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harrysgloves · 4 years ago

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Three’s Company (part 2)

Harry Styles x Reader x Florence Pugh

>>>PART ONE<<<

Story Summary: You deal with your breakup.

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: Language // Angst // Pretty sure I made the reader an alcoholic // oh and you know smut!! YEAH bet you didn’t think you were getting makeup sex but oh you are. (threesome so proceed with caution, thanks)

Authors Note: I got carried away... but don’t we all when it comes to them? Anyways, feedback is always wanted and deeply loved. Hope you you guys like it!! xx

>>>

"Is this color too moody?" You asked your neighbors cat that was lounging in your living room.

The midnight black ball of fur lazily blinked open his eyes long enough to croak out a "meow" before going back to sleep. Your head nodded in agreement as your 5th beer bottle of the day pressed against your lips.

"No, you're right. It's allowed to be moody." You agreed with the very large, very old, cat who always wandered over to your apartment. His owner, Ms. Thompson, gladly let you babysit him for a few days after she came to your door to find him the first night. Your blood shot, tear filled eyes when you answered the door, fully gave away the fact you'd been crying for the last few hours.

A bowl of Tupperware with hot chicken noodle soup laid on your doorstep the next morning along with the first gorgeous bouquet of flowers.

It had been four days since your break up with Harry and Florence. Four days of sleepless nights, alcohol filled days, and meaningless activities to keep your mind off how you were feeling.

Four vases of flowers that you couldn't bring yourself to throw away sat on your cluttered counter. The delicate petals were starting to turn brown around the edges from your lack of care. The notes on each one seemed to glare at you everytime you walked to your fridge to grab another drink.

Each one a variation of, "I'm so sorry. -H"

"When we broke up it was for totally different reasons. I wanted to raise the kids Jewish; you wanted to sleep with men." Debra Messings' voice and the horrible laugh track of 'Will and Grace' filled your lonely apartment. Your comfort show played on repeat. The same jokes, the same voices, the same fucking void in your heart.

It'd be four days and you felt like you were a second away from losing mind.

And sure, maybe, you could have called them. You could have said you overreacted and that you messed up so badly. Instant regret hit you as soon as you had walked out his door.

You'd get over it, get over them but it didn't seem to be as easy as you originally thought.

Everything reminded you of them.

"Love this one." Harry said the last time he'd spend the night with you. Your favorite record played softly in the background when he placed the needle down on it.

"Oh, this is one of my favorite episodes!" Flor cheered as she ran out of your kitchen to the living room at the sound of a 'Friends' episode starting.

"Got yeh this when I was out today." Harry handed you a dumb pen holder. A small Julius Caesar that had pens jetting out of his back.

"Take this before you freeze." Florence mumbled as she moved your blanket slightly off Harry and towards you while you all cuddled in your bed.

Everything that reminded you of them had been boxed off, separated, put away somewhere else until you could look at it again. You were left in an almost barren house that no longer felt like a home, with a cat, that wasn't even yours, sleeping on your coffee table that was littered with empty beer bottles. All while you drunkenly painted your walls at 2 in the afternoon.

How did shit get this bad?

The sound of a knock at your door called you out of your mind. An instant sinking feeling started in your chest as you walked across the floor. The wave of alcohol that ran through your system calmed some of the nerves but not all of them.

They wouldn't show up here, right?

You could feel the sweat starting on your hand as it rested on the doorknob. Another knock came from the other side of the door made you jump in your skin.

"You haven't answered your phone in four days! Open up!" One of your brothers yelled from the hallway as his fist pounded on your door. You rolled your eyes as you stood there debating if you could avoid him. Your plan to stay as quiet as possible quickly went to shit.

"Y/N, do not make me call dad." Your other brother, the one who's slightly fucking scary, voice boomed through your door like it wasn't even there.

You threw your door open to the absolute shit show that was your family. All four dumbass brothers stood outside of your apartment door. All four let out a simultaneous sigh of relief before walking into your very messy apartment.

"Jesus." Jason, the youngest, breathed out when the smell of alcohol hit him right in the face. His nose scrunched as his worried eyes flashed over the room.

"Did you drink an entire liquor store?" Tommy, the one you were closest to, asked as he scanned the damage done to your living room and what the hell you'd been doing to your liver the last four days.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you sat down on the floor, the couch was deemed unusable by you until further notice. Way, way, too many memories on that dumb thing.

Raphael's lips pursed as he studied the new living room color. He didn't even bother to hide the fact he was judging your meltdown as he turned to you.

You two were the closest in age. You were only 6 months older, and were both adopted at the same time. It definitely didn't make getting along as children necessarily easy. The both of you butted heads so much the other 3 acted more like referees than siblings. Which is why the room seemed to shift dramatically as he turned to you.

"So, you stonewall your way out of a relationship and then ignore everyone who checks on you?"

"Here we fucking go." Jack, the middle child and probably the most sensible brother groaned as he sat down cross-legged on the floor. His head rested in his hand as he stroked Marshmallow's black fur.

"Hey! We said we weren't going to bring you if you started a fight." Tommy snapped right before Jason interrupted.

"He has a point, Tomás."

"Like you haven't had your heartbroken."

"She's the one in the wrong!"

"No she isn't!"

"You can't defend her forever. She has to own up to her shit."

You groaned, your head laid back as you listened to them argue about you, right in front of you.

There wasn't enough alcohol in the world to deal with this.

"Get out." You said as you stood from your place on the floor, all eyes darted to you as you demanded for your own space.

"Wait, what?" Tommy asked as the rest of them looked at you like you had magically grown three heads.

"I said, get out. I'm not listening to this. You guys want to fight, go to dad's." You opened your front door, held it wide open for all of them to filter out. Each one gave a sad or sympathetic smile as they left.

"Y/N, I think you should really give them anoth-" Jack tried to reason with you before you shut the front door, hard. The slam echoed through your now quiet apartment as you stood there yet again, alone.

>>>

Your hooded eyes stared at the same spot on your ceiling. Your back rested on the cold hardwood floor of your wrecked living room. Your head swam with a fuzziness that only happens when you spend too many days on a bender.

You were fucked and your heart, your soul, hurt in a way you didn't think was possible.

You could feel the prick of tears starting again in your eyes as your mind ran over everything. The good times, the bad, the moment you wished you could take back.

Why did you leave that damn house? You could have at least let him explain.

You sighed as you sat up. The uncomfortable feeling of the room spinning only got worse as you shifted forward to grab the drink you'd poured earlier. The glass pressed against your dried out lips as the same laugh reel ran in the background.

Was this your life now? You wondered as you sat on that cold floor of your apartment. You used to be okay with nights like these. You used to be fine being alone.

Now, the silence felt like a stab to the gut.

Your phone that laid on the table vibrated non-stop. The worried texts of people who loved you flooded your phone, you were worried about you too but you couldn't admit it.

Why did this hurt so bad?

Was it because you'd never experienced a loss like this before?

Or was it because deep down, shut away in the corner of your mind you dared to never go to, you knew exactly how you felt about them? And it scared the shit out of you.

You gulped down the rest of your drink. Not wanting to begin the vicious cycle of why you were so quick to give up on them. Why you were so determined to leave before any explanation could be given.

Fucking hell, you needed therapy.

Your shaky legs walked over to the TV, turning off the reruns. Your glass placed on the edge of your coffee table as you made your way to your bathroom. A hot shower would always fix everything.

The stream of warm water pounded against your back as you sat in your bathtub. Your mind fluttered around the idea of taking a job that required you to permanently leave the country for a while. Maybe you could fall in love with a nice coast side in Italy or a small Cafe in France.

You didn't notice the sound of your front door opening or the footsteps in your apartment. Your eyes were already so heavy. The steam of the shower only made the low lullaby of sleeper louder in your mind.

Sleep and everything will be better.

>>>

You woke up the next morning in your bed. The bright sun burned your eyes as you blinked away the foggy feeling of sleep that still lingered around you. Your brain felt like a pile of mush as you reached for the bottle of water you kept on your side table.

How did you even get to bed?

The last few days had blurred together into a muddy picture. Everything jumbled together; drinks, painting, TV, organizing your kitchen, looking at apartments in foreign countries online.

"Morning!" Your brother chirped happily as he walked into your room.

You could have literally jumped out of your skin. You screamed, loudly, almost falling out of the bed.

"What the fuck!"

"I came back last night and you were asleep in the shower!" He said like you were the dumb one. "A thank you would be nice."

"Why are you in my apartment?" You asked, but only received the blankest of stares back. You knew why he was here. "I don't want to hear it."

"Too bad. Obviously, you need to hear it 'cause your apartment smells like a bar and you haven't talked to anyone in almost a week." He shrugged as he sat on the edge of your bed. The black ball of fur you'd eventually have to give back to your neighbor wasn't far behind him. Small black paws circled around you before he found a place to sleep comfortably.

"This sucks." You mumbled after a bit of silence. You could tell Jack didn't want to push you. Usually, this was a thing Tommy would handle but for some reason, the tribe had sacrificed Jack to be the emotional voice of reason this time.

"You know," he said as his hand ran through Marshmallow's fur. His teeth bit the inside of his lip as he debated what to say for a second before continuing. "you could just admit you were in the wrong and go apologize. I mean, you clearly fucking regret it."

"I don't." You answered so quickly even Marshmallow didn't believe you. His green eyes stared in lazy disbelief. "I mean I do but… I don't know, Jack. It's weird 'cause I'm so sad but… what if this never gets better? What if it's always like this? Like, we're always struggling to be a normal couple?"

"You're not a normal couple so why would you try to act like one?"

Your eyes shot to his at the words that poured out of his mouth so carefully. You'd never thought of it that way before. Your brows furrowed as you stared back at the bed.

Was there a chance for you to make this work with them?

"Look, Y/N, relationships are fucking hard no matter what but you can't just… walk out on people before they get a chance to hurt you."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's kind of your thing, you know?" He smiled softly to you. Not condescending or in a know it all way, in the way only a sibling could without getting smacked. "Not that it doesn't make sense but if they made you happy, maybe you should try to hear their side of it."

"When did you become the smart brother?" You teased with that wide smile across your face.

"Right after I came out of the closet."

"Shut up." You said through a laugh. The first one you'd had in days. That weight that laid on your chest seemed to have lifted a small amount.

Maybe, just maybe, you could talk this through with them.

>>>

You stood on the same doorstep you angrily stormed across not even a week ago. The pink door that you used to love, suddenly felt like a door to the electric chair.

Maybe you couldn't do this.

You sighed, your eyes darting back to the old Camero you loved just a little too much. Arms crossed over your chest to keep you warm as you stood in your place. You knew you couldn't go back to your apartment this quickly without getting asked questions.

Raphael, Jack, Tomás, and Jason were all waiting for your post-breakup meltdown if this didn't go well. Each one said they'd stay with you on rotation shifts until you felt better if you needed it.

Which was sweet, but you kind of wanted to rot in silence and alcohol if this went as badly as you thought it was going to.

Your tongue grew thick as your stomach churned. Your eyes closed as you sighed heavily, your ass plopped down on his front steps, head rested in your hands.

You didn't know where to even start when it came to talking to them. Your feelings were hurt but you shouldn't have walked out without giving them a chance to explain. You didn't want to feel like the odd man out but didn't want to broadcast your relationship.

The whole thing was messy and complicated. You wished so hard that it'd be easy. That talking about what you felt would be easy.

But you knew it wasn't, it never was, at least not for you. You shoved all your emotions down and kept chugging along your whole life. You pretended everything was fine, even when it wasn't. Which was exactly what ended you up here in the first place.

If you would have told them sooner they would have ended the PR shit.

"Hi." The thick accent from behind you startled your thoughts for a second but you didn't turn around. Your fingers messed with the edge of the rip in your jeans as your eyes focused on the crack in his sidewalk.

"Hi." You said quietly after what felt like a full minute of silence. You heard him let out a small sigh, his feet shuffled forward until he sat down quietly beside you.

You tried to not look at him, knowing if you did you'd burst out into tears. So you stayed focused on the ground, the dead leaves that floated along the road, the grass that was getting crunchy from the cold weather.

"Y/N, 'M-" he started but you waved your hand to get him to stop. Your head rested against his shoulder that tensed up from your touch.

You didn't want to talk for a second, just a second. You breathed in the familiar smell of him, the cologne he always wore was faint on his skin. The sleep shirt he wore was your favorite, you realized. The blue sweatshirt always made his eyes look so beautiful.

"I missed you." You said into his shoulder. Your lips brushed against the soft fabric as you spoke.

"'M missed yeh too." His voice cracked as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. His fingers laced through yours as you moved closer into the warmth of him. "Flor's inside if y'wanna talk."

You sighed, you knew you needed to talk, knew you had to talk about it. You just didn't want to. The feel of him being close to you again, the intoxicating smell of him near.

Your head lifted from his sweatshirt, only to see how rough he'd been doing himself the last few days. His bloodshot green eyes had large bags under them. His scruff on his face, messy brown curls. He'd done just as bad as you.

You only caught sight of his lips for a second before saying fuck it. Talking could happen later, you'd missed him so much.

Your lips pressed against his with a force that knocked him backwards for a second but you didn't care. No, this was the most "at home" you'd felt in days.

He felt like home.

His lips molded to yours so perfectly, once he got a hold of himself. His hand slipped to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him.

Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest as your lips parted, welcoming him back.

He pulled you up with him. His hands around your waist, lips still connected with yours as he walked the pair of you inside.

You wished you could slow down the moment. The way he was holding you tightly to him, like he never wanted to let you go again. The fleeting feelings ran through your mind but they all ended the same way.

You fucking loved him, so much.

All your energy was going into not crying from your surge of emotions. The rush of adrenaline was intoxicating, your shaky hands danced in the messy tangle of his unkempt brown curls as you tried to hold onto that shred of sanity you had left.

"I missed you." You breathed out when you came up for air. His forehead pressed against yours, his body crowded yours to the wall. "God, I fucking missed you."

He chuckled, a slight smile on his now swollen lips but you couldn't help it. It was the only thing your brain could come up with besides how sorry you were for not giving him a chance to explain.

"Miss me any?" Her voice made you look around Harry. Her arms crossed over her chest but that hint of a smile smoothed across her lips as she leaned on the doorway that led to the entry.

"Wanna see how much I missed you both?"

>>>

Maybe this wasn't necessarily the healthiest way to deal with your problems as a couple. But at this moment you could have cared less what a therapist would say about your tendency to avoid things that were important.

You laid on your back, your legs wide open, toes digging into the mattress as Florence's tongue pressed a wide thick lick through your folds. Circling around your bundle of nerves before slipping into you.

You would have moaned out loud, if it wasn't for the dick rammed down your throat. Your head laid off the side of the bed, your vision upside down as Harry's pulsating member slid down your open and waiting mouth. His hand around your neck, squeezing himself.

"Missed fuckin' yeh throat, pup." He groaned out as his hips snapped against your spit soaked face. He backed out long enough for you to catch your breath before shoving his way back in. Your abused throat would hate you for this in the morning but right now you didn't care.

"Feel good, baby?" Flor asked as her finger curved inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that always made your eyes roll back. She didn't have to ask if it felt good, she knew it did, she just wanted the bragging rights of who gave you the better orgasm of the night.

Harry's member pulled out of your throat. You tried your best to catch your breath as he crouched down to your level. His hands doing the best they could to wipe away all the saliva that ran down your cheeks. Playful green eyes met yours.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" He asked even though he really didn't need to. The sound of your moans alone was enough to tell you were close.

