by the libido potion, he was taken aback once again when he called out for Navier's name when he reached his release. Sober (m/n) was probably holding it in but the fact that when he was at his most horny and vulnerable state and he thought Kosair was his sister....it just proved that (m/n) really loved and only desired the woman rather than having someone else.

I'll let you live this time...Kosair silently threathened the consort as he went to sleep, his energy wasted having use it all to fuck the (h/c). His body relaxed as he let the sweet embrace of slumber engulfed his being.

-

The blonde didn't expect to be waken up like this. The sun hasn't risen yet but here he was awake as he felt someone touching his lower half. A naughty (h/c) was still under the effect of the aphrodisiac so he used the closest person to him to fulfill his lust.

(m/n) didn't pay mind to the dazed blonde as he hollowed his cheeks. His tongue eagerly lapping up the hardening cock in his mouth as he bucked his face to shove it down his throat. His other hand jerked his own member off as he moaned relentlessly around the thick cock.

A hand grabbed his hair and clenched it tightly. "You fucker..." Kosair seethed as he groaned when (m/n) sucked harshly on the bulbous tip. The blonde moaned as he bucked his hips into the (h/c)'s mouth. The consort didn't mind as he continued giving the blonde a blowjob.

"You're still horny after all those rounds." Kosair threw his head back, relishing in the fantastic mouth (m/n) had as he sat up properly. Saliva coated his cock and the consort began to lick the underside relentlessly, pressing his tongue on the visible veins around his member. The (h/c) cheekily stroked what's left of his dick that he couldn't fit in his mouth, enjoying the blonde's reaction.

He pulled away for a second to retort. "What could I say? With such a sexy man sleeping beside me, I couldn't exactly resist." (m/n) winked at the blonde as he straddled him, his ass hovering over his member. Kosair smirked and rolled his eyes in a teasing mock. He lied back down with his hands behind his head, preparing to enjoy the show.

"Go ahead doll." The blonde hummed, his eyes trailing all over the (h/c) enchanting body. "Please yourself on my cock." Placing both his hands on his torso, feeling abs under his fingertips, the consort gently placed himself down and started to fuck himself on Kosair's dick.

It seemed that the blonde underestimated the aphrodisiac's effect on the consort. Well now he knows for sure that the (h/c) is a slut. One he might have kept if it wasn't for his sister. As the moans started to erupt in the once empty room, the two held each other to fulfill their now boosted lust as they forget all their duties in the world just for a brief moment.

[keikikait]

ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ (ʀᴀꜰᴇ ᴄᴀᴍᴇʀᴏɴ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ)

this is a prequel series to lost in reality, however you don't have to read this one first!

pairing: rafe cameron x f!reader, (not au, both are early to mid 20's), slight jj & john b x reader (flirting & kissing)

word count: 3k

summary: a couple pogues find their way into a kook only party

warnings: drinking!!!!!, enemies to lovers (pogue!reader x rafe), mean/cocky rafe, use of the words 'whore' and 'slut', pushing/shoving & one punch is thrown, sexual tension but no smut, flirting & grinding on jj & john b, i made up a club name lol, ward is still alive (just mentioned), rafe gives reader an ultimatum

a note: idk if i slayed. i'm also trying to crank out a bunch of fics before i get too busy, so if you have any requests, please let me know! also, i wanted to try adding photo banners...lemme know if you like it.

please reblog and like, it means a lot! let me know what you think!

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧

You're not quite sure how JJ even got the tickets in the first place.

The Underworld was the newest club to open on Kildare, right outside the luxurious neighbourhood of Figure 8. It was supposed to be Kooks only, but JJ never backed down from an opportunity to party. You arrived just after midnight, the line already wrapped around the building.

After a long wait and getting your purse and I.D. checked (thankfully the bouncer didn't clock the boy's fake ones), you, JJ, and John B slid into the club. It was loud, the ground vibrating as you made your way to the bar. JJ kept his hand in the middle of your back to make sure you didn't wander off or get snatched by some Kook asshole.

You didn't belong there, but you were determined to have fun, at least for a little while. You just hoped that JJ and John B would behave themselves.

After downing a few cocktails (the Sea Breeze, mainly; vodka mixed with cranberry and grapefruit juice, the bar’s specialty), you drag John B and JJ towards the dance floor. Hollywood Undead's Everywhere I Go starts to play, and you squeal with excitement, the vodka already hitting you. JJ stands behind you, his hands on your hips as you grind up against him, while John B stands in front of you, his arms around you as he grinds against you. 

You giggle as JJ grips your hips tighter, pulling you even closer to him. You bite your lip as you stare up at John B, his eyes going down your tank top. You're lost in it; the feeling of the alcohol running through your veins, the music and the vibrating floor, and the two boys you're sandwiched between. 

JJ's fingers press into your hips, and you could feel his nails through the fabric of your miniskirt. He grinds against you from behind, his breath hot against your ear. “You're being a tease,” he murmurs, and you feel your skin flush with heat as he says it.

John B looks down at you. “He's right, y'know,” he agrees, his hands wandering lower down your back.

“I’m just trying to enjoy myself, and enjoy my favourite party song.” You say, your fingers intertwining into the hair at the back of John B’s neck.

“Are you now?” JJ's fingers slide up the skin of your stomach, pushing your tank top up. The feel of his calloused hands against you sends shivers down your spine, and you could feel his thumbs teasing the underside of your bra.

John B reaches up to grab your hair with one hand, right at the root. He grabs your hip with his free hand and pulls you closer, hooking two of his fingers into the waistband of your miniskirt. He tugs your head back, forcing you to look up at him. Your eyes are wide and slightly glassy, your lip gloss smudged from your drink. He smirks before leaning down to kiss you, keeping your hair in a tight grip.

You kiss him back sloppily, your hands falling onto his forearms. The vodka is making your head spin, and the way he tastes slightly of the mango vape he took a hit from earlier makes your knees weak.

John B smirks against your lips as he tugs on your hair again, kissing you roughly and forcing you to open your mouth for him. His tongue invades your mouth, tasting the lingering alcohol on your own. You can feel the metal of his rings against your hip as he pushes some of your waistband down. JJ's fingers tease the waistband of your skirt, his thumbs gently massaging your hips. He nibbles your earlobe, his hands trailing further up your stomach as the three of you grind together.

JJ and John B are caught up in their own little competition over you, and you're enjoying every second of it. You didn't care about anyone else in the club, your attention solely focused on the two boys you were with. John B's lips move from your lips to your neck, his free hand tugging up your skirt even more. He sucks at the skin on your neck, his mouth and tongue working to leave a mark. while JJ's fingers caress your stomach, occasionally slipping under your shirt to trace your stomach.

JJ's lips wander down your neck, his mouth leaving hot kisses on your skin. He could taste sweat and salt, and he couldn't get enough of it. One of his hands drops to your stomach, feeling the muscles there flex, his fingers dipping under the waistband of your skirt. John B looks up at you, his eyes dark as he watches you squirm. He tugs at your hair, yanking your head back again and forcing your breath to come out in a gasp.

Your head is swimming, lost in the feeling of JJ and John B’s touches and kisses. You don’t know how much time has passed, but you do know that you love the feeling of the vodka flowing through you.

You can't hear the yelling over the music, but you can feel when JJ suddenly goes flying, landing on his ass on the sticky bar floor. You're still a little tipsy, John B tugging you out of the way as Rafe towers over JJ. “What the hell are you Pogue fucks doing here?” 

“Chill out, Rafe,” John B says, pushing his shoulder with one hand. “We paid to get in. We're allowed to be here.”

“I know you paid, but that doesn't mean you're welcome here,” Rafe says with a laugh. “The last thing I want is some disgusting Pogue trash spoiling my night.”

JJ pushes himself off the floor, ignoring the stares from the other party guests. “Last time I checked, I'm welcome anywhere I want, Kook,” he says. “Why don't you go find somewhere else to be a prick?”

“Nah, nah, you shitheads aren't allowed here,” Rafe says, his eyes drifting down to you. “No Pogues, and no whores. So get the fuck out.”

“Whore?” You ask, pulling away from John B. “You don’t even know me, asshole.”

Rafe turns his gaze to you, his eyes raking over you, taking in your dishevelled look. He leans down to your level, a smirk on his face. “I know enough,” he says. “You're hanging out with two white trash Pogue stoners, and with the way they're all over you, you're definitely a whore, too.”

“Leave her out of this, man.” JJ says, pushing Rafe backwards. “Your problem is with John and me. Not her.”

Rafe stumbles back a couple of steps before straightening himself up. He glares at JJ, shoving his shoulder. “So protective,” he drawls. “It's cute, really.”

John B steps between you and Rafe, his fists clenched. “Just leave us alone,” he says, trying to remain calm. He didn’t want to get banned from another club. “We didn't do anything to you, man. We’re just trying to enjoy our night.”

Rafe laughs, shoving John B back. “You're right,” he says. “You didn't do anything, but Pogues aren't allowed here. So why don't you take your whore and get out?”

“Dude, just leave us alone.” You say. “We were allowed in. There isn't anything you can do about it.”

Rafe smirks, stepping close to you, his eyes narrowing. “Are you sure about that?” he asks, lifting your chin with his finger. “Or maybe I could get my security friends to kick you all out.”

“We paid like everyone else,” JJ snaps, pushing Rafe’s hand away from your face. “Don’t fucking touch her, she’s never done anything to you. We're not breaking any rules being here, so cut your bullshit and go bother someone else.”

“Oh, really?” Rafe laughs. “You seriously think that just because you paid, and you followed the rules, you're welcome here? That's rich, considering you're a bunch of Pogue trash.” He looks down at you again, his smirk growing wider. “I wonder what Daddy will say if he finds out that his good little girl is hanging out with two stoner Pogue boys, getting piss drunk in the most expensive club on Kildare.”

“At least my dad actually cares about me,” You say, trying to lunge at him, but John B immediately grabs your arms and tugs you back. “You act all tough in the hopes that your daddy will even give you one second of his time.”

Rafe's face darkens with anger as the words tumble out of your mouth, his expression turning from smug to furious in an instant. “Don't you dare talk about my father, you little slut,” he says, getting up in your face, almost touching you. “You have no idea what you're talking about, and you have no right to make judgements about my life.”

John B grips you tighter, yanking you even further back as Rafe tries to get closer to you. You bark out a laugh, squirming in John B’s arms. “You don’t know anything about me or my family either, Rafe. Learn to take what you dish out.”

“I know enough,” Rafe spits, his voice dripping with hatred, although it isn’t entirely directed at you. “You're a piece of Pogue trash with no class and no respect. You don't belong here, and you never will. And the fact that you came in here with those two losers only proves that you belong in the swamp with them, whoring yourself out. So why don't you do everyone a favour and leave?” John B has to practically hold you back, his grip tightening on you as you writhe in his arms. He knew you could handle yourself, but that didn't mean that he wanted you to get yourself into more trouble with a guy like Rafe.

“I understand you're pissed at us, man,” JJ says, trying to keep his voice as even as possible as he takes a step in front of you, “but there's no reason for you to take it out on her like that. She didn't do anything to you.”

Rafe goes quiet, staring at JJ, his jaw ticking. The punch is swung so fast you can barely react before JJ stumbles back, bumping into you. Kelce and Topper, who had been standing behind Rafe and enjoying the show, move to grab him, both holding onto an arm as they yank him back.

JJ's lip is split, blood trickling down his chin. He swipes at it with the back of his hand, glowering at Rafe. “Real big man, picking a fight with someone for talking back to you.”

You’ve almost completely sobered up at this point. You grab the back of JJ’s partially buttoned up shirt, tugging him towards you. “Let’s just go. It’s not worth it.”

“Yeah, I'm not taking orders from you,” he mutters, but he lets you tug him back anyway. “And we're not leaving. We paid for admission, and I'll be damned if I'm leaving early just because some Kook has a stick up his ass.” 

Rafe tries to lunge again, but Kelce and Topper easily hold him back. John B puts up his hands in surrender, trying to defuse the situation. “Look, dude, we'll just go. No trouble, alright?”

You tug on JJ’s arm, yanking him away as John B leads you out of the club. JJ scowls as you drag him away, but he doesn't resist. He mutters under his breath as you step out of the club, the cool night air hitting you in the face.

John B leans against the building, his head tilted back as he tries to calm down. The adrenaline and anger from the confrontation with Rafe is still pumping through his veins, and he takes a deep breath before speaking. “Jesus, JJ, you really know how to piss people off.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ do anything!” JJ says exasperatedly. “It was all Rafe. Fucking asshole.”

John B rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, a big Kook shithead, we get it. But you don't have to provoke him, man. You know he's always picking fights with us.”

JJ scowls at the comment, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I didn't provoke him! He was the one who started it!”

“Guys, come on.” You say, head already starting to pound. “Let’s just go.” John B and JJ exchange a look, their brief anger forgotten as they look at you.

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” John B says, shrugging his shoulders. “I'm still up for partying. You good, JJ?”

JJ eyes you for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, I'm cool. Let's see what other shithole is still open.”

You head out of Figure 8, headed back towards The Cut.

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Thankfully, your night wasn’t too rough.

You’re only slightly hungover at work the next day, the small desk fan blowing air back and forth as you sit at the counter, waiting for a customer while you scroll on your phone. Working at your dad’s bait shop was all fun and games until no one needed any bait. There wasn’t even really a door, just a big open wall lined with mosquito netting, overlooking the water that lined The Cut, the spot that normally holds your dad’s fishing boat is empty.

The sun is high in the sky, beating down on the docks and making the air feel thick and heavy. The wooden dock outside creak, the telltale sign a customer is coming. You quickly pocket your phone and stand up, rummaging through some random papers on the counter as you try to look professional and busy. You look up as the mosquito netting parts. “Hey, welcome to--”

It’s Rafe.

Rafe smirks as he steps into the bait shop, his eyes raking over you from head to toe. He can see the way you pause for a fraction of a second before your forced smile, and he can't help but find some enjoyment in it. He takes his time wandering around the shop, looking at the different merchandise and lures hanging on the walls. Rafe finally makes his way to the counter, leaning against it and staring down at you. “You look like hell,” he finally says.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, setting the papers down. “You don’t fish.”

Rafe laughs, his eyes never leaving your face. “I came to see how you're doing,” he says, his tone laced with mocking concern. “After last night, I was worried about you,” His eyes rove over you again, taking in your hangover and tired look. “I was worried I had broken you, but you look like you survived the night.”

You sigh, not in the mood to play his games. “Why are you really here, Rafe? Everyone knows you wouldn’t go into The Cut just to gloat.”

He feigns innocence, placing a hand over his heart. “I'm offended, really,” he says. “But you're right, I didn't come here just to gloat. I came to make you a proposition.”

You sit back down on the stool, leaning your elbows onto the counter. “Which is?”

Rafe leans onto the counter as well, his gaze flickering down, looking at the way your body moves before meeting your gaze again. “It's a little favour, really,” he says, his smirk growing wider. “In exchange for me not telling your father about the cute party-girl image you tried to pass off last night.”

Your jaw clenches. Even though you seemed blasé about it last night, you were worried about the effect it would have on your father’s business. “Go on.”

Rafe's smirk only widens at your tense reaction, enjoying the fact that he was the one in control here. He leaned closer, dropping his voice. “I want you to spend one day with me, anywhere I want. Do whatever I say, go wherever I say, and I won't tell your daddy anything about your little adventure last night. Think of it as payment for my discretion.”

“I’m not going to sleep with you.” You say almost immediately. 

Rafe raises an eyebrow, looking almost offended by your assumption. “Whoa, slow down, I never said anything about that,” he says, holding up his hands in a mock-surrender. “I'm not that desperate, okay? No, all I want is a simple date. And if everything goes well, I won't say a word to your dear, ignorant daddy. You can still keep your little reputation.”

“Desperate?” You ask.

“Yes, desperate,” Rafe says, his tone turning slightly mocking. “Just because I'm a Kook doesn't mean I'd go around sleeping with every cute little Pogue girl just for kicks. I have standards, you know.”

You sigh, looking down. It seemed like a good deal; your secret would be kept, you would get a free meal, and you wouldn’t have to sleep with him. Your eyes meet his again before you nod slightly. “Fine. I’ll do it.”

Rafe's smirk widens, the smug look in his eyes only growing. “Atta girl,” he says, pushing off the counter and straightening himself up. “I knew you were smart enough to take a good deal when you see one. Let's say tomorrow, six o'clock. I'll pick you up here. Dress to impress.”

“Okay,” You say. “I’ll see you then.”

Rafe takes a moment to admire the sight of you behind the counter before he turns around, his hand pausing on the mosquito netting. “Oh, and one more thing,” he says, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Don't tell JJ or any of those loser Pogue friends about this, okay? I'm looking forward to having you all to myself for a night.”

You swallow hard when you feel something, warmth blossoming in the pit of your stomach. It renders you speechless for a second, and you have to shift in your seat and sit straight up before you find your voice again. “Okay. I can do that.”

Rafe watches the shifting in your seat, his gaze roaming over you for a brief moment as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. He steps through the mosquito netting, the smug look still on his face. “Good. See you tomorrow evening, sweetheart.”

He exits as quickly as he came in, the dock creaking as he departs. You let out a shaky breath, standing up, and you watch him through the windows as he leaves. You bite your head before shaking your head slightly. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell you just got yourself into.

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★taglist: @ietss, @momoewn, @blairsblg (italics means i couldn’t tag you!)

part two is here!

[moonpascal]

IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY

CHAPTER FOUR I series masterlist I wc: 3.4k

WARNINGS:

hurt/angst, lonelines, lots of dialogue

AUTHORS NOTE:

thank you to @amiableness my love as always gave me the encouragement i need for these things!

sorry for the long wait! i played hogwarts legacy for the first time and got sucked in. but it did help me with visioning locations and everything. hopefully chapter four was worth the wait (idk feels like a filler lol)

The past few days had been agonizingly unproductive since you realized the extent of your memory loss—entire chunks of the last year and a half simply gone. 

Hermione, stubborn as ever, refused to tell you what you were missing, no matter how much you begged. You knew she was hiding something, and it frustrated you to no end. These were your memories, after all—you had every right to know what had been erased.

The memory that played in the great hall never left you. You couldn’t be sure if it was a fragment of what was lost or just your mind playing tricks on you. Either way, it felt personal, too personal to share with her without knowing for certain if it was real.

But every time you tried to push through and remember more, it was as if a wall slammed down in your mind, sending a jarring, almost painful shock that stopped you cold. Why had this happened to you? Was it an accident, or had someone targeted you? The questions were maddening.

Caught in a loop of pacing and rubbing your temples in frustration, you accidentally kicked your trunk, sending the pile of jumpers and a tie sprawling across the floor. Huffing in annoyance, you bent down to fold them again, ignoring the nagging sense of familiarity they stirred. You were too irritated, too overwhelmed to connect it.

Just as you finished folding the last item, Grace walked in, looking thoroughly exhausted.

“Tough class?” you asked, trying to shift your focus.

She let out a small, tired laugh as she dropped her bag at the foot of her bed. “I wish. Just boys not taking no for an answer,” she sighed.

You shot her a sympathetic look, knowing the feeling all too well. “Wouldn’t happen to be a certain Slytherin whose clothes I keep tripping over, would it?” you teased, holding up the pile.

Grace gave you a sharp, confused look for a moment, and you worried you’d said the wrong thing. But then she forced a smile. “Right! That’s… um, exactly why he’s upset, but he really shouldn’t have left his closet in our dorm,” she said, a nervous edge to her voice.

“Serves him right,” you laughed, before glancing at the clothes again. “But on a serious note, could you possibly return these to him? Or maybe I should just throw them out? They’re taking up space, and I keep knocking them over.”

“Oh,” Grace said, eyes widening like she’d just been reminded of something important. She grabbed the pile from you a bit too quickly. “Of course! I’ll do that right now.”

Before you could protest or tell her she didn’t need to rush, she was already out the door, leaving you standing there, even more confused than before.

In her hurried state, she might have noticed the pesky tie that slipped off again. 

You knew you needed to study and catch up on your missing assignments, but any excuse to procrastinate sounded more appealing. Weighing your options for a brief moment, you grabbed the tie and left the room, hoping to catch up with her.

Exiting your out of the common room and bounding down the stairs, you guessed Grace was heading toward the Slytherin area.

Hopefully, you could catch her but luck wasn’t on your side—she was on a mission, and you didn’t spot her once as you made your way through the castle.

The dungeons weren’t a place you frequented, so you were surprised when you managed to navigate there on your first try. 

Upon arriving, you saw Theo trudging down the steps, the pile of clothes in his arms. You faltered, a strange pang coursing through you for reasons you couldn’t explain.

You considered a quick escape, but Theo called your name before you had a chance to move.

“What are you doing down here?” he asked, a touch of surprise in his voice. You didn’t have any classes together today, so it was unexpected to see you. He shifted the clothes under his arm, stepping closer.

“I tried to catch Grace—she dropped this,” you awkwardly gestured to the tie in your hand, “but I guess I found the culprit.”

Theo’s eyes widened at the implication, his heart sinking a bit. “No, these aren’t mine,” he quickly corrected.

You shot him a skeptical look. “So, you and Grace aren’t... involved?” you asked, waving your hand in a vague motion.

Theo scrunched his face in disgust, shaking his head. “No, never. She’s just a friend. She gave these to me to return to one of the guys.”

“Right,” you said, though still not entirely convinced. “Well, make sure he gets his tie back, too.” You draped it over the pile in his arms.

“Right, of course. Thank you for bringing it,” Theo smiled, and any doubt you had about him lying slowly drifted away. You found yourself staring at him, that smile triggering a flash of a memory—the same one from before.

Could it have been real? Theo seemed different now, kinder than you remembered. And how had you never noticed how... easy on the eyes he was?

“Woah, Tesoro, are you okay?” Theo’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, and you realized he had a hand on your shoulder and another gently cupping your cheek. The clothes he’d been holding were forgotten on the ground. 

His face was so close to yours that you instinctively took a step back, but the absence of his touch left you yearning.

“I’m sorry, what?” you said, dazed and confused, not fully processing why he was asking.

“Your nose—it’s bleeding. Let’s get you to sit down,” he said urgently, grabbing the tie and guiding you to a nearby bench. You almost tripped from how sudden it was.

“I’m fine, really, Theodore,” you insisted, brushing it off. “This is probably the fourth one today.” The moment the words left your mouth, you regretted it.

“Fourth?” His tone grew tense, his eyes full of concern. “Are they accompanied by anything else? Headaches? Nausea? Fainting spells?” He inspected you, wiping the blood from your upper lip with the now-ruined tie.

You shrugged, trying to seem unbothered. “Not all the time. I don’t think it’s that serious.”

Theo, however, looked far from reassured. “That’s not normal,” he muttered your name, his worry etched deeply into his face.

“Theo, really, I’m fine. Just a little tired,” you tried to comfort him, but his expression barely softened. Hearing you use his name, though, seemed to snap him back. He pulled back slightly, still visibly rattled. 

“Right, sorry,” he stammered, dropping his hands from you as if your touch burned him. 

“I appreciate the concern, though,” you said, genuinely touched by how much he seemed to care. A stark contrast from the Theo you were used to. “Could we talk later? I have this thing that I can’t seem to figure out.” 

He blinked, seemingly taken aback by your suggestion. In truth, you were a bit surprised by it yourself.

“I have Quidditch practice tonight, but how about tomorrow?” he offered, a bit nervously.

“Perfect,” you grinned. “See you tomorrow then, Theodore.”

He smiled in return, and for a moment, you found yourself wanting to stay and just stare at him. Another part of you still hesitated, wary of his past actions and the memories you couldn’t access. But maybe he had the answers. 

You watched him walk away, a slight spring in his step as he bent to pick up the discarded clothes. He disappeared into the Slytherin common room, the snake door sliding shut. The sight surprisingly comforted you. 

You sat for a moment before finally rising from the bench and starting the walk back to your common room. Your mind was a tangled mix of questions, emotions, and fleeting familiarities that refused to come into focus. It felt like your brain was in overdrive, struggling to fill in blanks without knowing where to start.

The walk back to your dorm felt like a blur, your mind racing with thoughts of how to piece together the gaps in your memory. You needed answers, but the trio seemed determined to keep you out of the loop, offering vague reassurances that only deepened your frustration.

You hated the way they looked at you—like you were fragile, something to be handled with care. It made you feel small, like you weren’t capable of understanding your own situation. The growing silence around what was happening to you was suffocating, and your dorm had become the only place where you didn’t feel on edge.

As you spotted Harry ahead in the corridor, you sped up, determined to find a distraction from the overwhelming pressure of your missing memories. You bumped him lightly with your shoulder, forcing a smile. “Hey, stranger. Haven’t seen you in a while. Want to sneak off to Hogsmeade?”

Harry hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. “Trouble, I would, really, but I’ve got Quidditch practice tonight.”

Your smile faltered, a flicker of confusion crossing your face. If Slytherin had practice, there was no way Gryffindor did too. The rivalry between the two houses was so intense they could barely play fair in an actual game, let alone share the pitch for practice. You opened your mouth to question him, but Harry quickly cut you off.

“Tomorrow, yeah? We can go then. It’s Saturday, so no sneaking required.” Giving you an awkward smile. 

“Right. Tomorrow.” You nodded, but the unease gnawed at you. First Theo, now Harry. The feeling of being lied to—it stung more than you wanted to admit. Harry never hid things from you before, and Theo—well, you didn’t know him well enough to judge, but it still hurt.

You turned away before Harry could say more, heading in the opposite of his direction- mind you was not towards the pitch. 

When you finally reached your dorm and shut the door behind you, the quiet hit you hard. Alone again, the weight of the past few days crashed down. You dropped onto your bed, letting out a shaky breath. The frustration, confusion, and hurt welled up, but you couldn’t bring yourself to cry. You just lay there, staring at the ceiling, feeling more isolated than ever.

No one was being honest with you. They were keeping you at arm’s length, treating you like you couldn’t handle the truth. You were left to fend for yourself, with only half the pieces to a puzzle that seemed impossible to solve. You felt pushed aside, only to be dealt with when it was convenient.

It hurt more than you wanted to admit, and the pity party you were throwing yourself was, for the moment, the only thing that felt comforting.

“Fridays, we’ll go to the Astronomy Tower at midnight. It’ll be our thing.”

The words jolted you awake. You blinked, disoriented, scanning the dark room. The moonlight filtered in softly, casting long shadows. You rubbed your eyes and looked around, hoping to find the source of the voice, but the room was silent. Your roommates’ curtains were drawn, and their steady breathing filled the space.

You lay back, trying to make sense of what you’d heard. Maybe it was a dream. Or maybe, another memory trying to break through the haze?

After tossing and turning for what felt like an eternity, it became clear you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep. Frustrated, you sighed and threw off the covers, slipping on your shoes. Before you knew it, you were out the door, your curiosity leading you through the corridors.

You tiptoed through the common room, careful not to wake anyone. Without Harry’s cloak, you had to rely on the disillusionment spell to stay hidden, but you knew it wasn’t foolproof. 

You navigated the quiet halls, turning corners and climbing staircases with no real sense of direction, yet somehow you felt like you were being pulled somewhere—guided by the echo of those words.

Soon enough, you found yourself at the base of the Astronomy Tower. You hesitated for a moment, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu before your feet carried you up the winding staircase. The ascent felt both familiar and foreign, like a path you had walked countless times. It felt like your body was moving on its own, like it knew something your mind hadn’t caught up to yet.

When you finally reached the top, you paused. The silence of the tower wrapped around you, and with a quiet exhale, you removed the disillusionment spell, standing under the vast, starry sky.

The silence was broken by a cough, jolting you from your thoughts. You nearly screamed, spinning around to see Theo sitting against the railing, watching you with curious eyes.

“Merlin! Theodore, you scared me!” you hissed, clutching your chest as your heart pounded.

“Sorry,” he chuckled, clearly finding your reaction amusing. You glared at him, but he just smiled.

“What are you doing up here?” you asked, exasperated as you stepped closer to where he was sitting.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he smirked. The teasing tone was so typical of him, and despite everything, it brought you some comfort.

You rolled your eyes. “Needed some air. And you?”

“Something like that,” he shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette between his fingers.

“You know those things will kill you, right?” you said, deciding to sit down next to him. You tucked your legs beneath you, resting your back against the railing.

“I’ve heard,” he replied, exhaling the smoke away from you before flicking the cigarette to the ground and crushing it with his foot.

You bit your tongue, resisting the urge to lecture him about the littering. “Maybe you should take their advice.”

He chuckled softly humming in response, leaning his head back against the railing, eyes closed. For a moment, neither of you spoke. Strangely, you felt more at ease up here with him than you had in days.

With his eyes closed, you stole a glance at his face—the messy hair, the moles dotting his skin, and those lips… You quickly looked away, mentally scolding yourself.

“So,” he said, grabbing your attention. His gaze so focused it made you avert your eyes again, “what really brought you up here?”

“I’m… not sure,” you admitted, fidgeting with the fraying edge of your skirt. “I thought I heard a voice, but it could’ve been a dream. It said something about Astronomy Tower at midnight, and I got curious.”

You noticed Theo’s jaw clench briefly before relaxing again, making you frown slightly. “And you?” you asked, trying to redirect the conversation.

“Just needed some quiet,” he said, hesitating for a moment. “But… what was it you wanted to talk about earlier?”

You had nearly forgotten about that. Now that he asked, the words seemed to stick in your throat. You wanted to say you could wait, let him have his moment of peace, but you needed answers.

“Oh, right,” you sighed, unsure of where to start. “I’m not sure how to explain it.”

“Take your time,” Theo reassured, his voice soft, and you were grateful to see no judgment in his eyes.

You took a shaky breath, trying to gather your thoughts. It was hard to know where to even begin.

“Long story short, I lost a chunk of my memories,” you started, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “And the other day, I think I had a flashback of one… with you?”

Theo immediately straightened himself, his attention fully locked on you.

“I was—um, what was your memory about?” he asked, his voice a little shaky as if he was trying to stay calm, but you could sense a bit of hope behind his eyes.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, giving him a serious look, though a faint smile tugged at your lips. “We were in the Forbidden Forest, I think. I was upset about a letter, and you came along, and we… burned it. Does that sound familiar at all?” You searched his face, praying that this wasn’t just your imagination playing tricks on you.

Theo’s expression tightened, his brow furrowing as if he was choosing his next words very carefully. He looked torn, like saying the wrong thing might somehow hurt you more.

“It’s just… we only had our first conversation a few days ago, right?” you added, trying to lighten the mood despite the tension.

He grimaced slightly, rubbing his eyes. “No,” he sighed, his voice heavy. “That was a memory. That night in the Forbidden Forest—that was the first time we really talked. I was out there trying to clear my head, had a lot going on, and then I heard you. You were crying. I didn’t expect to find you out there.”

“Have we… had more conversations since that night?” you asked cautiously, feeling a strange mix of relief and confusion.

Theo hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Yeah, we did.” 

“Could you tell me more? Did we hang out after that? Were we friends or just acquaintances? I just feel so lost and confused. You confirming this is the first bit of clarity I’ve had in days,” your voice cracked, the weight of everything you’d been carrying finally slipping through.

Theo’s face shifted, a mixture of pain and hesitation crossing his features. He looked away briefly, his hands gripping the railing beside him. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, careful. “I wish I could tell you everything… I really do.”

He paused, glancing at you before continuing. “But… it’s not that simple.”

Your heart sank at his words, a mix of frustration and sadness settling in your chest. “Why? What’s stopping you?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me. We just don’t know what could happen if we sprung all this information onto you, how the spell or you would react if we try to fill in all the gaps. I mean you’re already having nosebleeds and intense migraines from no one even saying anything. If we push too hard, it could make things worse.”

Theo’s voice softened as he continued. “I just don’t want to hurt you more than you’re already hurting.” His eyes searched yours, hoping you’d understand.

You looked away, the sting of disappointment dulling the relief you’d felt just moments ago. “But I need to know, Theo. I can’t keep living like this, with these blanks and half-truths. Everyone’s treating me like I’m fragile, like I’ll shatter if they say the wrong thing.” Your voice trembled, a mix of anger and helplessness rising to the surface.

Theo shifted closer, his hand hovering just above yours before he hesitated and withdrew. “I get it,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “But trust me when I say this—it’s not that we’re all in on some secret without you. We’re just… trying to keep you safe.”

The vulnerability in his eyes made your heart ache. You could see the struggle there, the pull between wanting to protect you and the desire to be honest. He wasn’t just holding back for the sake of secrecy—it was out of concern for you.

“Safe from what?” you asked, your voice thick with emotion. “I feel more trapped than safe. Like I’m stuck behind this wall, and everyone’s watching me struggle without actually helping.”

Theo exhaled, his brow furrowing as he searched for the right words. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but we’re doing the best we can. It’s not that we don’t want to tell you—it’s that we don’t know what’ll happen if we do.”

You bit your lip, feeling that familiar swell of frustration rise again. “So I’m just supposed to wait? Until what? Until my memories come back on their own? What if they never do?”

Theo breath stutters and he hesitates. He’s tried his best not to think of that possibility, that you’ll come back to him and this in time would be a funny memory. “I don’t have all the answers. But you’re not alone in this, okay? Even if it feels like it.” 

You wanted to believe him. Despite everything, you could sense that Theo genuinely cared, even if he couldn’t give you the answers you desperately sought. You looked at him, your chest tightening with the mix of anger and sadness swirling inside you. “I just wish I knew what I was missing.”

Theo nodded slowly, his eyes heavy with the weight of things left unsaid. “When the time comes, I’ll tell you everything. I promise.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. The cool night air seemed to press down, the weight of your shared secrets hanging in the space between you.

Finally, you nodded, feeling a small sense of comfort in Theo’s promise, even if it couldn’t give you what you needed right now.

If you enjoyed, please please reblog or comment! Your words keep me motivated to write and make me so happy <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[starkeygirlposts]

Goosebumps in my Sleeve V

This chapter has been a labor of love. I feel so lacking in creativity, but yet writing is all I can think about! Once I sit down to write, my mind goes blank. Anyway, this chapter is a little all over the place but I wanted to delve into some other topics/scenes from the timeline. I hope you enjoy this one! Please beware that this is NOT proof read and most likely contains several errors. I will eventually get around to proof reading it. Summary: You've been dating Rafe Cameron for 3 years, and one day Ward and your mom tell you they're getting married.

Pairings: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader Trigger warnings: angst, stepcest, drugs, swearing, pregnancy, smut(a whole drawer of warnings), discussion of suicide, swearing, domestic violence, mama and daddy kink, breeding kink, mention of abortion, talk of death and killing, idk what else lol 18+ mdni

SERIES MASTERLIST

THEN

To say that Rafe got possessive once you found out you were pregnant would be an understatement. Nothing you did was okay with him if he didn’t know about it first. No schedule change or unpredictable plans were allowed to be made without an argument ensuing and a slew of angry texts and missed calls.

You’d try telling him that you needed to keep everything normal and the same as it was before so to not draw any unnecessary attention to the two of you and your situation. But he’d tell you he "didn’t give a fuck”, and “that’s my kid you’ve got in there so you tell me this kind of shit.”

More times than not you’d wonder if you’d only become an incubator for his precious cargo. Whether or not he cared solely about the baby under your heart or also about its mother. So when you go grab tacos with two of your closest friends, you finally lose it when Rafe blows up your phone wondering where you are and why you didn’t tell him you wouldn’t be home. You’d left the house at 6:30, not knowing where Rafe was or when he would be home. Maybe it’s the sinking feeling in his gut when he silently opens your door to find your bedroom empty, his mind racing to the worse case scenario, or maybe it’s the demon buried deep inside of him needing to control your every move.

Your sat at the table at your favorite Mexican restaurant not even five minutes from tanneyhill, chip half dipped into the bowl of guacamole when your phone chimes. The conversation between the three of you halts, and you wave your hand, telling them to continue as you flip your phone over, already knowing who the alert was from. You try to keep a straight face as you read the message.

7:02PM Rafe: Where are you?

You look it over, re reading it three times before debating sending a simple reply, instead deciding to push the power button and set it back down on the table, flipping the silent switch before you do so.

You don’t exactly know why you don’t want to answer, as if the reply takes too much energy. But the two things that come to your mind first is that you not only feel suffocated, but you want to forget for just a moment.

Then at 7:08 he calls you. You obviously don’t answer.

7:08PM Rafe: This again?

2 more missed calls.

7:12PM Rafe: Am I really that shitty of a boyfriend that you don't even want to answer me?

7:15PM Rafe: You’re testing me aren’t you? Why?

7:19PM Rafe: You know I can see where you are right? You’re sharing your location with me.

You stopped sharing your location with Rafe.

7:21PM Rafe: Are you fucking kidding me? I swear to god I will show up there in 5 minutes and drag your ass out of there. Turn your location back on. I’m putting my shoes on right now.

You started sharing your location with Rafe.

7:22PM Rafe: So you can read all my messages and turn your location off and on but you can’t reply?

7:23PM You: I’m with my friends. Girl friends. I’ll text you when I’m leaving.

7:24PM Rafe: Yeah but that doesn’t work for me. I want you here now so wrap it up. If you need me to get you let me know.

You can’t help but scoff, raising your eyebrows which elicits a question from one of your friends asking you who’s texting you. You put your phone in your purse and try to forget about Rafe’s overbearing for an hour with your friends. Casually, you tell her it’s your mom going off about you not telling her you wouldn’t be home for dinner like you’re 14 years old. But when not even fifteen minutes go by and your friends are sat across from you looking over your head at what’s behind you, you ball your fists and finish the last sip of your drink before relaxing in your seat. You almost wish you would’ve just told them the truth. You can see the confusion on their faces as they blink from above you to eye level with you.

You can feel him next to you, but you pretend you don’t. Your friends mutter a confused “Hey Rafe…” before he’s bending down to your level to look at you. Reluctantly, you turn your head to look back at him and his brows shoot up. He silently places a $100 bill on the table and calmly tells you “Let’s go, we’re leaving."

You make the mistake of rolling your eyes, looking back to your friends.

“My friends said hello, Rafe. Why don’t you say hi?” You briefly look to both of your friends, hoping your gaze offers a silent apology.

He straightens back up, pulling your chair out for you. You finally look up at him, his eyes still locked on you as you now meet them with yours. “We haven’t even ordered dinner. I’ll be home in an hour.” You try to tell him, but he’s got your bag in his hand and his hand wraps around your upper arm, pulling you to your feet. His lips are next to your ear, hot breath casting a wind across your neck.

“Do not make a scene here. We’re leaving. Say goodbye.” He tells you, and you look back at him once more before looking down at your friends and telling them that your mom made your favorite and you’d rather avoid a blowout. The girls nod skeptically, looking at you and then at each other and then back to you.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll text you.” You tell them simply, before Rafe is tugging you to walk in front of him. His hand finds your lower back to guide you out of the restaurant and your phone vibrates in your hand. You glance down at it to see the name of you and your friends group chat pop up in your notifications. It reads a simple question.

“Are you okay?”

You take a deep breath, as deep as you can as you walk to Rafe’s truck before you type out a quick reply.

“Totally fine, so sorry. My mom’s been a maniac she Rafe’s just trying to avoid another explosion. I’m actually grateful lol"

Both girls love the message, and you quickly slip it into the pocket of your jeans as his arm leaves your back to open the door of the truck for you. You look back at him and he raises his brows, thrusting his hand forward for you to get in. You huff and relent, grabbing the inside handle and climb in.

You scoff and shake your head, pissed and upset as he climbs into the drivers side. He starts the engine and pulls into the street, not saying a word to you so you take the silence as an opportunity.

You don’t think before you speak, and you regret it instantly.

“Maybe I should’ve had an abortion."

The words fly out faster than you mean for them to, your tone dripping venom as you look ahead at the lit up road, totally vacant. He doesn’t respond, and you look next to you to him, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles are white. His brows are furrowed and his lip is curled in disgust. You know he heard you when he cocks his head and swerves the truck violently into the shoulder.

“What the fuck did you just say?” His tone drips with hatred, his head cocked but keeps his gaze straight ahead. You’re watching him, turning your body fully in your seat. You wonder for a brief moment if you should grovel, mumble out a quick “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” But for the briefest moment you wonder if you actually did…

“No…no, no. Say that again. Say it, I dare you.” He says darkly, finally turning his head to look at you. Your eyes connect and he’s staring at you so deeply you wonder if he can see the turning of your insides.

You’re silent, and his eyes squint like he’s trying to see better.

“Come on baby say it. Say it again. I want to hear you say that shit to me again.” You flinch when his hand jets out to grip the back of your neck harshly, and you cry out in surprise, muttering a “Rafe, stop.” before he’s dragging you closer to him, your belly jutting into the console. His nose presses against yours and he shakes your head as if to wake you up.

“Did you actually fucking say that? About my baby? Wish you would’ve done it, huh? You hate me that much?” He’s seething, seeing nothing but red, glitter sparkling his vision as he tries to focus on you. You try your best to pull your head back, but it’s no use as his grip is strong on your neck keeping you pressed to him. The bow breaks and you can’t help but shout;

“I don’t know, do you hate me that much?! It’s so fucking hard to tell!” Before you continue, his head cocks, his cheek meeting you nose as he takes a deep breath and laughs humorlessly.

“What the fuck? What are you talking about? Are you okay? I mean shit I know hor-"

You cut him off, pushing him back with your hands on his chest to be able to look at him.

“No Rafe! I’m not fucking okay! Thank you for finally asking! Why did you have to ruin tonight for me? Why wasn’t I allowed to get dinner with my friends? Five fucking minutes away from our house? Did you see any guys there? Any drugs on the table? Any alcohol? I didn’t even get to eat dinner! But because I’m having your baby it doesn’t matter right?"

He scoffs and furrows his brows in confusion, trying to get a word in but you slap him instead. His cheek burns, his lips parted in shock as he looks at you and rubs the mark. He shuts his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at you with intent. Your chest heaves and your hand goes to cover his on his cheek and you can’t help but mumble a “sorry…I -"

He cuts you off, hand leaving his face to grip yours.

“I am fucking terrified, okay? Aren’t you? You’re not — you don't get it! Baby you don’t fucking get it. Listen to me…no, listen to me!” You try to wrangle your head out of his grip, but both hands reach over to grab both of your cheeks between his hands, forcing you to look at him. His pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and his nostrils flared.

“Look at me, you remember that night don’t you? I know you do. Look at me and tell me. Do you mean it? You wish you aborted the baby?” He asks you this rhetorically, but maybe you really do wish you’d just done what Ward told you to. You take a deep breath and fight the tears that threaten to spill over, and they do when you clench your lids closed in regret. Your hand subconsciously drifts to your middle and you shake your head in Rafe’s hands.

“Say it, I need to hear you say it.” His voice is soft now, coaxing you to open your eyes and when you do, he’s ducked his head to look as close at you as he can and you quietly say “No.” He silently nods his head once, and you can’t help the tears that fall down your cheeks and over his fingers.

You’re still shaking your head and you tell him again. “No, no I shouldn’t have…I didn’t mean it. I want her.” You tell him honestly and you see him smile for the first time in so long and he leans down to kiss you, pecking your lips deeply. Your body is rigid against his, sobs shaking your form as you say again “I didn’t mean it.”

“I know, I know you didn’t baby, it’s okay, I know.” He tells you like he’s comforting a child. “I need you to hear me right now, okay?” He asks, serious, pulling away from you to bring your head up to meet his gaze.

“I paid people so you’d get to keep the baby. My father will pay people so that we can’t. Whether that’s right back where we were, or ripping her from your arms. Tell me you understand that. You are not safe. We are not safe.” He says, shaking his head.

You look at him, silent for a moment, and your mind betrays you. You allow yourself to imagine the moment your baby comes out of you and instead of Rafe there, it’s Ward. And instead of your slimy baby being placed on your bare chest, they’re whisked away from you without any words exchanged.

Your hands absentmindedly find Rafe’s forearms that are still holding your face in his hands and you mutter a small “I understand."

“Yeah?” He asks you, and you nod and tell him again that you understand.

“Don’t bring me back there tonight, I - I can’t go back there right now.” You softly say, your mind mushy and your emotions ruined.

You see him nodding, and he calls Topper, asking him if you can use his pool house.

Next thing you know you’re pulling into Top’s driveway, his parents away on vacation and it’s probably the only reason Rafe came here rather than paying for a hotel room.

When you get inside, and the blinds are drawn, you settle on the edge of the made bed having kicked off your shoes and unhooked your bra. You’re watching him pace around to make sure the windows are locked and covered well enough, and when you assume he’s satisfied with the barricade, he finally looks at you. You and all your messy glory. But you’ve shed your pullover and now you’re just in a thin tank top, your bra removed and he looks down to your bump. It’s more prominent, unable to be hidden in regular clothes, and he laughs when he sees the makeshift hair tie closure on your jeans.

You can’t remember the last time you heard him actually laugh. Not laugh without humor, not scoff, but actually laugh with genuine joy. You can’t help but smile with him as he closes the space between you, brushing your hair back from your face and tipping it back so you can meet his eyes.

“Getting bigger, huh?” He asks, still smiling and you nod, hand resting on the biggest part of your belly. At 14 weeks, you were unable to wear most of your clothes, save for 2 pairs of jeans that still closed with a makeshift tie, and some oversized tops and sweaters. You were afraid that you were approaching the point where wearing sweaters in the heat of summer would raise suspicions. You mumble a quiet “mhm”. Your other hand drifts down to said makeshift tie to undo it, freeing your lower belly from the restriction. You shift so you can wiggle them down and over your hips, Rafe watching your movements. You move to stand in front of him and tug the denim all the way down to your knees, allowing them to slide the rest of the way off and kick them off with your feet. His hands drift down your neck, over your arms, to your hands and he grips them, bringing each up to his mouth to kiss each palm while watching you.

You’re watching him back, eyes glued to his as he presses slow, open mouthes kisses up your arm until he drops them and palms your lower back with one hand while the other cups your neck to tilt your head up so that he can crane his neck and press his lips to yours. It feels like too long since you’ve been kissed like this by him, your shoulders slumping in relief as his tongue slips past your lips to flick against yours.

You’re putty in his hands, kissing him back as eagerly as you can while your hormones rage and your emotions are tangled. Your hands rub up his back and around to his biceps, falling down to his elbows where your hands cup, trying to pull him closer to you.

As he takes a breath, you pull your head back to speak.

“You’re gonna love her more than me, aren’t you?” You ask shyly, unable to look at him when you ask, your hands falling away from his body to find the edge of the mattress, lowering your body down to sit.

You don’t see the furrow in his brow as he looks at you confused, his fingers reaching out to tuck your hair behind your ear as he cradles your chin in his palm. He moves to his knees before you, and you allow yourself to look at him as he does, looking at you with worry.

“Why would you say that? Gonna love ‘em just as much as I love you.” He tells you, trying to say the right thing. Truth be told, he did love the baby inside of you more deeply than he understood. But wasn’t that normal? Wasn’t he supposed to? Did he love the baby more than he loved you? How was that even possible?

“There wouldn’t be any baby in there if I didn’t love you as much as I do.” He tells you softly, and you nod in acceptance.

“Not just a way for you to continue your legacy?” You ask quietly and now he’s truly confused. He tells you to look at him, and you do.

“I’m gonna tell you this because I don’t want to hear any stupid shit like this again. M’kay?” He asks you, and you nod.

“If we didn’t make her, I don’t think I’d still be here right now.” Now its your brow furrowing, and your hands move to grip his, cautiously asking him what he means. He takes a deep breath and flutters his eyes closed like he’s ashamed.

“You know what I mean, baby. Don’t make me say it. Can’t live without you...you know that.” He tells you honestly and the tear that falls from his eye as he looks at you through saggy lids tell you everything you need to know.

You gasp without meaning to, and you can’t help the guilt brewing in your gut. The idea of a world without Rafe in it makes you want to throw up, your hands gripping his like a vice, and you beg him to never say that again.

“I can’t…I couldn’t do this without you.” You tell him, tears threatening to fall and he pulls you to him to cradle your head under his.

“You don’t have to. I’m here.” He says simply, pulling back just enough to lower his head and kiss you again, his lips soft and hesitant against yours like he’s asking permission, and you lean back on the bed in approval, relenting and his hands snake up to your bottom, fingers squeezing to drag you further up the bed, settling on his knees in between yours.

Your lips find a pace against his, allowing him to find clarity in your movements. Your hips mindlessly buck up against his and he breaks away from your lips to run a hand down the valley of your breasts down below your belly to the hem of your tank, pulling it up and over your head to leave you bare except for your panties that remain the only barrier he can’t see past.

Your chest is heaving, watching him hover above you, and your hands find their way to the hem of his own shirt, tugging on it trying to lift it but needing his help and he chuckles, pulling the shirt off from behind his head, throwing it to the growing pile of your clothing on the floor.

He watches your face as he drags his fingers past the top of your panties to use the tip of his pointer finger to brush down the middle of your panties, the pressure against your clit making you arch up off the bed to gain friction. You moan his name and look down at him. He’s leaning back on his calves, shirtless and watching you squirm in need of more.

“What is it baby?” He teases, cocking his head while he watches you in fascination, his fingers ghosting over your clothed slit, and you nearly cry in frustration. “Please don’t tease me, Rafe.” You groan, using your feet to try to tug him closer to you. But he tuts and tells you to “Relax”.

“Mama’s needy huh?” He croons, watching your expressions with lust, finally using his fingers to tug the crotch of your panties to the side so he can rub your cunt properly.

You throw your head back with a “yes!” falling from your lips. He uses his pointer finger to push inside of your gummy walls, his thumb coming to rub firm circles on your clit, the pressure tightening the knot inside of your gut. He adds his middle finger inside of you, curling his fingers upward to push at the spongey spot inside of you, knowing your body so well.

His other hand comes up to rest on the swell of your belly, your hand instinctively covering his and lacing your fingers through his. His fingers thrust in and out of you at a rapid speed, your hips bucking up off the bed when you’re about to snap. “Gonna make me cum Rafe!” You squeal, pushing out to feel yourself gush around his fingers, pushing up on your elbows to watch him. He’s watching his fingers fuck in and out of you, the wet squelch of you taking him in over and over. You collapse back against the soft mattress again after your chest stops heaving.

Rafe’s fingers leave your core and you can’t help the frustrated grunt that leaves your lips without intent. He climbs off the bed to unbuckle his jeans and push them down his hips to the floor, his boxers going with them. You lean up on your elbows again, watching him with hooded lids, heavy with bliss as he climbs back between your legs, using his palms to trail up your calves and behind your knees to press them into your chest, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

“Such a pretty mama, doing so good for me baby. You ready for my cock?” He asks sweetly, trailing kisses down your cheek to your jaw and finally locks his lips with yours and pulls back to look at you. You nod at him meekly, looking up into his eyes and he tell you to “Use your words, pretty girl."

“Yes, yes please, need your cock. Please fuck me Rafe.” You ask with confidence, chasing his lips with your own, craving the contact. His hands tighten on the backs of your knees, almost folding you too tight. He’s careful not to rest himself on your belly, though. He locks his lips on yours as he lines himself up with your cunt, but collects your wetness on his mushroom tip as he lets go of one knee to guide himself up and down your slit before guiding himself inside you in one smooth thrust. He stills when he’s buried all the way inside and your mouth falls open in a sharp cry.

“Oh, fuck…so fucking deep. Oh my godddd”. You whine, craning your neck up to press your forehead to his, his bangs hanging in your eyes. He pulls back to rest on the backs of his calves, using both hands to once again press your knees beside you in a mating press and tells you to look down at yourself.

“Look how good your pretty pussy swallows me baby. She takes me so well. Shiitttt” You whine in defeat, trying to drift your eyes downward, but at this angle flat on your back, you realize your belly is too large to see past. You huff in defeat and tell him “can’t see, rafe…tummy's too big.”

Something snaps inside of him and he hastily brings a hand behind your neck to grab a fistful of hair from the back of your neck to crane your neck up at an uncomfy angle, and you try thrusting your head back, but he stuffs a pillow behind you instead, tugging your head up farther. “Look down baby. Look at yourself dirty girl. Watch daddy fuck you.” You whine a moan at the name he gives himself and you look down again with the pillow behind you, watching as his cock drags slowly out of you, shiny with your slick before disappearing again. It’s painfully slow and you groan out.

“Fuck, Rafe…so deep, hurts so goooood.” You whine out, hands finding his forearms to steady yourself. The pressure he’s building inside of you is becoming too much and you can’t help but clench around him. He feels it and chuckles, leaning down to breathe against your lips. “Noooooo baby, don’t do that. You can take it, you’re doing so good baby girl don’t push me out.” He’s speaking to you in a higher pitch like he’s coaching you through it, continuing "Just…fucking…take it” punctuating with each thrust his long cock makes inside you, bruising your cervix over and over. You whimper at his words, your nails digging half moons into his skin and you can’t help the mewls and whines that pour out of your mouth.

He starts to fuck into you at a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours with lewd wet sounds, white cream forming around the base of his shaft as his sock leaks seed into you. “Fuck baby, m’gonna cum…need you to cum too. Can you cum for me?” He asks, lightly tapping your cheek with his hand, too fucked out to hold his stare. You look back down to where he’s disappearing inside your body, his thumb now rubbing your pearl and you clench around him before letting go, pushing out again and gushing around him. He groans and paints the inside of you with his seed, mouth agape with curses and moans pouring out like music to your ears. Hearing Rafe cum was one of your favorite moments together. Getting to hear how blissed out he was to be with you. How you were the one who made him fall over the edge.

He’s breathing heavily, hot breath fanning over your face as he all but collapses on top of you, pressing sloppy kisses to your neck and up to your ear lobe where he nibbles and whispers; “I love you so god damn much baby. Don’t ever wanna hear you question it again, kay?” His voice is lazy and groggy, but you nod eagerly and crane your neck so he’ll look at you.

You’re searching his eyes, finally telling him that “I love you…and I love her too.”