"Mhm." Was all you managed to get out, your hands threaded through Florence hair as her mouth joined her fingers. Your eyes closed as you got closer to your high, your skin raised in goosebumps as she did that fucking flicking, swirl, of her tongue that always did you in.

"Good, 'm gonna make you cum harder than that." Harry's words faded in your mind as that crashing sensation washed you away.

Florence scoffed as her head lifted from between your legs. The back of her hand wiped your juices away as she rolled her eyes at Harry.

"Good fucking luck trying to top that one."

"Guys," you groaned, your hand over your eyes. "Supposed to be makeup sex, not a competition."

"Can be both." Harry mumbled under his breath, quietly, but you still caught it. Your eyes glared at him as you turned around on the bed.

"Shut up." You mumbled as you reached forward, your hands around his neck as you brought him up to your level. Your mouth enveloped his quickly to stop the argument.

You pulled him onto the bed with you two. His knees hitting the edge before climbing up the rest of the way as your tongue took control of this kiss. It didn't happen often but when it did you ran with the opportunity. His mouth following your lead until you pulled away slightly, your teeth catching his bottom lip softly causing him to moan.

"Fuck," he cursed as you pulled away that sweet smile on your face like you didn't know that he loved that.

Florence came behind the pair of you, her lips pressed against your shoulder, up your neck, small love bites left here and there before she took the chance to kiss you when Harry pulled away. Her hands pulled on your waist, tugging you down to the bed to lay on your back.

"Ready?" She asked as Harry stroked himself, the nod of your head was all he needed to hoist your legs up. His pulsing tip ran through your folds as you reached for Florence, your arms wrapped around her thighs as you pulled her down on your mouth.

Harry continued to tease your opening. His tip slipping in and out of you easily as your tongue ran rapid through Florence's pussy. Her wetness was almost to the point of dripping down your face. You groaned as you pulled her by her thighs down harder onto you as your tongue circled into her hole. Fuck, you missed her taste.

You heard the sounds of their kissing, her moans, before he finally pushed his way into you. Your walls clinging around him immediately, pulling him closer into you, making him hiss lowly.

"Jesus, she always so fuckin' tight." His hands embedded themselves into your thighs as he held you open for him. His fingers pulled back the lips of your pussy briefly before you felt Florence shift forward, her core off your mouth as her tongue circled your clit.

Your loud, unabashed moans filled the room. Your mind clouded with nothing but desire and lust, barely functioning at all. Thoughts weren't making sense, you were going based on instinct when your fingers slipped into her cunt that was inches in front of your face.

Harry's grunt and groans as he fucked into your tight cave halted for a moment, his erection pulled out of you briefly. The unmistakable sounds of your girlfriend choking on your boyfriends cock filled the room.

You moaned at the sound, your core clenched as your fingers finally twisted into the right angle. Her velvet walls pulled you in as she tried her best to keep breathing around Harry's thick member.

"Fuck, keep doing that." He panted, accent thick, voice deep with pleasure as you hit that spot in her again. A flood of her arousal coated your fingers as she let out another loud moan, her body slacked on top of you as Harry pulled out of her throat.

You weren't prepared for when he thrusted himself back into you. Your moan cracked as you gripped tightly onto Florence's thighs.

"Told yeh I was gonna make you cum harder." He mumbled as Florence let out a laugh. She rolled over to lay beside you, her lips lazily kissing yours the best they could through Harry's rough thrusts into you.

"Make her cum harder than I did and you can cuddle her tonight." Florence smirked, her hands ran over your hair as you pouted.

"Deal."

"Hey! I wanted to cuddle both of you." Your head shot off the bed as you glared at the both of them, who were both very very clearly taking their competition too far.

Leave them alone for four days and you come back to them acting like children.

"Tomorrow night, sweetheart. I got somethin' prove." Harry smiled as he leaned down to you, his lips capturing yours before you could protest, a roll of his hips had you moaning.

Maybe this bet wasn't that bad.

"Yeah, proving I'm better." Florence scoffed again, adding fuel to the fire as her hand leisurely traveled between her legs. A soft moan passed through her lips as Harry basically growled at her through his teeth.

You rolled your eyes at her as she gave you a shrug and a smile. His length pulled out of you again as he lifted you up, switching you over to be on top of him.

He was pushed back into you in less than a second, his hands grasping the round flesh of your ass tightly as he leaned you forward into his chest. His legs pushed himself upwards, hitting your sweet spot every single time.

You were thankful he pulled you into his chest. Your moans rolled easily as his hands dug deeper into your skin, you were teetering on the edge with in minutes. His gruff groans as his sensitive pulsating member pushed into you only added fuel to the fire.

"Come 'ere, baby." He said as he slowed down his punishing pace his hand left your bum, fingers slipped into Florence's mouth for only a few seconds before finding their way back to you.

The pressure from his finger prodding into your back hole had your eyes rolling in the back of your head. The deep, low, sound that resonated in the bottom of your chest had a smug grin on Harry's face.

He knew he'd won.

His finger and along with his cock fucked into you until you could hardly register your own name. You could feel your heart beating in your core, your nipples so sensitive you could barely stand to have them brush against his own chest.

Harry hummed as you seemed to lose yourself in the feeling of your mounting high. Florence's hand between her legs, stroking herself faster as her lips pressed to Harry's.

You felt a pressure in your stomach you'd never felt before, building and building, ready to bust any second. You didn't even have time to warn him when you felt the dam release. Your head floated in the clouds as your juices ran down him, soaking the bed.

"Well, fuck, I've never made her do that." Florence mumbled after Harry's final thrust into you. His gloating laugh filled the room as you laid limp.

"Told yeh so." He cooed as his hand ran down your back in soothing circles. Florence kissed softly on your shoulder, your arm, wherever until your eyes finally focused on her.

"You okay?" She asked as she brushed away the hair that was stuck to your face.

"Mhm, wanna sleep." You whined, your head pressed into Harry's shoulder tightly as you felt him soften inside of you. Your hips shifted to move off him but his hand quickly pressed your ass down again.

"Go to sleep, darlin'." He kissed the top of your head before he nuzzled into your. Florence arm wrapped around the both of you as Harry opened one arm for her to cuddle into his side.

>>>

"Mornin', sweetheart." Harry hummed as he rounded the corner to his kitchen. A quick kiss placed on Florence's lips before he picked up the cup of tea she already had made for him.

"Morning." She mumbled into her cup. Her legs pulled up beside her as she sat on the counter.

"Wot's wrong?" He paused before taking a sip, his eyes studying her as she sighed.

"It's just…" she stared at the coffee pot that hadn't been used in a week. The steaming brown liquid dripped into the vessel below it. She sighed, shaking her head. "I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was make sure she didn't leave again."

Harry's eyes softened, his hand ran through her hair, lips pressed to her forehead. Trying his best to comfort her which is what he tried, and usually failed, at doing all week long.

"We'll talk to her, okay?"

Flor nodded her head, her lips pressed to his one last time as they heard the door to the bedroom creak open. A shirt you'd taken out of Harry's closet hit your knees as you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes.

"Morning." You said as you gave both of them a kiss, your eyes more trained to the pot of delicious coffee than either one of their faces.

"Y/N?" Florence asked as you poured your first cup, the smell wafting into your senses had your knees almost buckling.

"Yeah, baby?" You asked without turning around. The glass pressed to your swollen lips from all of last nights kissing, the warm mug felt like a relief to them.

"Can, uhm," she started, you finally turned around to see her looking uncomfortable. Her tongue wet her lips, eyes glanced to Harry before she continued. "can we talk, you know… about everything now?"

"Right, yeah of course, we should… just-" You could feel the nerves pit in your stomach growing as you nodded towards the table. The three of you sat in your usual chairs, your usual mugs in your hands, but it wasn't an usual morning.

No, now you actually had to talk about what was bothering you.

"Right." Harry said, hoping to get the conversation started with already but the room was dead silent.

"Right." You repeated mostly to fill the awkward silence that was growing thicker in the room by the second. You could feel your ears rushing, the room was so quiet. No TV to drown out the weird atmosphere, no music to cover up the fact you had to talk about what happened.

"So, I guess 'm gonna start." Harry said after he glanced at the both of you two, seeing he was going to have to get the ball rolling on this whole thing.

"Yeh know 'm really, really, sorry 'bout the Gemma stuff. I was gonna tell her the next week after the last interview but she decided to come in early and surprise me." Your lips rolled in your mouth as you listened to him. You knew the whole time you sat in your apartment, drunk, that a version of this was what happened. "And I didn't want yeh to get hurt and 'm so sorry it seemed like I was hiding yeh away from people."

You could feel the start of tears in your eyes. You sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down from a blubbering meltdown that was about to happen. Which you might have been able to avoid if his hand didn't wrap itself around yours from across the table.

"Just," you sighed, your hand squeezed his as you tried to wipe away the tears that rolled down your cheek. "Just, I should have said it was bothering me before it got to that point and I'm sorry I didn't and I blew up then walked out."

"It's okay." Florence said softly, her other hand laced through your free one. "But… maybe, we should agree to talk about stuff a bit more."

"Yeah, think that would probably be good." Harry agreed as he scooted forward in his chair, his hand wiped away the rest of your tears. "So, yeh gonna stay, right?"

You smiled up to him, your hand laced tighter through Florence's fingers as you nodded your head.

Yeah, you think you'd stay with them.

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rocking-space-dragon · 4 years ago

Text

Alrighty, so.

Philza, Phliza, Philza. Philza Minecraft.

What to make of you?

To start, I think it's important to talk about Phliza's first major appearance on the server - at the end of November 16th.

It's important to think about this Canonically, as it's incredibly impactful to his character.

Now, Phliza, from what we can gather, raised Wilbur and Tommy - Alongside his best friend/surrogate kid, Techno. They're best friends and not related, sure, but you're not gonna tell me Philza didn't raise Techno and Wilbur like they were both his kids.

I guarantee Techno accidentally called Phliza dad at some point, but we're getting off-topic.

What's we do know is that, at some point, everyone left. They went off to do their own things, and this is, to me, incredibly important. I wish we had a timeline of how long it's been since everyone left, because that would help, but the reason why I think this is so important is because I believe it contributes majorly to The way Phliza acts in regards to his kids - but I'll get to that later.

:readmore:

Back to the topic at hand - Philza shows up to find what?

One of his sons is broken down and losing his mind, ready to blow up a city he helped found. The other two are fighting to the death, both utterly convinced they're in the right - and before he can convince his first son to do the right thing, he blows everything up and forces him to kill him.

IMMEDIATELY after that, he's got to help fight off the monsters one of his sons summoned, in the ruins of this town.

It's been less than two months since that day. No wonder Philza says that governments take genuinely nice, kind-hearted people and turn them against each other with power and corruption. He's not just talking about Tubbo and Tommy.

He's talking about Tommy and Techno.

He's talking about Wilbur and Schlatt.

All that Phliza relates L'Manburg to is pain. He doesn't have memories like Tommy and the others do. To him, L'Manburg is the place which drove his first son to madness and eventually led to his death, exiled the second, trapped him under house arrest and tried to execute his best friend right in front of him.

Can you blame him for wanting it gone?

I can't. I genuinely can't think of a single good memory Phil had in that place - apart from a few with Ghostbur and Fundy, but I kinda doubt memories made with the ghost of your son and his son would help lessen the resentment you feel towards the town that killed one and orphaned the other.

Now, I want to move on from L'Manburg and toward Phliza's feelings toward his kids.

See, people say Phliza is a bad father, and I think they're... Not exactly right. Philza isn't so much a bad father as he is an absent one. Let me explain.

I mentioned earlier that Phliza, in canon, had his kids leave, and this is important because it's a show of independence. Sure, they're still young, but that's not the point - the point is that they'd already gone and proven to Philza that they were fine on their own, that they were ready to head out and make their own decisions.

And Philza respects that. He says, very plainly, that if Tommy wants his help he'll come get it.

Philza has the utmost faith in his kids that they'll come to him if they need him, but the issue, I believe, is that this faith has given way to a sense of ignorance. He's so confident that his kids are alright without him, that he's hesitant to make sure they're okay most of the time. Not all of the time - remember, this is the man who left house arrest and went all the way to Techno's base to make sure him and Tommy were okay without them knowing.

It's obvious Phliza still -cares- but he's been gone so long and he's given his children so much freedom that he's practically fallen out of touch with them, and doesn't really know how to fix it. People talk a lot about him not going to Tommy when he was in exile, but what was he supposed to do?

Not only did the majority of the server have no idea what was happening in Exile, he -knows- Tommy. He knows that if he'd shown up and tried to be all fatherly and comforting, Tommy would have most likely taken it as an insult, or as pity.

This brings me, tangentially, onto Ranboo - because Ranboo was someone who needed help, and Philza was happy to help him. He saw Ranboo wasn't okay, so did what he could to help him, after asking if he wanted it - if that's not a fatherly instinct, what is?

It's similar for Technoblade. Techno allies himself with Phil, spends time with Phil, talks to Phil; it's little wonder that he has preference to Techno. This doesn't mean he doesn't love his kids, but you're probably going to spend more time and be more inclined to side with a friend you've known all your life, who's still around, rather than your kids who left on their own journeys.

And it only makes sense you'd hate the people who tried to kill said friend - even if they were members of a town your son loved, and one was your grandchild.

See, I get the feeling that if Tommy or Wilbur went to Philza and told him they wanted help, or that they needed reassurance, he'd give it. He'd be there for them as their father - but the problem is, people treat Phliza like he's a father who's been living in the same house as them this entire time and ignoring his kids in the next room as everything burns down.

In reality, Phliza is a father who's kids have left home already, gone out and carved their own paths. They're young, sure, but they're stubborn, strong willed, independent. He's got faith that, if they need him, they'll come to him and he'll be there.

Fundy is actually a good example of this - when he came to Philza, talking about the adoption, asking for help, Philza let him live with him. He took him fishing. He spent an entire day with his Grandson because he needed it. But Fundy's also independent - Phil isn't the type to check in on him any time he's around because he has faith in them.

Most of all, I believe Philza thinks he's doing the right thing. I believe he thinks that blowing up L'Manburg helped his sons, because to him, all that town ever did was hurt them... Regardless of what the outcome might have been.

Is this due, in part, to the fact that he's likely still grieving over Wilbur? Most likely.

After all, It's only been two months.

At the end of the day, I don't think Philza is a bad father. I think he's a father who watched his kids leave, watched them carve out their own path in life together, and then had to watch one die in front of him. He's a father who cares deeply about his children, but respects who they are and their own independence and has faith they'll come to him if they need him.

The issue is that sometimes, that faith leads to him failing to see when his kids truly do need him - but don't have the words to say it.

#dream smp #wilbursoot #tommyinnit #mcyt #Technoblade #philza minecraft #long post #mcytblr #L'Manburg #Tubbo #Jschlatt #Philza Breakdown

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strangeradventuresofp · 5 years ago

Text

emotions (klaus x reader)

We Only See Each Other at Weddings and Funerals - 1

warnings : implied sexual assault, swearing

word count : 3984

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

A/N : hey so !!! i’ve wanted to write a canon fic for so long but it took me a while to establish a story line and i haven’t completely finished it yet but i hope you like this!! kinda long and it’s basically just the first episode as in introduction but i rly hope you enjoy it!!<3 xo p

On the 12th hour of the first day of October, 43 women around the world gave birth. This was unusual only in the fact that none of these women had been pregnant when the day first began.

Sir Reginald Hargreeves, eccentric billionaire and adventurer, resolved to locate and adopt as many of the children as possible.