----

NOW

Rafe’s hand on your belly moves to leave your skin but the hand resting atop his keeps it where it is. You break your stare with Sarah to look over to him, his eyes trained on the road but you see the clench in his jaw and cringe on his face, his nose scrunched in revolt at having to listen to you describe that night to his sister.

Your other hand snakes around the back of his neck to cradle the cheek that faces the truck window and you lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder to press a gentle kiss his neck. You know how hard it is for him to relive one of the worst nights of his life, knowing that somewhere inside of him almost believes that it was real.

“I’m sorry.” You mouth against his neck and bring your cheek back down to rest on his shoulder.

Your eyes flutter closed before quietly saying “I think I’ve shared enough.” Before opening your eyes again and locking them with Sarah’s, her head nodding briefly and you can see the tears brimming her bottom lids.

It’s a sick thing to talk about, you know you’ve overshared, but it’s reality for you, Rafe and the little girl underneath your hands. It was the only way to really allow her to understand any of this. It’s hard to still give a shit about other people, but you think salvaging an aunt for your daughter isn’t beyond reach. So you’re trying. Whether that’s okay with Rafe or not.

His voice jolts you suddenly. annoyed and tired. “How much longer am I driving here, Sarah?” He asks while keeping his gaze ahead. She nervously fumbles her phone, stuttering with nerves, you watch her hands tremble as she turns her phone upside down and tap it back open. “U-Uhhh, it’s just straight ahead for another mile and then you’re turning left.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her answer, instead following John B’s tail closer, clearly antsy. He huffs out a breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.

“Y/N and I are going to the Bahamas after your friends load the cross into that piece of shit. I need you to keep dad occupied until tomorrow.” He’s curt and to the point, looking over at her briefly, Sarah nodding once and saying “Yeah, yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You wonder if you’ve traumatized her, dragged her into your fucked up reality. How could you not have? It was not an easy pill to swallow knowing her father truly was a monster. You think that up until now she thought that family was above all else to him and that he’d prioritize herself and her siblings above all else. You’re a little bit sorry you had to be the one to crush that idealization.

Sarah’s telling him to turn left and as he does, suddenly questioning “Hey Sarah?” almost innocently. You look up at him in wonder. You couldn’t have guessed what came from him next.

Sarah hums as he asks almost petulantly; “You think dad would ever make you kill your kid?” He turns his head to look at her and she looks back at him sharply, sucking a breath between her teeth, taken aback. Your own head flies to look at him and you can’t help but rush his name out of your lips in a scold, and you tense, stomach clenching in unease, shocked tears forming in her eyes and she finally shakes her head. It’s a trap question - that you’re smart enough to know and you know she is too. He doesn’t expect an answer. Because he knows that she knows the answer and that he knows it all the same.

No. Ward would never. And that’s why he wrapped his hands around her neck that night and shoved her underwater. Ward seemingly took away his little girl, so he’d take his away, too.

You wince and it hits you hard that your daughter will not be having a relationship with her aunt. Not if her dad can help it. The hatred he feels for his own sister stems so deep inside of him that allowing the idea of his child to grow to love someone he so deeply hates makes him sick. He will not allow his own flesh and blood the chance to be rejected by her like he had been his entire life.

It was his way of telling you without telling you that no - Sarah would not remain in your life and more importantly, your daughters.

For the first time, you have no rebuttal. Because you finally understand how deep the betrayal and loyalties lie, and there was no way to explain it away or reason differently. And for the first time, you're okay with the outcome.

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See y’all soon!

[solbaby7]

S.M.O

pairing: azriel x reader

part 6 of the shy!reader massage mini-series

[ loosely based off the song Slut Me Out by NLE Choppa ]

warnings: sexual themes, jealous!az, swearing, possible typos, (idk dude🤷🏽‍♀️ I can’t help that I like men who feed into my daddy issues and Az just gives every time)

summary: Azriel’s offended to have been left out of the fun—however will you make it up to him?

[ previous part ]

—

Needy. Greedy. Sneaky, little shadows.

Silently creeping up on you while you’re distracted with the piles and piles of paperwork Rhysand had been attempting to make a dent in for weeks. But after complaining of the words blurring together and none of it making sense anymore, you’d sent him off with Cass to go blow off some steam.

You’re dipping a quill in ink when you feel it brush against your toes; a cool caress climbing the length of your leg in a barely there touch that sent goosebumps across your skin. “Why are you still awake?”

Azriel’s still in his leathers, the top few laces of his shirt is completely loose and you’re quick to pick up on the clench of his jaw—the flexing of his hands at his sides that were still wrapped in thick bandages to protect his knuckles from the hours spent before the punching bags. “I was helping Rhys with some paperwork while he’s out.” The crackle of the fire fills the silence for a few beats of time before you turn to give him your full attention. “Is something wrong?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” Your head tilts to the side, a crinkle of your brow and Azriel seems—restless. Agitated. He makes a bee-line for the bar cart pushed by the corner of the room next to the window. It’s cracked open, a cool breeze sifting through the thin fabric of your clothes. “About me.”

You lean forward in the seat, elbows resting on your knees as you watch him fill a glass halfway and knock it back in two gulps. “I don’t think I understand.”

“Is something wrong with me?”

It makes your spine straighten, a clipped laugh pulling free but it fades off when you realize he’s being serious. Standing there, perched against the window with the glass freshly filled and there’s a look in rich eyes; something tortured and devastating that’s hard to definitively place. “Of course not. Why would you even ask me that?” Full lips part to answer but Az shakes it off with a scoff, nose obscured by the rim of his glass but the tension in broad shoulders is unmistakable. “Have I done something to make you feel that way?”

One full minute passes before he speaks again, voice much lower—much less confident and it makes your chest ache to hear him so soft spoken. “Cassian told me about what happened the other night. With you, him and Rhys.”

“Oh.” You shift in place, hands nervously toying with the ends of your hair, nails picking at chipped polish and dry cuticles. You pray the firelight masks the red tint that smatters across the apples of your cheeks. “And that upset you?”

He scoffs, finishing the glass and setting it down so firmly it chips. You don’t dare mention it, taking note of the restraint he was already exhibiting by creating so much distance, doing his best to keep his hands occupied before he scaled the length of the room and ripped that oversized shirt clean off your frame. “It didn’t upset me,” Azriel runs a hand through messy locks, sneering at the bandage that catches in the strands and rips it off so forcefully it breaks in two. “I have no formal claim over you—not like Rhys, but I had assumed that if something like that were to ever happen that…” Az’s shoulders slump, a vulnerability washing over his gaze that had you moving to stand. “I thought that you would’ve asked me to be there too.”

The concern melts away and a slow smile begins to form at the corner of kissable lips, voice as soft as the first few strings on a freshly tuned violin. “Az,” The way you say it forces him to look away in shame; embarrassment burning beneath his skin when his words replay in his mind and if it weren’t for your hand cupping his cheek, he probably would’ve winnowed away. “Are you jealous?”

“I don’t have a right to be.”

Maybe it’s because of how irked he truly looked, hands fidgeting and strong facial features scrunched up that prompted your touch to glide from his cheeks down to the strong planes of his chest. You can feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm and the cool touch of his shadows dancing through the strands of your unbound hair. “Don’t you though?” Lower and lower your hand goes, familiar ridges of hard muscle taunts you beneath intricately made fighting gear and something about the shiny daggers tucked at his hips has your thighs clenching. “I’ve spent just as much time with you as I have the others. I know your body like the back of my hand but I never wanted to assume—I wanted you to come to me when you were ready.”

He wastes not a second more, a groan rumbling through his whole being when he closes the distance and presses his mouth against yours like a man starved. It’s messy, sloppy as teeth clash and tongues touch but you can’t bring yourself to care about bruised lips and being perfect when Az was holding you so close—like he was scared you’d change your mind and run off. “Was ready the first time you touched me.”

Azriel bends at the knee, hands curling behind your thighs to carry you in his arms. It doesn’t last long, just enough for long legs to bring you to Rhysand’s desk. The mountain of papers are swiped from the table without second thought, ink pot seeping into the wool rug as ravenous hands eat at any and all exposed flesh he can get to. “You never said anything.”

“I wasn’t worthy of you then,” Something in his tone changes, something darker and more primal that sends a shiver down your spine. “I’m not worthy of you now but I’m too selfish to care now that I’ve got you all to myself.”

His touch is branding, the grip on your hips keeping you firmly pressed against him and the whimper that you let out is eagerly swallowed by his mouth. Azriel’s not gentle by any means, desperate kisses down the length of your neck and the mark he sucks into the juncture of your shoulder has liquid hot need pooling in your panties.

It’s positively whorish.

Slutting yourself out to the High Lord and his brothers but you can’t bring yourself to care; too busy tugging off your—Rhysand’s shirt to make room for the mouth making a claiming path towards your breasts. “Az,” You gasp out when lips wrap around a peaked nipple, back arching into his touch when teeth bite down with the most perfect pressure it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “Please. I need more.”

“Wait.” A simple command that can’t be simply fulfilled and you begin to think he enjoys the way you squirm beneath him. “Do for me what I did for you,” A cruel smile quirks at the corners of his mouth and you nearly want to scold your body for betraying you, legs parting at the sight of him so unhinged—so hungry. Azriel settles between your thighs like he was made to be there, shadows curling around your knees to keep you spread and self-consciousness has no place to rear her ugly head when he’s staring at you like the Mother had presented him his wildest dreams on a shiny silver platter.

“I can’t,” You can feel his fingers touching, pulling soaking undergarments to the side, collecting the drip of your slick and sliding it back up. A thumb ghosts over the bump of your clit and Azriel can’t fight the groan at how your hips chase the retreating finger for more. “Please, I need you.”

“Evidently, not bad enough,” You thought Rhysand was insufferable with his teasing. Cool wisps of murky darkness lick at the strong line of his neck, blending into the deep umber of his hair and golden eyes seem to glow ten shades brighten against such a contrast. “Keep telling me though, I like hearing you say it.”

How are you not to comply?

When his head lowers and presses a kiss to your bare cunt; the only kind act you’d receive before he begins his feast. There’s no running away, no squeezing your legs for reprieve when his tongue drags and sucks and fucks into you with such skill.

Azriel doesn’t mean to but he can’t help but work harder than normal, feeling some need to prove himself—each moan and whine, breathy whimpers and teeth biting so harshly into the plush of your bottom lip he worried you’d break skin and draw blood. So be it. Whatever it took to prove he wasn’t last choice; to prove that he was deserving of being nestled between your legs, slurping at your sex like he’d found the fountain of youth and vitality. One finger slips easily into your sopping hole, a second added shortly after and Azriel’s pleased hums send shocks up the length of your spine. “So good, Az.” It’s breathless, choppy, chest heaving and cheeks flushed with your hands palming at your breasts and fingers pulling on your nipples while he works you through the pleasure. “Feels so good—please fuck me. Please, need you inside me.”

His mouth glistens with you when he raises his head, chin dripping and fingers unwavering in their steady pace. In and out, in and out, in and out. Golden eyes darken as if scalded in fire and covered in soot. “Wait.”

Cruel. So devastatingly cruel and yet when fingers curl inside, rubbing deliciously against spongy inner walls you’re thanking him. Babbled praises and garbled pleas for more as you writhe beneath him but he doesn’t stop; seemingly entranced by a spell unable to be broken by sweet words and soft touches. “I’m sorry, Az. I was wrong—please. Please, just touch me.”

The hard line of his brow finally loosens but only an idiot would think he’d let you off easy. Handsome smiles and husky words nearly distract you from the stealthy way he rids himself of his pants, boxers swiftly following. A sinful moan at the sight of him fully hard and weeping at the tip. “You’re sorry?” Azriel’s fucking hung, long and girthy and so utterly beautiful it makes your mouth water when he holds it tight at the base and settles it between your folds—taunting, teasing with the weight of it but never fully giving. A free hand glides up your stomach, between the valley of your breasts, ghosting over your neck before sinking into your hair. “Tell me how sorry. Make me believe it while I fuck you stupid.”

He demands the impossible.

Words escape you when he finally fits the tip inside, feeding you inch after inch of perfect cock that you can do nothing but grip him tighter and whine. The first few thrusts robs you of thought, brain eddying to mush as he gives you time to adjust. “Azriel,” His back flexes at the sound of his name on your lips, eyes hazy and hair messy as he forces you to watch where you start and he ends. “It’s so fucking deep.”

“Yeah?” A kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Feel good?”

“So good. So, so good.”

“That’s sweet, baby.” The pillow comfort in the gentle tone dries up when his cock slowly drags out until there’s barely anything breaching your entrance. “But, that doesn’t really sound like apologies,” Azriel shoves it all back inside with one sharp thrust and the pace he starts is unforgiving. Hard wood digs into the base of your spine and your nails leave marks in the mahogany when searching for something—anything to brace yourself.

You can’t fulfill the request; eyes rolling back as the air is knocked from your lungs with each snap of his hips. Az refuses to stop despite your insubordination, a broken moan shoving its way past his pretty lips when you can’t stop clenching around his cock. “I’m—“

“Just wait for me—so close. Just a little longer.”

It takes effort to pry your eyes open, gazing up at him with glassy eyes and you’re tugging him closer to feel his mouth on yours. There’s no staving off the tight coil in your belly any longer, your release sounding with a pathetic shout and you can feel him filling you up, his hips faltering with sensitivity. “I really am sorry.”

“Don’t be—I was never offended in the first place.” A boyish grin on manly features, wings relaxed on the mattress and hair falling over his forehead. “Just wanted to hear you beg.”

[schoenpepper]

River (Charlie Puth)

Intro: He doesn't understand why you keep getting closer and closer to him, even after all he's done. You don't understand why you love him, either.

Warnings: bad writing, awful grammar, not proofread it's too long for me to give a fuck, reader is like simp 100%, book 4-5 spoilers ig, not canon happenings huehuehue, kinda disconnected but like, all my songfics are disconnected so idk, i was half asleep writing the latter parts, so it'll be messy for sure

A/N: Jamil my babygirl~ The people don't enjoy my Twisted Harmonies series, but I don't care because I like writing them. This one went through a couple edits though.

Masterlist

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

Meeting Jamil was the start of living for you.

Coasting through life back in your old world; everyday was a chore you had to get through in order to continue existing. When you got magically transported to a place with magic and new cultures and new people, it was like you finally got back to the same starting point as everyone else.

But seeing those dark gray eyes and long brown tresses, it made your heart beat for the first time.

A beauty that seems to want to go unnoticed, but how could you ignore him when his radiance filled your very being as naturally as oxygen filled your lungs? When he hid in his mask of incompetence and facade of normalcy, what can you do but trip over your own feet and fall? You see him, and the only thing you want to do is to be closer to him, enough to peel back that visage of mystery, to read him like an open book. Jamil is like a mirage in the deserts of the Scalding Sands, however, you know that the moment you reach out to touch him, he’ll fade away right in front of you.

So you keep watching.

You can’t do anything but watch.

You watch him plot and plan and fall victim to his own schemes. You watch him boil together the mess of feelings he doesn’t know how to release. You watch him bathe in his misery, you watch him drown in it.

You keep your hand to yourself instead of offering it.

You know he’ll never take it.

Look, you can play it cool

Act like you don't care

River don't be cruel

You're pushing me away

You’re interesting.

Jamil doesn’t care about much, and he certainly doesn’t care about you.

But a magicless human barreling into his world (literally) at orientation? You’ve got his interest peaked, at least. That’s it. He doesn’t care enough to give you a second glance. The only thing he knows about you is that you’re from a different world. But rumors always spread like wildfire, and suddenly, you’re the talk of the school. Riddle overblotted and you, somehow, are on center stage. In the Spelldrive tournament, he doesn’t know too much about what transpired, but what he does know is that you’re involved again somehow.

You could be useful.

You could be an asset to him, a boon if used correctly.

1, 2, 3, pieces fall into place.

Kalim is powerful, even if he doesn’t know it. But you, you’re Crowley’s little helper, aren’t you? You can make the headmaster look at the problem head on, instead of cowing to the Al Asims’ money. When everyone in Scarabia, and even Ramshackle’s prefect themself, is saying that Kalim is no longer fit to be housewarden, then wouldn’t the headmaster need to listen?

Stay.

Stay for another dinner. Another night. Another training session.

Stay until you’re useless to Jamil.

Don't want to get hurt

So you hurt me first

With the words you say

Maybe you should fall

Hah. You ruined his plans.

He lays on the floor, soaked in ink and sweat and tears, the forbidden taste of freedom lingering on his tongue. Azul and the twins are looking at him with mild amusement, even though he could clearly see they were just as injured, just as tired as he was. But he can’t read you. Even under snake whisper, he never understands what’s in your mind. You’re looking at him with an expression he can’t place, you give him a feeling he can’t shake. He’s lightheaded, he doesn’t really know where to go from here—when the adrenaline runs out and blood returns to his veins, Jamil has no idea what to do.

He hurt Kalim.

He hurt his dorm.

He hurt you.

Is that all he can do? When the chains that bind him are momentarily unlocked, is hurting other people the only thing he’s good at?

He meets your eyes.

There it is again; an emotion he doesn’t get. Are you pitying him? Is it empathy, sympathy? What do you want from him?

There is nothing that Jamil Viper can offer you.

Not when he doesn’t even belong to himself.

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

You think it’s unfair how beautiful Jamil is, even defeated and down on his knees. You ignore Grim for a moment to skirt around the black substance on the floor, making your way to Jamil. He looks at you warily, reminiscent of a wild animal that’s cautious, and rightly so, of a strange being entering its territory.

You hold your hand out.

You should know better than to hope that today is finally the day that he takes it.

But he does.

It’s more than what you imagined it to be. In your dreams, the boy that you love takes it with a flustered face and an awkward smile, hands clammy with sweat. In reality, the very first time that Jamil ever takes your hand, there’s a determined look on his face and sludge on his palms. He’s tiredly glaring at you, likely internally cursing you out for ruining his evil plans. With the way his pretty eyes are slightly squinted, brows furrowed and lips curved downwards into a frown, you think it’s so much better than your fantasies.

Because it’s the real Jamil.

And his grip kind of hurts when you help him up, but he doesn’t complain when you make him lean on your shoulder for support. You help him back to his room.

Everything’s over. For now.

But for you and your poor heart, it’s all just begun.

Maybe this is the step you’d needed to get closer to him? Maybe this is the part of the cheesy romantic movie where he lets you in after troubles and tribulations? Maybe this time, you can get to know who he really is.

Strip away the practiced incompetence. Take off his cloak made of calculated errors.

So, it’s decided.

From now on, you’ll find out everything about Jamil, and you’ll give and give and give and give, if only to replace the parts he’d had to give away over the years.

You’re both broken.

But maybe if you give him the parts of you that are still working, at least one of you can be fixed.

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

He wakes up in the infirmary. It’s still you.

Why are you still here?

Leave. Leave him alone. He doesn’t deserve your gentle care, not when it’s his fault, not when he’s the reason both for your and his own injuries. You never say a word, but you redress his wounds so carefully, making sure not to hurt him in the process.

What do you get out of this?

He genuinely doesn’t understand.

Jamil has never been kind to you, no, he’s always done what he needed to do in order to get you to move according to the script he’d written. He’d toyed with you, manipulated you, don’t you understand? He lied, because lying is his nature, because you’re just so gullible, you never even thought twice before believing any of his words.

Why don’t you get it?

You hand him a packet of cookies. Cheap ones from the school store, but judging by the way you’re dressed, and what little knowledge he has of your financial situation, he knows it’s all you have on you. He takes it with a soft ‘thanks’ and opens it. It tastes like cardboard, he can make better ones.

But you smile at him.

Your smile reminds him of the sun back home. It’s unbearably bright, he wants to turn his eyes away, but it’s also so unbearably stunning. And your voice, it’s akin to the nectar of blooming flowers in the spring when they travel through the air in all their sweetness. “Eat up, you need to regain your strength.”

If you refuse to be his enemy…then what is he supposed to do?

Look, darling don't give up

When the water's rough

Where you gonna go?

My heart is your home

You are persistent, if nothing else. In a corner somewhere, in a low whisper that no one other than you or him would have heard, he’d apologized. You accepted his apology. He thought that would have been the end of it. You’d return to the state of strangers, as you had been before the winter vacation. But you’re like honey, sticking to his fingers and leaving a saccharine residue he just can’t wash off. You’re in the cafeteria and you choose to sit next to him, in the hallways where you greet him a cheery ‘good morning’ and ‘good afternoon’, in the parties in Scarabia that Kalim invites you to.

You pull Jamil away to a hidden balcony to escape the noise. You laugh and chatter away even when he doesn’t reply.

You hold his hand.

He lets you.

He doesn’t know why, but he lets you do whatever you want. He never stops you, even though he knows he should.

You show up to basketball practice and every single game. He tries, he really does, to convince himself that you’re there for Ace. You guys are best friends, right? So of course you’d be there to support him. Hell, you could even be there for Floyd, with how close you seem to be with the merman.

(Jamil is a liar, after all.)

He tells himself you’re not there for him.

Even when you run up to him after a successful play, passing him a cold bottle of water and a fluffy towel for his sweat, he swears you’re not there to support him. Why would you? He’s the guy that threw you all the way to the other side of his dormitory.

(You only give Ace an eye roll when he brags about the win, and Floyd, a high five.)

(The best liars fool themselves.)

Nothing is as cold

As running on your own

So river don't you rush

Maybe you should fall

You have…what was the expression again?

Jamil watches on with Kalim from the corner of the court.

Two left feet, that’s it. Your dancing is, quite frankly, hilarious to watch. A mess of uncoordinated limbs flailing about, but it’s certainly better than Grim’s or Deuce’s. Kalim interrupts with a well-meaning comment (rude, but it’s true), and somehow, Jamil’s volunteered against his will to teach the clumsy first-years how to dance.

Ace knows enough of the basics, Deuce is remarkably stiff, Grim is a hopeless case.

But you can learn.

You want to pass the auditions too? Vil’s rather stringent with his requirements, though Rook is certainly not. But if you want to have even a shot at this, maybe Jamil can teach you more thoroughly, one on one.

Sevens, even he doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore.

You agree.

(Why did you agree?)

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Things are looking up

One hand on your waist, the other gently fixing your leg in place by your upper thigh.

(He wonders if you can hear his heart beating when his chest is to your back.)

“You should be more relaxed. The song isn’t aggressive, so you shouldn’t be so stiff.” Jamil speaks lowly into your ear, and he feels you shudder but never pull away. Instead, you nod and try to follow his instructions the best you can. Your body melts into the posture he’s veering you towards, molded by his palms. You’re warm, and the way you’re nervously looking back over your shoulder to gauge his reaction makes him think of the stray cats that occasionally circled him for food.

“Sorry, I just, don’t really dance,” you admit in embarrassment.

“Then why do you want to audition for the SDC?”

“Hm? Because my friends are auditioning. They think that if enough of us are in the team, they’ll be able to replace Epel. He doesn’t seem very willing to compete, after all.”

And there you are again.

Saving another stranger, as if kindness itself is melded into your bones. Jamil finds that he was wrong; it’s not just your smile that’s evocative of sunlight, it’s you. Your eyes meet his with a warmth that doesn’t burn, yet touching your skin makes him feel like he’d just come in contact with red-hot lava.

If you’re this kind to everyone, was he just another charity case to you?

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Jamil pushes you away like it’s routine.

Everytime you think you’ve managed to dig deeper, you’re met with another blockade, each stronger than the last. He’s confusing, because everytime you think he’s letting you get closer (every time, you’re given hope that your feelings have come through), you’re disappointed again and again and again. You manage to graze the edge of his fingers before he flinches away like your touch burns him like hot metal.

And you keep trying.

What else are you supposed to do?

You continue your efforts and hope and pray that one day, he’ll see you. 

But for now, you watch out for his lines and redraw them without his knowledge. You do what you can to be his friend, because even though every bone in your body is begging for his love, you know it’s impossible when he won’t even let you be his confidant. You sit next to him and stay, even when he tries to scoot further away from you. Is it healthy? Probably not. You know better than to do what you’re doing. But you don’t stop.

(Jamil is like a drug injected straight into your veins.)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

He thought that distancing himself from you would be the right thing to do. He doesn’t know if it’s right, but what he does know is that it’s impossible. You’re a thought always running through his mind; a dream flowing through his reality.

When did it start that, even when he knows you’re not near, he still searches for you?

Jamil almost feels relief when he arrives at Pomefiore and realizes that you didn’t make the cut. Almost. He’s not relieved though, it’s overshadowed by a feeling of restlessness he doesn’t understand.

Anything concerning you, Jamil’s never quite understood.

Then you arrive anyway. When he’s managed to calm his heart down, you rev it up again like an engine. Vil announces you to be the team manager, and you agree quickly to let the team stay at Ramshackle at the notion of the prize money.

(You certainly weren’t looking at Jamil when you agreed.)

How is he supposed to avoid you now?

He moves in with the rest of the group, when you insist that you’re one bedroom short and thus, regretfully, Jamil would have to stay with you for the duration of his stay. He’s a liar, of course he knows you’re lying. He can see your gleeful smile you’re desperately trying to hide, in the small giggles that leave your lips when you think no one’s paying attention to you. He can decline, of course, and just room with Kalim instead where he can make sure that the heir survives the night without too much distance.

Instead, he agrees, only asking for Kalim to room nearby.

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Don't run from me river, river

No don't run from me river

Your very smart and well thought-out plan worked.

Hm, maybe a little too well.

Jamil didn’t say anything when you basically forced him into sharing a room with you. Now he’s in the bathroom, and you’re shaking in your pajamas (from fear? Excitement? Withdrawal symptoms?), tucked into your cheap cotton sheets you’d bought at Sam’s for a couple thaumarks. It is unfortunate, but true, when you say that these are the nicest sheets you have. Jamil exits the bathroom fully clothed (sadly), hair wrapped in a towel and a hair dryer in hand. “Let me help you.” There is no way you were letting an opportunity like this slip through your fingers.

Surprisingly, he complies.

He’s sitting on your bed while you’re kneeling on the mattress behind him, plugging the device on and getting to work. God, it’s divine, he’s divine—his hair smells fruity and floral, and it moves through your fingers like he’s in a shampoo commercial.

(Don’t be a freak. Don’t sniff his hair.)

It takes a long time for it to dry, but when it does, it’s smooth and shiny and absolutely gorgeous. He tries to get up and says he can put his hair oil on by himself, and you take out the pushiest, most blunt sides of you in order to convince him to let you do it too.

Safe to say, sleep escapes you when you’re next to a five-foot-seven beauty in an oversized hoodie and pajama pants.

Maybe you should fall

That's what rivers do

'Cause when you're in love

You don't mind a different view

Jamil has come to the conclusion that he can’t avoid you.

Perhaps it was a realization that should have come long ago. But as the days pass by and he’s in your dormitory, it only further cements in him the feelings he’d been running from. Seeing you everyday feels right, spending every waking moment with you is more than just comfortable. It’s freeing in a way, like he’d just arrived to the countryside from the smoke of the city and he’s taking his first whiff of fresh air.

Practice is enjoyable.

He dances and he sings, and he can feel your eyes on him, roaming up and down but never to anyone else. For the first time in his life, someone’s chosen him, someone’s looking at him with every bit of their attention and focus. Not Kalim, not anyone else. Him. Jamil might be addicted to the feeling of you so openly lusting after him, almost begging for his attention.