He got eight of them.

~~~

Your eyes flashed with horror as you looked down at the man in front of you, sprawled out on the path. His limbs were mangled and the pool of blood beneath him rapidly increased as it leaked out of his body. Glancing down, you noticed that upon your shaking hands were red stains, and your mouth turned dry while you walked away, shoving your hands in your pockets. Hopefully no one would find him, and if they did hopefully no one would find your fingerprints on his skin, after all, you didn’t even remember doing it. You felt bad, perhaps he didn’t deserve to die, only be injured. Your mind battled with itself as you remember how he had touched you and cornered you into the alleyway. How his fingers dragged and raked across your flesh and grabbed mercilessly at your clothing. He deserved it.

Murdering people wasn’t new to you. You had been forced to do it when you were a child, in an attempt to create an emotional disconnect from a young age. You didn’t hate doing it. Some people deserved it. You just hated that most times you didn’t know you had killed someone; you had lost control and adrenaline consumed your entire body and mind.

The door to your apartment faced you as you pulled up short, checking every pocket for your keys, trembling still as you managed to push them into the lock after numerous previous tries. You used your elbow to push the handle down, hauling open the door with your body weight, kicking it closed. The bag you carried dropped to the floor at the sound of the door closing, and you made straight for the bathroom, ready to wash away the awful day that you had had.

It wasn’t long before you stepped out of the shower, drying your body off and changing. A towel was still in your hands and you continued to pat down your hair as you trudged into your living room, feet grazing along the wooden floor. The noise of the TV droned in and out of your ears, combing through your dampened hair.

“…Little bit of rain potentially, later in the week…” The refrigerator door opened when you pulled it, your fingers reaching out for a carton of orange juice. The glass filled as you poured in the juice and began drinking from it.

“We’re going now live to a breaking story,” you lowered your glass from your lips before dragging your tongue across them, picking up what was left as you turned towards the TV. “Moments ago, police reported the death of the world’s most eccentric and reclusive billionaire, Sir Reginald Hargreeves.” Your heart startled at the words, and you felt unsure of whether to be relieved or not. Although he was your Father, he was never a Dad to you. He had created a robot, Grace, which you were expected to call Mom, and she looked after you, because Reginald could never be bothered. You often thought of what your ‘biological mother’ would be like and maybe you would have felt more comfortable if you had never been adopted. Obviously, you knew that was untrue. She had given you away for a suitable compensation, although she had never meant to give birth in the first place. But, you really enjoyed the thought of having a completely different life.

You had hardly spoken to any of your siblings for a while. Once in a while you received a call from Diego, just checking to see how you were. Sometimes Vanya phoned but it was very rare. Allison was always too busy with her movie, you wondered if she would even turn up for the funeral. Klaus hadn’t been seen in a long time, and Luther was still on the moon. You had been close with them when you were younger, but now it felt weird to be so intimate with each other’s lives after you had all left the academy; talking felt forced and uncomfortable so you avoided it at all costs. It was going to be different again after the funeral. You would all be expected to keep in touch, something you honestly didn’t care to do. Though it might be nice to see them again, you cringed just imagining it.

Soon, you shuffled off to your bedroom, turning out all of the lights on the way there. As you lay down, pulling the blanket over your body, you sighed, pinching in between your brows before closing your eyes and willing yourself off to sleep.

~~~

The pavement scuffed your shoes as you lazily made your way from your cab to your childhood home, breathing deeply while the cold air hit your face. Just as goose bumps prickled your skin, you found yourself wrapping your fingers around the metal gate, your feet stepping up the concrete stairs, face to face with the door. Suddenly you remembered how small you still felt against the mansion’s profile. Your nose burnt as you took one last deep breath, thrusting open the entrance, stepping inside.

Your eyes immediately scanned every inch of the lobby, and they rolled as you noticed that everything was exactly the same. The chandelier still hung at the same height, gently swinging left to right, right to left. The lights were still very dim and still flickered occasionally. The windows behind the staircase still allowed light to gleam through the ornate balustrade. The pillars holding up the second floor were still separated by wooden archways. The circular table still stood in the centre of the space; its feet lay on the partially patterned floor. The rest of the floor was still filled with the ugly black and white tiles that remain dull even after being polished. Nothing had changed.

Slowly, your feet took you into the living room, your eyes darting around to scan for something different once again. The fire still roared in the fireplace. The fireplace was still surrounded by the mantelpiece, Five’s portrait dangling high above it. The couches were still the same red, the table, the stools, and the bar, even the contents of the bar hadn’t changed a bit.

“Miss Y/N.” Your head whipped around as your eyes met those of who the voice belonged to, and you smiled.

“Hey, Pogo. How are you doing?” Your question brought a smile to the chimpanzee’s face and he moved over towards you, leaning on his walking stick. He hadn’t changed, either, apart from a few tufts of hair beginning to turn grey on his chin. He still possessed a set of glasses, a red overcoat with a purple waistcoat, and a red and blue patterned tie. He owned other ties, but that was always your favourite. You leaned down to hug him, which he returned immediately, pulling away after a few seconds.

“Is anyone else here?”

“I am aware of Master Diego's presence, although the others I haven’t seen, yet.”

“Thanks, Pogo.”

~~~

“What exactly are you looking for?” Luther spun around to see you leant against the door frame of your Dad’s bedroom, with your arms folded, brows knitted together. “They’re all locked. Diego already checked.”

“No forced entry, no sign of struggle. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Diego’s figure moved past you, entering the room that Luther seemed to be inspecting, leaning down slightly to get a better look as he neared him. “Oh, you got big, Luther.”

“Understatement.” You snorted, chipping in.

“What’s the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?”

“What do you want?” Luther frowned as his arms were brought up slightly, gesturing his confusion as to why Diego was teasing him. His brows furrowed more as Number 2 stretched for his back pocket, silence filling the room for just a moment. He held a creased, folded piece of paper in his hand, extending his arm out to Number 1.

“The autopsy report. I broke into the coroner’s office.”

“Well, that was stupid.” Your hand found its way to your hip as you stared in disbelief at him, who was now sitting down, way too comfortable. He shrugged at you, before continuing.

“Surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was… normal. Just boring old heart failure.”

“Yeah, so?” The larger boy asked as he scanned over the piece paper after opening it.

“So, stop looking for something to prove that it wasn’t.” Luther’s eyes looked over to you, annoyance clearly present in your voice. “He’s dead. That’s it. No mystery.” You pushed yourself off the door frame before walking down the hall, hearing Luther and Diego mumbling to each other still, not knowing exactly what they’re saying, and not exactly caring. They were annoying to listen to, one always trying to outdo the other. The truth was, Diego didn’t like being Number 2, and Luther liked being Number 1 too much. He always thought that because he was Number 1 it made him the leader, but it didn’t. It was something that irked all of you, but Diego felt it the most. You couldn’t stand their pointless bickering when you were children and you certainly couldn’t stand it now.

It had been a few years short of a decade since you had left the academy, but it honestly felt like you hadn’t been gone at all. You had expected some sort of a change to have been made, but then again, you expect too much. The interior design was outdated and sickening to look at. It reminded you of everything that had happened when you were children.

Stepping along the hallway, numerous paintings, all very similar, caught your eye. The famous family portraits. The first contained all of you, apart from Vanya. She wasn’t ever included in things like that. The way her eyes turned sad whenever your Dad told her there was nothing special about her broke your heart. The second was the same, excluding Number 5; taken after he had jumped through time and not returned. It had been 16 years, more or less, and he still hadn’t returned. You often wondered if he was even alive, wherever he was. It was safe to say you had a fear of losing people after what had happened to Five. The third contained five of the children, Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus and you. It had been taken a few weeks after Ben had passed – something you hated to remember; it made your entire body ache.

You peeled your eyes away from the paintings, looking down. Tears glossed over your eyes as your mind flooded with thoughts about what had happened that day. It was horrifying. The way it happened had been completely erased from your memory. It all happened so quickly. All you can remember was seeing his lifeless body spread out on the floor. Your Mom had tried to save him, but in the end, there was nothing she could have done. Pogo had sat you all down in the lounge and broke the news to you. That day was one of the most miserable.

“Y/N? Hey, are you okay?” You hadn’t even realised you had started crying; not expecting to get so emotional, it was never a good thing for you. Looking up through misty eyes, you saw Klaus, frowning instantly, moving away when he stepped towards you. “Still mad at me?” He rubbed the back of his neck nervously while you rolled your eyes, angrily swiping at the loose tears that had fallen onto your face.

He hadn’t changed. His hair was the same length and texture. His facial hair looked as if it hadn’t grown the tiniest bit. His eyes were still that gorgeous green colour and were paired with slight bags underneath. He still wore those pants with the gaps in the side that you loved to wear, and the battered sneakers that you would have thought were his only pair of shoes. A bushy coat wrapped itself around his shoulders, hugging around the top of his body and the shirt he wore ended just below his belly button, exposing a thin strip of his flesh.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fi—“

“I said I’m fine!” Klaus winced, nodding slightly before strolling down the stairs, glancing up at you after every couple of steps.

Huffing, you walked into your old bedroom, lying down and closing your eyes, calming down as you focused on your breathing. You hated that it still got you so riled up after so long, groaning in frustration as you tried not to think about it. You clenched and unclenched your fists every few seconds, breathing in sync.

Children behave, that’s what they say when we’re together.

A smile slowly crept onto your face as you heard the familiar words, sitting up. It was something you and your siblings listened to often, when your Dad wasn’t around. Smile turning to a grin, you stood, moving your arms and feet in time with the music. Nothing mattered at that moment. You weren’t thinking about Five, or Ben, or Klaus. You weren’t thinking about anything, just losing yourself in the music.

I think we’re alone now. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.

I think we’re alone now. The beating of our hearts is the only sound.

The music stopped as quickly as it had started as everything suddenly went dark, the sound of thunder clapping so loud, as if it was outside your door. Gasping, you threw your door open, rushing downstairs as fast as you could, opening the door to the courtyard, eyes widening at the sight of blue electricity. Soon enough, your siblings joined you outside, confused looks plastered on all of your faces. Diego stood protectively in front of you, Luther by his side, Allison holding his hand.

“Don’t get too close!” Allison exclaimed, worry coating her voice.

“Yeah, no shit.” Diego replied, brows furrowing at what stood in front of you all.

“Out of the way!” Klaus came running out of the house, pushing past all of you, holding a fire extinguisher in his arms, attempting to spray what looked like a temporal anomaly, or a miniature black hole, one of the two. He rolled his eyes as it did nothing, throwing it instead, watching as it was consumed by the blue.

“What is that gonna do?”

“I don’t know. D’you have a better idea?” You reached out, latching onto Klaus’ sleeve, pulling him back to where you were standing. He looked over his shoulder, flashing you a smile before looking forward once again. Just as you clutched his wrist, a boy hit the floor, wearing a suit that was much too big for him, the electricity fading away quickly afterwards. He groaned, stood, and dusted off his suit, and your jaw dropped, feeling your heart miss a beat.

“Does anybody else see little Number 5 or is that just me?” Klaus questioned as you lunged forward, pulling Five into a tight hug, a couple of tears escaping your eyes as he returned the embrace. He looked exactly the same as he did when he left so, had he not aged? Was he permanently going to stay a 13 year old, now? So many questions raced through your mind at a lightning speed, but you really couldn’t care. Your brother was finally home.

Shortly after, you had all made your way in the kitchen. You perched on the side of the table, beside Klaus and the rest of your siblings, watching Five collect the things to make a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, a cutting board and knife already laid out on the table.

“What’s the date? The exact date.” The boy abruptly asked, and a couple of your siblings turned to look at each other in confusion.

“The 24th.”

“Of what?”

“March.”

“Good.” His eyes flickered for a moment, as if in concern, but you shrugged it off after realising nobody else had noticed.

“So… Where did you go?” Your voice came out a lot more nervously than you had meant it to, afraid of what his answer would be, in case he said something bad.

“The future. It’s shit by the way.”

“Called it!” Klaus looked up at you after yelling out and you frowned, almost as if scolding him for speaking when it wasn’t his turn. As the others spoke, you watched Five intensely, with a burning curiosity about what he saw in the future, wondering how bad it could actually have been. After all, Five didn’t look like he had done too bad for himself during whatever it was that he went through. But something about him was off. His eyes looked dull, like he’d been traumatised by one thing or another, like he had seen it all. Your body shivered imagining all the things that he could’ve seen.

~~~

The rain pattered on the concrete whilst you advanced once again into the courtyard. Looking around, you noticed the statue that stood in the centre and looked to the floor, sighing as Klaus gently pulled you along by your sleeve, an awkward but genuine smile passing between the two of you. Being mad at him was the least of your worries right now.

“Did something happen?” Your mother held her umbrella, a smile plastered on her seamless face, the same smile she always wore. Her eyes glanced around at you and your siblings, whose eyes also gazed around to look at each other. Your knuckles turned white as you gripped your own umbrella tightly, angry at her for even asking the question. Your jaw clenched and your other hand balled itself into a fist before Klaus nudged you subtly and you relaxed, his eyes searching yours as a look of distress fell over his face, a cigarette hanging limply from his lips.

“Dad died, remember?” Allison tilted her head at your mother, watching her terrifyingly realistically happy face fall into one of sympathy. Diego turned to face her in alarm as her red lips turned downwards.

“Oh. Yes, of course.”

The sound of footsteps allowed you to look away from your Mom, instead watching Pogo as he joined you and your siblings in the courtyard. Luther held your Dad’s urn and looked towards the chimpanzee just as Klaus sparked up another cigarette, this one looking just as miserable as the last.

“Whenever you’re ready, dear boy.” Number 1 took a deep breath at Pogo’s instructions, waiting a few seconds before extending his arm up to grasp the lid of the urn, taking off the lid. The metal scraped against itself as Luther dropped the lid-holding hand to his side, tilting the urn 180 degrees. Klaus cringed and you could barely hold back a giggle when the ashes all fell to the floor at once and Luther awkwardly shifted from one foot to the other as Pogo started to speak, but before he could finish, he was interrupted.

“He was a monster.” Your eyes darted to Diego, knowing he was right, but wanting to hear the rest of what Pogo had to say. Klaus let out a breathy laugh and the chimpanzee looked hurt, to which you frowned in empathy. “He was a bad person and a worse father. The world’s better off without him.”

“Diego, stop.” Knowing he was right but knowing it wasn’t the time made your voice waver as you spoke.

“My name is Number Two. You know why? Because our father couldn’t be bothered to give us actual names. He had Mom do it.” Turning your head to look at Klaus, silently begging him to help him shut Diego up. He took a drag of his cigarette before flicking his eyes to you, subtly shaking his head, causing you to look around at your other siblings as your Mom said something, locking eyes with Luther for a brief moment before looking away again. “Look, you wanna pay your respects, go ahead. But at least be honest about the kind of man he was.”

“You should stop talking now.” Luther warned, allowing you to snap your head up to him, watching the two of them, grasping tightly onto the bottom of Klaus’ coat, sharing a frown with Five before turning to view the scene they had created once again. “Diego, stop talking.”

“He couldn’t even stand the sight of you!” The two began to fight, and your hands tightened around the fabric in anxiety before loosening against your will, earning a look from Klaus after he had decided to egg on the fight happening before you. Trembling, you followed Five inside, whipping your body around when you heard a loud thud of something hitting the concrete, tears welling in your eyes while you watched Ben’s statue fall, hurrying inside before any tears spilt. Your feet reverberated in the empty hall, gasping as Luther came hurrying past you.

“Are you okay?” You hadn’t expected an answer from him, frowning when you saw him seizing his left arm, a cut hiding beneath his hand. Your body rotated, eyebrows puckering when you saw Diego and your mother step through the door. “What the hell did you do to him?”

“Nothing bad.”

“You hurt him, Diego.”

“Do you kids want to make cookies?” Storming away at your mother’s request, you fished through your pockets to find your apartment keys, shoving the umbrella on the floor after closing it, leaving as fast as you could, not caring to slam the doors once you had left. Pulling up the hood of your coat, shoving your hands in your pockets, walking away from the house you used to live in. You felt as if your feet were thundering on the pavement, afraid that if you stepped in the wrong place that you could cause the pavement to crack under the pressure.

You only ever saw your siblings at Weddings and Funerals, although you heard that none of you had attended Allison’s wedding. But, then again, what did she expect when she held it in L.A, as if all of you could afford to travel there simply for a wedding and then travel back afterwards. You had no idea why your siblings just couldn’t get on for a few hours at the very least. The tensions irked you like nothing else. You were siblings; you should act like siblings, not enemies.

~~~

Loud, rapid knocking on your apartment door woke you from your sleep and you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose before throwing off the blankets, standing, trudging over to your front door. The knocking stopped and you wrapped your hand around the handle, looking out of the peephole. Opening the door after not seeing anyone, you stepped out to look into the corridor, shrugging when no one seemed to be there.

“You should have locks on your windows.” You let out a squeal as a voice spoke out from behind you, whirling around to see your brother stood in front of you.

“What? How did you—“

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Is that blood?” Glancing down to his red-stained arm, he shrugged off your question before you frowned, standing. “Five.”

Minutes later you joined him back in your lounge, with a first aid kit held in your hands. After pulling his sleeve up, you winced, taking a few minutes to clean his wound before bandaging up his arm, closing the first aid kit as he opened his mouth to speak.

“When I jumped forward and got stuck in the future, do you know what I found? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.”

my masterlist

#the umbrella academy #tua #the umbrella academy season 2 #tua s2 #tua season two #the umbrella academy x reader #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves x reader #tua s2 spoilers #klaus x reader #tua season 2 #reader insert #x reader

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vikingpoteto · 4 years ago

Text

middle children must unionize

read on ao3 ______________________

my contributior for @batfam-big-bang

Summary: Jason realizes no one is taking care of Tim - not even Tim himself. He decides to do something about it.

Notes: I can't stress enough how grateful I am for joining this event. First of all, stan the mods. Stan my beta reader team, @timmydrakewings, @stormleviosa and @sun-lit-roses. Stan my artist team @houser-of-stories, @reese-haleth and @anicomicqueen To all of these amazing talented people that, for whatever reason chose to help me with this story, I can't stress enough how grateful I am. ________________________

Jason doesn’t keep in touch with the Bats after Bruce’s gone.

Batwoman only trusts him as far as she can throw him. Dick is not easy to avoid, but Jason keeps their contact to a minimum nonetheless. Ninja girl doesn’t speak with him. Replacement… Well. Jason does have a weird professional relationship with the kid. As professional as you can get with someone you tried to kill. Barbara will probably never forgive him for making Dick cry so many times. Brat girl will probably never forgive him for trying to kill Replacement. The other one, whatever his name is, is low-key/high-key terrified of Jason. As for the gremlin... Well, he’s like 10? 11? Jason doesn’t hang out with children, not even assassin ones.

So yeah. Not on friendly terms with anyone in the Wayne family.

However he is an instigator at heart and, while whatever they’re doing in the Batcave is none of his business, he’ll be damned if he doesn’t finish one of his rare visits by stirring things up a bit.

Dick usually makes sure he doesn’t do anything too outrageous, but a distraction comes in the form of Gremlin, who shows up demanding to know why Dick is late for their training session or whatever. The brat sends Jason a scathing look but otherwise doesn’t acknowledge him. Dick only smiles patiently and waves Jason goodbye, leaving Replacement unsupervised. Before heading out, Jason approaches Replacement, who’s sitting by the batcomputer.

“So,” he starts. Jason notices when the kid flinches a little. Your regular guy wouldn’t, but Jason was once a bat too. “How does it feel to be replaced, Replacement?”

Replacement’s shoulders go stiff for half a second.

When he turns to face Jason, however, his expression is empty.

“Predictable,” he says.

Jason quirks an eyebrow up. “Meaning?”

“I was only a Robin because I was, how can I put this, a coworker?” Replacement turns his eyes back to the computer and starts typing. “It was a no-strings-attached sort of deal. Bound to end at some point.”

That’s… new.

“You’re legally adopted into the Wayne family,” Jason hears himself reminding him.

“Yeah, ain’t that a pickle,” Replacement laughs. “Can you guess who forced Bruce to do that? My money was on Dick, but now I think it was probably Babs or Alfred.”

Jason stares, unsure what to make of that. Before he decides, the kid stands up.

"I have always been a patch job, so being dismissed is to be expected. I'm just overstaying my welcome at this point."

“You can get dismissed? I thought this was an until-your-untimely-death sort of gig.”

That was not how Jason expected this conversation to go, like, at all. He had never seen Replacement looking so… worn out? Lifeless?

“I don’t know, man,” Tim frowns as though he made himself confused. “God, I’m sleepy. See you around, I guess.”

And Jason watches him leave the cave with his shoulders hunched and an empty stare. Dick and Gremlin are so preoccupied with their sparring session that they don’t seem to notice. Jason sticks around for a few more seconds, stunned, before he realizes what he’s doing. He goes home.

Jason can’t stop thinking about what the kid said.

It’s not that he didn’t think something of the sorts, especially when he was angriest at Bruce. He had thought about how Batman trained his children to be soldiers and, like soldiers, they could be easily replaced. After all, what was one more problem child joining their broken family? What’s another deadly brat being thrown at some creeps wearing literal clown costumes?

He did think of them as Bruce’s kids though.

Not that Batman had any expertise in healthy parenting techniques, but Jason didn’t have any healthy son experiences to compare so it didn’t matter much. They were Batkids for the better and mostly for the worse, and if something happened to them, well, the crusade must go on.

He never thought of Robin as someone that could be sent home out of the blue, like your average GC Pig. A disgrace to the family? Sure. See, kids, we don’t talk about cousin Jason. He got himself killed and came back all crooked. That’s what happens if you kill murderers or forget to brush your teeth. Still, the idea of being dismissed for no reason never occurred to Jason. It was absurd, because, as far as Jason knew, his replacement was the perfect little soldier. Why would he walk away?

Dick fought with Bruce. Jason… well. You know. Brat girl had to move cities or whatever? Or she died, but got better? Jason doesn’t really know anything about the chick. Either way, he knows she became Batgirl soon after. Tim, however, had nothing stopping him from staying masked. Why would Replacement talk about being Robin as if it was a summer job?

Does that mean that the wimpy kid Jason has been bullying was really that cold and detached?

He thinks about it until his head hurts and he starts remembering times with Bruce and Dick and Alfred and suddenly he doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

It’s a good thing Jason is good at compartmentalizing, because that’s what he does. He pushes thoughts of Batman and Robin to the depths of his mind and forgets about it.

He doesn’t find out until weeks later.

He’s not visiting the manor because he wants to. It’s just that there is this stupid encrypted information he needs for a case and he isn’t exactly tech savvy. He doesn’t think Barbara would do him a solid - she’s still ignoring him for… whatever. He doesn’t even know. Probably something about hurting Dick’s pwecious feewings or eating the last cookie Alfred made. Either way, Jason first tries contacting Replacement directly. Only when the kid doesn’t pick up he forces himself to go to the cult headquarters.

He needs that data, dammit, and whoever called programming logic, was out of their damn mind. If true, execute commands 1, 2 and IV, it said. If what was true? Jason read and read and still didn’t get what it was referring to. And why would someone name the commands regular numbers then just… throw a fucking roman number? Just to spice things up? Whoever wrote that damn code should get a bullet in the foot.

“Jay!” Dick grins at him, although he looks unamused by the fact that Jason is coming in through a window on the second floor. “You do remember that we have a door, don’t you?”

“I like to keep ‘em guessing,” Jason says. “Which room is the kid’s? I have a job for him.”

Dick tilts his head to the side, confused. “Damian is at school?”

And then there’s that. A lot to unpack. First, Jason is deeply offended that Dick thinks he would ever go there after Gremlin, the child that likes to criticize Jason's skills despite the fact that a) Jason was trained by Damian's father and then b)Jason was trained by Damian's mother. Second, Damian Wayne. Going to Gotham Academy. Does he wear the uniform? Does he have homework or does he threaten the teachers with a sword until they quit? Did anyone explain to him the concept of playing tag before he murders a bunch of 9 year olds? Jason has so many questions. If only he had time.

“I said the kid . The human one, not the imp.”

“Oh.” Dick seems taken aback. “Oh, he... Jason, Tim isn’t in Gotham. You didn’t know?”

Jason groans. “Are you kidding me? You annoyed him into leaving the planet with his alien friends again, didn’t you?”

“No, he… I actually don’t know where he is now.”

Jason blinks in surprise. So Dick didn’t pick Bruce’s habit of microchipping his kids?

“What do you mean you don’t know? How do you lose a whole Robin? The uniform is basically a traffic cone.”

Dick sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Jason had seen Bruce do just that so many times he forgets for a moment whatever stupid joke he was about to make. When did his older brother become the dad?

“He left a while ago. He barely spent any time here at the manor after I gave Robin to Damian, so…”

Jason freezes. After I gave Robin to Damian, he says. Being dismissed is to be expected, the kid said weeks ago.

“Dick. What the fuck did you do?”

Dick looks surprised at the raw anger in Jason’s voice, even though he shouldn’t fucking be. Jason remembers the distant voice on that day. He did think that was oddly cold for Replacement, even if he was a calculating nerd. Except that wasn’t him being cold. That was him lying to himself.

Jason would know. He spent most of his childhood telling himself he didn’t need a loving father. A good part of his teenage years telling everyone that would hear that he didn’t care at all that Bruce kept holding him to the standards of the perfect son that went away. It’s a lot easier to pretend you didn’t care because it makes it hurt less when things are taken away. Jason was a fucking pro at that technique, so much he wonders how the hell he didn’t notice earlier.

“I did what I had to do,” Dick says, defensively. The way he does when he’s second guessing himself, but still in denial about it. “Tim’s a hero of his own right and he’s capable enough that…”

“That you fucking fired him?” Jason barks.

“Damian needs Robin, Jason! He’s just so lost and being Robin gave him a sense of purpose, allowed him to actually be a child.”

“No shit Gremlin is a child! What about Replacement? He’s, what, 15?”

“He’s 17, how do you not know your own brother’s age?”

“Whatever! He’s just a teen and you basically just told him to fuck off.”

Dick sighs. “Look, I tried to help Tim. Tim’s friends tried to help Tim. But he’s a mature person and he wanted some time for himself.”

Ain’t that a familiar song. A good dose of leave me the fuck alone while still wearing a goddamn bat on his chest and making sure to make enough noise to draw attention. He doesn’t like how close it hits to home, how Dick, who’s supposed to be the best of them, ends up being just as shit as recognizing emotions as any other Bat. Jason laughs without any humor.

Incensed, Dick’s jaw sets in challenge as he adds: “I trust Tim and I respected his choice to leave on his own mission, because he knows what’s right for him.”

“Keep telling yourself that if it helps you sleep at night,” Jason says. “You’re right. Give the demon what he needs. Replacement is a grown ass adult because you respect him so much .”

“Jason, I didn’t say that…”

“He was never a kid here, Dick, even I know that. You all keep throwing shit at him, messes for him to fix ‘cause it’s fine, it’s little Timmy, he’s so fucking capable, he can take it. Have you ever considered that he was always an adult because you all are the fucking children?”

I have always been a patch job sounds awfully similar to I’m here because he got lonely after you left.

But apparently Dick is done exercising his brotherly patience and Jason hit a nerve.

“What do you know about him? You never bothered to talk to him, to spend time with him. You don’t know shit about Tim.”

Jason scoffs. Dick’s face grows unevenly red.

“You don’t, Jason! You were busy trying to kill him. Remember that bonding experience? Must have been fun for him. Having the hero he grew up admiring trying to murder him?”

Jason throws the first punch. Dick easily dodges, the motherfucker, the damn superior Robin.

Screw it, Jason thinks as they start yet another classic Robin Brawl that would only end when Ninja Girl mysteriously dropped from the ceiling and kicked both of their asses.

Jason doesn’t hear from the cave for a while. His phone gets a weird virus, so he guesses Oracle heard he pushed Dick down the stairs. He just tosses the whole thing away and decides that screw his stupid case with the weird code, screw detective work. The biggest detectives aren’t around anymore. He'll just call Kory and convince her to help torch the place up and hopefully the new Batman and Robin will have to deal with the aftermath.

The next time Jason hears from his brothers, it’s a frantic call from Dick that makes Jason’s blood turn into ice: freaking Ra’s Al Ghul is in Gotham doing his whole Head of the Demon thing. He grabs his bike and he’s still on the comms with Dick as he heads to the manor because Alfred is in there.

“What did Gremlin do?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Dick answers and Jason can barely hear him over the wind. He’s probably swinging around Gotham as he speaks. “It was Tim. Tim’s back and Ra’s is after him and everyone he cares about.”

Fuck. This is the kid Dick trusted to go out alone on a self-discovery journey or whatever. Jason wonders what the hell he had been up to get that much unwanted attention.

In the end, everything works out, kind of. No one on their side dies, but Tim does get thrown out of a window. Of a very, very, veeery tall building. Jason still thinks he got off too easy. As smart as he is, Tim shouldn’t have survived a run in with Ra’s.

Jason is curious enough about it to stay in the cave after the fact. He and Dick sit near Tim’s bed while Leslie works her magic. Dick doesn’t take his eyes from his little brother’s pale face for even a second.

“We almost lost him,” he whispers at some point. “Again, we… I almost lost him.”

“But you didn’t,” Jason says, voice flat. “You saved him.”

Dick bites his lower lip hard enough to break the skin. Jason punches his shoulder to snap him out of it.

“Jay, about last time…”

“Ugh, don’t apologize, you freak. Why can’t you just bottle up your emotions and pretend nothing happened like the rest of this stupid family?”

That makes Dick give him a weak smile. If not for the bottling up part, for the part in which Jason admits they’re a family.

“You were… well, not right. I still think Tim shouldn’t be treated like a sidekick anymore,” Dick continues, despite Jason’s disgusted noises. “But he shouldn’t be left alone either. No one in this family should.”

Jason pretends to be gagging long enough that Dick gives up on trying to be a sensible adult and returns to silently watching over his brother.

After that, it’s a matter of stalling and by stalling he ends up watching the other Bats. He finds from Alfred that Ninja Girl isn’t looming over Tim’s bed because she’s in Hong Kong. Brat girl comes and goes the whole night and Jason doesn’t understand why she can’t simply sit down and wait as a pile of nerves like Dick is doing. At some point, she reads the morning newspaper and starts making so much fuss the one Jason doesn’t know the name - Dave? Dylan? - takes her upstairs to calm her down. Damian is nowhere to be found