(He can’t recognize the other emotions, but physical attraction is easy to read.)

You desire him. Really?

When he looks back at you, catching you in the middle of your act, he enjoys seeing your flustered face and avoidant gaze all the more. Vil calls for a break, so he stretches before taking the sports drink you’re offering.

(It reminds him of when you’d visit him during his basketball games.)

Jamil lightens the mood by deciding to make small talk with you instead of calling you out on your behavior. He takes a sip and laughs with you when Ace and Grim get in a scuffle in the middle of the dance floor, Vil breaking them up with a well-thrown bottle of apple juice. He watches you laugh at Ace clutching a forming bump on his forehead. It sounds like something he can’t quite place, but what he does know is that he’s dreamt of it before—

He’s…dreamt of you.

Multiple times.

The realization hits him harder than the bottle that Vil had thrown at Ace.

Things are looking up

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river)

Don't run (run, run)

Oh river (river, river) don't run (run, run)

Don't run (river, river) from our love (run, run)

Practice was useless.

You watch the reaction of the crowd in response to Neige and his team’s rehearsal. It was a fine performance (if it had been done in a kindergarten recital). Yet you see Vil seething and Rook sighing like the both of them had already seen defeat before it even arrived. You feel annoyance, frustration, injustice (why should the cutesy dance win when it was poorly put together, nothing but a mockup of an actually talented number?). None of that helps. 

Vil overblots.

It’s familiar, though it probably shouldn’t be. The fight saps all the energy you had in your body, and you rush to your friends before the dust even settles, thankfully, no one has a serious injury. They still perform despite everything that had just happened, on the stage that your friend Tsunotarou had rebuilt with just a flick of his wrist. Predictably, they lose.

Well, who said the majority of people had good taste?

(You find Jamil packing in your room right afterwards. You convince him to stay, just a little longer. You wonder what you would need to do to convince him to stay forever.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Jamil thinks he finally understands.

Not you, exactly, rather, the combination of emotions he always finds whenever he looks into your eyes. It was love, a deep adoration that seeped into your soul and made you vulnerable to everything he did. It makes him rethink; was it his unique magic all that time ago, or was it just you fully willing to submit to his whims? No, when did this even start? You’ll likely never give him an answer to that question, but he’s smart enough to figure it out on his own. Retrace the steps, right? All the way back to the first time he met you.

(It’s not quite love yet. But something is there, and he doesn’t know why.)

It’s incorrect for him to assume that just because he found out what your feelings for him were, he’d automatically unravel who you are as a person. It only serves to deepen the enigma; what had he done for you to notice him so early on?

(He crosses out the possibility it might be love at first sight. How boring.)

You must be some tactical genius, and every action leading to this moment must’ve all been a trap. It was as if every step he’d taken since the day you met had only led him spiraling down, deeper and deeper into you. You’re a master at this game he’d noticed too late, you’d already gotten him stuck in your well-woven web of deceit.

How unexpected.

And yet, thrilling.

As Jamil lays his head on your lap, drifting off to a peaceful sleep under the shade of the apple tree, he takes in the feeling of you gently massaging his scalp and thinks of only one thing.

He’d lost to your machinations.

(If you want it so badly, Jamil will give you whatever is left of him that is his. He will trust you.)

Oh river (river, river) (don't run from me river)

Don't run (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

Don't run (river, river) (no don't run from me river)

From our love (run, run) (don't run from me river, river)

No

His eyelashes are remarkably long. You gently trail a fingertip over the edge of its fanned-out shape, taking note of the shadow it leaves on his cheekbones.

He doesn’t wake up when you kiss his cheek.

Jamil is a mystery you want to keep trying to read every single moment of everyday. He’s a person you want to keep next to you, even if you’ve already gotten to the bottom of all his plans and ideals. You were attracted to him because Jamil is a shattered mirror, all its pieces still reflecting you.

He was barely existing too.

You saw in him what you know is present within yourself; a creature of self-doubt and hatred, wanting to know its place in this world, needing to know its purpose for existence. But unlike you, Jamil took steps to find a way out of his own personal hell, while back in your own world, you were only ever stuck in the same place. He’s everything you never thought you needed, but did.

Now, he’s breathing.

You wonder if he feels safe with you.

You wonder if he feels the same way that you do. Does he look at you and feel alive? Just like how Jamil was the beginning of your living, are you his?

You don’t need to know the answer.

(You couldn’t fix him, and he couldn’t fix you. Isn’t it great, then, that your broken pieces slot right into each other?)

[fountainpenguin]

Riddle watches New Wish - Post #20

Best of Luck

With a title like "Best of Luck," this sounds exactly like an Anti-Fairy episode. I'm intrigued.

I love how Cosmo and Wanda's house can be wherever it needs to be, including inside Hazel's desk.

I wish we would've had that lore in the OG series, because it makes a lot of sense (and makes the concept of riding around with your godkids and sitting in elementary school all day less boring). I think I'm yoinking this for 'fics.

I like how they still have old-fashioned desks in the future. I've never had these desks.

Peri and Dev are together again... Peri's trying his best <3 I like how Dev is a grump. That feels right.

"Peace is boring and lacking in swag." - Dev Dimmadome, 2024

I love him.

I enjoy how that random horse has been here for tons of episodes. It's just silly.

I really like Winn. They have so many happy things to say about life and their friends:

"Pulling out paper, even though you'd used it to defeat your previous 3 opponents?? /smiles and clutches hands to chest while shaking head. "Inspired."

They deserve to be the cool kid everyone likes and wants to befriend. I support it. I hope they have a really nice life and many joys.

Hey, wait a minute! I WAS right about Winn only having freckles on one cheek. I think it just flips sides when they turn.

Peri in his debut: I'm gonna take you from Dev to Dev-ine!! Dev now, on the heels of a massive meltdown: What happened to you 'taking me from Dev to Dev-ine?' I don't FEEL very Dev-ine >:( Peri: :')

I enjoy the detail of Dev pushing his shades back on his nose after throwing his head back and then snapping it forward. They didn't even fall down or reveal his eyes, but it was the correct move for him to do.

I like how every time Dev moves his head, his shades catch the ceiling lights.

Ohhh, when snooty Peri comes out, you've gone too far!

... I was wrong!! Dev just raised his voice and Peri crumpled. I love him.

That music sting, tho...

For some reason, that last one gives me bigger "Oh, that's totally Poof" energy than any other screenshot I've taken? idk why; I don't remember Poof getting angry often.

Hang on- I watch Season 9 a lot. Let me check my usual highlights...

... ah. I don't like what this says about me.

-> omg, his staff is based on his rattle! I didn't even notice that until now!! That's so clever!

There's something really funny about posting this picture right before jumping back into my liveblog.

Anyway, Peri is trying SO hard to explain the rules... He looked like he was about to cry and then he snapped; let's see where this is going.

OHHHH, he's quitting! I knew it~! He can't handle the pressure. He's too baby!!

I cannot believe this man lasted 4.5 months on the job. Every time he showed up, he was upset.

Peri: You know what, Dev? I'm DONE. Dev: Well, I'm done-ER! Peri: I'm the done-EST! Dev: Stick a fork in BOTH OF US, THEN!!!

Neither of them is okay.

And he's got tears down his cheeks... Freakin' GEEZ, Dev! You snapped him like a twig.

I'm glad he's having a hard time adjusting to being a nice person. lol. It really underscores why he's so mean at the start of the series.

The fact that he had no issue taking off his shades after befriending Hazel in "A New Dev-elopment" (even willing to go to school with them off and talk nicely to his teacher that Monday, regardless of the fact that this was his first time in the series doing that and people might've talked about it) gives me the inkling that he probably HAS tried being nice in the past, and he doesn't MIND being nice... until he's hurting, and then his self-defense mechanism is to shut down and wall everyone out.

He WANTS to be "a happy kid." He just keeps getting bit every time he places his trust in someone. Including Hazel (in his POV) since he couldn't move past his "Wait a minute... Did you WISH for us to be friends??" meltdown in spite of the good times that came from that wish.

He tried so hard to see the good in his dad in "Lost and Founder's Day." Even when his dad snapped at him for asking if he could help and told him to go "Eat a lizard."

Even when his dad blatantly used electricity to shock people's brains and Dev very clearly had issues with it. He tried SO HARD to turn it around to "Oh, so you can help kids!!"

He even tried to see the good in Vicky [before she entered the house] when Hazel tried cheering him up with the thought of, "Well yeah, maybe you didn't want a princess cosplayer at your birthday, but she might be a really COOL party princess!"

He just keeps trying and has such high hopes and patience despite getting nipped every time he speaks up and reaches out. That's why he stayed un-miserable for so long before tipping over and getting Peri assigned to him. Tell him how high to jump and he'll do his best without even asking "How high?"

So he took that leap with Hazel. And the floor went out from under him.

I read once that if your natural response is to close off when you're struggling and/or just handle everything yourself even if it's a lot, it indicates your past experiences of reaching out yielded no help, so it's hard to see the point in asking others for help in the future.

I don't have the place I read this on hand and I didn't dive for the sources back then, so take it with a grain of salt, but it's all I've been thinking about while watching Dev in this show.

btw, I had to rewatch part of "Lost and Founder's Day" to grab that screenshot, and it's hilarious to me that even when he's talking to his own son, Dale still introduces himself as "Dale Dimmadome, owner of Dimmadome Global." He's just like his dad.

Okay... Blue smoke? Anti-Fairy time??

OHHHH, it's the man of the hour!! Welcome back, loser!

I love the little shift of him flexing his wing. I like how similar the wing is to the old show (Black with blue markings).

Eric Bauza, is that you?? Score!

Okay, I looked it up to see if that was true and first of all, yes it is, and second, he's also credited as Peri's VA, so I love that! I hadn't bothered to check who Peri's VA was, but that literally makes so much sense; their parents have always shared, so of COURSE they'd share too. That's so smart...

Hm... Can't say I'm the biggest fan of Foop's name changing to Irep and I'm not sure I like his design, but maybe it'll grow on me.

That said, the name change is a really clever way to get Irep to explain the lore of how he's the opposite of Peri without being info-dumpy.

I'm glad he kept his facial hair. And he's got big boy fangs! I miss his F-shaped hair curls, though, or maybe I need a better angle.

Hey, he has a dark jacket like the lab coat I gave him in my high school design. I wasn't far off!

No freckles, but in OG canon, they only really showed up when he flushed, so no surprise. I don't expect to see them, but it would be funny if he did flush and they were still there.

Also, I really like the ultraviolet glow of his crown. That makes so much sense.

Insert joke about how Anti-Fairies used to be invisible to the naked eye until Season 5

... He is actually REALLY cute. He looks a lot like his old self.

Are other Anti-Fairies also going to have square heads? I don't mind Foop having a square one if all his species does, but I'll be a bit surprised if he's the only creature with a cube head.

I think it's funny that they took away Peri's eyelashes when he grew up, but left Irep with one. That feels incredibly right.

I love his unique scruffy eyebrows. That's cute.

Irep, who previously had such a traumatizing experience as a godparent that he spent that episode screaming and crying, his magic souring in a range of colors all the way down to green in one of the only appearances of green magic in the series, and literally almost gave up on life before he gained the courage to lash out at Vicky despite knowing full-well his magic would immediately backlash and torture him for it: "I am once again ready to take responsibility for a mean human."

This only exacerbates my analysis of Peri not being ready for godkids and that's flippin' hilarious.

The nerd finally put on shoes!!

Dev wished for it to be tomorrow, so now it's tomorrow (waning crescent, of course).

No Dev-Irep sleepover? Robbed >:(

??? Obsessed with Hazel walking into school chatting about what she spent her night doing. I love how this means Irep just... yoinked Dev forward in time.

/horse in the hospital voice: I didn't know he could do that.

This episode's set-up & plot is just great in general.

Everyone else has gone to bed and Dev's had no sleep or breakfast. He needs a snack.

Ooh, wait- what? Mace wand!! ... I don't think I'll keep that in my canon, but that's a clever way to parallel Poof's staff. It's funny to me that the posh British boy did not get a staff. He WOULD like bashing people with the mace, huh?

It delights me to see Irep left-handed. He's been a leftie since the day he was born, all through to Season 10 :')

I like how Irep started crying when Dev told him he was "better than Peri." I mean... He's not wrong- that IS literally all Foop-Irep has wanted to hear since the minute he was born.

He is literally the same person he's always been. lol.

"Best of Luck" & "Two and a Half Babies"

I wonder if he's still claustrophobic, because that was, like... his big thing after escaping Abracatraz. I doubt it will come up (and he's much older now), but since he's an antagonist, I assume he has a weakness, and that would be an interesting one to bring back.

-> Actually if I'm remembering right, it was his alternate personality's phobia (Foop vehemently denying it while his alter literally screamed at the top of his lungs and doubled down), which is definitely implyin' somethin' about which of them remembers Abracatraz better. Hmm...

FINALLY! I don't think we ever got to see umbrellas open indoors as a form of bad luck in the OG series. It's one of those tiny questions always floating in the back of my mind, sdklfj.

I like how Dev still went to class. He has rule-breaking magic at his fingertips and this is where he's spending his time.

I guess it's not like he can leave the school; his whole goal is to get in that schoolwide Rock, Paper, Scissors competition.

I like Hazel eating from her popcorn bucket of 4-leaf clovers.

is Irep going to try to poke her and then, like... break out in hives or something? lol.

[fictionalmenxyn]

꧁𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠꧂

Pairing: frat!rafe x sorority!reader

Face claim: Sophia Birlem

Warning: drinking

Summary: a party that leaves them thinking. Is this more than a simple football player and coaches daughter?

(Kai is your brother, older by a year and your last name for this maybe series depends if u guys like it. Your last name is Maddens.)

Reader has souther accent/they all do…

(Been into country recently so I am referencing a song in this, so if you don’t like country, think of another song :))

(Also a little author’s note/life update, idk if you’ll read this, but I got into college! Can’t even believe it tbh. It’s nuts! Cause originally I wanted to do sixth form (I’m British btw). But my school couldn’t do it this year. So I went to apply for college and today I officially became a student!! :D)

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

It was one of the first frat parties of the summer. Weather was warm and booze kept on flowing.

You were with your friends at the frat house Rafe, Topper, Kelce and Kai. You were grabbing drinks with your friends. Pouring yourself a Malibu and coke into your red solo cup. You grab the sharpie and wrote ‘y/n/n’ . You put the sharpie down, then sipping your drink, you head to the living space.

You and your friends walked over to the makeshift dance floor of the living space. The couches had been pushed back and the coffee table out of the way, making room to dance.

You and your friends danced like there was no tomorrow. And that’s what you lived about you and your friends, you weren’t ashamed to have a good time, unlike most girls in your classes.

The football boys were all playing beer pong. Rafe was sat with Kelce as they both waited their turn to play. Rafe glanced around the place, then he was you. God you looked so good tonight, you did anyways, but tonight felt different. Maybe it’s because you aren’t in jeans or your cheer or soccer clothes. But he didn’t mind what you wore, it was you that he liked.

He sipped his beer and watched you dance with your girlfriend’s care free. He liked that about you. You’ve both hung out multiple times. I mean he’s your brother’s best friend ALSO one of your dad’s star players. He’s talked to you many times, but tonight seemed different.

He smiles a little as he watches you flip your hair side to side as you swing your hips and laugh with your friends. Many guys had their eyes on you tonight, including Rafe.

Kelce broke his thoughts “dude, quit eyeing up Y/n all night, man” “shut it, Kelce.” Kai smirked “dude we know you like my sister, admit it, besides pretty sure she likes ya back… but you didn’t hear shit from me, yeah??”

Rafe smirked.

He glances to you one last time, before taking his turn in beer pong.

Five minutes ago… (your pov)

You laughed with your friends, then Brooklyn tapped your shoulder. She said “hey, Rafe is lookin’ at you again, girl.” You smirked “oh really?” She laughed and nodded. “Give him a show, girly!!” You both laughed as you playfully flipped your hair side to side and swing your hips to the beat. Brooklyn encouraged you even more. So you lightly smack your thighs as you keep your hands there as you sway your hips.

You look over your shoulder to see Rafe now playing beer pong, stealing glances from you every so often. “Girl, he’s so into you, it’s so obvious now…” you shrug her comment off. Why would he be interested in you? He has girls left right and centre… yeah you’re popular and naturally pretty. But girls go it him, isn’t that what he likes? Right…?

After some time, you walk over to the drinks table to grab your third drink. You walk over to the big wooden table that you know has been repaired so many times that you can’t count on your hands anymore. You were about to grab the Malibu bottle when you hear your name. “Y/n!”

You look over your shoulder and smile “Hey Rafe, great party tonight” he grins as he shoves his hands into his jean pockets. “Thanks, glad you came…” you nodded “glad I did, how’s Kai? He’s not wasted yet is he??” He laughs “no, not yet anyways, what about you? How many have you had?” You replied “this will be my third. Been to busy dancing that getting more drinks.”

He chuckled “yeah I saw, you look good tonight.” You laugh and put your hand up, you said lightheartedly “please, spare me your reused white bitch pick up lines.” He laughs. He liked that about you, your humour and the fact you didn’t fall easy. It gets boring to him if you fall easy, that’s why he didn’t have feeling for the hook ups he would have.

He held up the Malibu bottle “here, lemme put you one, as I’m a good host.” You sarcastically laugh “good one, Cameron, you’d be pouring one for everyone if you were a good host.” He laughed back “who says I wanna be a good host to everyone??” “Touché, Cameron.”

He poured the coke, then handed you the solo cup “try that, princess.” You take a sip and hold your thumbs up. He smirked “good?” You nodded “yep, thanks.”

He looked over to the boys for a moment, he saw them move their hands in a usher motion as a silent ‘stay with her’. He playfully rolled his eyes then turns back to you. “Wanna dance?” You smirked “I thought you’d never ask, Cameron.” You stuck your hand out and guide him over to where you were minutes ago…

You held his hand with one of your hands as the other held your drink. You stuck your arm up in the air, while his didn’t pass the top of his head; due to height difference. You smile, tilting your head back as you dance to the rhythm. He smiled down at you. He could get used to this odd feeling he had deep down.

You hear a country song come on, you gasp when you knew what it was. ‘Dirt on my boots’ by Jon Pardi, started to blast through the speakers. You were surprised to hear a country song, but you were happy. You loved this song, Kai knew, so Rafe knew. Maybe he might’ve been in control of the speakers and added this song, just for you…

You sway your hips as you sing out, in your best thick southern accent “give me half an hour, for a shave and shower and I’ll be outside of your house!”

You started to do your own sort of line dancing when you sang your heart out “might have a lil’ dirt on my boots! But I’m takin’ you uptown tonight! Might have a lil’ mud on my wheels! But they’re gonna shine with you up inside!” Thank god you had your black cowboy boots on tonight. Matched your black dress perfectly.

The boys all watched you and Rafe together. Kai smirked, he knew his best friend was falling for his sister. And honestly, he wasn’t mad. Yeah sureee, best friend and sister, some may say is bad. But Kai could definitely see you both as a couple; no doubt about it.

Rafe watched you in awe as you kept line dancing to the chorus “might have a lil’ dirt in my boots!” He chuckled at your carefree attitude. God, he loved it… he loved you.

You smirked as you looked to Rafe. You took off his snapback, pulling it on your head. He didn’t know what to do with himself. It may be a baseball cap, but it was his. And you were in it.

You both continue to dance as the song died down. You smiled “bet you didn’t expect that?!” He laughed “definitely didn’t, princess.”

You both headed over to the drinks table as Rafe wanted to grab another beer. You look around to see your friends are either with their boyfriend or a possible friend or even hook up. You looked back to Rafe “you don’t mind if I stick with you and the guys?” He shook his head “we won’t mind, c’mon” he stuck his hand out, hoping you’d grab his hand.

You intertwined your hands, he could get use to this.

He guides you both through the parts of crowds. Until you got to one of the random couches in the ‘family’ room. Which the frat house turned into a chill sports room to watch football or any other sports they were interested in.

You hug your brother, Kai joked “he been behaving??” You laugh “of course.” He smirked then let you go. Rafe patted the spot on the couch next to him. Then Kai subtly nudged Topper to sit in that spot. You playfully roll your eyes at your brother’s actions, he wasn’t subtly, at all. You were very close to Kai, so he knew you well and you knew him well.

Kai wasn’t really protective, in a certain way. He was if he didn’t know the people you hung out with. But he knew you could handle yourself and carry your own. So he never tried to interfere with your drama, unless he needed. So the ‘thing’ between Rafe and yourself. He knew it was your choice and he’d let you do whatever. But Kai has already gave everyone in the frat house the ‘if you ever get with my sister and break her heart, I’ll break your face’ talk.

You see Topper had got comfy in your, well was, spot. Rafe patted his thigh “come on, you know I don’t bite.” You laugh and shake your head at his comment. You walk over and sit on his lap. He kept a hand on your hip. Not knowing how far you’d let him put his hands on you. So he kept the simple, hand in hip. Subtly way for guys to back off you, also simple ways for Rafe to have you close.

You chatted with most of the boys, Rafe just listened. Your voice was honey to him. And it was perfect that you talked a lot. Not in a rude way, but you lived to socialise with people you knew well. Like the other day. You came over the frat house to drop off something for Kai. Then ended up having a hour and half conversation with Topper about a new movie you both had seen. Or another time where you were sat on the field with the football team. After a training you were talking with them. You loved to talk and you were good at getting people to talk back; even if they were shy. You were a very confident yet comforting person to be with and talk to. You were good at that, which Rafe loved and appreciated.

Before you knew it, it was already half one in the morning. You told your friends you’d meet them out front by one thirty. So you had to go. You hugged the guys and bid your farewells.

As you headed out the house, you met up with your friends. Two of your friends, boyfriends were coming back to your sorority house. So you girls weren’t walking home on your own.

One of the guys said “hey, Y/n? Whose hat is that??” You touched the top of your head. Your tipsy self gasped and covered your mouth for a moment. Your friends all laughed “whose is it??”

“Oh my god, it’s Rafe’s hat, I forgot to give it back.” You laugh.

“Hmm maybe you’ll have to go give it back… oh! Maybe he didn’t tell you on purpose!”

Correct.

“I’ll have to go back tomorrow…”

“Oh yeah you are, we’ll kick you over there otherwise!”

You and your friends all laugh together.

What a great night. And what a great day to come. Hopefully Rafe won’t be too made that you stole his hat… maybe he’s not even mad at all.

Correct.

꧁𖥕𖥕𖥕꧂

Shall I make this a series??? Plz let me know either through ask box or messages, plz and thx, have a good day/night all!! 🫶🫶

[chordsykat]

How I write action/fight scenes

From a prompt posted by a friend on Discord last night. :3 Just thought I would ramble a bit before getting to work, this morning. If you're a writer and want to know what goes through my head as I come up with combat scenes in my stories, then read on. In this way, I hope we both learn a lot. Because I honestly don't think I've ever laid out my "formula" before...

First, know who you're dealing with.

This tutorial is going to stick mostly to the actual writing aspects, but if you're going to do an action series, you should factor in the combat abilities of your characters as you develop them. This doesn't have to be anything fancy. Keep it to the natural human responses at least. In other words, during a conflict, how will your character react:

Fight: Push back

Flight: Run away

Freeze: Do nothing

Knowing just that will give you enough to start thinking these dances through. And indeed, that's what they are - a dance. If you know more, like, specifically what kind of fighting they do, what their strengths in combat are, etc -- all the better, but know that what I list below goes in order from most to least important, and that stuff won't be on the list until the end.

Second, (and always) make the audience care about the action.

This sounds dumb and counterintuitive but people won't find an action scene compelling just because it's an action scene. Not to knock it, because it was brilliant for a different reason and a lot of the writing staff's hands were tied... BUT... During my time as a fan of, all the way into my employment with, Archie-Sonic, I can't tell you how many action scenes happened just because some executive at Sega was like "I think X and Y need to fight." So they would, and for reasons that were muddy at best. I think at one point, we had Sonic and Knuckles literally exchanging this dialogue:

Sonic: Yo dude, be cool. Last time we met, we left on good terms! Knuckles: Maybe, but you're still an intruder and just because you did me that favor on the day my daughter was to be married does not mean I owe you anything in the way of kindness.

IDK, my memory may be foggy, but that was the gist of it. Point is, don't do that - and first make sure your audience understands the motives behind the action, the potential stakes, and why it's all taking place to begin with. Else, you can make it as cool as you want and people are going to walk away with a sense of "that was cool" instead of "holy shit I was freaking out through that whole scene." If there's any question as to what you should be striving for as a writer, it's the latter.

Third, plot it out like it's a mini-story.

To the point - figure out the end first, and work backwards, just like so many writing tutorials have said before. Again, keep it simple: Who wins? Does the conflict result in a casualty of some kind? Does a character learn something?

Before you show how it goes down, you need to establish what goes down as the action happens, and what happens afterwards. Keeping the ending in mind as yo write a scene is always a good way of making it feel tighter. And throwing littlte twists for interest (maybe a character has the upper-hand for all but the end of the fight - maybe a character is losing until a specific turning point, etc) is made much easier, too.

Fourth, mind the rhythm.

A little weird to explain this, but the back-and-forth nature of the scene needs to flow well. Generally, conflict follows a pattern of:

Character acts

Opposition reacts

Opposition acts

Character reacts

If this pattern looks familiar to you, it should. This is the basic pattern of human dialogue as seen in stories and, YES, real life. Consider your scene like a dialogue all its own (even if the characters are talking throughout). The twists and turns I spoke about in the last point should be "off beat" because there's an unexpected nature to them. When a twist happens, consider breaking the above pattern.

Fifth, showcase character traits and skills (again, always).

Some characters have a high sense of honor and would put down their weapons if their opponent was unarmed. Some of them would fight dirty and hit someone with a chair when their back was turned. Some characters are scrappy and will jump into a conflict even when they're sorely outmatched. Some are straight up cowards who might run away even when there's a good chance they could win. Some are smart enough to bow out and will not engage -- hiding at the first sign of trouble. Some will throw snowballs at the oppressor and be surprised when they pull aggro and the dude comes after them.

You get the idea -- fights, conflicts and action scenes are great ways to show your characters' strengths, weaknesses, traits, and personality. Times of struggle are going to lay emotional responses raw, and it's a great way of showing "who someone really is" as it were.

Sixth, showcase unique defensive behavior.

Some characters have specific training: military, martial arts, street-fighting, etc... which, if you're aware of those, should come out during combat or conflict. Some characters have access to weapons. Some characters' bodies are the weapon. Etc, etc etc...

Whatever you do, about the only time you're going to show off the fact that your character knows Muay Thai is during an action scene. If you yourself do not practice this martial art, then research what you need to incorporate to make it believable when you write. Watch videos and write down the ways you would describe the movement. If you're doing a comic, then sketch the movement. Use that in your story.

Last, create more interest by tying in and highlighting story themes or disparities between protagonist characters, antagonist characters, and/or the conflict as a whole.