In the end, Jason manages to be there when Replacement wakes up. Everyone is busy celebrating, too elated that Replacement is fine, so much they forget Jason is still lurking around. No one sees when his face goes pale and he feels like he’s going to puke.

“How did you know I was going to catch you?” Dick asks.

Tim gives him a tired smile. “You’re my brother, Dick. I knew you’d save me.”

Fuck.

Fuck. It’s like looking into a goddamn mirror, except Tim is so much better at this than Jason ever was. So much that he might even be fooling himself.

But he can’t fool Jason. Dick wants to believe in the best of them, he wants them all to be sane and safe and happy - as much as a Bat can be, at least - but Jason is more of a realist. He knows no one can plan that far ahead. He knows Tim went to a meeting with the Head of the Demon fully aware that he would most likely be carried out in a coffin. Considering Dick’s misstep from a couple months earlier and the fact that Tim had already assigned him and Damian a task, Batman was the last person Tim was expecting to show up.

Of course Dick would save him, any of them. Despite his issues with Bruce, Jason had his hero worship towards his brother restored pretty fast. Dick, the golden boy, the perfect son, loved him no matter what and Jason loved him back. Knew now that Dick had love enough to go around for all of them - all of them. But did Tim know that?

Tim finished his little mission, wrapped it all pretty with a bow, making sure no one kicked the bucket. Except for himself. Timothy Drake-Wayne was the contingency plan for Batman’s contingency plan, but he didn’t care enough to make a plan for himself.

Bruce is gone. Dick is painfully blind. The Drakes are dead. Alfred has his hands full. The Behemoths or the Little League, or whatever the hell the super kids call themselves now, were just that. Kids. Jason curses to himself, because, if no one else will watch out for Replacement, it’s none of his fucking business.

It’s not.

However…

Jason doesn’t know how to put his not-plan in action. He can’t exactly walk up to Tim and say hey, I think we’re not so different, you and I, so I’m worried for your safety. I know I tried to kill you, but that like... two years ago, get over it. Let’s be friends.

Before he figures it out, he hears that Bruce is back. The real Bruce.

He doesn’t know how to feel about it, so he decides to put some distance between him and the family one more time as he takes some weeks to process. He goes out of town to hang out with his friends. He is done with Gotham bullshit for a while.

Unfortunately, Jason finds himself facing his worst enemy: the damn encrypted data.

He hates that dealers now do their thing through the internet. Who the fuck buys marijuana online? Where is the poetry in that? The class of being friends with the sketchy guy that lives around the corner and hangs out with you while you smoke? If they’re gonna sell oregano online to rich white kids, fine, but they’re selling heavy stuff to people that live in his territory and there is a thing bigger than just drugs, if Jason’s hunch is right. He could confirm it by cracking the numbers he stole from their stupidly unguarded computers.

Except the encryption is too complicated for him to access the files.

Well, isn’t that the perfect excuse to take a visit to the kid’s apartment.

Because that is the situation right now. The kid is emancipated, controlling Wayne Enterprises and living by his damn self. There is so much to unpack that Jason wants to throw away the whole suitcase.

He should probably do just that, or at least that’s what he thinks when he climbs to Tim’s balcony (in his head, he hears Dick’s voice going what do you hate about front doors, man?) and he is immediately pushed to the ground.

He is wearing his helmet, sure, but it doesn’t make it less painful when someone fucking stomps on his head, forcing his face against the floor.

“Fuck,” is all Jason thinks of saying.

He then kicks his assailant in the shin and is satisfied when they tumble backwards. Unfortunately for him, they - she - doesn’t fall over the railing, she just stays away long enough to give him time to stand.

A bald girl wearing a distasteful crop top glares daggers at him. She is already back on her fighting stance - one that looks way too familiar for Jason’s taste - ready to strike. And strike she does.

Her movements are similar to Jason’s - fast, strong, unpredictable, unfair - but she has the advantage of being more slender and having more freedom of movement in the small space. All Jason can do is defend himself and not get tossed over the edge. Who the fuck is this girl? Why is she attacking him? Doesn’t she know he is the freaking Red Hood? He just wanted the damn-

“What on Earth are you guys doing on my balcony?”

The girl freezes. Jason does not. He lands a punch straight on her nose and she falls backwards, her mouth opening in pain even if no sound comes out.

“What the hell, Hood!”

Tim rushes to the girl’s side.

“What the hell Hood?” Jason parrots, indignant. “I just got here and she attacked me!”

Tim frowns and turns to the girl. “Is that true?”

Instead of answering, the girl holds her bloody nose and glares at him. She uses her free hand to show Tim four fingers. Tim sighs.

“I know it’s the fourth time you’ve had your nose broken,” Tim gives her a wry smile. “But the three other times you had it coming. And maybe even this time. Why did you attack Red Hood?”

She makes the gesture of someone walking with two fingers then points at Tim’s balcony door. Jason doesn’t know a lot of ASL, but those don’t seem to be the same signs Cassandra uses.

“She attacked me because she thought I was trying to break in?” He asks. “You have a bodyguard now?”

Tim stands and holds out his hand to the girl. She begrudgingly takes it and lets him pull her to her feet. “Why don’t we all go inside before someone notices the Red Hood on my balcony?”

Jason grumbles in annoyance but does make his way in. Tim is right behind him and Jason can’t help but think he’s acting as a shield in case the girl wants revenge for her nose.

“Come here, Pru, I’ll get something cold for your nose.”

Jason takes a look around. As they cross the living room, he notices it looks like a shiny rich person apartment you’d see in a magazine. Jason wasn’t sure what he expected of Tim’s new crib, and he knows the kid just moved in, but the fact that the place looks like a hospital’s reception makes him feel some sort of way.

Fortunately, the kitchen is a bit better. Not much, but it’s something. There are papers spread across the table, dirty glasses in the sink, a mug full of black steaming tea, Tim’s laptop open on top of a pile of books, and there are pictures on the fridge. Jason remembers vaguely Dick mentioning that one of the kids had a thing for photography and another liked drawing. He has to assume Tim is the photographer as he takes a good look at them: one of Brat girl’s grinning face with a big heart magnet, one of Tim and Cassandra sharing the same reading chair, one of Bruce in one of those fancy sweaters he used to wear at home, one of Dick and Cassandra doing handstands, one of a red head kid, behind him Tim, a muscular girl and an even more muscular guy. Jason doesn’t need to be a detective to figure those, even without the uniforms, are Impulse, Wonder Girl and Superboy.

“So,” Tim starts. He hands the girl a pack of frozen peas and shrugs at her dirty look. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Without ceremony, the girl takes a seat by the table and tries to steal a glance at Tim’s laptop. He casually closes it and smiles at her. She scoffs.

“First, you explain the bodyguard,” Jason says, gesturing to the girl.

“Right. Where are my manners? Pru, this is Red Hood. Hood, this is Prudence.”

He doesn’t turn to her so she can read his lips or use gestures to speak, so Jason figures she isn’t deaf, only mute. Maybe it’s something like Cassandra?

“Really? Prudence? That’s ironic. ”

She shows Jason her middle finger. Definitely not deaf then.

Unlike Prudence, Jason doesn’t make himself at home. When he crosses his arms and doesn’t say anything for a minute more, Tim reads his silence correctly and adds, “We’re working together for a while and there are a lot of people that want us dead, so you’ll have to forgive her. She saw a suspicious guy trying to get into my place and she assumed the worst.”

Jason quirks an eyebrow. Tim can’t see his expression behind the helmet, but he sighs nonetheless.

“Come on. She couldn’t know I sometimes work with the Red Hood too.”

I sometimes work with. Ouch. Jason supposes that’s fair, though. Tim hasn’t exactly been informed of Jason’s newfound empathy or his protective streak.

“How did you know where I live, by the way?” Tim asks.

“Alfred told me you moved,” Jason says. “I got your address from Cassandra.”

Tim’s brows disappear under his messy fringe. “Really?”

Jason nods. “Took a lot of convincing before she believed I didn’t want to kill you in your sleep.”

At that, Tim snorts. He’s still grinning when he asks, “What did you want it for then?”

“Tech support,” he says as he fishes a small flash drive from his pocket. “I was hoping you could crack some files for me.”

Tim takes it and nods. “I’ll check it out. I’ll send the results to you as soon as I have them. Anything else?”

Again… ouch. Apparently imprudent girl is welcome to kick back and hang out, but Jason is just a fellow associate that came to hand in an assignment and promptly piss off.

Then Jason realizes that that was exactly what their relationship was like before Tim went around the world to fight Ra’s al Ghul. Damn.

Well. It’s not like he can take off his helmet and stick around when there is a stranger in there, especially when Tim carefully introduced him as the Red Hood instead of good ol’ Jason Todd. He just wanted to check on the kid and he did. No need to get all clingy. That’s Dick’s thing, not his.

It isn’t until much later that Jason realizes how pointless the visit was. He wanted to see if the kid was okay. He suspected he wasn’t, but it wasn’t like he had any idea of what to do about it.

Lucky for him, Tim looked a lot better than last time. Less dead eyed, more like he has some sort of purpose. The fact that Dick is included in his little photo collection must mean they made amends. Whether it was because Jason’s whooping Dick’s ass or in spite of it he’ll never know. Based on what he knows about Tim, the kid might have just worked everything out by himself and forgiven Dick on his own terms.

Despite his decision to take care of Tim from then on, Jason is definitely not great at it. He doesn't think he lost the rights to admonish Dick for not talking to his brother. The fact is Jason isn't great with words. He wants to help Tim through actions.

Still the question remains: how?

(And Tim emails him the files he needed 8 hours later and Jason worries that the kid didn’t sleep, which… great. This is just great.)

Less than two nights later, someone gets into Jason's frequency. He's about to head out for patrol when a creaking sound inside his helmet precedes a familiar voice slightly twisted by static.

"Red Hood, this is Red Robin. Do you copy?"

Right. He goes by Red Robin now.

"What you want, rep… kid?" Jason inwardly winces at his misstep.

There is a moment of confused silence before Tim mercifully decides not to ask what that was. "I'm pursuing a lead in your territory."

Jason hums. "What's it? I'll handle it."

"No!" Tim says too fast. "I mean… it's my case. I just thought you could take the night off? Please?"

This is supposed to be the smart Robin, right? He does know that Jason isn’t a complete moron, right?

“What’s in it for me?” Jason asks.

If this was Damian, he’d get a colorful death threat. If this was Dick, a winded speech on how brothers are supposed to have each other’s backs and he's just asking for a tiny favor, Jason, don’t make me make my ex-girlfriend hack into your phone and block Netflix again. Tim, however, knows that everything has a price and has an answer ready.

“You owe me for those files I decoded for you.”

Straight to the point. No bullshit. Jason is starting to really like this kid.

“Fair enough. You go follow your lead and I won’t murder you for being in my territory.”

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Hood.”

Jason didn’t say anything about taking the night off, though.

Jason knows that, if he was working alone, Tim wouldn’t ask for permission. He would let himself in and out of Jason's territory assuming Jason wouldn’t even notice - he’d done it before as Robin, and Jason did notice but pretended not to. He can’t track Red Robin as easily, but the fact that he doesn’t want Red Hood around means there is something or someone he can’t control tagging along… and who’s the one person even Tim Drake can never control?

“Brat girl,” Jason mutters to himself, a cocky grin spreading on his face. One of his informants just confirmed he saw Batgirl driving whatever the fuck that is that capsule vehicle into an empty building just south of Jason’s place.

Oracle is probably out of town again, otherwise she wouldn’t allow her precious not-daughter to be messing around with Tim in Jason’s territory. But then, if most of the rumors are correct, even Barbara can’t quite control the new Batgirl.

He wonders what the duo are up to as he lets himself into the abandoned place through a hole in the ceiling. Red Hood walks on the rafters in the dark until he can hear familiar voices. He stops on his tracks when he notices that Red Robin and Batgirl aren’t alone. Wonder Girl and Impulse stick out like bright red sore thumbs against Gotham’s darkness.

Red Hood hears enough to know they’re planning on saving someone - one of Impulse’s friends? - from a local group connected to Black Mask. Their plan is solid, but it’s hardly a task herculean enough to warrant the presence of a speedster and an amazon. Red Robin makes it sound like it’s absolutely necessary nonetheless, assigning each of them a role that fits their powers and going over every little detail. It’s the first time Hood sees the kid in a position of leadership and he thinks it suits him. He seems extremely at ease.

Actually… that’s not quite it. He’s not as wary of the world as he is when he’s with the Batfamily. Not Batman’s perfect mini-detective, not Nightwing’s model little brother, not WE CEO. He’s still very much a hero, a Robin, but it’s possible to see he’s seventeen under the cowl. Even his posture changes, his shoulders relax and he allows himself to be… God, himself. That must be the first time Jason sees Tim completely in his element, no tension, no (metaphorical) masks.

Real Red Robin stays close to his friends. Very close. Hell, Impulse is almost sitting on his lap, his arm firmly wrapped around Red Robin’s waist as he points at some sort of map his wrist pad is showing. Batgirl is clinging to his other side, her chin resting on his shoulder using the excuse to see better what he’s showing. Hadn’t those two broken up?

Then Red Robin says something so softly not even Hood picks up. The other three teens get tense. Impulse nods and disappears in a gust of wind as his friends wait in silence.

Half a second later, something hits Hood’s back at a very alarming speed because of course Red Robin noticed someone listening and sent his speedster friend to get him. He curses while he falls, barely managing to roll fast enough to avoid serious knee damage when he lands.

“Jason!” Red Robin whines not unlike an embarrassed child crying out mom, not in front of my friends!

“Maybe check who’s spying on you before sending a child bullet careening into their back, will ya?” Jason complains.

Wonder Girl frowns. “Is that…”

“The Red Hood,” Batgirl confirms in a flat voice. “Yup.”

“Isn’t he a criminal?” Impulse asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.

A facepalming Red Robin groans. “He doesn’t do crime anymore.” Under Batgirl’s skeptical glare, he corrects, “He doesn’t do bad crimes anymore. What are you doing here, Hood? You said you were taking the night off!”

“I said I wouldn’t shoot you for being in my territory,” Hood corrects. “But I didn’t say anything about your super friends, because I didn’t think you’d be breaking so many rules in so little time. Really? Bringing metas to Gotham?”

Red Robin simply shrugs. “What Batman can’t see doesn’t hurt him.”

Batgirl snickers and Hood grins a little under his helmet.

“Little Timmy,” he gasps, resting his hand on his chest in mock shock.

“Shut up, why are you here?”

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up.”

The other three kids look from Red Hood to Red Robin. It’s obvious that whatever Tim’s verdict is, they’re going to accept it. Even Stephanie. And she knows Jason (sort of).

“Fine,” Red Robin groans. “But no shooting anyone.”

“No promises.”

Wonder Girl and Impulse are obviously wondering whether they’re joking or not. Knowing they’re completely serious, Batgirl makes a face and pokes Red Robin’s cheek. He frowns at her and the two of them seem to have a conversation consisting of weird mouths and head shakes for a moment. Jason would know. He and Dick used to do that all the time. Finally, whatever face Red Robin is making convinces her and she lets out a defeated sigh.

“Well then, ladies,” Batgirl deadpans, “let’s get this bread.”

Despite Dick’s best efforts, Jason never quite fit in with the Titans. With Tim and Stephanie, however, he can work.

Breaking into one of Black Mask’s hideouts is a piece of cake, if not outright fun. He has to hand it to Stephanie. She is not as cunning as Barbara or as deadly as Cassandra, but the girl can blow up a marijuana deposit like no one else.

Sure, the smoke makes them at least 30% high—all of them except Impulse, whose metabolism won’t let him get intoxicated, to which… Just R.I.P. you funky little man, Jason really feels for him.

Even with the little diversion, there were still plenty of crooks to fight. Wonder Girl takes care of most of them on her own— amazons, man —and soon enough Impulse comes running, carrying a dark-skinned boy wearing power-dampening cuffs who keeps yelling at them in Spanish. At that, Red Robin announces they’re retreating.

Tim looks a lot more comfortable with his peers than he is with the Bats. Part of Jason wonders if he could’ve been like that. If he would have ended up differently if he had actually stayed with the Titans and made friends like Tim had. He tells himself not to go down that path, because he is who he is, he certainly doesn’t make friends in that teen sitcom way and you can’t change the past.

He is genuinely glad that Tim has those friends, though. He’s glad that he can feel that way despite the hint of jealousy.

As they leave a ruined hideout behind, Wonder Girl and Impulse are drowning Red Robin in hugs and cheering so loud one would forget they’re still in Gotham. Their friend laughs with them even with the stress of being so rambunctiously rescued. Batgirl slaps her arm around Hood’s shoulder and admires the Titans being loud as if congratulating themselves on the job done.

If all of them— all of them—are still smiling themselves silly as they leave, it’s only 50% because of the marijuana.

Jason quickly learns that Tim doesn’t like owing people. When Jason asked Tim to crack some encrypted documents, he just needed the damn files. He didn’t expect the kid to show up to tear down the place when Jason decided he had enough reason to dismantle the operation.

“What, you can’t tell me there is a case and expect me not to follow up,” Red Robin quips as he nudges a goon with his foot. The man groans, but doesn’t get up. Seemingly satisfied, Red Robin crouches down and starts cuffing the man to another by his side.

“Remind me to never ask for your help again,” Red Hood says.

Red Robin glowers. “I saved your ass from getting stabbed about three times.”

“I shot the kneecaps of four guys trying to murder you, so don’t expect me to thank you.”

They hear sirens. Red Robin stands. “Well, guess our job here is done.”

Hood nods. It’s been a while since he fought side by side with a fellow Bat, just him and another Robin and... it was nice. Roy and Kori are great partners and all, but they don’t have the same training a Robin does. They don’t get the specific maneuvers and the subtle secret signs. The fact that it had been so fun fighting side by side with Red Robin makes Jason feel like his not-plan of taking care of the kid was finally going somewhere.

Then Red Robin stretches his arm to grapple his way out of there and gasps.

“Red?”

“Uh…” He is now pressing his hand to his side.

“Is… is that blood?”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you get stabbed and didn’t notice, you freaking idiot?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groans, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes over the cowl. “Why me?”

Red Hood sighs. “Relax, kid, it doesn’t look that deep.”

“I’m gonna have to call Batman,” Red Robin whines. “A’s gonna kill me.”

“Over a tiny stab wound? Don’t be a pussy, I’m sure you can stitch that yourself.”

“The stitches aren’t the problem, it’s just the medicine…” Red Robin says, making vague hand gestures. “I have no spleen.”

And then there’s that.

“I’m sorry. You what?”

Red Robin pulls a guilty face visible even under the cowl. Jason wouldn’t blame Alfred for killing him. He has no spleen and he just… decided it was a good idea to bring a staff to a gunfight at one of the grimiest places of Gotham.

Tim Drake-Wayne, everyone, smartest Robin to date.

Jason, however, decides not to kill Tim for his stupidity. He recognizes that particular frown. It’s the I-messed-up-and-I-don’t-want-dad-to-find-out face.

The GCPD sirens are getting closer.

“I’ve got a big collection of antibiotics back at one of my safehouses,” he mentions casually. “I could patch you up so A doesn’t have to.”

Tim’s wide eyes are evident. Jason wonders if this is him being able to read the kid too well or if Tim straight up sucks at hiding his emotions. It’s probably a bit of both.

“You know. As thanks for helping me.”

“I thought you wouldn’t thank me.”

“Don’t push it, kid.”

By now, they can see the red and blue police lights.

“Lead the way.”

He rolls his eyes and drags the kid to his bike. He really hopes the pigs didn’t see them, because it’s bad enough that a hero showed up to Red Hood’s bust, he doesn’t need any cops thinking that he kidnapped Red Robin or any shit like that.

“Are we going to the one behind the new theater or the one around crime alley?” Tim casually asks.

Jason freezes halfway through mounting his bike. “How the fuck do you know about those?”

“I know the location of all of your safehouses,” Tim admits.

“Batman knows about my safehouses?”

Tim quirks an eyebrow. “Last time I checked, I’m not Batman.”

...oh.

That’s… nice. Kind of. A confirmation that he can trust the kid to have his back.

“Smug nerd,” Jason mumbles.

Tim only chuckles in response. They set off to Jason’s place.

The rest of the night is peaceful. At least for a Bat’s standards. Jason helps Tim disinfect his wound and stitch it closed while Tim raids Jason’s medicine stash until he finds the ones he needs. Jason promises to hook him up with his supplier so he doesn’t have to rely so much on the cave. By the time they’re done, Tim’s lips are permanently curled upwards.

When he starts shuffling awkwardly as if looking for a way to say goodbye, Jason nonchalantly announces where he can find clean towels and clothes, as if this is a thing they do everyday. Tim seems baffled, but thankfully he doesn’t call Jason’s bullshit and obediently heads to the bathroom. By the time he’s done, Jason is fixing a meal for the two of them and some stupid movie is on TV—never the news, god, Jason hates watching the news.

Like a skittish stray, Tim is unsure of what to do with himself at first, but he catches the cue fast enough. He sits on the couch all stiff and restless until something on the screen grabs his attention.

“You like Wendy the Werewolf Stalker?” Tim asks, eyes wide.

“Do I like fucking what?”

Jason just needed the background noise to avoid freaking out about how weird he’s being right now. Apparently, that was the wrong answer. Tim launches a rant on how amazing Wendy is and half of it goes over Jason’s head. He just gets that apparently Tim and Superboy both have a crush on this werewolf hunting chick and they used to spend hours watching her instead of doing actual work at Titans Tower.

He also manages to actually eat the food Jason made, which is a win in Jason’s book.

It’s a nice night, overall.

It becomes, not a habit, but a thing. Tim sometimes shows up to one of Jason’s safehouses needing a stitch job or medicine. Jason doesn’t know how he nails which one Jason is at currently or if he just goes to every single one still bleeding until he finds Jason. Or even if he just lets himself in and takes care of his wounds without any help. If so, Jason wouldn’t blame him. He’d choose his crappy hideouts over Tim’s soulless apartment any day.

On the third time it happens, Tim isn’t hurt at all. He just wants to bitch about Vicki Vale stalking him and his supposed ex-fiancée that he's actually trying to date. Jason feeds him real food, as usual, and listens to what he has to say, as unusual. They end up on the couch watching A Nightmare on Elm Street, which, oddly enough, has Tim getting overly enthusiastic about going to bed because he’s curious about the magic behind Freddy Krueger. Jason tells him to let him know if any dream demons show up when he leaves Tim dozing off on the couch.

Tim starts texting Jason. At first, it’s all very professional. Messages like 1 of the stupid crooks in your territory almost killed robin yesterday do smth abt it followed by I don’t care that he’s a demon in a kevlar vest Hood you didn’t have to deal with nightwing crying afterwards!!! Then they slowly shift into something more casual on the lines of is dis u? An d attached a picture of Elizabeth Bennet wearing the red Power Ranger helmet which… What sort of context led to that meme being created?

Jason pretends not to care, but he preens with pride when Tim laughs at his dark jokes. Stupid gallows humor that would have made Bruce call an expensive therapist and Dick squirm in discomfort have the kid snorting coffee out of his nose.

It’s like they’re friends.

Part of him sometimes toys with the idea of them being normal kids —or as normal as you can be in Gotham—and he realizes that he would’ve made friends with Tim so fucking fast. Dick is the golden child and all of them would end up worshiping him and respecting him as their older brother, of course. Tim would be added to their family and Jason, not-murdered, regular problem-child Jason, would resist him at first, but he would soon see that he wasn't just an annoying nerd. He was a fun, annoying nerd. They would gang up on Dick, as younger brothers ought to do, and Jason would protect Tim from bullies and Tim would use his good son credit to get Jason out of trouble with Bruce.

This, however, may be as good as it gets for people with their fucked up upbringing. Jason already knew Tim wasn’t your regular spoiled rich boy and they bond over having shit childhoods even if they don’t talk about it.

All in all it feels nice to be looked up to. To have the kid come to him when he’s in trouble. To have someone looking at him with a shine in his eyes like the one Jason has when he looks at Dick. It makes Jason feel like he’s worth something. He sees Tim get comfortable with him after weeks of acting like a stray cat and he knows the kid feels the same. It’s a new feeling for both of them.

It’s like they’re really brothers.

Being part of the Red Robin fan club, Jason finds out, gives him good credit with the Bats.

Bruce and Dick are always going to be concerned about Jason’s slightly loose moral compass. Gremlin is always going to hate him because he’s a Gremlin. Barbara tolerates him at best.

Stephanie, however, shows up unannounced to one of Red Hood’s busts and laughs it off when he complains about Batgirl ruining his rep. She then invites Jason to watch a movie with her since they finished early. He thinks that’d be very weird, so he refuses. Unbothered, she says an airy “Maybe next time” before leaving.

He thinks a shadow once told him to come by the manor more often, almost giving him a heart attack. He thought Cassandra was in Hong Kong, for fuck’s sake; when did she come back?

One time he texts Tim for tech support and no one but the Signal shows up at Jason’s doorstep with a codebreaker and a list of instructions from Red Robin. Duke doesn’t look as wary of Jason as he once was and the two quickly fall into friendly banter, complaining about Tim’s nerdiness.

Jason knows if he asked Steph about it, he would never hear the end of it. Cass isn’t the easiest person to hold a conversation with. He guesses Duke is decent enough not to dwell on it, so he asks,

“Why are y’all suddenly okay with me?”

Duke quirks an eyebrow at him. Fortunately, he’s smart enough that Jason doesn’t need to explain further. “Tim trusts you,” he says simply. “Tim is the holder of the one brain cell of this family, so long we follow his cues, we’re golden.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that.

“Why, you don’t want us around?”

He mumbles something about it not being a big deal. Duke shrugs it off and changes the subject. Jason knows he’s doing it for his sake, because Duke might be the kindest person in their whole messed up family. Jason feels bad for refusing to learn his name for so long.

So it seems like two-thirds of the Batgirls and Signal were always less worried about Jason’s past than they were about his rivalry with Robin III.

And, fine, Jason does get a little jealous of that but he’s mature-ish enough to take what he can get. Plus Stephanie is funny as shit and it’s always fun to annoy Barbara by getting Batgirl involved in his fights, especially when Red Robin is around to back him up.

Everything is sort of nice now.

Sometimes, however, Jason wakes up in a cold sweat with the taste of copper in his mouth and a nightmare gunshot still ringing in his ears. He tried to kill Tim. He could’ve killed his little brother. He’s thankful for the times the nightmares come when Tim is sleeping over, because he can walk to the living room and check on the kid. Remind himself that Tim is alive and breathing under the old blankets and that he’s forgiven Jason. When he isn’t around, Jason is absolutely not above calling him in the middle of the night, making up a stupid case he needs Tim’s help with. For all his smarts, Tim never seems to realize Jason’s true motives.

Now that he thinks about it, he notices that Tim is on good terms with a lot of people that tried to kill him. Jason. Damian. That Prudence girl. He doesn’t find out the details, but he does hear something about Stephanie fucking him up and she’s now his best friend. Jason is more than a little concerned about that forgiving side of his.

Red Hood hates a lot of things. If he were to make a list, it’d take days to write it all down. He knows for sure that on the top of that list would be clowns. There is nothing he hates more than clowns.

Scarecrows are a close second, though.

Definitely close to a tie as he watches Red Robin stumble. “I think…” he mutters. “I think my rebreather is broken.”

“ Shit.”

Red Hood has to think fast. Fear gas is every-fucking-where and he lost sight of Scarecrow three canon-fodder crooks ago. He doesn’t have an extra rebreather, because he’s wearing his helmet and that does the job. He’s used to fighting alone. Not that having another rebreather would do them any good now that Red Robin has already breathed the nasty toxins.

In the end, Hood decides to take the defeat for what it is: a defeat. He throws a smoke bomb on the ground and grabs Red Robin by the waist, ignoring the startled squeak the boy lets out. They need to get out before Scarecrow’s goons realize what they’re doing.

“Stay with me,” Red Hood hisses. “Whatever you’re hearing or seeing, it’s not real.”

They’re five minutes away from his nearest safehouse. It’d be faster to take one of their bikes, but he can’t risk it in case Tim starts hallucinating halfway there. They can make it there swinging, he can keep his brother out of danger.

“I’m fine,” Red Robin says. The way he’s limp in Hood’s hold, says otherwise. “We’re going home. We’re safe.”

“We’re going home. Close your eyes. Focus on my voice.”

He does it.

“It’s just us now,” Hood reassures him. “We’re on the way to a safehouse where no one can find us and you can rest until the toxin is out of your system. Safe, easy.”

“Steph is fine, Bart is fine, Cassie is fine,” he chants, “Cass is fine, Alfred is fine, Dick is fine, Tam is fine, Pru is fine.”

He keeps listing people that are fine, because of course his fears are all about his friends being hurt. Surprisingly, Hood recognizes all of them. He’s heard Tim talking about all of them repeatedly and he knows their names and personalities, even if he doesn’t have all the faces to match. He isn’t surprised that his friends come first then their family.

“That’s right, kiddo,” Jason encourages. “Who else?”

“Dad..” Tim’s eyes shoot open. “Dad’s gonna kill me. Dad, Dad will know I’m Robin, he’s- He’s gonna take Robin away from me, I can’t- This is the first time I’m being useful.”

Fuck.

“Your dad isn’t here. And you’re not Robin, kid, you’re Red Robin,” Jason reminds him.

“That’s… that’s right. I failed him. I failed Dick, so…”

Double fuck.

“That’s bullshit,” Jason says, but it’s hard to keep the conversation going while he’s carrying Tim’s weight.

They’re two minutes away from safety before Tim starts struggling to get away from Jason. He doesn’t say anything else, which may be more concerning, he just grunts with the effort and squirms. Jason really hopes no one was paying attention enough to notice what looks like Red Hood kidnapping a terrified Red Robin.

“Shit- Stay put, Red, we’re almost home,” Jason says.

Tim’s breath catches and returns, erratic, and Jason can’t bear to look at his horrified face, he hates to see the utter fear that has his brother’s already pale complexion turn ashen, his lips pressed into a line so tight it has got to hurt. Jason starts listing the names of the people that are supposedly fine and that catches Tim’s attention long enough that Jason can swing straight to the fire escape of the abandoned building where he set his hideout.

He sets Tim on the dusty mattress on the corner in a hurry and tosses his helmet aside. He starts undoing Tim’s safety measures so he can remove his cowl. Unlike Jason, he doesn’t wear a domino mask beneath it and Jason makes a mental note of talking to Tim about that later.

“Almost there, Timbers,” Jason says. He rips off his own domino without caring about the sting, hoping a familiar face will help. “I’m here. Now, where do you keep your fear gas antidote? I know you carry some around.”

Tim unconsciously reaches for a particular capsule on his bandolier. That’s enough of an answer for Jason, who pushes his hand away not as gently as he should and reaches for the small vial inside.