A little trickier, but if your story has a central theme or moral, try showing pieces of it shining through the action. Just as one wild example, if you have a theme of "love conquers all" this might mean your fight will end with the two people falling in love, instead of fighting. Think like a dungeon master. If you rolled a natural 20 on "try to woo the orc" in a combat situation (remember that comic?) what do you think would happen?

Too, if your combatants have something in common, or especially something that they are diametrically opposed on, feel free to show that off in these scenes. It'll leave the audience knowing them better (and set them up for further head-butting... or romance(?) down the line. And that's always fun).

Anywho, that's just a few of my thoughts on action sequences in fiction. If this helped you, or you want me to talk about this even more -- send me a message or a note or something. Always up for discussing this kind of thing.

And your reward for reading this far is an invite to join my discord if you wanna hear me ramble on about this sort of thing, in perpetuity. :)

[aniseya]

i kinda have a feeling that mae is gonna die sooner than later. maybe sacrificing herself to save osha and accepting the light and dark of the force, and whether she is one again with osha idek. i would say that would be a disservice to her character outside of her sister, but with the way the series keeps pushing for everyone being more interested in/revolved around osha than mae. like think about it, there’s not one character in the series that has chosen mae over osha, except for maybe koril, but even that’s a generous guess, which could maybe come into play but idk if they intend for mae to turn to the light or just go rogue after the finale, if she survives.

even then, i feel like the title of the series is an indicator that the main out of the twins was always meant to osha, or that only one could be the acolyte (which has been confirmed by leslye to essentially be osha since qimir is her true master). and with recent events showing characters constantly pine for osha to be around them whereas mae is only presented as second-fiddle, i feel like she’ll either die for osha or perhaps find koril and just fuck off somewhere else to decide whether revenge or togetherness is the path they wish to choose anymore. but idk, while i love oshamir, i had hoped that mae would get an equal share of affection and someone finally choosing her in sol’s character, but the flashback really just suggests everyone has had a preference for osha after meeting her. as a character in her own right, mae really deserves better if she truly is osha’s other half of her soul.

i almost do not know for sure how true osha and mae being two halves of the same strong force is. because while the jedi have said they are exactly the same, the series both metaphorically and literally is saying otherwise. osha’s strength to draw people in and alert people to her presence seems to be stronger than mae’s. qimir was able to pick up on osha being different force-wise and he instantly wanted her, and sol’s desire for her to be his padawan caused him to commit the crime on brendok in the first place.

i am just confused as to what they’re going to reveal about the twins that explains why osha seems to be the one people want and the one with the seemingly strongest force, while mae does not. maybe mae is a really really specialized clone and not the same soul, or was split after osha was created as the first true “being”? idek.

[mythicalcowboyatheart]

Ambrose part 1

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»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

Pairing: Bo Sinclair x reader x Vincent Sinclair

Warnings: Bo's a little creepy

A/n: i want to make this a series so this is only part 1 of idk. I also might change the title cuz I don't like it, and Vincent isn't on this first part but will be in others

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

You'd been walking for what felt like forever be for you reached the small town called Ambrose.

Your car had broke down five miles away luckily ware your tire popped was close enough for you to see a sign telling you about a wax museum not too far. Following the signs your ended up in the small town hoping to find help. When you passed the welcome sign you saw there was a gas station and walked to it and pushed the glass door open.

The bell above the door rang and you saw a man in a mechanic jumpsuit and a hat with his feet up on the desk at the front of the store. He sees you and smiles.

"Hello Darlin' Names Bo, what brings you to Ambrose?" You give him your name "My car broke down a few miles form here" you say "Awh poor thing got a flat tire?" You give him a confused look "Yeah actually how'd ya know?" "well darlin' that's about 97% of all problems on this road." He laughs "I assume you ain't from around' here" "Nah just passing through" you awnser shorty

"where you headin'?" Bo looks you up and down for a moment, taking in your figure and face."No specific place" "just travelling for fun?" He grins, raising one eyebrow, his gaze lingering on your body for a few seconds before returning to your eyes. "Something like that" you give a tight liped smile.

Bo smirks, leaning back in his chair "well darlin' you're a long ways from any type of civilization" "So I've noticed" you give a slight ackward chuckle. Bo chuckles back, watching you carefully, taking in your features and the way your dress hugs your curves. "So ya think ya could fix my tire for me? I don't know anything about cars so I'm kinda helpless" Bo grins, standing up and stepping closer to you "I can help ya with that, darlin', and maybe more" you give him a confused look again "More? what's that supposed to mean?" You ask Bo grins even wider, his eyes lingering at the hem of your dress "ain't nothin to worry bout" he looks you in the eyes. "why don't you wait here for me while I go change into some cleaner clothes then we can change that tire of your's" "Okay... Yeah that works" "great, I won't keep you waiting for long darlin'," Bo smiles, "make yourself comfortable" Bo says walking to what you assume is the bathroom of the shop.

'what a strange guy' you think to yourself 'strange but hot'

»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►»»———-►

BO-nus cuz this is cute

Part 2

[trippygalaxy]

UHM! HI this is just gonna be me rambling about some of my mutuals cause I cherish them all and everything they've done for me

no i will not be tagging them, the tumblr gods will decide if they find this or not

.

.

.

Cal, gods I have so much to say about them but they could honestly be their own post by themselves /pos. I -genuinely- wouldn't be here today if it wasnt for them, so many times have they unknowingly helped me out of horrible places in my life, and I could never put my love for them into words no matter how many poems i write in their honour. They are one of the best friends ive ever had in my life, they are the most genuine, selfless, precious people ive had the pleasure of knowing.

Maj- oh i miss talking to him so much you dont understand!!! I love love loved sending them silly stories in her askbox, their way of thinking and breaking down stories were the most delicious things! Not only that but the art??? Their ocs always enticed me and i would willing sit down and listen to them talk about them for hours if i could. They are FUCKING HALRIOUS TOO!!! They've -without even trying- have given me so many belly laughs when i needed that the most.

But i seem them in their new fandom with other moots and im so happy shes having fun /gen

GASP! MY SPOUSE!!! Fir! UGH i love them so much /p They are so encouraging, and they help me so much when it comes to stories and figuring stuff out- and they WROTE SO MUCH FOR ME???? IM SO GREATFUL FOR EVERYTHING THEY'VE MADE AND DONE FOR ME AND I WISH I COULD REPAY IT BACK 10 FOLDS! I feel so free when speaking with them, like im able to be a part of me where i cant with others and its- its so relieving.

Vaati- a genuine inspiration. I was a HUGE fan of his shifting sands series when I found it on instagram and when i say HE MOVED TO TUMBLR?! I WAS FUCKING ESTATIC!!!! Also very worried that his art got stolen but it was clear it wasnt- ANYWAYS! When I first found him, i was so ready to just give up on art -before my digital art era- because when i stared at my art all i saw was bland strokes of a pencil that could never be compared to what others had made, but when I found his comic that was FULLY TRADTIONAL I was stunned. I showed it to everyone I knew, whether they knew loz/lu or not, i needed them to see the talent and beauty I found. And he was the beginning of me starting to relearn to love traditional art again, and how much more beautiful it was to me compared to any digital piece

ARIA!!! I was in awe of her cute style- and i saw her make art for Sacred realm and i was HOOKED! Genuinely, I was like 'oop- have to be friends with her now' and though we dont talk that much, im constantly impressed with her growth even when she thinks its trash. That girl has SO much potential, and im estatic to see what she does with it. OH AND THE ART SHES MADE FOR FAROLA?! **MWAH!!!** Honestly she made me love Farola again-

Major, an unrated GEM, one of the most encouraging, heartfelt and creative person ive met on this site. She is, and will always be, someone I look to when I need a push or when im unsure about doing something (like this!) cause I know that she will never cease her amazing ability to encourage and inspire those around her.

Finky and Isa- some of the most iconic styles ive seen, its amazing to see them grow and keep their styles while still improving. AND THE AMOUNT OF ART AND IDEAS THEY MAKE??? Im stunned by how quick they are able to make their art and STILL HAVE IT BE AMAZING QUAILTY?! Witch craft I tell you!

Shade and Mossy, two people I sadly dont talk to much anymore, but were apart of one of the most important parts of my life so far. Both were such positive lights that kept pushing even when they got pulled back by others. Idk if its their stubbornness or determination that keeps them going, but whatever they have, I want it!

[bobamilkk]

Silly lil swap au!!! Steven’s mom is white diamond and the og 3 homeworld gems are the crystal gems!! Greg’s still his dad and most of early season one would be pretty much the same but with a more dysfunctional found family cuz they’re silly like that. The og crystal gems are now villains to be redeemed but in like. Slightly different ways idk man- With the diamonds it’s Pink in White’s place and then blue plays a bit more of an aggressive role than yellow does

-Jasper is the first time he sees a gem poof. It’s similar to the pearl episode but it’s a robot Peridot made instead of a pearl hologram- She gets frustrated with Steven not taking his battle training seriously and gets punched straight in the face because of it. She doesn’t stay in her gem nearly as long as pearl does and Peridot actually helps him when this weird lil robot keeps trying to fight him- The only reason Jasper doesn’t come back in a few hours is cuz she’s embarrassed she got poofed me thinks

-Sapphire comes to earth to use her future vision to see the status of the cluster and properly check on it- She has her group of 3 rubys with her and they manage to poof Jasper in the same manner of Garnet getting poofed by Jasper in canon. Ship chaos happens and Jasper manages to poof 2 of 3 rubies while the last one escapes in the escape pod with Sapphire. Steven bubbles the rubies cuz he’s silly like that and wants to make sure they’re going to be ok

-cue a couple fights later and Jasper gets frustrated that she’s lost a few battles to a lone ruby and a sapphire of all gems and starts pushing the other gems away and preventing them from fighting with her- She goes to attack Sapphire while Ruby’s catching her breath since she’s seemingly defenseless but Ruby jumps in and they fuse and sit there having a panic attack. Jasper stands there in shock for a moment cuz she’s not entirely used to fusion either before going to attack again-Only for Steven to jump in the way and save them

-Ruby’s getting stressed over the cluster and pacing in the barn so Lapis recommends Steven goes to show them what it’s like on earth-Cue Sapphire and Ruby slowly realizing they love each other. Also the frog. Steven shows them what a frog is and Ruby excitedly shows it to Sapphire. Gay people-They don’t fuse as often but like. By future they’re permanently fused?? But for the majority of the main series they only fuse when needed

-Amethyst comes to earth to collect Sapphire!! She has her limb enhancers to make up for her height n stuff- Idk how the baseball episode parallels will work but. They’re there. Somehow!! Garnet also gets to fuse to hide Sapphire since Amethyst wouldn’t expect a fusion idk anymore

-garnet somehow manages to poof Amethyst in her panic and Steven unbubbles her because he’s curious about her limb enhancers and peridot won’t tell her because she’s scared of him knowing too much about homeworld. She traps herself in the bathroom peridot style until Steven manages to make her realize she’s safe here and the cluster is bubbled and she’s allowed to be herself and doesn’t have to be afraid of being shattered for being defective if she messes up even slightly. She gets her peridot arc or smthn

-Greg gets taken to the human zoo like in canon but Pearls there with Holly Blue Agate to watch over the humans and their growth. She was sent there after white was shattered as punishment for failing her diamond and it’s seriously messed her up- She does see them being free tho and helps them escape with Greg without thinking- Steven offers for her to tag along and she hesitates until Holly Agate comes along and she immediately jumps in the ship

-Pearl watches Steven sleep like in canon but it’s. Creepier. It’s habit from the human zoo but she starts to investigate his gem in the process and realizes it’s her diamond aka white. She goes to remove the gem to free her diamond back-Maybe get her status back by having white back-Desperation type beat- only to wake Steven who panics and pushes her away- She panics massively and starts sobbing and calling him her diamond

-Instead of the loud distraction yell of “She’s Gone” from pink Steven- Steven accidentally mind controls pink for a split second and it makes them both tumble back- I don’t know fully how this scene would work tbh I gotta brainstorm more but. Ik white diamond Steven has a different set of powers than canon Steven- He’s got whites mind control powers n shit

-Bismuth takes the role of Spinel in the movie!! Not in the same abandoned sense but in a “you ruined our perfect plan” and wants to kill him for it whether her diamond wants her to or not- she’s silly like that!! She resets the gems like Spinel does and Jasper signs her life to Greg like pearl does- She carries him around n is super protective of him. Ma’am’s ready to kill someone on sight for Greg-

-Post-Corrupted Steven gets silly lil corrupted traits still. 1) his gem is flipped so it’s like a horn now 2) he’s got silly lil underbite fangs 3) spikes on his shoulders so his jacket is tied around his waist so it doesn’t get ripped 4) he’s like. Extra extra tired all the time someone save him

You should send me asks about the au it’d be so sexy of you /j

[sissylittlefeather]

This is the Story

Chapter 8

(Finally)

A/N: WHEW this was a tough one. Idk if it was the moon or what, but damn I had some writer's block. Special thanks to @ccab and @elvisfatass for helping shake me out of it. I had a bit of a writing hangover after the joy of Chapter 7. I hope you all enjoy this one!

ICYMI: This is the series with 1973 Elvis and the OC Grace Dubois, author and single mom of 6yo Wendy. Want to catch up? Here are the links:

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Warnings: 18+ MDNI SMUT, kissing, cussing, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Word count: 3.1k

In between each kiss, he whispers.

"I love you."

******

When morning comes, the sunlight streams in through the hotel window and across the bed, waking Grace. For a second, she forgets where she is, but she relaxes when she feels Elvis wrapped around her. She rolls over to look at him. His face is almost angelic as he sleeps peacefully, breathing softly.

Last night felt like a miracle and she's not ready to lose the feeling of safety in their hotel room bubble. She knows once they step outside, everything becomes complicated, but right now, here, in the light of the morning, she's at peace knowing he loves her and she loves him. Nothing else matters.

She runs her fingertip across his brow and down his cheek to his jawline, tracing the shadow of his facial hair that appeared overnight. Finally, she leans in and kisses the end of his nose, which causes him to stir a little. He reaches out and pulls her to him before he even opens his eyes. She's not sure she'll ever get used to the way her heart skips a beat when he touches her.

When he opens his eyes, a smile spreads across his face.

"Good morning, honey."

"Hi. How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have in a long time. You?"

"I'm a whole new woman." She stretches and he presses his hips into her, revealing his normal morning erection. "Oh, hello soldier!" She laughs, but then he pulls her into a kiss and she feels her arousal begin to form.

He kisses and nuzzles her neck and then moves down her chest. She hadn't intended to sleep naked, but the feeling of his skin on hers was too good to interrupt with clothing, so he has easy access to her breasts. He moans quietly as he drags his tongue in a circle around her nipple, pinching the other one softly. She arches her back as he kisses back up her neck and then she puts her leg over his hip. He slept naked too, so it doesn't take much for him to line himself up and slide inside her.

"Fuck yes." She moans loudly as he slowly thrusts against her.

"You've got a dirty mouth, doll." He smiles as he continues to fuck her gently.

"You love me." She smiles back at him.

"God, I really do." He leans in and kisses her passionately, rolling his hips rhythmically against her as they continue to make love. After a few more minutes, he rolls her onto her back and keeps going.

"Goddamn, baby. You feel so good." He grunts and kisses her shoulder. She wraps her legs around him and he starts to move faster.

"Don't stop." She whispers in his ear, breathily. She feels herself approaching the edge too as he pushes into her over and over. His dick is perfect to hit all the right places inside her and she can't get enough. He leans in and kisses her again as he pumps in and out of her.

"I'm close, baby." She nods.

"Me too." He picks up the pace just a little more and a minute or two later they both tumble over the edge of oblivion together, moaning and cussing in turns, him shuddering and filling her with his release and her pulsing around him.

This time she says it first, pushing his hair back off of his forehead and holding his face in her hands.

"I love you." He smiles and kisses her softly.

"I love you too, honey." He rests his head on her chest as she runs her fingers through his hair and massages his scalp. They're both reluctant to admit that they need to get up and go back to real life.

He has an idea and pops his head up to look at her.

"Wanna take a shower?" A smile crawls across her face and she nods excitedly. He jumps up and they make their way to the bathroom together. He starts the shower and she steps in, laughing and wrapping her arms around him as he pulls the curtain shut. Reality can wait a little while longer.

******

When Grace and Elvis finally roll up to her mom's house to pick up Wendy, it's lunch time. She doesn't think too much of it as she knocks on the door. This time Maryann answers.

"Mhmmm. Get in here, lovebirds." Grace protests and Elvis simply raises his eyebrows.

"What? We're not...?"

"I'm messing with you, sis." But Maryann smirks knowingly. They walk into the house and Grace makes her way back to the kitchen. Elvis is caught in some kind of game with the kids where he has to pretend to be shot and play dead, which he does easily. As soon as they are out of earshot Maryann rounds on Grace.

"You slept with him!"

"Maryann! That is really none of your business!" Ruth chimes in. Then she looks at Grace expectantly. They seem to be waiting for some kind of confession from her.

"Okay! Yes! I slept with him!" Her mother shakes her head.

"Was he? I mean... there's rumors... was it...? Is he as good as they say?" Maryann dances around the question, but finally gets to it. Grace responds with a smile and a single word.

"Better."

Ruth rolls her eyes and Maryann claps excitedly.

"Good. It's about damn time you got with somebody decent. He's a huge improvement, as far as I can tell." Maryann looks Grace dead in the eye. "Please don't let the fact that he's Elvis Presley ruin your happiness with him."

Grace, who has been sparkly-eyed and giddy all morning gets a little serious in response.

"I won't."

Maryann reaches out and squeezes her arm with a knowing smile. Ruth pulls her into a hug.

"I'm just happy you're happy."

******

Once everyone is loaded into the car and ready to drive back to Memphis, Elvis almost leans over to kiss Grace, but he notices Wendy is watching. Before he does anything he turns to her.

"Wendy, I'd like to kiss your mama. Is that okay with you?" Wendy smiles.

"Yes, please, Daddy." He nods in response and Grace laughs. Then he leans in and gives her a quick but sensual kiss on the lips. Wendy does a silent happy dance.

"Home, then?" Elvis looks to Grace and she nods. Somehow, Memphis has become home. He puts the car in drive and they set off on the long journey east.

******

It's dark when they pull into the driveway of Graceland, night coming earlier under the November moon. Grace is exhausted from the long drive.

"Stay here tonight?" Elvis offers up a suggestion to keep her from driving home so tired. She nods and they all head inside.

When they get there, though, Colonel Parker is waiting in the foyer.

"Where have you been, Mr. Presley?" Elvis freezes when he hears the voice and Grace can tell he's nervous to answer.

"He came to my mom's house for Thanksgiving. Is that a problem?"

"It's only a problem, my dear, if anyone saw you." The Colonel is staring daggers at Elvis, who returns his icy glare.

"Colonel, go home. This isn't your business."

"My boy, you are my business. And I'm not sure you're taking care of it properly."

"We'll talk about it tomorrow." Elvis opens the door for the Colonel to leave.

Grace knew things would be complicated when they got back to Memphis, but she didn't expect so much trouble from the Colonel. He walks out the door and looks back at Elvis.

"You will see, my boy. You will see." Then he makes his way to the driveway and disappears.

"Ignore him, please." Elvis turns Grace to him and wraps his arms around her. He kisses her forehead and she leans into the comfort of him against her. After a few seconds, he lets her go and turns to Wendy.

"Would you like to sleep in Lisa's room?" She nods excitedly and bounces up the stairs. Once she's settled in there, he walks with Grace to his bedroom. They both change into pajamas and climb into the big bed together. Everything about this feels so natural that they don't even question anything. She snuggles into him and thinks about what Maryann said.

Yes, there are aspects of his life that might make their relationship complicated, but this part, them together in bed, is the easiest thing she's ever done.

"I love you, honey." He whispers in her ear as he nuzzles into her hair from behind. She pulls his arm tighter around her and whispers in return.

"I love you, Elvis." They fall asleep there together like they plan to do it every night for the rest of their lives.

******

"Mr. Ebert, this is Colonel Parker. I apologize for the late call."

"Please, call me Frank. What do you need?"

"I'd like to request a new ghost writer for Elvis Presley's book."

"Is he dissatisfied with Grace?"

"Quite the opposite. Please send a male author this time."

"I'm sorry, sir, she's done too much work already. Starting over with a new author would take time that you just don't have if you want the book finished next year."

"Have you looked into her expense account recently? I believe there are some charges you might find interesting."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about. But I'll look into it."

"Please do. And after you do, send a man to finish the book."

******

Grace and Wendy spend the rest of the weekend at Graceland. For the most part, they're a happy little family living a decently quiet life. Elvis answers calls and has a meeting or two, but he makes time for Grace and Wendy when he can. Sunday night, Frank calls.

"Grace, why aren't you home? Paulette said you were with Elvis?" She puts her hand on her forehead. This won't be easy to explain.

"Yes. I, well, we, he came home to Tulsa with me and we got back Friday and Wendy and I are... still here..."

"Grace. I specifically told you to keep your distance. What are you doing?!"

"It's not... I..."

"Grace, do you need to be reassigned? Because his manager is asking for a new author."

"No, Frank, please don't. I'm still writing the book. We're just... friends..."

"Go to your apartment, Grace. And send Paulette back on your own dime. The higher-ups have requested that I shut down your expense account because of suspicious use. I will bring you home if I need to."

"Suspicious use? I'm working! I need my nanny!"

"Your expense account does not cover a babysitter for date nights with Elvis Presley." Grace feels the tears burn in the corners of her eyes. They haven't even been on a date yet. "Shut it down, Grace."

"Yes, sir." Elvis notices the change in her demeanor from across the room where he sits with Wendy. She hangs up the phone and turns back to him with tears on her cheeks.

"What happened?"

"We have to go back to the apartment."

"Says who?"

"My editor. He says if I don't keep our relationship professional, he'll bring me home and send a different author. I just don't know how he knew..."

"The Colonel. Goddamn that man." Elvis stands up in a mild rage. "My personal life is none of his goddamn business."

He walks to Grace and cups her face in his hands. She looks up at him as the tears slide down and he wipes them with his thumbs.

"I'm not ready for this to be over."

"Over? Honey, this is nowhere near over." He wraps his arms around her.

"But Frank said-"

"I don't give a damn what Frank said."

"He's my boss. I have to give a damn." Elvis pulls back and looks at her.

"Quit your job. Just stay here with me." Her eyebrows knit together in the center of her forehead.

"I can't do that, Elvis. I need my job. I have to know I have a backup if you... well..."

"If I what?"

"Well, if you... move on..."

"Move on? Are you suggesting that I would be unfaithful?"

"Elvis. Let's be realistic here. The only reason you're so captivated by me is that I'm here and all your fans are not. When you get back to Vegas or on tour, I'll be the furthest thing from your mind."

"Grace, I'm in love with you. You think that means nothing to me?"

"I think you've been in love before." He steps back like she slapped him, a look of utter betrayal on his face.

"Is that really what you think of me?"

"That's what I think of any man in your shoes. It's not a commentary on your character."

"Oh, well as long as it's not a commentary on my character. That's a pretty shitty thing to think, Grace."

"Well, I've had some pretty shitty things happen to me before from people that I trusted."

"I'm not him."

"No, but you're you."

"What the hell does that mean?" He raises his voice with this statement and Grace becomes keenly aware of Wendy's presence.

"Maybe we should just go."

"Maybe you should." She turns away from him and stomps up the stairs to pack her and Wendy's things. He picks up the closest knick knack and intends to throw it when he realizes Wendy is still sitting and watching him. Instead, he slams it down and walks out of the room. Wendy sighs and shakes her head.

A few minutes later, Grace comes down the stairs, suitcases in hand, still fuming. Elvis stands at the kitchen counter for a bit trying to decide if he wants to see her before she leaves. He knows he does, but he's still pretty upset about what she said.

"We're leaving!" He slams his hands on the counter and walks out to the foyer.

"I'll see you tomorrow? To work on the book?" She asks quietly without looking up at him.

"Sure." He responds. She nods, crying silently. There it is again: the overwhelming need to comfort her, even though he's angry with her. But he doesn't give in. Instead, he opens the door for her as she and Wendy make their way to her car.

When she gets to the car door, she looks back up at the house, but he's already shut the front door. She doesn't see him on the other side leaning against it near tears himself.

******

On Monday, there's a noticeable chilly tension between Elvis and Grace as they go back to talking about the book. He's dying to wrap his arms around her and she's desperate to lay her head on his shoulder and cry, but they maintain a healthy distance. Neither of them are sure where their relationship stands at this point or if it's even a relationship anymore. Grace knows the things she said were hurtful. And she didn't mean to say them. She was just so scared of being hurt again. She knew she couldn't fully rely on any man, not just Elvis. And he knows she had a point. He didn't have the greatest track record. Why should she trust him?

As she's packing up to leave, though, he reaches out and touches her face. She's just about to apologize when the Colonel bursts through the door and slams a tabloid on the desk. On the front page is a picture of Elvis and Grace walking together out of the hotel in Tulsa. The headline reads, "Presley's New Mystery Love: Too Soon After Divorce?"

"What the fuck?" Elvis says it first, but it's exactly what Grace is thinking.

"I told you this was a risk. You did not listen. And now you will pay the price in the media." The Colonel speaks slowly and deliberately. "As soon as they know who she is, and they will, then neither of you will be safe from them. Is this what you had in mind, my boy?"

"Of course not. I didn't even know anyone took our picture. What do we do?" He looks to the Colonel frantically and Grace backs away with her hand over her mouth.

Wendy's father will see this and there is no telling how he will respond. He's tried to reach out to Grace over the years and she's managed to stay away from him by keeping hidden. He was not the kind of man she wanted in her daughter's life. In a way, she had considered it a blessing that he'd left when he did. Now he will know where to find her and it's only a matter of time before he shows up.

"Grace?" Elvis turns to her as she stands with her back against the door and her hand over her mouth.

"I can't be here. I have to go." She gathers her things and runs for her car.

"Grace!" Elvis yells after her, but she doesn't stop. He can tell something is wrong, but he's not sure what. This is about more than just her picture in the newspaper. He gets to her car just before she pulls out.

"Grace! Talk to me. What's going on?" She rolls the window down.

"It's Wendy's father. If he finds me..."

"Then stay here. I'll protect you."

"No! Don't you see? This is exactly where he will come. I can't be here."

"Grace, I have guards and gates and, hell, an arsenal of guns here. Please stay." She looks up at him through the window, her hands shaking on the steering wheel.

"Wendy?"

"I'll send a car for her and Paulette right now." She nods her head slowly and turns the car off. He helps her out of the car and back up to the house. As they walk, she pauses and looks up at him.

"Don't shoot him." She smiles weakly.

"I can't make any promises, doll." He chuckles lightly.

Once inside, he sends Jerry to get Wendy and Paulette. Grace calls and tells Paulette to pack up as much clothing as possible for the three of them. She'll send Paulette home on the first plane out of Memphis.

The Colonel is in shock. He didn't expect this to be the response to his announcement. He hoped this would separate them further, but it seems to have brought them back together. He sneaks out, wheels turning in his mind.

Several hours later, Wendy is settled at Graceland and Jerry takes Paulette to the airport.