“Jay,” Tim whines. “Jay, you’re okay, right?”

Jason blinks, confused. “Of course I’m okay, Timbers. I’m right here.”

And as he rushes to grab the first aid kit under the sink, Jason starts to freak out. This gas isn’t causing hallucinations as much as it’s making Tim feel paranoid, it seems. What if it’s a new formula? What if the antidote doesn’t work? What if Tim keeps having anxious thought after anxious thought, until his heart gives in and-

“Jay!” Tim calls, desperate. “Jay, we have to get Kon! He’s- He’s in danger.” He starts getting up.

“Nope!” Jason pushes him right back into the mattress. “Kon is fine, he’s invulnerable, remember? He’s probably doing superdouche stuff in Metropolis.”

“He’s not, he’s- He’s gonna kill himself, Jay!” There are tears welling up in his eyes and Jason feels like someone just punched him in the gut. After all the shit they went through, he had never seen Tim cry. “He’s gonna sacrifice himself to save everyone, I can’t lose him, please, I’ll do it instead. He’s- No! Please, don’t do it!”

There we go. There are the hallucinations they all know and hate. Tim stretches out his hand as if he’s reaching for an invisible Superboy, so Jason takes the opportunity to start rolling up his sleeve and cleaning the inside of his elbow. Lucky for him, he always has a sanitized syringe. Now he just needs Tim to stay still.

What if it doesn’t work? What if I make it worse?

“Kon El, no,” Tim gasps. “KON EL! CONNER!”

Jason had never seen Impulse going full speed. But he did meet Barry Allen back when he was Robin and he never forgot the deafening noise of someone breaking the barrier of sound. More familiar is the noise of his freaking wall exploding. Before Jason realizes, he’s being ripped away from his screaming brother. He hacks and struggles, but there isn’t a lot he can do when a kryptonian steel arm presses against his throat, effectively pinning him to the wall.

“Give me one reason not to kill you,” Superboy growls, his eyes already glowing red.

Jason would be impressed with the boy’s ability to look murderous if he wasn’t about to have his head melted. He struggles a little more. Superboy doesn’t even seem to notice. Jason then pathetically raises the syringe in his hand and manages to choke out:

“A-antidote.”

Superboy blinks once. His eyes return to the regular shade of blue. He blinks twice. His expression shows only confusion when he releases Jason, that promptly falls on his knees. Jason coughs, touching his throat as if to make sure it’s still intact. Damn clone.

“What happened to him?” Superboy demands.

Tim isn’t trying to get up anymore, but rather convulsing on the same spot, screaming wordlessly in horror, tears streaming freely down his pale cheeks.

Jason coughs some more before he’s able to say something. “A-ask that first next time, will you? It’s… it’s fear gas.”

“And, what, am I supposed to believe you were helping him?” Superboy snarls.

Jason groans. He doesn’t have time for this. Tim has his eyes firmly shut and every scream, every time his voice breaks, it feels like someone is slashing at Jason’s chest, robbing him of air almost as effectively as Superboy did.

“I was about to do that before you interrupted,” Jason shows him the syringe again. “What do you think?”

Superboy squints at him, unhappy with his response.

“We don’t have time for that,” Jason snarls. “At this point, he’s gonna have a heart attack. I need you to hold him still.”

Superboy bites his lip in hesitation but Tim screams his name again and he winces as if the sound is kryptonite for his ears. Finally, he nods and crouches down by the mattress.

“It’s okay, Rob,” he says. “I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

At that, Tim miraculously relaxes for a second. Jason kneels by his side again and holds the outstretched arm Superboy is keeping still.

“Don’t hurt him,” Jason warns. Judging by the look Superboy gives him, the only reason he’s not getting the laser eye treatment is because he’s the only one around capable of helping Tim.

“No,” Tim whines. “Not Jason…”

Jason freezes. Superboy’s eyes start to glow again.

“Not Jason, not again,” Tim continues, delirious, his expression twisting in pain. “Please, please, don’t, help him, HELP HIM!”

Jason stabs the needle into his pale skin and it’s a miracle that he does it right, because he is shaking. Fuck this. Fuck Scarecrow. It’s wrong, it’s horrible to hear Red Robin begging like that. He hates the way the kid startles with the needle. He’s thankful that Superboy makes sure Tim stays put, because he doesn’t think his trembling hands could do that now.

“It’s okay, Timbers,” Jason hears himself saying, “it’s over now.”

“Please,” Tim sobs again, “I- I’m gonna solve this.”

God. Jason grabs his hand. “You did enough, baby bird. You solved enough already.”

Tim whimpers, but finally starts relaxing. It seems like the antidote is working its magic and the boy falls right asleep.

Superboy refuses to leave, much to Jason’s chagrin. It doesn’t surprise him, though. Conner is Tim’s favorite conversation subject when he’s in a good mood and apparently the clone is ready to just fly to Gotham if he hears Tim’s voice.

“You know, metas aren’t allowed here,” Jason reminds him.

Superboy has been stomping back and forth around Tim’s mattress. He's so angry that Jason is worried he’ll break the floor any minute now, but he stops to give Jason the biggest, meanest glower of the night. He doesn’t look anything like the mental picture Tim painted of him. Even with his ripped skinny jeans and 90’s leather jacket and dumb earrings, Superboy looks absolutely murderous.

“I’m not going anywhere until I see that Tim’s fine,” he says.

Jason sighs.

“Why are we here?” Superboy snaps. “Why didn’t you call Alfred or… or Batman or…”

“Because we don’t do that,” Jason cuts him. “Red Robin is not Batman's sidekick. If we can solve shit without involving Batman, we don’t involve Batman.”

It’s their unspoken rule, Jason knows that since the first time they fought side by side - the first time they had a sleepover - and he brought Tim home to patch him up. They don’t call dad or their older bro if they’re in trouble, because that’ll lead to them being in more trouble. They simply watch out for each other as much as they can.

Superboy isn’t happy with that explanation, but, before he can murder Jason for real, Tim stirs.

Jason and Superboy are kneeling by his side at the same time, which says something, since Jason doesn't have superspeed.

“Timbers?” Jason calls.

“Jay…?” Tim mumbles and his voice is still a little raw from all the screaming. He blinks and his eyes set on his best friend. “Conner? What are you doing here?”

“You called,” Superboy says simply. “I told you all you had to do was call my name.”

“How’s the head?” Jason asks. “You're still smart, right? You can’t afford to lose your brain cells, Timbers, with your ugly face they’re all you have.”

Tim snorts. Then groans. “Fuck off, Jason, don’t make me laugh.”

Jason smiles at him and he doesn’t notice the weird look Superboy is giving them.

“Rob? Do you remember what happened?”

Tim starts to sit up and Superboy is faster than Jason in wrapping an arm around his shoulders to steady him. He helps Tim rest his back against the wall and the grateful look Tim gives him makes Jason frown a bit because he feels there is something there he’s missing.

“Hmmm… We were fighting Scarecrow,” Tim says. “Fear gas, broken rebreather...” He looks at Jason as if seeking for confirmation. When Jason nods, he continues, “Jay got me out of there and the rest is… Wait. Where is Scarecrow? Did he escape?”

“That should be the last of your worries, Timothy, you almost died of fear,” Superboy scolds.

Tim sighs. “Oh, to be a young vigilante in the XXI century… passing away of fright.”

Superboy doesn’t get it, judging by his expression, but Jason does and he laughs out loud. He doesn’t miss the way Tim’s lip quirk up.

“See, baby bird, this is why I wear a helmet and so should you,” Jason says.

“Okay, but have you considered that we’d look stupid if we were all the man in the iron mask?”

Jason raises an eyebrow. “God forbid a whole family fighting criminals in leather fursuits look stupid. We wouldn’t fucking want that.”

Tim laughs, even if his voice is still a little hoarse, and Jason is relieved.

He is so relieved to see his brother fine that he doesn’t pay attention to the fact that Superboy still has his arm around Tim’s shoulders. That Superboy’s eyes get all soft when Tim laughs. That Superboy looks a little hurt when he offers to fly Tim home, but Tim refuses, saying that he’d rather spend the rest of the night here.

“I mean, if that’s fine…?” He glances at Jason, reminding him of those first sleepovers, when he was still unsure whether he’d be welcome or not.

Jason is so done feeling or letting his brother feel like an outsider. “The mattress is big enough for both of us, I don’t see why you’d go back to your own apartment when you can just sleep on a perfectly good mattress on the floor.”

“Hm. Cool then,” Superboy says, but instead of flying out through the giant hole he made on the wall, he shifts his weight from one foot to another awkwardly, clearly stalling.

Both brothers notice it. Neither has a problem interpreting Superboy’s fidgeting. Jason finds it annoying, but Tim gives him a pleading look. Jason sighs.

“You can stay too, big guy, but you gonna have to sleep on the floor.”

Superboy’s face lights up and he definitely doesn’t look like he wanted to melt Jason’s head just a couple of minutes ago. He rambles that it’s all good, he just needs to text Ma Kent to let her know where he is and he’s used to sleeping on the floor of the barn with Krypto and the cows (Jason would find that more upsetting if he didn’t know there is a cow somewhere in the Wayne manor too and Damian sleeps in the cave with it all the time).

In the end, Tim bullies Jason into giving Superboy the thickest blanket he has around. He tries suggesting he should sleep in the blanket and let Jason and Superboy share the mattress, but shuts up mid sentence under their glares.

It’s probably the most awkward sleepover so far, but Tim grins at Jason, grateful, and turns his back to him to be able to talk to Superboy in hushed whispers.

Jason tunes out their conversation and focuses on the fact that he did it. He saved Tim. It doesn’t make up for the times he fucked up in the past, but it sure makes him feel better about the present. He’s also thankful that Tim stayed instead of going to his own place. Hearing your little brother scream in fear for your life isn’t something enjoyable and Jason is sure he would have nightmares about if it wasn’t for the fact that Tim was laying right there in front of him. It’s the sound of his brother’s muffled laughter, mixed with Superboy’s, that lulls him to sleep.

Jason should have noticed then. But he didn’t.

For an intelligent guy, Jason can be really stupid sometimes.

The thing is… Jason is smart. He’s not Tim Drake smart, but he’s still a good detective. He’s also fairly sociable. Or at least he used to be, before he, you know, died and went through all the trauma, etc. He is no Dick Grayson, but he can hold a good conversation, pick up the right social cues, all that crap.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t mess up sometimes.

You see, months go by. Red Hood and Red Robin don’t often go on the field together, after all it’d do a number to both of their reputations, but, when they do, one of them always ends up injured and the other carries him home. It’s like a curse, the universe telling them to stick to their off-patrol partnership. Then a couple of weeks go by and they miss the feeling of fighting side-by-side and there they go again.

Tim keeps showing up at Jason’s place whenever he feels like it and he even hangs around Jason’s visiting friends sometimes. Kori adores Tim from the first time she puts her eyes on him. Roy takes a little longer to warm up, but even he can’t resist the kid. Jason likes it. He likes having his brother around. He likes that they get on like a house on fire.

So much he forgets Tim is a master of hiding shit.

On the week nearing Tim’s 19th birthday, Jason goes to his apartment. He doesn’t realize until he’s halfway there that he hadn’t been to Tim’s place since the night he met Prudence, which is odd, because it’d been basically a year and a half. Still, Tim goes over to Jason’s place all the time. The fact that Jason doesn’t repay the favor has everything to do with the fact that Jason hates Tim’s magazine apartment and nothing else.

Right?

Instead of going for the door, Jason uses his signature move and just swings to the balcony. The door is unlocked - Jason really has to have a talk with Tim about security, they’re in Gotham, for fuck’s sake - and he lets himself in.

To Tim’s credit, the place looks more well lived in now. There are mismatched pillows on the couch, a forgotten mug and a couple of books on the coffee table. Jason recognizes his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo and makes an annoyed sound noticing Tim’s bookmarker is still somewhere in the middle of the book even if it’s been weeks since Jason let him borrow it.

“Tim?” Jason calls. It’s half past nine, a little early for vigilante standards, but…

He hears the sound of someone sputtering and coughing from the kitchen. There he is.

Jason heads there and finds Tim desperately grabbing paper towels to clean coffee he apparently just spilled on his bare chest.

“J-Jason!”

“Jumpy aren’t we?” Jason comments. “What’s up, baby bird?”

It’s clear that Tim had just woken up, judging by his messy hair and the fact that he’s wearing nothing but red sweatpants with Superman’s symbol all over. His mildly terrified expression is weird, though. Tim is usually slow in the morning, but not that easy to startle.

“What are you doing here?” Tim whispers, clearly panicking.

The fact that Jason never visits Tim’s place suddenly comes to his mind. The possibility of him not being welcome hits him and it’s surprisingly painful. He thought they were doing well, that the kid liked him. All this time, was he being arrogant?

As his brain scrambles for something to say, something to think, he notices a sound that he hadn’t registered before: the shower.

Suddenly Tim’s rapidly reddening cheeks and doe wide eyes gain a new meaning. Jason forgets the hurt and a sly smile stretches on his face.

“Oh my god. Oh god, this is priceless. Baby bird, do you have a lady guest from last night?”

Tim makes a weird choking sound and this is too good, Jason is too delighted, look at little Timmy go, already getting it. (Jason would’ve chosen different pants for the morning after, but alas.)

Then a voice calls out: “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

A male voice.

Tim’s face becomes three shades darker, now perfectly matching his pants. Jason’s grin is now frozen on his face, his eyes wide with the realization.

The shower stops.

“Tim?” The voice calls again.

“I’m fine, Kon!” Tim responds and his voice is surprisingly even, considering he looks like he’s having an aneurysm.

That’s a bat for you. Master of hiding their emotions.

Sort of.

Kon, Tim said. Jason realizes that Tim isn’t wearing Superman merch. The sweatpants are Superboy themed.

Jason still remembers Superboy’s protective streak all those months ago and the fact that he woke up to the two of them holding hands - at the time, he thought nothing of it, because it had been a stressful night and he didn’t blame either boy for wanting to make sure the other was okay - and he thinks of all the subsequent times Tim went on and on about Conner and how a couple of weeks ago Tim just stopped mentioning Conner altogether.

God, Jason is the worst detective ever.

Tim pushes Jason out of the kitchen and towards the living room, presumably farther from the bathroom where his boyfriend with super hearing was showering.

“Fuck,” Tim mutters, “ fuckfuckfuck… ”

And he looks and sounds so distraught that Jason loses all the eagerness to tease him, concern quickly replacing any initial surprise he might have been feeling.

“Look,” Tim murmurs, looking anywhere but at Jason’s eyes, “it’s not… we’re just…”

Tim scrambles for words and this is so unlike him - Tim always has a plan, always knows what to say - it takes a moment for Jason to catch up on why he’s a stuttering mess. Jason had been so excited to find out his little brother had a boyfriend he forgot he lived in a world where homophobia was a thing.

“Timbers, chill out.” Jason grabs Tim’s hands from where they’re still resting on his shoulders. “It’s just me.”

Tim dares raise his gaze to meet Jason’s and it hurts a bit to see still a little fear in his blue eyes. Jason gives him an encouraging grin.

“I can’t believe you officially bagged a kryptonian. Way to go, kid.”

His shoulders slouch in utter relief right before he starts blushing again. What a cute kid.

“You keep calling me kid. You’re not that older. And don’t say it like that,” Tim mumbles.

“Like what? Like you’re snogging Superboy?” Tim punches him on the shoulder and Jason laughs. “Now I know why you were in such a hurry to leave the manor, you wanted your own place to bring your boyfriend over…”

“That’s not why I left and who said anything about a boyfriend? Maybe this was just a one night stand.”

Jason gives him a condescending look. “Timbers, I might have not realized you’re gay, but I do know you. You’re a boyfriend kinda guy.”

Tim rolls his eyes and mumbles something about assuming shit. “I’m bi,” he says.