"Mama, are we going to stay here with Daddy now?" Wendy asks as Grace holds her close on the couch in the TV room.

"Yes, baby. For a little while at least."

"Good. I like it here." Grace smiles and kisses Wendy on the hair.

Elvis stands in the doorway protectively, watching the scene in front of him. He hasn't forgotten the hurtful things she said, but it doesn't change the fact that he loves her, and Wendy too. He can put his own feelings aside to make sure nothing happens to them.

******

Until next time!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @ashtag6887 @aliypop @your-nanas-house @dkayfixates @everythingelvispresley @xanatenshi @returntopresley @p0lksaladannie @deniseinmn @jaqueline19997 @that-hotdog @mykievolturi @18lkpeters @joshuntildawn13 @rjmartin11 @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [6]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 17,546 (next chapter is at most 10k i promise lol) 

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst, canon violence, blood, bruises, mentions of nightmares, ptsd, jason is a little bit of an asshole, mentions of being tortured, mentions of the roof scene, mentions of being kidnapped, yes i did put an utrh reference in here, i eventually fix things with bruce later

Summary:❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I tried to cut out some scenes from this chapter so I'm sorry lol but everything comes back at some point so it's important. I'm super excited for next chapter lol Also idk if you guys look at my chapter titles but sometimes, 2 chapter titles go together and this is one of those cases and I am so sorry lol It's from the song Destroy Me by PALESKIN if you were curious lol I hope you guys like it!! If you want context from book 1, let me know and I’ll tell you!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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By the time the next day comes, Jason and you are nearly as happy as you’ve ever been with each other. Finally, after everything that’s happened and after all these months, you have both the confirmation in your feelings. You have each other, wholly and solely. You are each other's and neither of you could possibly be happier. And for the first time, you're both doing your absolute best to ignore the anxiety that comes with that. For each other.

You both try to ignore the fear of one of you dying, or dying for each other. The fear of one of you leaving or giving up or pushing or running. For the first time, you both are finding it in yourselves to ignore those feelings because you are with the person you both trust the absolute most. And you both know, the other person deserves for you to suck up the fear and the anxiety and make a solid effort in not freaking out. Despite everything you’ve both ever known and been taught, you’re choosing each other and choosing to trust each other to always be by your sides. And you both are so happy. It’s practically euphoric.

“Good luck, Jay.” You offer Jason a sweet and gentle smile as you stand outside of Bruce’s car in front of a large house.

He is not thrilled about this. He’s done it before, several times. It’s exhausting seeing a new shrink, again, and having to tell the same damn stories over and over again. He gets the same diagnoses and that's the end of it. It never really helps. He’s left with another person knowing more about him than he would ever really like. It’s exhausting but it’s this or he’s not Robin anymore. Jason doesn’t give up that easily.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs, looking to his shoes and back to you. “Thanks.”

“You’ll be fine and it’ll help.” Your smile grows as you pick his hand up in yours.

“We’ll see.” Jason chuckles softly. “Be here when I’m done?” Jason asks with the raise of his brows, hopeful.

In all honesty, you're masking this a bit more tolerable. You promised you’d always come with to drop him off and pick him up. Bruce doesn’t exactly trust you to drop him off. He thinks maybe you’ll ditch the appointments. So, you promise to come with and if you have to spend an hour with Bruce, you’ll do it for him. And he can then bitch to you all he wants about how the shrink doesn’t know shit and Bruce is ridiculous for making him do it. As long as he goes, you’ll be there. Before and after.

“Of course.” You chime, closing the distance between you and capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“Would rather keep doing this.” Jason mutters against your lips as he snakes his hands onto your waist.

“Too bad.” You kiss him again. “Your mental state comes first, Jaybird.”

Jason chuckles against your lips. “Yeah, alright, princess.”

You laugh softly. “Okay, get in there before you’re late.” You pull away and your smile is gentle. “I love you.” You beam, smiling with full teeth and your eyes are brighter than Jason has ever seen before.

“Love you, too.” Jason chuckles as the fluttering of his heart nearly sends him into cardiac arrest.

You watch Jason walk up the driveway and to the front door before he knocks. You watch and wait until a woman greets him and allows him into her home. A part of you thought maybe he’d try to bail out of it. Actually make a solid effort to anyway. You almost expected him to walk up the driveway and then sprint behind the house and take off, leaving you and Bruce to chase after him. But there he is, going into a therapist’s house on his own and you're happy for him. Relieved.

You don’t always think therapy will help but nothing else is helping him and at the end of the day, he needs help even if he wants to insist he’s fine. Everyone else around him knows he’s not. The limp isn’t because he’s still hurt. You know Bruce well enough to know he would have Jason checked out by a doctor to verify he was fine. It’s in his head which makes it all feel the same as if there were something physically wrong with him. He needs help. And he thinks no one notices his hands and the terrified expression after a nightmare. He can’t work through all his problems alone and he never should have had to. And you're proud of him for doing it even if he’s only doing it so he can be Robin. The point is that he’s going.

“What do we do now?” You ask Bruce as you get back into the front seat.

Bruce almost laughs. You and Jason have been beating around the damn bush since you showed up and you're finally doing something about it. Of course, never mentioning what that thing is to him and he finds the whole exchange a little amusing. Bruce has never told anyone, but Jason has always reminded him a little bit of himself. But, Jason is his son and you clearly make him happy.

“We could grab lunch while we wait.” Bruce offers.

“That’s fine.” You offer Bruce a soft smile.

Your issues remain with him. A part of you thinks Jason’s problem is still Bruce. Bruce was a lot of Dick’s issue. Had Bruce gotten Dick into therapy instead of giving him a mask and a cape, maybe Jericho wouldn’t have died because Dick would have been able to handle his problems better. Or, at the very least, maybe Dick could have handled that entire situation better and it wouldn’t have led Jason and you after Dr, Light. Maybe it wouldn’t have led Jason to the roof that day. Dick is an adult who can handle his own problems, but he was just a kid who was never taught how and you think the same is said for Jason.

Jason’s case is a little different. He wasn’t thirteen when Bruce took him in. But, maybe Bruce still could have done better. You do, however, admire the fact he’s trying now and maybe that’s what matters. He’s here now and trying and doing the one thing that might actually help. Forcing him to get help before he’s Robin again. You will never admit that to anyone though. So, you just go along with him for lunch and try your best.

After lunch, Bruce and you head back to pick up Jason. He’s not feeling great after the therapy session. He was never one that liked it very much. He was tossed around between therapists and psychiatrists while he was in the system. It was always repeating the same story over and over again, none of them offering anything that ever really helped. It was always more a state requirement and not because anyone actually gave a shit where his mental health stood. This therapist seems different than the others but like with everyone, Jason isn’t sure he trusts her. He gave her the same spiel about his parents and asked about her because that seemed easier than the same old boring story. But, she at least communicated with him and that part was at least nice.

“So, how did it go?” You ask once you're back at the manor in your room and away from Bruce. “You don’t have to tell me what you talked about or anything. Just asking how it went.” You shrug with ease.

“Fine, I guess.” Jason shrugs his shoulders as he stands near your fireplace. “Still not fucking happy about it.” A chuckle leaves his lips.

“Figured.” You match the chuckle, leaning back onto your hands, the bed soft under your palms. “When do you go again?”

“Next week.” Jason scoffs.

“Well, I’ll be there for you.” You smile softly at him and Jason thinks that’s the only upside. At least you’ll be there before and after.

“Yeah, thanks.” Jason lets out a breath. “Okay, well fuck that shit.” He approaches you, his eyes narrowing slightly as a smirk splits his lips. “Get ready. We’ve got a date to have.” He leans down, resting his hands on either side of you.

He’s tired of talking. He doesn’t want to talk about it. He’s going to do everything in his power to avoid it today. It’s too heavy and he wants today to be perfect. It’s your first date. Officially, as a couple.

“Oh, we’re going soon?” You perk up as your stomach swirls. This is real. It’s happening.

“Hell yeah. Got a whole fucking night planned, babe.” His voice is low and the way he smiles like this, the light hits his canines just right and it looks like he has small fangs. He’s so endearing.

“What are we doing?” You beam with excitement as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’ll see. Go get ready.” Jason urges, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Okay, Jay.” You peck his lips before Jason pulls up and lets you out of his grasp.

You get up and go to get ready. And Jason starts to feel nervous.

Technically, him and Rose never went on an official date. They mostly ran around Gotham, doing busts and then spent more of their time hiding out in someone’s house. There were no official dates. And come to think of it, Jason doesn’t think he’s ever done this before and he’s thinking maybe he went a little overboard with what he has planned. But he knows you better than anyone and he knows what you like. But then he comes back to realizing maybe he doesn’t know what you would like in forms of a date, it might be different than your usual thing. He’s just hoping he doesn’t royally fuck this up like he tends to have a habit of doing.

You meet Jason back in his room. You don't do much with your hair or your makeup, keeping both mostly the same as usual but you wear one of your nicer jackets. And even then, he swears you look beautiful. He smiles softly at you. He’s so in love with you and he really hopes you like the date.

He walks up to you and takes your hand in his. He hopes you don’t notice his hands are cold and clammy. You do but you think it’s cute. Jason nervous is not something that happens very often but the idea of him being nervous for your date, makes your head swim and your bones vibrate. He’s so cute.

The two of you head off on Jason’s bike, arriving at a movie theater in the city. Jason takes you to see a movie you mentioned wanting to see. It’s simple but it’s something he knows you really like movies. And he’s not one for big fancy dates. This is simple and it’s you. You find the gesture adorable because you don’t like the idea of a fancy restaurant either. This is kind of your thing. You’d go with a group sometimes, sure, but it’s your way of showing him how much you care. Showing him your things and movies is one of those things. And you adore him for it.

After the movie, you head back to the manor where Jason has insisted the date isn’t over yet. While he’s not one for something fancy, he is one for making an effort. Words are hard, they always have been and he knows sometimes he’s never going to be able to tell you exactly what you mean to him. But, for your first date, he can make as big of an effort as he can to show it. Even though you don’t need him to. You already know.

“Okay, keep your eyes closed.” Jason states as you both stand in the main living room, his hand intertwined with yours.

“If you walk me into a door, Jason--”

“I won’t!” Jason laughs. “Do you trust me?” He asks and it’s a little sarcastic and cocky.

“Yes.” You mock, keeping your eyes closed but you want to roll your eyes at him.

“Okay, so trust me.” Jason states as he leads you through the kitchen and into the courtyard.

He looks around, letting out a breath and he definitely owes Molly and Bruce for this one. Though, he thinks they’ll be giving him enough shit that maybe he won’t have to.

“Okay, you can open.” Jason nearly holds his breath as you open your eyes to see the backyard.

There’s a projection screen in the grass with a projector on one of the outdoor tables. Blankets and pillows cover the grass in front of the screen. The tables are lined with a variety of snacks, all of them being your favorite. And there are fairy lights decorating the rest of the courtyard.

Jason remembers what you said about that scene in Tangled, with the lanterns. Fairy lights aren’t lanterns, but they give somewhat of the same effect. So, he took inspiration from it. Because maybe, Jason’s a little bit of a hopeless romantic underneath the trauma. And he’d do anything for you. Cliche and cheesy and all.

“You--how?” You look over at him, eyes wide and a smile tugging at your lips. A lump forms in your throat as your entire chest nearly combusts into flames.

“I asked Molly and Bruce for help while we saw the movie.” Jason grins at you. “You didn’t really think we were just watching a movie for our first date, did you?” Jason quips, hiding his nervousness under his cocky grin.

“You asked for help?” You ask and you're not sure what’s more surprising. The courtyard or Jason asking for help. “I actually knew we’d go see a movie but this? Wow.” You look around, your voice soft and tender.

“Yeah.” Jason scoffs. “Look, you deserve it and you liked that scene in Tangled so. I needed some help while I distracted you.”

You swear it’s perfect because at the end of the night, it’s just him and you. It’s him and you in the courtyard watching your favorite movies. It’s him and you when it matters. He’s thoughtful and caring and kind and loving. Jason has only ever known pain and neglect but when it comes to you, he manages to show love and tenderness. You don’t really understand how he manages it but you're eternally grateful for this boy with dark hair and green eyes.

“It’s beautiful.” You say softly. “Thanks, Jay.”

“You like it?” Jason asks, stuffing his hands into his front pockets, something you've picked up he does when he’s nervous.

“Yes, of course!” You beam. You let go of his hand and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him for a deep kiss. His hands meet your hips as if on instinct, giving a light squeeze.“What’re we watching?” You ask against his lips.

Jason pulls away and there’s a grin of pride and confidence this time. “I’ve got Ready Or Not lined up since we didn’t get a chance to see it before it left theaters and Little Women. I read the book and the trailer seemed good. I think you’ll like it.” Jason states as he squeezes your hips again.

“Do you really remember everything I tell you? And I did want to see Little Women, just didn’t think you’d be into it.” You chuckle softly.

“Yeah,” Jason’s chuckle is gentle this time, bashful even. “It’s important to you.” He rolls his shoulders. “See, I know you.” Jason grins at you, wiggling his brows.

“Yeah, you do.” You scrunch your nose before pressing another kiss to his lips and dropping your arms from him. You head over to the snacks. “This is really nice, Jay.” Your smile is gentle and you love him with every fiber of your existence. “Thank you.”

“You deserve it.” Jason holds his head with pride, joining you to grab snacks.

“I get to plan the next date.” You offer him a devious smirk.

“Now, that’s unsettling.” Jason teases. “But fine.”

The two of you grab your snacks and head off to the blankets and pillows that are laid out for you before Jason starts the first movie. The two of you cuddle up with each other, attention mixing between the movie and each other. Your legs are rested over him as his arm is behind you and you just exist together.

To love, wholly and honestly, is terrifying because of the pain that seems to be intertwined with love. To love is to be brave and honest and optimistic. To love is something powerful but, to be loved back, that’s the greatest feeling in the world.

It’s the acceptance and understanding that comes with being loved back. It’s being loved for every broken piece and every bad, ugly, and terrible moment that comes. It’s knowing there will be bad days and hard days where the world seems to want to destroy every happy and peaceful moment, but choosing that person anyway. Falling in love is accidental, but staying in love is done on purpose. And that is why it’s so indescribable and remarkable and powerful. It is choosing to love and be loved back, risking the pain. And at the end, it’s worth it.

For Jason. And for you.

Over the next few days, everyone gets the news you and Jason have finally made things official. Gar and Kory actually kind of figured you were together. It was more of an inside joke with the Titans back in San Francisco. How long it was going to be before the two of you realized you were actually dating. Gar won. Dick wasn’t in on it (mostly because he thought you were friends this whole time who were just too oblivious and stubborn to say anything). So, they’re all happy to see the two of you happy together. Even Conner who didn’t really get a chance to know Jason and who only knew you for a short time.

Molly is your biggest fan though. She’s the best friend of the two of you. Her best friends are dating each other and she knows you’re both stubborn as hell with minimal self-preservation unless it comes to your hearts. You’ve both always been so guarded and she swears up and down, you’re supposed to be together. You’re the most guarded people she’s ever met and yet, the two of you manage to open up to each other. She swears you’re meant for each other. 

Today, Jason goes out with Molly while you hang back at the manor to have a training session with Bruce and a marathon with Gar afterward. The training session is fine but it's definitely not as fun without Jason. So, you're relieved when you can just sit down and have your marathon with Gar, filling him in a little bit on you and Jason. He's really happy for you both and it means a lot to you. He's your best friend.

But, with the marathon underway, it’s interrupted as Bruce walks into the living room.

“Excuse me.” Bruce calls from the doorway, pulling your attention away from the show and Gar.

“Is that Bruce Wayne?” Gar beams.

“Yes.” You furrow your brows at the screen before looking back at Bruce. “Oh, did you need the living room? I can move to my room.”

“No, no.” Bruce shakes his head. “You're fine in here. I was wondering if I could speak to you, however.”

“Uh…” You look back to your screen. “We’re…we’re kind of watching something, can we talk later or do you need to talk now?” You don’t know why he didn’t just talk to you earlier.

“I would like to talk now before Jason gets home.” Bruce states.

“Oh…” You widen your eyes before looking at the screen. “Pause it and I’ll call you back when we’re done?”

“Yeah, yeah of course. Hey, Bruce.” Gar chimes.

“Hello, Garfield.” Bruce chuckles slightly as he walks further into the living room.

“Okay, I’ll call you soon. Don’t continue without me.” You warn with a fake glare that turns into a cheeky smile before you end the call.

Bruce takes a seat at the armchair beside the couch and you watch him cautiously. It’s weird. You don’t really talk one-on-one and if you were being honest, you prefer it that way. You're growing to like Bruce, slowly. He doesn’t seem so bad. It’s just, every time you have that thought, you can hear Dick in the back of your head warning you. And Jason telling you about Dick taking out one of the trackers he knew about and how he shouldn’t do that because Bruce is looking out for them. And you catch yourself keeping your distance. So, you don’t normally talk like this unless you have to and it’s sending off alarms in your head.

“What’s up?” You ask slowly.

“How are you?”

You raise a brow at him. It’s weird because Bruce definitely doesn’t seem the type to be asking someone how they are. “Uh…fine. Yeah, I’m fine.” You nod at him, giving him a soft smile. “Why?” Your eyes narrow with suspicion.

“You have been through a lot. I wanted to make sure you were okay with everything that has happened.”

“Uh…yeah? Still fine, just the usual, I guess.” This is fucking weird. Even for Bruce Wayne. “Why didn’t you ask earlier?”

“We were training. I didn’t want to distract you.” Bruce sucks in a deep breath.

“Um…okay. Well, I’m fine. I’m just trying to watch some stuff with Gar.” You nod your head and he said he wants to talk before Jason gets home which means there is something about Jason he wants to talk about. “Bruce, I appreciate you checking up on me but if I’m being honest, I think you know I’m fine or that I will be and I am getting better because I know Dick and Jason filled you in. So, I think you’re asking how I am so you can ask about Jason.”

“I do want to know how you are.” Bruce defends in his usual stoic way that's somehow a little unsettling.

“Yeah, no, I mean I’m sure you care and everything. But, if what you really want to know is about Jason, you can just ask.” You let out a sigh and you can’t understand why these bird boys have to beat around the damn bush so much. “If you wanted to ask about me, it wouldn’t matter if Jason were home.” You nod your head as you scrunch your nose.

Bruce lets out something you think might be a chuckle. “Is he okay?”

You blink at him because you can’t believe he’s asking you that. Surely, he knows. That’s why he’s going to therapy because he’s not. Seriously what is it with the batboys that they can’t just talk?

“You sent him to a shrink?” You question.

“I mean,” Bruce clarifies. “Since going. He hasn’t said much to me. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

Truthfully, if Bruce actually wanted to be honest, that isn’t really why he’s asking. He sees a lot of himself in Jason. That is the problem. He doesn’t want Jason running himself into the ground over being Robin. Bruce has done that to himself too many times. He’s been thinking about it and what Jason means to him as a son. He’s worried about him, even with the therapy. Bruce knows you care about him. He hopes that’s enough for you to give him some insight

“Why?” You ask slowly as you narrow your eyes.

“He’s my son and I’m worried about him.” Bruce answers candidly.

“Yeah, no, I mean why are you asking me?” You shake your head, a snip your voice. It’s not your job to communicate for the two of them. They’re adults.

“I thought you might know.” Bruce nods.

“Of course, I know, I know everything about him. But you should know if he’s okay.” You widen your eyes as you furrow your brows. “He’s your son.”

Bruce lets out a sigh of defeat but you keep talking.

You have more to say. It’s not your job to communicate between the two of them but it’s clear someone needs to. You don’t care much for Bruce but Jason does. And that’s important. And he’s not okay. You think seeing Leslie will help him but, maybe telling Bruce isn’t such a bad idea. Jason needs the help and that means telling Bruce.

“Bruce, I think Jason Todd has never been okay a single day in his life.” Your voice is quiet and normally you wouldn’t be saying anything but it’s gotten to the point where you're really worried about him.

You being officially together over the last week has been absolutely incredible. You both are certainly the happiest you’ve both ever been with each other. But, Jason is derailing anyway and you always knew it would happen. Your validation for him is not what he needs. It will never be the thing that he needs because you're not Bruce and you're not Dick and that’s fine. It is never about your validation when it comes to him. His issues lie with the two of them, not you. So, Bruce making him see a therapist, is driving him a little bit insane. It’s only been a week though, so you hold out hope maybe it’ll help in the long run. But, you tell Bruce anyway because he should know. He always should have known.

Bruce nods with understanding. “He has not had an easy life.”

“Yeah, no shit.” You let out a scoff. “I think saying he hasn’t had an easy life is putting it lightly.” There’s a snark and a bite to your voice because you can just hear Dick in the back of your head.

Not to trust him. It doesn't matter that Bruce and Dick sorted out their shit. A part of him doesn’t trust Bruce and every time you think maybe, just maybe, Bruce has changed enough where Dick is wrong, he says something or does something where you know he hasn’t. This is one of those things. He shouldn’t be asking you if Jason is okay or saying he hasn’t had an easy life. It’s his literal job to know if Jason is okay and how to help him. It shouldn’t be up to you to tell him.

Bruce nods. “It’s been rough for him.”

“Ya know, it’s just….I don’t think Jason has ever felt….protected, safe, cared for….or loved in….at least most of his life. He felt, at least, most of that here and as Robin but all of that is gone and Deathstroke changed a lot of that. Bruce, he’s not okay and I am only even telling you this because I’m worried.”

Being happy in a relationship doesn’t make the pain of everything traumatic that’s happened just go away. It doesn’t work like that. It doesn’t suddenly fix and mend and cure mental illness. You wish it did but it doesn’t. Being happy and traumatized can co-exist. He is happy with you and you know that, but in the last week, he’s still waking up screaming from nightmares and he’s still limping after training. He’s still terrified. And you're endlessly worried about him.

“He can’t be Robin again, not yet. I made mistakes with Dick and I don’t want to repeat them with Jason. That’s why I want him to see Leslie.”

It’s not that you agree or disagree with it. But you do want to know why Bruce treats Jason and Dick the same way. They’re wildly different people. Maybe taking Robin from Dick and sending him to therapy would have worked, simple as that. But Jason isn’t Dick. Robin means everything to him. Why can’t he be Robin and see Leslie? Why does he have to be benched entirely instead of half the week even? It’s just not very fair to Jason, in your opinion.

“Okay, I get that, but you know Jason. He’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin.” You shake your head. “He’s going along with it for right now and maybe it’ll help. I hope it does, but what if it doesn’t?” You raise.

“We’ll have to have that conversation if we get there.”

“Okay yeah, and what you want him to just see a shrink for the next year with his fingers crossed he’s not permanently benched from the most important thing in his life? Only for something to happen and you rip it away from him entirely?”

“You believe he should be Robin at this point? You just said yourself he is not okay. It’s not safe for him to be out there. Do you think it would be safe to send him out there if he is deemed not well enough?”

It's not that. It's that you know, firsthand, that Jason will absolutely go out of his way to prove himself. You both do it. Jason isn't going to be able to stay benched for months on end. He's just not going to. And you know that. The fact Bruce doesn't when he knows why Jason wanted to go after Dr. Light, is infuriating. And it scares the hell out of you.

He's going to prove himself if Bruce doesn't give him Robin back eventually. One day, Jason is gonna think he's had enough and he just needs to prove himself and he'll try. The last time that happened, you both were kidnapped, tortured, and dropped from a skyscraper. And that is lucky. Somehow, that was actually lucky because you both made it out alive. What happens if he doesn't get so lucky next time?

“Whatever I think about him being Robin is completely irrelevant. It’s not my place to have an opinion. It is yours but…I’m just saying, he’s gonna prove to you he can be Robin eventually. He’ll get bored and tired of waiting.” You state. “He did in San Francisco.” You shake your head. “He’s gonna get himself killed one day if he does that, to prove you wrong.”

With Robin off the table, the training sessions have gotten…a little nuts. He’s rougher than usual and you can handle it just fine, he's not out of control. But he’s more relentless. He’s training himself into the ground again. He just wants to prove to Bruce that not only is he capable, but he’s better than Dick ever could be. Without even realizing it, Bruce doing this and the way he treated Dick, he’s pitting them against each other. And Jason is set on proving to Bruce he’s fine. No matter the cost.

“He won’t do that. He knows the rules. If I tell him not to go—“

“Dude, seriously? We knew the rules in San Francisco, too and then we went anyway. Jason is your responsibility and you have to do something, I can do everything I can but it’s not gonna be enough.” You stress because even when you have hope that therapy is gonna help over time, you aren’t sure if Jason is actually going to put in the time to let it work. And you're worried what will happen if he quits.

“I can’t let him be Robin and let him get killed out there. You said yourself, he will get killed out there. I made mistakes in the past, I cannot repeat them.”

A part of you want to blow. You were always right about him. He wouldn’t have to worry so damn much if he would stop recruiting kids to be fucking Robin. He wouldn’t have to worry so much if he would stop weaponizing their grief. He turned Jason and Dick into weapons and he’s, somehow, the one paying the consequences of that. You think the whole thing is ridiculous. It’s like he doesn’t see what he’s done to either of them and how fucked up this whole thing is. But, that’s not your place to tell him off about him recruiting people. For Jason’s sake. So, you decide you're gonna fall back on your usual reasoning for having a distaste towards him.

“Okay, you know what, you wouldn’t have to worry so fucking much if you’d just kill those fucks. Like, you know that right?” You snip.

“We do not kill people.” Bruce’s jaw squares just slightly. “We talked about this. Once you kill one person, it gets easier to kill the next until the lines blur. We cannot be the ones deciding who lives and who dies.”

You let out a scoff followed by a hollowed laugh. “And at what point is that not good enough?” You grit your teeth. “How many times have you captured the Joker?”

Bruce knows the number but he won’t say. “Several. I always catch him.”

“And every time Joker escapes, he kills at least one person. So, if over the last 10 years, you got more than 10 people killed by letting the Joker roam around and one of those people were my mom.” A lump forms in your throat with the mention of your mom. It’s some sick joke him and the Joker like to play almost. It’s like a damn game of chicken in the worst fucking way. “You let the Joker kill my mom. I’m not talking about Penguin or Scarecrow, I’m talking about killing the Joker. He puts bombs in buildings for fun. He’s killed thousands of people since I’ve been alive. You could have saved those innocent people if you would have just killed the Joker.” You shake your head. “And he’s the main one you’re worried about, right? He just escaped Arkham again, right?”

You shake your head and this whole thing is insane. It’s not even that you expect Bruce to toss his morals out the window. But you think it’s something he should consider if he's so damn worried about it. Deathstroke was different. He was the best mercenary in the world. You and Jason never stood a chance but the fuckeads here? Bruce’s usuals, they aren’t much concern besides one. And you know it. That’s why you’re having this talk right now.

“It’s the Joker. We literally laughed in Penguin’s face. Mr. Freeze, Bane, Scarecrow, and Mad Hatter are all locked up. Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy aren’t even a concern. The Riddler doesn’t kill people. I know you are not worried about fucking Condiment Man or Kite Man. I can keep going. But it always comes back to the Joker being the main concern, if Jason fucks up out there with him, that's it. Right?”

Bruce gains a scowl. He doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. You aren’t right but you aren’t wrong either. “It is not just about the Joker. And I cannot cross that line.” Bruce states firmly. “You should know that. You cannot cross that line either. The Joker is still a person and I will not determine if he gets to live or die. That is not how this works.”

“And what are you gonna do when he kills Jason? Or Dick? Or the next Robin? It’s gonna happen, it will. He’ll kill one of them eventually and then it’ll be too late.”

“I will not kill him for a what if situation.” Bruce lets out a sigh and this is not where he thought this conversation was going to go. A part of him thinks there’s a chance you're doing this on purpose to avoid telling him more about Jason. You're good at deflecting and not just when it’s about yourself. “That is not justice.”

“Then the guilt will eat you alive when it happens and then I’ll find a way, myself, to kill whoever kills him. Joker’s death is inevitable regardless and you could prevent the death of your sons.” You shake your head and get up from your spot, grabbing the tablet from the table. “I respect what you try to do as Batman and taking in Dick and Jason. I think that’s admirable. But, I think everyone has morals and sometimes you have to toss your morals aside for the greater good.”

“Even if that means someone has to die?”

“The Joker is a homicidal psychopathic sadist…so yeah. I don’t narc, I don’t tell anyone what happens with me and Jason, ever. But I’m telling you that he is not okay. Putting my morals aside because I care about him. I know you do, too, but you need to figure out how to get that through his thick skull or let him be Robin. It’s that simple. Always has been. Always will be.” You end the conversation, heading back to your room because that conversation was going nowhere and it never will.

You feel your blood boil and there is just something about Bruce sometimes. You don’t see it. You don’t see why Jason looks up to him so much. Maybe it’s just because Bruce saved him. Maybe some part of Jason is so hung up on that that he can’t see through Bruce’s other bullshit. But it irks you anyway, even when Bruce is genuinely trying to be better with him.

You just find the whole thing real rich. If he didn’t want to watch his kids die, he shouldn’t have offered them the vigilante lifestyle from the beginning. Maybe they both would have ended up here anyway. They both like to help people and that can’t be just a Bruce thing. But, maybe it would have been safer.

Maybe had Bruce offered therapy from the start, it would have been better or if he could just have a damn conversation with them. Literally, anything could work besides what he’s doing now. Training them to be brainwashed, taking them out to the cabin, training their bodies into a world of pain. Manipulating them with the idea of being invincible because of a mask and a cape. Anything has to be better than that.

And you feel like you can’t even tell Jason about it because he’ll get mad and annoyed further with Bruce. He’ll be annoyed he went to you to talk. And you know him, you just know he’ll think it’s because Bruce doesn’t think he’s good enough and you can’t let him think that about himself. And it is not your place to complain about his adoptive father. So, you keep it to yourself as you grind your teeth and call Gar back.

You pretend everything is fine as you and Gar continue your marathon until Jason gets home a few hours later.

“Hello, beautiful.” Jason chimes as he stands in the doorway of your room.

You look over with burning cheeks. He looks happy right now. So, you smile back, pretend like you aren’t still annoyed with Bruce. The call with Gar helped but then he had to go and the annoyance flooded you once more.

“Jaybird.” You say with ease as Jason walks into your room, tossing his jacket onto the end of your bed.

“How’s Gar?” He presses a kiss to your forehead before sitting down beside you.

“Good.” You answer simply as you suck in a breath. “He, uh, he misses us and Rachel but he said he’s good. He really likes being a Titan, you know Gar.” You laugh softly.

“He could come visit.” Jason chuckles softly.

He misses him, too. They lived down the hall from each other for four months and went through some crazy shit together. They’re best friends. Jason thinks it’d be cool to have Gar come. He could show him the Batcave.

“That’s what I said.” You widen your eyes. “He said he’d ask Dick about it.”

“Cool.” Jason laughs softly.

“Yeah.” You let out a breath as you look back to the tablet.

Jason watches you carefully and he knows you. Something’s off. You usually have more to say. You usually ask about Molly or whatever Jason is up to when he comes back home. You didn’t this time and you look like you're not really here with him. Your eyes are distant. The corners don’t crinkle when you laugh. Your jaw is clenching and you didn’t even mention what you and Gar watched.

“You going out tonight?” He asks and his words are a little flat.

He doesn’t mean for them to be. But, it’s sore. You still go out with Bruce. You asked him what you should do because you didn’t want to overstep. Going out on patrol with Bruce is Jason’s thing. But, you don’t really want to give it up either. You love patrolling and the more you do it, the more you understand why Robin has become Jason’s entire world. But, if Jason asked you not to go with Bruce, you wouldn’t. You’d go on your own if you had to. But, Jason assured you it was fine even if it hurts, even if he wants to tell you to not to do it. Even if feels like you're overstepping.

You shake your head and furrow your brows, bringing your attention back to him. “No, I just wanna stay here with you tonight.” You scrunch your nose, trying not to set off Jason’s alarm bells.

You don’t want to be around Bruce. The only thing you want to do is be with Jason tonight. You love patrolling but not tonight. Not tonight when you're reminded of the cruelty you face every day and the life-or-death stakes that exist outside of this manor. Outside of this safe bubble. The conversation, knowing the Joker is out there and likely who Bruce will be trailing tonight, reminds you of what could happen out there. You know. You already know but sometimes conversations take place and it becomes real. Patrolling and fighting, that’s fun and it’s easy to forget the stakes. And while you're terrified of Jason dying, he’s not the one going out there right now. You are. What would he do if you didn’t come home?

You just want to stay here with him tonight. It’s too heavy tonight.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asks, searching your face for any indicators.

“Nothing.” You lie. “Can’t want to stay in for a night with my boyfriend?” You say it like that on purpose but Jason sees through it.

You aren’t as insistent on patrol as he is. But you haven’t missed a single night since you got the suit. You're turning it down and he doesn’t get why. There’s something wrong and he knows it. He always knows.

“I know your fucking obsessed with me,” Jason starts with a chuckle, earning himself an eye roll. “But, I know when something’s going on with you.”

“It’s nothing, Jay.” You sigh. “I just want to stay in.”

“What happened?” Jason pushes, gritting his teeth because now he’s thinking someone did something. To you.

He thinks of the conversation with Molly, how she thinks you'll run. She told him she's worried that you're gonna be the one to fuck it up, not him. And that if you do, Jason should just not let you, even if he wants to push. It's what you both do, push and run. Molly is right. It’s what you do but if you both don't want to hurt each other, you both need to find a way not to do that. So, he tries.

“Can you drop it, please? I’m fine.” You rest a hand on his cheek, offering a tender smile. “Thank you.”

“Worried about you.” Jason states.

“How the tables have turned.” You widen your eyes, dropping your hand.

“I’m fucking serious.” Jason doesn’t so much as grin at you.

He can’t lose you. He is so certain of that. He can’t lose you in any capacity. So, he pushes just as you do with him. There’s something wrong and if someone did something, to scare you out of going on patrol, he doesn’t care what Bruce says. He’ll go back out there.

“I….Bruce he talked to me about something and I just…” You grit your teeth. “I don’t want to go out tonight.” You shrug your shoulders, voice laced in annoyance.

“What did he do?” There’s a mix of anger and confusion in his voice. Jason trusts Bruce but he knows as much as you fake it, he knows you don’t.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “Just, uh…Joker was brought up and you know. Shit sucks. So I just don’t want to go out tonight.” You bite your tongue with every worry you have because you can’t burden him with it.

You can't put worried thoughts into his head. He has enough going on. And you know that he does worry, in his own way, when you're out there. He's more subtle than you are and he's not nearly as paranoid but he loves you and wants you to be safe. It's a natural thing. You don't want to add to that burden by saying you're worried about what he'd do if you died. On top of the rest of the conversation with Bruce, it's just too much and you don't want him to deal with it. Not right now.

“Your mom?” Jason asks.

“Yeah.”

“You know you can tell me, right?” Jason questions, getting the feeling it’s more than that. When it involves your mom, you're sad and you tell him. You seem annoyed today.

“I know.” You offer a weak smile. Guilt feeling heavy in your chest. “It’s just….it’s heavy today and I’m tired of it being heavy. I’m fine though, Jaybird. Can you just…..read to me when Bruce leaves, please?”

Jason nods softly, moving closer to you. “Yeah, of course. Did you want to talk about it?” He asks before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Thanks, Jay.” You smile softly. “No, I’m okay.”

“You and me.” Jason smiles softly and he’s worried about you, too.

You rest your forehead against his shoulder. “I’m sorry, it’s just one of those days, ya know? Where it just…”

“Feels worse again.” Jason finishes.

“Yeah.” You pick your head up.

He wants to help and Bruce doesn’t leave for a few more hours. So, his solution is training. It always helps you, too anyway. He just doesn’t want you to feel the heaviness of it and if he doesn’t have to carry the weight alone, neither do you. It’s like he told you, you can put it on him. He’ll carry it for you.

“I get it.” Jason stands up abruptly. “Wanna train about it?” Jason wiggles his brows, offering you his hand.

You roll your eyes but there’s a smile tugging on your lips. He always gets it. “Yeah, I almost won yesterday.” You put your hand in his, getting to your feet.

“Maybe I let you win one round, think of that?” Jason teases.

“You wouldn’t let me win anything.” You scrunch your nose. “You’re too competitive.” You beam at him as Jason lets out a laugh and swings his arm over your shoulders.

“Guess that’s true.” He says as the two of you make your way to train.

You know you’ll tell him your concerns later and tell him about Bruce because while it might not be fair to tell him, it’s also not fair for you to hide it. He trusts you and he’s doing better about telling you everything that bothers him. You owe him the same. But right now, it's just too heavy to deal with and you just want to sit with him and forget about everything for a while.

Jason is really good about helping you forget and letting you relax so it’s easier to tell him. It's one of the many reasons you adore him and wholeheartedly love him more than anything on this planet.

After a few rounds of sparring, you having lost because Jason really can’t let you win, you move to the targets. When Jason runs out on his end, he takes a break, sitting a few feet behind you and to the right, having a drink of Gatorade.

He watches you when you train. There’s something enthralling about it. You throw the knives at the target with so little effort, Jason can’t help but stare. He remembers how bad you were at combat all those months ago. He never told you, but you were not good. It was obvious you never wanted to throw a punch, like you never hit someone before and you hadn’t. Maybe a part of him thought you might be hopeless. Even when you fought Jerry, Jason is pretty sure you only got as far as you did because he was surprised and you had a hit of adrenaline hit your system from the anger. You never stood a chance otherwise. But now, you make Jason actually put up a fight in training.

He puts in effort to make sure you don’t pin him now. You never miss a target. You're even getting over your fear of heights with having to grapple from building to building and with being on so many rooftops. You're so good at all of this now and his entire chest warms because he knows a part of that is because of him. But the other part, wants to completely shatter.

On the one hand, you never wanted to be violent. You told him that, more than once. You never wanted to be this way and now you are. It’s not his fault. He didn’t make you that way. That was Jerry, that was the Joker. But he looks at what you've become and he feels guilty anyway because he doesn’t stop you from being violent. He encourages it. And he thinks of how he was before Robin.

It wasn’t that Jason was violent. That was never it. He could pick a fight just as good as the next person. But it was out of survival. It wasn’t because he liked the bloody and bruised knuckles. Or coming back with his body covered in shades of navy and maroon and the pain that went along with it. It was how he had to survive. Fight or die. Fight or let people take advantage of him.

He was small. He got lucky he grew taller as he got older but he was a small kid. It was either learn to fight and take what he could or get taken advantage of or die trying. It was learn to fight and hold his own or deal with whatever his dad would dish out or the new guy his mom brought home that didn’t really like kids. It was never that he wanted to be violent.

He was just angry with the world. Robin gives him the outlet. Robin lets him be violent in a way that’s productive. Robin lets him choose violence. Robin lets him pick fights that matter. Robin lets him let the anger and the violent side of him be a good thing instead of something that hinders him and something people find to be annoying and a nuisance. Robin has given him so fucking much including that outlet and he can’t lose it. And he just gets so fucking mad when he thinks about it. He’s mad about it being taken away and mad at Bruce and a little mad at you for getting to use his outlet as your own, even when he knows that’s not fair.

It’s the anger that always got the best of him. Not the violence.

“Where’s your head, Jay?” You ask, looking over your shoulder from the targets as Jason sits on the floor behind you.

Jason snaps away from his thoughts, looking over to you. “What?” He furrows his brows up at you.

“You’re quiet and you’re never quiet unless something is bothering you.”

It’s only been two weeks but you know him better than anyone. It’s been rough for him not having Robin. He wasn’t Robin, technically, in San Francisco. He wasn’t supposed to be anyway. He was supposed to be taking a break but that didn’t seem to bother him as much as it does now. You’re not entirely sure what the difference is this time but whatever it is, you’ve got this feeling that there’s something more going on. Something’s poking at his head.

Jason shakes his head. “Want to get back out there.” Jason scoffs.

You nod. “Yeah…” You suck in a breath, looking at your target full of knives before you move to sit in front of him. You match his position, stretching your legs out right beside his with your hands on the floor behind you to hold your weight. “You sure it doesn’t bug you I go out?” You ask.

Of course, it bothers him. That’s his thing. But, it’s yours, too. Maybe it wouldn’t sting as much if you weren’t going out with Bruce. But, there’s nothing he can do about it and it would be wrong for him to even try. So, he bites his tongue about it.

“It’s fine, it’s your thing, too.”

You shake your head. “Yeah, but if it bothers you, I can wait until you get Robin back or I can just go out on my own.” You offer.

The first night Jason was benched, Bruce asked if you’d still join I’m for patrol. Jason assured you it was fine. So, you went and you talked later about it. He swore up and down it would be fine. You like to go out on patrol. You like to help people and who is he to try and take that away from you? You’d never do that to him.

“You think Bruce will be okay with that? You going out on your own?” Jason quips.

You grin before you let out a laugh. “Well, probably not anymore.”

Jason furrows his brows, his eyes scanning over your face. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You bounce around how to tell him about your conversation with Bruce earlier without including the stuff about him. It’s hard because on the one hand, you respect Bruce but on the other, he can be a little insufferable. And Jason looks up to him for reasons you don’t really think you’ll entirely understand. It’s not your place to speak poorly of him to Jason. So, you tell him but you hope he doesn’t ask what sparked the conversation in the first place.

“We, uh, we had a moral disagreement today.” You chew the inside of your cheek as you raise your brows.

“Ah,” Jason nods his head. “That why you don’t wanna go out tonight?” The moral disagreement doesn’t surprise him. He knows how you feel about all of it but he is a little surprised you even brought up to Bruce.

“Amongst a few other things but yeah. I think he might think I’ll kill people now.” You roll your eyes.

Jason lets out a snort. “What the hell did you even say to make him think that?” Jason shakes his head. “Wait, let me guess.”

“I’m listening.” You gesture a hand for him to continue.

Jason clears his throat. “You should kill the Joker. He’s a piece of shit maniac clown who kills people for fun. He should be dead.” Jason grins at you. “Sound about right?”

“Shut the fuck up.” You groan through a laugh as you tilt your head back. “No.” You shake your head at him. “I said he was a homicidal, psychotic, sadist.” You state. “And that he should die, yes.” You mutter softly while Jason lets out a booming laugh.

He is certain you’ll never let it go which he doesn’t blame you for. He gets it. He doesn’t like his dad but a part of him still wanted to go after Two-Face. Dick went after Zucco. Parents are killed and their kids want to take revenge. But, he also knows you and he doesn’t think you’d ever actually try to kill anyone, but especially the Joker. You have more self-preservation than that.

“And he said something about we don’t cross that line or whatever?”

“Yep.” Your eyes widen as you nod your head. “Him and Dick think it’s ridiculous as if Dick didn’t feel that same way, ya know? But it’s the Joker. So, uh, I might have said his death is inevitable.” You scrunch your nose and maybe that was the wrong choice of words.

Jason eyes you carefully and there is something going on with you, too. It’s one thing to have the moral disagreement with Bruce but to actually say anyone’s death in inevitable seems a little off. Jason’s so wrapped in his own anger, he’s started to wonder if he’s missing anything with you.

“Okay seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Jason nudges your leg with his.

“Nothing. I don’t think I really meant it or anything but I kind of wonder if Bruce thinks I’m serious and thinks I’m like a ticking time bomb or something.” You roll your eyes.

“Did he take the shit from you? The suit or anything?” Jason questions and he is getting increasingly more curious what even started that whole conversation and got you mad enough to say anything to Bruce.

“No. Why?”

“Then he doesn’t think you’re gonna out and kill people.” Jason chuckles. “He’d take it away and send you to Leslie if he thought you were serious.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief.” You chuckle softly. “Still don’t wanna go out tonight though.” You shake your head.

Jason pulls his legs to his chest, resting his forearms over his knees. “What started the whole conversation anyway? Did something happen?”

You pause and you hate lying to him. It’s the one thing you really don’t do with him. But, telling him why Bruce even talked to you, that just doesn’t seem fair. You worry he might take Bruce’s concern the wrong way. Maybe it’ll send him spiraling even further. Maybe it’s best if you just keep that to yourself.

“Nothing.” You shake your head. “It’s nothing, really.” You assure him before you suck in a breath. “Seriously though, if you have a problem with me going out, you can tell me.”

The switch back the topic at hand does not go unnoticed and that’s also uncharacteristic of you lately. You tell him everything that bothers you and what leads to it bothering you.

“I said it’s fine.” Jason states. “If something’s going on with you, you’d tell me, right?” Jason questions.

You nod your head. “Of course. Nothing’s, uh, nothing’s going on. You need to stop worrying.” You offer him a cheeky grin and he knows you’re lying. “Look, Jay, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t stand a chance out there. I know it’s hard being benched and I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

“You said yourself, you like going out there.” Jason bites his tongue.

“Yeah, but if it weren’t for you, I’d never stand a chance. I know it’s hard for you to be benched and I go out. I don’t wanna make it harder for you.”

He knows you’re lying but he can’t figure out why you would lie to him about something like that. It doesn’t seem important or serious enough to need a lie. Maybe a part of him is even hurt you won’t tell him. But, he knows it’s not fair to push because you don’t push him when he’s adamant about not tellin you. He hopes you’ll tell him later when it’s not so fresh.

Jason scoots closer to you, resting a hand on your thigh. “I’m fine, alright? Go out kick and some ass, with or without Bruce.” Jason grins at you. “Stop worrying so much.”

“I’ll always worry, I love you.” You smile wildly at him.

“Yeah, I love you, too.” Jason chuckles softly. “I'm fine, I’ll be back out there in no time.”

“Good, miss you out there with me.”

“I got you, babe.” Jason presses a kiss to your lips. “Spar again, then dinner?”

“Yeah, okay.”

The next day, Jason and you head off the coffee shop to meet up with Molly. It’s colder than it has been. The air is crisp as you walk inside, hands in your jackets. It seems to fit the mood. Your hearts are heavy in your chests, matching your sleep-deprived eyes. Last night was bad.

And Molly is sat at your usual table with a smile.

You think this is good. Maybe hanging out with Molly, the three of you will be a good distraction for him. It’s been only been two weeks, but you know he’s already going stir-crazy. The more you think about it, you're surprised it took him three months in San Francisco to finally break the rules and go out.

“Hey.” You chime.

“Sorry, we’re late, Molly.” Jason takes his jacket off, throwing it over the back of his chair before he sits beside you.

“It’s cool, I ordered for you guys.” Molly states with ease, barely looking up from her laptop. When she does, she has a look at the two of you, Jason specifically. She glances to you before going back to Jason.

He looks more tired than usual lately. But today, he looks exhausted. The bags under his eyes are thick and his grin seems lazier than usual. And she knows you've been more tired lately, too. When you hang out, you nod off and completely space out mid-conversation. You look extra tired today as you lean your head on Jason’s shoulder.

“You look…tired. Are you sleeping?” Molly keeps her eyes on Jason.

You glance to Jason with a heavy heart, last night was rough. He woke up screaming at the top of his lungs. He got you in the face with his elbow. He sputtered apology after apology, nearly throwing himself into a guilt-ridden panic attack over it. It was fine, it was an accident. He was having a nightmare.

You eventually got him to calm down and fall back asleep but that only lasted about two hours before he woke up screaming again. This went on all night. It was bad. No, he’s not sleeping.

“Don’t worry so much.” Jason brushes it off with a smile.

It’s one thing for you to know but he doesn’t want Molly to know even if it’s written on his face that he isn’t sleeping. He still feels guilty and tired and annoyed and angry and frustrated. He swears taking Robin away has made the nightmare worse. Everything feels worse.

“We just had a late movie night.” You state.

“And what about you? You look tired, too.”

“I’m sleeping fine. Jason’s right, don’t worry so much.” You lift your head from Jason’s shoulder.

“What’re you working on?” Jason changes the subject as you lean forward, fully engaging with the topic change.

Molly let’s it rest. It seems weird but it’s the two to you. It’s always a little weird. Your sleep schedules are a mess anyway.

Molly turns the laptop around so Jason and you can see. The screen has a large picture, a missing person's flyer. The sidebar contains others with other missing kids.

“Diego from the shelter went missing.” Molly states, her voice annoyed “Rumor is, The Joker’s got a dude on the streets taking in strays. Diego’s poor and brown so you know the cops don’t give a shit.” Molly shakes her head with a scoff, taking the laptop back.

You feel your blood boiling. That’s the shit you want to do. You want to target those terrible people who are bringing in kids. Kids are innocent. The three of you at this very table were once innocent and you should have been able to stay that way. It was ripped from you and you never want another kid to deal with any of that. That dickhead, has got to fucking go. And who the hell works with the Joker anyway?

“Batman will take care of him.” Jason states, crossing his arms on the table as he leans forward slightly.

You snap your attention at him, narrowing your eyes. “Right.” You nod your head, getting a confused look from Jason.

“Batman protects rich people.” Molly closes the laptop, resting it on the seat beside her. “Be careful, Jason, living in that fake house got you slipping.” Molly crosses her arms. “Should’ve stayed in San Francisco.” There’s a slight bite to Molly’s words.

“Fuck Sam Fransciso.” Jason states. “That whole thing was a mistake. Gotham’s where I need to be.”

“You’ve been different since you’ve been back.” Molly leans forward, she glances to you who raise a brow in confusion

Jason leans back in his seat, brows knitting together. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. Like something happened over it here.” Molly looks to you.

“Nothing happened.” Jason brushes it off coolly. “I was bored, so I left.” You think that’s one way to put it.

“It was boring as shit there. It was nice, but it’s not Gotham.” You back Jason up. This whole thing would be easier if Molly knew the truth. You want to know how everyone can keep up with all the lies.

“Okay.” Molly lets out a breath, not believing either of you. Something definitely happened over there. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it—“

Jason leans forward, not wanting to deal with the integration. “Where’s this guy who’s picking up the street kids?” There’s a grin that tugs on his lips and you know he’s about to go track the guy down. And you for one, are completely on board.

Molly looks to you who now also looks extremely engaged. She has a bad feeling but she does know. “I heard he’s hanging near a shelter on Dunsmuir.”

“Show us.” Jason states.

He’s not Robin but he still has the same abilities without the suit. He is itching to be out there doing something and Molly has a point. Bruce does look out for the rich. Kids like Diego can get left behind. This is a chance for him to do something. To prove to himself he can do it, even without the Robin suit. He can deal with a lowlife picking up street kids. He could do it in his sleep.

“Yeah, take us.” You match the grin Jason has and Molly finds the whole thing a bit unsettling.

Molly lets out a scoff as she deadpans. “Right. Cause you’re cops now.”

“I’m serious.” Jason urges. “Let’s just go see if he’s there.” Jason's grin is wild and dangerous as he looks to you.

“Come on, let’s go.” You jump in. “It won’t be so bad or anything. Especially if he’s recruiting kids.”

You're worried about Jason but you’ll be together. He’s one lowlife working for the Joker. That’s easy. Jason can just threaten him, get a picture, call it good. Neither of you can sit by and let him do this. Plus, you think Jason might need the pick-me-up.

“And then what?” Molly can’t believe the two of you. You are both completely insane.

“Take some photos. Show them to the cops. It’s worth trying.” Jason states and he’s so convincing.

“It’s better than sitting here talking about it.” You offer. “It’ll be quick anyway.”

Molly glances between the two of you and she can’t help but find some part of this amusing, you share a similar grin. Ones that got her into trouble, ones she knows means you’re both up to no good. Ones she knows she’ll regret listening to. And she knows it’s such a bad idea. You aren’t cops. You have no business finding this guy. But, she knows Diego stands no chance if you don’t at least try.

“Fine.” Molly agrees reluctantly.

You and Jason share a triumphant grin between the two of you. Jason swears this won’t be like Deathstroke. He’ll be on better alert in case there is a team this time and he knows you will, too. You’re going to find a lowlife, not a supervillain. And besides, with Molly there, him and you won’t do anything too reckless to make sure she doesn’t get caught in the crossfire. This will be fine.

The three of you make the walk toward the shelter. Small flurries fall from the sky on your walk. You look around at the snow with a soft smile. You haven’t seen snow in a year and maybe a small part of you missed it. Maybe it feels like home in a weird way.

“How’s Sheila?” You ask, walking between the two of them, your right hand tangled with Jason’s.

“Yeah, no.” Molly scoffs. “She was the wrong one. Might even date boys again.” Molly states.

You let out a laugh. “Seriously that bad? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“You're going through some shit.” Molly shrugs. You and Jason have asked about her and Sheila but Molly is the observant friend. The two of you always seem like you have real shit going on. She didn’t want to bother either of you with her relationship problems when, for once, you and Jason seem happy in one. “Broke up yesterday, you didn’t miss much besides screaming and her throwing things.”

“That’s also a lovely breakup.” You give a large nod with the roll of your eyes. You never cared much for Sheila. Sheila was the jealous type.

“Yeah.” Molly scoffs. “It’s cool though.” Molly shrugs.

“Yeah, you deserve someone better anyway. Didn’t she lose her shit on you for being home like five minutes late?” Jason asks, glancing over to her.

“That should have been one of my red flags.” Molly lets out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, maybe.” You agree.

The three of you reach an alley where you see an older man sitting on the hood of his car with a girl standing in front of him who looks way too young to be around him. She has a bottle in a brown paper bag and he looks like he’s a little too friendly with her. You can’t help the way your hand squeezes Jason's as you feel the anger start to bubble in the pit of your stomach. Jason glances to you, squeezing back.

“Over there.” Molly states. “Gotta be him.”

Jason lets go of your hand and pulls out his phone, taking a picture and using the software on his phone to do a check on him. The software runs facial recognition through the system, pulling up his extensive rap sheet. You peek over at the screen, making out a few of the charges and this is the shit that pisses you off.

Why do they keep letting him out? He is very clearly a danger to the public and yet he gets to roam around free, hurting more kids. Now, he gets to work with the damn Joker of all people. He’s got to go.

“Got him?” Molly asks.

“Hold on.” Jason says as it finishes loading. “Name’s Pete Hawkins. Piece of shit’s been in and out of Blackgate. Hooked up with the Joker last year.” Jason explains.

“Another piece of shit they refuse to keep locked up because they don’t actually give a fuck about the general public.” You let out a bitter scoff, stuffing your hands in your pockets.

“How do you know that?” Molly asks, looking between the two of you.

“Told you. I’m still me.” Jason smiles cheekily at her.

“Right. That’s one of those things that sounds real cool, but doesn’t actually mean anything.”

“Means he’s got it covered and he’s good at it.” You smile softly with the shrug of your shoulders.

Jason nudges you with his shoulder. “Let’s go introduce ourselves.” Jason suggests and you knew this was gonna happen. “Just a conversation. That’s all, come on.” Jason takes a step forward as Molly looks to you for help.

“It’ll be fine,” You step forward with Jason. “We’re just gonna talk and that’ll be it. Don’t worry.” You offer a soft smile and you’ve been here before.

You're confident, similar to Jason, this won’t be Deathstroke. This isn’t Dr. Light. This is just some guy. This is your home. This is your city. It won’t be like last time. You swear it won’t be and it can’t be because you have Molly with you. You swear it but you feel the fear creep into your stomach anyway.

The three of you make your way down the alley until you reach this guy. The closer you get, you can hear some of the conversation. He gave her alcohol. And he compliments her smile and tells her he can introduce her to someone that can make her smile. You nearly gag. He doesn’t deserve to be here.

“It never works out like that.” Jason states as the three of you stand in front of them.

“Yeah, it’s all sweet talk until you’re in too deep then it’s anything but sweet.” You add in, your hands warm in your pockets.

There’s a silence that consumes all of you for a few seconds. The man eyes the three of you, not quite confused but annoyed. The girl though, she looks uneasy. She looked uneasy before you approached anyway. And this guy is just gonna let her feel that way. He was going to use it against her.

“Give us a second.” Pete states to the girl. “Keep the drink.” The girl nods her head and walks away, glancing back at all of you on her way down the alley. “We have a problem?” He asks.

“A little young for you isn’t she, hoss?” Jason questions.

Jason also can't stand people like this guy. He was a kid once. He remembers it all. No one was there to protect him and he can protect himself but what about the other kids? That's supposed to be the point of Batman and Robin. To protect those who can't protect themselves. He doesn't need the suit to threaten this guy and try to find out where, at least, Diego is.

“She’s old enough to make her own choices,” He states back.

“Yeah? And exactly how old is old enough then?” You quip back. “Cause, uh, she didn’t look old enough.”

“Do I know you?” He questions, the annoyance soaking his words.

“I’m fuck,” Jason starts. “She's off.” Jason gestures to you. “We hate clowns.”

“Clowns?” Pete asks but there’s a seriousness in his voice.

“You know the type.” You state.

Molly watches the two of you and she’s getting the idea you’ve done this before. That seems a little weird and somehow not even close to surprising. But, she can’t figure out why you would do this? In your free time. Do you and Jason just go around Gotham interrogating people?

“Maybe you ran across a kid?” Jason asks. “Diego.”

“Martinez.” Molly finishes.

Pete shifts just slightly and Jason takes that opportunity to close the distance between them, getting in his face. You watch the two of them carefully, waiting for any quick movements, waiting for the throbbing to start, so you move to stand in front of Molly. You knew it was never going to be just talking and that’s fine with you. That girl was lucky you showed up and he should know he can’t get away with what he’s doing and what he wants to do.

“You know him?” Jason asks.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” Pete says but there’s almost a mocking tone in his voice. Jason stares him down and it goes eerily silent for a few seconds. Pete doesn’t like the look and you're getting the feeling this is going to go south.“You haven’t done enough time to look at me like that.”

“You have no idea who I am.” Jason's voice is low and unwavering, despite the fear pushing at his chest and vibrating his blood like a relentless and agonizing earthquake.

Molly gets the idea this going to turn violent. He’s done time and she knows Jason can fight but maybe not him. So, she moves past you and walks forward, touching Jason’s arm to grab his attention.

“Jason, let’s get out of here.” Molly says as Jason looks at her and as soon he does, a gun cocks.

It’s fast, happening in just a second. The gun is cocked as Jason looks back to Pete who puts the gun right under his chin. He was just waiting for his opportunity. You swear under your breath because for some reason, you thought he’d be fine. He knows better.

“Where’s your swag, cowboy?” Pete asks as you quickly move to Molly, yanking her back and behind you.

Jason freezes, flashes of Deathstroke cross his eyes. The beatings, the pain in his leg is agonizing. It throbs and if he didn’t know better, he’d swear it were bleeding right here, right now. He falls again and again and again. Everything that happened flashes his eyes and he can’t breathe and he can’t move. Why can’t he move? He has no time to react before Pete smacks him across the face with the gun, sending Jason to the ground.

“Jason!” Molly screams, trying to push you to the side.

“You shut your mouth, bitch!” Pete threatens as he aims the gun at her, you keep her blocked, locking eyes with Pete with your mouth in a hard line.

Jason tries to get up but Pete kicks him in the face. Jason starts coughing up blood onto the ground. He’s weak. Why is he weak? He’s fought men three times the size with ease. But Pete kicks him and kicks him and kicks him over and over. In the stomach and the side, over and over again. Jason tries to back away but he’s on the ground and useless.

He was never like this. He was never afraid of everything. It never caused him harm before. If anything, fear managed to protect him. It has always kept him on high alert. It made sure he could be physically and emotionally safe from anyone that would hurt him. But, now, all it's doing is getting him beaten up. It's traumatizing reliving the same damn fear every single day. He's so damn tired of it. He's so sick of being weak. And scared.

Jason rolls on his side where Pete kicks him again and you've had enough. You tried to give Jason a little bit of time to get it together, hoping he'd be able to. But, you can't stand by and hope anymore. You push Molly to the side and move towards Pete.

“Hey, dickhead!” You get his attention, taking a solid swing to his face and then another. “You wanna fucking fight, let’s fucking go.” You have a wild look in your eyes as he points the gun at you, Molly rushing to check on Jason. “Aw, cute! You think I’m scared?” You taunt him, the throbbing in your head intensifies and you move out of the way just as he fires the gun. “Missed me, fuckface.”

You swore you'd never be unprepared again and you pull out a knife from your belt hidden under your coat. In a swift motion, you nail him in the leg. He yells out and shoots again, you already out of the way by the time he fires.

Jason hears the gunshots through the ringing of his ears and he'll never forgive himself if you get shot because he couldn't even get a single punch in. You shouldn't be taking him on, by yourself, just because he couldn't. Because he started it. You're here again. Jason's idea. You in the middle of it.

“What the fuck.” Pete grits his teeth as he pulls the knife out.

“I got more if that’s not enough for you.” You pull out another knife, tossing it between your fingers. “Bet I can nail your jugular in a single shot. Wanna find out?” You question. “If your gun is fully loaded, you have fourteen more shots. So, we can go fourteen more rounds if you want and then I can hit your jugular. I do love target practice.”

Pete grits his teeth, holding the wound and he’s missed two shots already. Whatever you have going on, isn't worth his time right now.

“I’ll see you around.” Pete threatens you before he walks off.

You let out a breath of relief as you rush over to the two on the ground. Jason is still coughing and trying to gain his breath. Molly’s hand is on his shoulder. You can see the bloody gash near his temple and he should have had this. Maybe it’s worse than even you thought it was.

You and Molly help him to his feet, Jason brushing the both of you off. He struggles to gain his footing, the pain in his leg is as bad as it was when Deathstroke cut out the tracker. His entire body is aching with every breath. He’s embarrassed and pissed.

“Look, you’re hurt, we need to get you to a hospital—“ Molly starts once Jason is on his feet.

“I’m fine. I’m fine.” Jason says, keeping his voice level. It’s not her fault.

“Jay.” You state.

He can't. He can't do it and he doesn't want to.

“Just tell me what I can to help—“ Molly starts.

“Get the fuck away from me, okay?” Jason screams, gesturing his arm in the other direction.

He doesn’t want help. He’s tired of people offering to help. He doesn’t fucking want it. It doesn’t fucking help. Nothing is helping. It’s been months and he’s still paralyzed with fear. Every single time, it seems to be getting better, it just gets worse. He relives it over and over and over. It’s drowning him even when he knows how to swim.

Molly stands for a second, her heart aching being yelled at. Jason doesn’t yell at her. Jason never yells at her. Tears brim in her eyes. She’s just worried about him. He just had a gun pulled at him and got the shit beat out of him. It was terrifying.

You let out a breath and you can tell Molly’s never seen him like this. Of course, she hasn't because she doesn't know. She doesn't know about Robin or Deathstroke. It's one of those times you wish desperately that she did because she'd understand. But, she doesn't and she's going to be the one left confused and hurt.

“It’s okay.” You turn to Molly walking her towards the alley. “It’s fine, okay? I got him.” You nod your head with a weak smile

Molly stares at you in disbelief. You can’t be serious because you were just shot at. How is this fucking fine? Neither of you are fine and Molly is sick of you both trying to fool yourselves and her.

“What the hell was that? With you? He almost shot you!” Molly panics, looking you over just to make sure he missed.

“I’ve been shot at before, it’s fine. Just something I picked up.” Your voice shakes and that’s new.

Your hands are vibrating at your sides and you're realizing, it’s getting a little hard to breathe. But it’s the realization that you have been shot at before. You were left for dead, twice. It all comes back in a wave but you have to push through it. Molly can’t know and Jason needs you. You need to check on him. You can’t panic over it. It happened months ago. And you weren’t the one tortured and kidnapped by CADMUS. It’s not your trauma to process.

“You were what!?”

“Molly, it’s fine. He’ll be fine. Just go home.” You keep your voice calm and pleading.

“He’s hurt.” Molly urges with tears in her eyes.

“He’s fine, okay? I’ll look him over—“

“You’re not a doctor.” Molly grits her teeth.

“I know. I’ll get him to go, okay? Just, head home and I’ll call you. It’s fine. I promise.” You pull her in for a hug before walking back off to Jason who’s pacing and fuming.

Molly pauses for a second before she decides to listen. Jason and you aren’t gonna listen to her anyway.

“You, too!” Jason screams at you.

He doesn’t want your help either. He doesn’t deserve it. The cruel voices are back, louder than ever and echoing through the deepest parts of his chest. They scream and cackle, telling him over and over that he's not good enough. Anyone could have beaten that guy up. Anyone could have taken him and anyone would know he had a gun. Of course, he had a gun. But, Jason's terrified of everything. He's too scared. He's weak and useless and hopeless. 

“No!” You yell back. “I’m not fucking leaving you here like this.”

“Get away!” Jason’s voice cracks as he stands in front of you.

“No! Molly’s right. You’re hurt. We need to get back.” You urge him as you reach for his shoulders.

He can't go back. Bruce is going to be home and he's going to have questions. What if this gets him benched permanently? What if this proves Bruce right? What if Bruce gives up on him entirely?

“No fuck that shit!” Jason brushes you off and he’s so fucking sick of this shit. “Leave me alone!”

“Jason.” You grit your teeth. “What the hell is going on?” You move forward anyway and cup his face, minding the blood.

“Just leave me alone, please.” Jason pleads with you as a lump grows in his throat. He’s so fucking sick of this. He’s so exhausted from feeling this way.

“You know I won’t, Jay.” Your eyes soften as your heart breaks for him.

Jason takes your hands in his. “You fucking should. I’m fucked up. You deserve better anyway. Go the fuck home.”

He’s pushing. Your heart breaks and you're gonna keep fighting. You have a lot of regrets and one of those is not fighting for him sooner. You always should have. You're not gonna repeat that regret. So, you're gonna fight and if he wants to push, he’ll have to try a lot harder than that.

“Jason, don’t do this.” You beg him. “Come home with me, please.”

He shakes his head and he can’t. He’ll pay for it later. He knows he will. He’s gonna push as hard as he possibly can to get you away from him. He doesn’t want you near him. He’s fucked up. He’s useless and weak and a mess. You don’t deserve him. He doesn’t want you coming to his rescue. It’s not your job and it never should be. Jason has always been able to take care of himself alone. This is no different. He doesn’t want your damn help. He doesn’t want it. It’s embarrassing. Humiliating. He loves you but he's in so much pain right now he has to do the one thing he’s always been best at. Pushing.

He’ll regret it.

“No.” Jason huffs. “I’m not going fucking home!” He yells. “Get the fuck out of here. I don’t need you bailing me out! I could have fucking handled it!”

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, your voice cracking. You tug your sleeves down, Jason catching the action.

You haven’t done that in a month around him. He crumbles with the act. He knows pushing hurts you and that’s not fair just because he’s hurt. You don’t deserve it and maybe he’s right. Maybe you really do deserve better. He can’t take it back. He didn’t mean to hurt you. Not on purpose. He can’t take it back and he can’t deal with it all. He can’t deal with more guilt and pain and disappointment.

“Just leave me the fuck alone, alright?” Jason scoffs and he walks past you, knowing you’ll never leave. You don’t have it in you to walk away. So, he does.

He knows you’ll get him to break if he stays. You've always been good at getting him to calm down and be reasonable. But that’s not what he wants to be right now. He almost wants to be angry about it. He just wants to be alone, away from every person he’s disappointed and that includes you.

You watch him walk away as tears brim your eyes. You were making progress and now you’re back here. What is so different than before? You've had to bail him out before this and it wasn’t this bad. He didn’t push like this. And you realize the difference is Robin, the difference is always Robin.

At least when he was Robin, he had that to fall back on. He could chalk up his freezing to still being able to be Robin later. He’d have a second shot at it. He’d get a third shot. He was still Robin but Bruce benched him and now he’s getting his ass kicked by some nobody trafficking kids to the Joker. He has nothing left to fall back on. Every horrible thought he ever had about himself has become true today. He is useless. He is weak. He is not good enough. And you hate that he even feels that way.

But you can’t follow him because then you’ll just fight and that’s not something you want to do. He doesn’t need to feel worse over an argument with you. So, you let him walk away and you make your way down the alley.

You head back to the cafe where your bike is parked and you decide to hang out for half an hour, hoping Jason will come back. You can go back to the manor together and make sure he’s actually okay but as the time ticks by, there’s no sign of him and he’s not answering his phone. Jason is really good at pushing.

Jason looks at his phone and it's cold. It's snowing. You should just go home but he knows you're definitely still waiting for him. But, he's not even close to being ready to talk or cool down.

Jason: go home be back later I’m fine

Jason looks at his phone, watching the bubble show up. He’s still so angry with himself for all of it. He can’t even look you in the eyes right now. He doesn’t want to do anything. He just wants to be alone. But you worry. It’s been half an hour and at the very least, he can text you that he’s fine.

Y/n 😍: I don’t want to go back without you

Jason’s heart sinks as he reads the text. He hesitates over the keyboard. He almost types out “too bad” but he can't bring himself to type it out. It'll be even worse if it does.

Jason: you have to get ready for patrol tonight anyway stop worrying

Jason shuts his phone off as soon as the text sends. He simply can't. He knows he just fucked up your whole relationship. It’s been two weeks and he just fucked it all up. He’s not good enough anyway. It doesn’t matter. And yet it breaks his heart in two.

All he wants is to be Robin and be good enough again. He doesn't want to be so tired anymore. He's tired of it all. The nightmares and shaking hands. He's tired of the leg pain and the headaches and the nausea and racing heartbeat that makes him feel like he's going to pass out. He's tired of disappointing everyone and letting them down and not being good enough. He's tired of being weak. 

You let out a sigh, texting him back saying you don't have to go but the read receipt doesn't come through. You want to give him some more time to come around before you head back. So, you get on your bike and decide to head to Excellent Gotham. You always like it there anyway and it’ll be warm. And Jason knows that. If he wants to come around, he'll know where to find you.

You open the take-out container of your food once you're seated at your favorite table against the back wall. You try to eat while you scroll on your phone. Gar posted a new picture of him with Conner and Krypto at a park. Dick and Kory are seated at a picnic table behind them. A smile tugs at your lips as you double-tap the picture and pull up the comments.

You: @/dickgrayson @/koriandr look real cozy in the background 👀

You send the comment, mostly to harass Dick. You can’t do it in person, but you can do it through social media. It is something that can cheer you up usually. And you smile softly, remembering when Kory told you and Gar how Donna was the one that showed her how to work Instagram and helped her set up her account. You miss all of them.

@/dickgrayson: we were talking?

You: wE wErE tAlKiNg 🥴

@/garlogan: they’re always “talking”

You:“talking” is the first stage @/dickgrayson “don’t do anything…graphic”

@/garlogan: 😂🤮

@/dickgrayson: NOT FUNNY

@/garlogan: yes it is

You: you said it first 😂 sorry @/koriandr ily 💕

You laugh softly to yourself. You'll never miss an opportunity to bug him. You scroll through a few more photos until your attention is pulled from your phone when someone sits down in front of you.

“Hey.” Tim chimes. “You here alone?”

“Uh…yeah.” You shake your head. “Why?”

Every time you come here and Tim is here, you have a conversation about anything, really. This isn’t too weird of an exchange but you find it odd anyway for him to ask.

“You never come here alone anymore. Jason and Molly are always with you.” Tim gestures with his hand. “Everything okay?”

Tim is observant. He notices and remembers everything about everything and everybody. Before you left, you’d come in alone but since you started showing up again, you're always with Molly or Jason. Tim hasn’t seen you alone at all since. He notices you tugging your sleeves down when you order and the fact you always sit with your back up against a wall, looking out over the entire restaurant, something he doesn’t ever remember you doing. You’ve had enough conversations over the years that he considers you friends, friends enough to ask anyway.

“All good.” You shrug your shoulders, brushing it off.

Tim sighs. “My dad said you seemed down.” It’s not a lie. Mr. Drake did say that but Tim noticed anyway.

You laugh softly, nodding your head. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

“You sure? You can tell me if you want. I know we don’t know each other that well, but might help. Then I don’t have to run a delivery.” Tim chuckles.

He’s always so warm. You don’t think you've ever seen Tim seem down, annoyed but not down. He’s always excited to talk about whatever new thing has been picking at his mind. He was one of the people that told you he suspected there was a new Robin. Batman and the crazy maniacs of Gotham were a topic of discussion on occasion. And boy could he ramble about it. But, you always felt like you could trust him.

He doesn’t really know Jason. He kind of knows Molly but it was you and Tim that had the most conversation. He doesn’t know everything. He doesn’t know what happened to you or where you were and what happened. He doesn’t know any of it. And you find that a bit comforting. You trust him enough to at least talk a little bit because having to not tell anyone anything because everyone you know knows Jason is really difficult sometimes.

“Just, uh, some shit is going on and I, uh, can’t tell anyone about most of it.” You shake your head. “Me and Jason got into a fight and uh, I don’t know. He pushes sometimes. It’s fine, ya know? I get it but it, uh, it sucks anyway.” You chew the inside of your cheek.

Tim furrows his brows. “So, he gets mad and pushes you away? That’s not fair to you.” He lazily points a finger at you.

“Yeah, but he has shit going on.” You defend.

“That’s not an excuse.” Tim scoffs. “He seems cool. I don’t know him. I’m just saying, no one deserves to be pushed just because someone’s going through shit.”

“Well, he’s not an asshole to me. And I do the same shit so, ya know?”

“Well, I still think he shouldn’t do it." Tim states casually. "Why’s he do it anyway?“ Tim asks and you raise a brow at him. "I'm just saying, you're together so why's he still pushing you away?"

“I’m so serious, if you ever bring this up, I’ll kill you.” You threaten softly and Tim nods, gesturing for you to contiue. “Everyone gives up on him and I just…don’t? I’m like the only person who hasn’t and I’m not going to. I don’t even know why people do. He’s an ass sometimes and he’s all bark and bite. But, I don’t get it anyway, right? Because when you give a fuck about someone you don’t just give up cause shit gets hard. Or they fuck up. But it’s like he’s so damn used to it that when I simply don’t give up, he freaks out a little more when shit, like today, happens.” You state, keeping it a bit vague on the actual events.

Tim nods his head and he agrees. He believes in second chances. He doesn’t think people should just give up on people. He’s fucked up several times and his parents don’t give up on him. They were not happy about him dropping out but they’re not giving up on him. He doesn’t know what happened and he highly doubts you're gonna be less vague if he asks. But, he also knows some things you definitely don’t know he knows.

Tim knows. He knows Jason is Robin. Dick was Robin. Bruce is Batman. He knows you're Bluejay, a vigilante name the Gothamites have given you all because of your blue suit and you patrol with Batman. You do not talk about the irony in it. At least it's a little better than Acid Fingers. But, Tim is very observant. With a photographic memory.

Dick is one of two people in the world who can perform a specific flip and Robin 1.0 and Nightwing can also perform that trick which means Bruce Wayne is Batman. Jason was adopted by Bruce after Robin 1.0 left which means Jason has to be Robin 2.0, on top of the fact Tim remembers seeing videos and him and Robin 2.0 walk the same way. They share the same stride and confidence. And that’s how he figured out you're Bluejay.

The way you walk, how you hold yourself. You're living with Bruce Wayne, dating Jason Todd. It’s all pretty obvious to him in all fairness. So, he is kind of guessing whatever is going on has something to do with the vigilante life and that’s not something he can so much help with. But, he can try.

“Do you want my advice?” Tim asks.

“Sure?” You question.

“You said he pushes so, have you tried…letting him?”

“The point is that I don’t? So, I’m not like everyone else and I don't give up on people very much.”

“Yeah, but, you not letting him doesn’t work with whatever is going on, right?”

“I guess?”

“So, let him. And he’ll come back, right? Be there when he comes back. You said, it’s what he does. So, maybe you,” Tim gestures towards you as he leans back in his seat. “Being there all the time is suffocating him.” Tim states casually. “You could give him the space and when he comes around, be there like you normally would. Maybe he just needs the space, right?”

“I--” You pause and that’s kind of a good point you haven’t thought of. “I…yeah, actually that kind of makes sense. I just…worry about him. If you knew, you’d know why, ya know?”

“So, tell him you’ll give him space or whatever but he has to check in and tell you he’s fine so you’re not worried.”

You groan, putting your head on the table for a second before picking it back up again. “That’s actually a good idea. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“It’s easier from the outside sometimes.” Tim chuckles awkwardly.

“Thanks, Tim. I will try that.” You nod softly.

“You're welcome.” Tim smiles warmly. "So, you decided to just come here because you had a fight and wait for him to come around?"

“Oh, you really don’t want to work. Don’t you have like schoolwork to do or something?” You quip with a grin tugging at your lips.

“I dropped out.” Tim shifts in his seat slightly.

“Why? Aren’t you like a genius?”

Tim shrugs casually. “I mean not...”

“He does our books.” Mr. Drake calls from the counter making you laugh.

“Genius.” You state with a nod.

“Kind of.” Tim rolls his shoulders.

“I just, uh, I always liked it here. Your family is always here, and always felt real warm. And, uh, ya know? Been a while since I felt that so. Like, whole family dynamic thing.” You nod your head.

“Oh, well, in that case, you can run my deliveries. Really feel the warmth of a family then.” Tim nods twice with a toothy grin, glancing to his dad.

“No, I’m good.” You laugh. “That’s all you, Timmy.” You scrunch your nose. “Thanks, though, seriously.”

“Hey, we’re friends, right?” Tim shrugs casually.

“Yeah, I guess.” You shake your head. “Coming in here enough over the years, I guess so.” You smile softly. “Seriously, thank you. And also, I’m serious, don’t tell anyone. We don’t normally like when people know our shit.”

“I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.” Tim chuckles.

“Well, I’m gonna head back to the manor. Give him space like you said. I’ll be back probably tomorrow.” You laugh as you get up.

“Oh, well, I’ll be here.” Tim states with wide eyes. “They won’t let me leave.” He whispers.

“So, go to school.” You mock him as Tim groans.

“Yeah, alright, be safe.” Tim chuckles.

“Yeah, too. All those delivers and such.” You offer him a thumbs-up before you head out of the restaurant.

The night goes by and you don’t go on patrol. You want to be here when Jason gets home and being out with Bruce just seems like it’ll make you more annoyed tonight. It’s his fault today happened anyway. So, you stay home and listen to Tim, giving Jason some space for the night.

Jason texts you here and there saying he’s still fine because he’s not throwing in the towel. The later the night gets, the more texts come through from him. He’s calmer as the night goes on and his anger is fading away. He apologizes a few more times and he wonders how he’s ever going to come back from what he said to you and Molly. Neither of you deserve it. You were just worried about him.

At some point, Jason stopped receiving texts from you and figured that was his cue to head back home. It’s two in the morning and he has to guess you fell asleep. He thinks it’s safe to go home and get to bed. He won’t have to talk about it when he gets home. He can just try to get at least some sleep.

When he gets home, Bruce is still out on patrol. The manor is completely quiet and he goes right to your room, just to check on you before he heads to his own bed. But, when he looks into your room, the bed is still made and you aren’t there. His heart plummets because he thinks he really blew it. He’s so sure you left. Maybe you're staying with Molly. Maybe you're just waiting for him to calm down before you break it off entirely. You're done and it’s all his fault.

Maybe you were only texting him back so you wouldn’t feel guilty if he did something stupid. He’s not sure, but he really thinks he messed things up with you this time.

Jason feels tears brim his eyes as he shuts the door. His head hangs as the lump grows further into his throat as he walks to his room. He did what he always does, push until someone gives up. He really, in the pit of his stomach, didn’t think you ever would. And he doesn’t even blame you. He just feels guilty and hurt for everything in the first place. He just keeps fucking it all up.

When he reaches the door of his room, his arm is weak as it creaks open but his attention snaps to the TV that’s on. There isn’t anything playing, it’s just the screensaver but it’s on and there’s an automatic shut off which means he didn’t leave it on. He looks in the opposite direction towards his bed where you're sleeping.

Jason sucks in a breath of relief at the sight of you. You didn’t give up. You didn’t leave. You waited for him in his room because you knew he would be avoiding talking and probably you when he got back if you were awake. And his heart swells. He doesn’t deserve you. But, he walks closer to the bed anyway and strips to his boxers before crawling into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you. He presses a kiss to your shoulder.

You hum from in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. “Jay?” Your voice is groggy as you tiredly look over your shoulder.

“Yeah.” Jason whispers softly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“S’okay.” You smile softly, rolling around his arms to face him, your eyes barely open as you look up at him. The bruise from the day is hidden against the pillow and the low light of the bedroom. “Glad you’re home.”

“I’m so fucking sorry.” Jason states and you barely make out the guilt across his face.

“It’s okay, we’ll talk in the morning.” You snuggle against his chest. Truthfully, you're just glad he's home and he's safe. One bad day doesn't destroy everything you've built. “Not mad, just tired. Get some sleep, Jay. It’s just you and me.” You press a kiss to his chest, feeling Jason relax against you.

“I love you.” Jason mutters against the top of your head.

“I love you, too.” You smile softly against him.

Jason squeezes you softly against him and he doesn’t know why he’s still lucky to have you. His life is shit besides you and you pick him anyway. You should leave him and he knows you should. He was wrong for speaking to you that way and for pushing so damn hard. But you don’t. You're here anyway for reasons he’ll never understand. But he is immensely thankful you're still here. With him.

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