“Cool,” Jason says, a shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

“Fuck,” Tim groans and lets himself fall on the couch. “How do you de-escalate an emotional situation so fast?”

“It’s a Bat thing, and you know how to do it too. All of us are trained to avoid emotions like the plague.”

“I was not prepared to come out when I got up this morning,” Tim admits.

Humming, Jason finally realizes that Tim doesn’t want to skip the emotions for this one. He sighs. The things he does for his brothers.

“It’s not a big deal, though,” he says. “I mean, you’re happy right?”

“I’m never happy.”

“Don’t quote Zuko. You started the real talk. You don’t get to bat your way out of it now.”

A sigh. “I’m happy. Conner is… the best.”

Jason nods. “Then it’s all good. I’m sure all the others would say the same.”

“You can't tell them!” Tim snaps, his eyes suddenly wide with panic again. “Seriously, Jay, you can’t-”

“Calm down, kid,” Jason cuts him off. “When did I make a habit of spilling your secrets to the B-man? It's none of their business.” Tim visibly relaxes and Jason adds: “Actually… Want me to make your house Dick-proof?”

“...what?”

“I mean, not kryptonian dick, you’re clearly into that,” and he ignores it when Tim pops him on the back of the head. “I mean Dick Dick, our brother. I could set up a better security system so you don’t have to worry about one of your siblings walking into something scarring, especially the clingy one.”

“No security system can stop Dick’s clinginess.”

“How do you think I keep him off my place?”

That’s when their little pow wow gets interrupted by more kryptonian skin than Jason ever wanted to see as Conner walks in with nothing but the smallest of the towels wrapped around his waist.

“Babe, what is--” He notices Jason and slips on literally nothing, barely catching himself before falling on his ass. “ Shit- I mean, nothing, I mean, we were just binging Wendy!”

Jason doesn’t say anything, but he does give Tim a look that says it all. He wasn't judging earlier, but he is now. Tim gives him a look that definitely means shut up.

In the end, Jason stays for breakfast.

It’s only mildly awkward, because he and Tim fill the silence talking about the latest case Jason’s working on while Conner makes them pancakes. Judging by the fact that he’s getting the ingredients from a bunch of plastic bags, he must have brought all the food with him. If anything, Jason is grateful that he and Alfred are no longer the only people trying to get Tim to eat actual food.

When Tim turns to Conner for his opinion, leaving Jason to enjoy his coffee, Jason looks around and notices that there are new pictures on the fridge. There are some of those disgustingly cute pictures of Tim and Conner, their cheeks pressed together as they make weird faces for the camera. There is a picture of Conner by himself and, again disgustingly, he is smiling at the camera as though the most precious person in the world is behind it. Both pictures are held by a sun magnet. There is a new candid shot of Cassandra, one of Alfred-Alfred holding cat Alfred, a new one of Dick and even Damian is in there.

And, his heart stops for a second, because now there are pictures of Jason as well.

They’re carefully placed far from each other, but there are three different pictures. There is one of Jason wearing his Lord of the Rings shirt, eating cereal on the couch, a confused expression on his face. He remembers when Tim took that picture, because Tim waited until Jason had his mouth full before calling hey Jay? and snapping the picture right as Jason looked at him, his cheeks like a chipmunk's. The second picture is a candid of him smiling, leaning against the rail of some safehouse balcony. The shot was carefully framed to not show anything distinct of the surroundings, just Jason and Gotham’s sky.

The third one is a selfie. In it, Jason is asleep, his lips parted and face relaxed, his head resting on Tim’s shoulder. Tim has a shit eating grin on his lips as if there is nothing funnier to him than his giant older brother falling asleep on him in the middle of movie night. Tim had the decency of drawing a mustache on Jason’s face to decrease sappiness, but that effect is ruined by the fact that the picture is held by a magnet that was clearly Iron Man but Tim had painted it red to look like Jason’s hood.

Jason had sworn off killing, at least for a little while.

But he would gladly kill again for his little brother.

As he gets ready to leave, he turns to Conner and deadpans, “I don’t have to tell you that I can and I will make kryptonite bullets, do I?”

“Jason!” Tim scolds.

“What? I’m the first of the family to find out. Least I can do is taje care of the shovel talk.”

“Stop threatening my boyfriend.”

Conner blushes profusely and mouths the word boyfriend with marvel and ugh. Just… ugh . Jason is happy that Tim is happy, but he and Conner are apparently that kind of couple and Jason wants to have none of it.

“So, first we kill Damian,” Jason starts.

“No,” Tim says.

“Aw, come on, you didn’t even consider it!”

Cassandra waits until they decide their plan of action (it’s probably going to be Tim’s) and keeps her expression carefully neutral as not to show which one of them she agrees with (Tim).

The thing, Jason realized, is that all of them have favorites in their family and knowing that makes it easier to tear them down. Dick can fuck off with his I love you all equally bullshit, because he clearly always favors Damian. Damian swings between Batdad’s little boy and Nightwing’s murder baby. Tim will easily lose focus whenever Steph is involved. Steph is oddly protective of Duke, for some reason. Cassandra is mostly neutral. She’s everyone’s favorite, including Bruce’s, but she’s also the deadliest of them all so she is no one’s weakness. She does, however, have a soft spot for Tim over any of her brothers. Since Jason became close friends with Tim, he entered Cassandra’s selective protection bubble and he’s now, by all definitions, untouchable.

Or at least that’s how he felt when she chose him for her team right after Tim.

“We kill Dick first,” Tim knocks down the little Nightwing action figure on the carpet. “Cass, you’re the only one who can take him down. Jay and I distract the others while you do the job. Damian will get personally offended by that and will grow reckless.” He knocks down the little imp figurine. “I can take care of him then. Steph will be hiding somewhere ready to strike. She is best in close range combat. Jay, I need you to take her down before she gets too close.” He pushes down the Barbie doll someone dressed as Batgirl, because apparently they couldn’t find blonde Batgirl merch and they were very offended. “Then we win.”

He may sound impressive, but the whole time he’s speaking he has his head resting on Cass’ lap and she is carding her fingers through his hair as a villain would do to their evil pet cat.

“Can’t I murder the demon brat?” Jason complains.

Tim glares at him - again, not very intimidating while he’s basically lying on his sister’s lap.

“You know Steph would wipe the floor with me. You’re the only one I can trust to get her.”

“Unless…” Jason turns around. “Du-”

“No.”

“Come on, I’ll give you ten bucks.”

“Jason, we’re all rich, you can’t buy me.” Duke doesn’t even raise his eyes from his book. “Plus last time I let y’all drag me into this shit, Steph knocked off one of my teeth with Tim’s staff.”

“If you hadn’t killed me, then she wouldn’t have taken revenge,” Tim argues.

“And yet you’re planning to kill Dick counting on the fact that Damian will try to avenge him.”

“Wet blanket,” Cassandra says.

Tim and Jason go into a giggling fit as Duke sputters, too indignant to put his thoughts into words.

In the end, Duke still doesn’t join them.

As they expected, the enemy was listening to their plan - Jason is sure Dick was against it, but Stephanie and Damian are definitely not above spying - nonetheless they still played their parts as expected: Steph and Damian tried protecting Dick first and foremost, but not even the two of them combined could take Cassandra. Not with Jason and Tim backing her up.

Cassandra knocks Dick down and sits on his back. The large yellow paint splash on his chest proves that he’s dead. Rather than being upset, Dick starts doing push ups with his sister there as the rest of his siblings and Steph fight to death.

Unfortunately, Damian wasn’t as angered by Dick’s demise as they expected and is still a good match for Tim. Until Tim gasps and goes Titus, don’t eat that! It was an obvious ploy, but still got Damian to let down his guard and whip his head around looking for his precious dog. Tim shoots him without hesitation and Damian goes on a rage soliloquy.

Jason would appreciate it if he wasn’t having such a hard time with Stephanie. Apparently Barbara has been feeding her steroids, because the girl is now as quick as a ninja. She hits Jason in the kneecaps with Tim’s staff - they’re not even in the same team this time, how the fuck did she get Tim’s staff??? - and shoots him point blank in the chest. And damn, that shit hurts. He bets it’s purple under his shirt too.

Steph is mid celebration when her victory whoop turns into a pained groan. Twin splotches of red and yellow bloom on her back as Cassandra and Tim lower their guns.

“Fuck,” Jason complains. “Couldn’t’ve done that before she killed me?”

“We win,” Cassandra says.

“Shouldn’t you be fighting to the death now?” Dick asks. Now that Cass is off his back, he’s lying on the side like one of your French girls. Jason wishes Cass would shoot him again.

“I would never betray Cass,” Tim says.

“We rule together.” She walks to him and stands on her tiptoes to kiss his forehead.

Tim grins a wicked grin because he knows he is Cassandra’s favorite and everyone can die mad about it.

Steph and Damian start shouting their complaints at the same time while Dick laughs his ass off. From his lawn chair, Duke is glaring at them as if he can’t believe he’s legally related to any of these weirdos.

His gaze meets Dick’s and his older brother looks absolutely elated with pride even though all of their siblings are yelling about paintball.

Jason simply smiles back.

#jason todd #tim drake #red hood #red robin #batfam #batfam big bang 2020 #poteto writing #red bros #collab

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storyofmychoices · 4 years ago

Text

An Adoption Story

[Mal Volari x Daenarya Masterlist] [Mal’s Orphanage Series]

Characters: Mal Volari, Daenarya (F!MC, human), Rayden (OC), Lydo (OC), Gareth (OC), Nia Ellarious, Mr. and Mrs. Silvius (OCs), Beary (Rayden’s stuffed bear that Daeny bought him) Book/Setting: Blades of Light & Shadow (post book at Mal’s Orphanage) Word Count: +/- 1,500 Synopsis: The hardest part of running an orphanage is the adoption part. Emotions run high when their first visitors come looking to adopt a child.

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“Miss Daenarya?” Rayden whispered solemnly, his grasp on Beary tightening.

The cacophonous hum of the crowd buzzing about the busy streets of White Tower almost drowned out his quiet plea. Almost. Although they were not presently in danger, Daenarya had developed a keen sense of hearing, keeping her ears trained for causes of concern. Her hand instinctively drifted around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her safely at his tone. “Yes, Rayden?”

The young boy’s head hung low. His dark, shaggy hair covered his eyes. “Nevermind.”

Daenarya guided them away from the crowd’s movements and toward the town fountain. Taking a spot on the smooth stone surface surrounding the cool, sparkling waters, she tapped the space beside her.

Rayden shook his head, remaining in front of her.

She shifted on the edge of the ledge, moving closer to him. Her delicate fingers curled under his chin lifting his face to hers. His dark eyes shimmered like the fountain, both reflecting the sun in their waters.

Swiftly, Daenarya brushed his hair out of his face searching his body for any signs of harm. “Are you okay? Did someone hurt you? What’s wrong, sweetheart? Talk to me, Rayden?”

He sniffled, his eyes closing as the first tear slipped out.

“Whatever it is, it’s okay. You can tell me,” she promised.

“It’s not.” He whimpered before throwing his arms (and Beary) around her neck.

Daenarya’s heart grew heavier unsure of what was causing his pain. Rayden had been nothing but a ball of light in their lives since first meeting him a few months back. This was quite unlike him. She held him close; her hands gently massaged his back, attempting to soothe him. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Rayden buried his head in her neck, his warm tears wetting her skin. “I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to lose you. ”

“You won’t, sweetheart. Where’s this coming from?”

“I like it here with you and Mr. Mal. I don't want to go someplace else.” He clung tighter to her.

Daenarya’s face fell in realization.

Three weeks earlier…

“This is Gareth. Gareth, these are my friends, Mal and Daenarya.” The Priestess practically glowed as she made the introductions. “They’re going to be taking care of you for a little while. Is that okay?”

The little boy, about seven-years-old, nodded. His dark eyes were sunken against his deep olive skin. His voice was soft, “Are you my new mom and dad?”

Daenarya’s eyes closed at the question. Nia had mentioned that Gareth’s parents were victims of the Shadow’s court's corruption of the Temple of Light. He had been living on the streets outside the Temple for almost a year when she found him.

Mal clapped his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder bending over in front of him to get on his level. “Sorry, kid...but, that doesn’t mean we won’t care for you any less. This is a safe place. I promise we will take very good care of you.”

Gareth nodded sadly. “Do you ever think I’ll have a mom and dad again?”

“I hope so!” Daenarya offered, moving beside them. “It’s our job to help you find a family and take care of you until then.”

“Does that sound okay?” Mal questioned with a raise of his brow. “Hang out here with us until we find you someplace better?”

“I guess that would be okay,” he agreed, a half-hearted smile gracing his lips.

One Week Earlier…

“Thank you very much for agreeing to see us,” a noblewoman offered, looking around the room. “You have a quaint little establishment here.”

Mal rolled his eyes at the low level of disdain in her tone. Daenarya nudged him discreetly, reminding him to be on his best behavior.

“It’s our pleasure to have you here. Nia spoke very highly about you and your husband, Mrs. Silvius,” Daenarya replied warmly. “You’ll have to forgive us, we’re rather new at this.”

“As are we, my dear.” The contemptuous tone he had noted earlier in her voice disappeared as a hopeful smile broke across her face. “May we meet the children?”

“Of course. They’re upstairs playing. If you will just follow me.” Daenarya led them upstairs. She had prepped the children to let them know that a potential adopter would be visiting. While they hadn’t really understood what that meant, they did understand that it could mean a new home for one of them.

At first, the children were nervous, sticking together rather than speaking with the Silviuses. After a couple of hours, the four children were happily sharing stories and showing the two newcomers all of the things they loved.

“They’re all amazing children,” Mr. Silvius noted, once the adults had retreated to discuss the visit. “I can’t imagine what they’ve gone through. You do wonderful work with them. You should be proud.”

“Thank you. We are.” Mal wrapped an arm around Daenarya’s waist. “I know first hand how hard it is to make it on your own at such a young age and the dangers you face. I couldn’t stand by and watch other children face what I had to. We don’t take this lightly.”

“We understand,” Mrs. Silvius agreed. “It is clear you care deeply for all of the children.”

“We do,” Daenarya answered. “We’ve grown to love them all, which makes this harder, but we know finding permanent homes for the children is what’s best for them and that is all we really want.”

“I’m happy to hear that. I think we’ve made our decision.” Mrs. Silvius looked to her husband who smiled in agreement. “My husband has always wanted a son. All three of your boys are amazing, but I think Rayden is our choice. His smile lights up the room.”

Daenarya’s heart dropped to her stomach. She felt Mal’s grip around her tightening. They knew it was always a possibility, but they weren’t ready for their journey with the brothers to end. She swallowed hard, fighting back the tears threatening to form. “Rayden is a wonderful choice. He and Lydo are incredible. You couldn’t have chosen better.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Silvius glanced at her husband once more who shook his head. “We would only be taking Rayden. Lydo is sweet, but taking on two children might be more than we can handle right now.”

Before Daenarya had a chance to process it, Mal stepped forward. “Then you can’t have him,” His voice was stern, but not harsh; there was a tenderness there. “I grew up on the streets, but the one thing that got me through was my sister. She was my world; I’m not sure I would have made it without her. Rayden and Lydo have been through more than you could possibly understand. They are the only family each other has left. I won’t allow them to be separated.”

Mrs. Silvius looked toward Daenarya. “I’m sure there is some arrangement that could be made. Perhaps if we make a sizable donation?”

“No, I’m sorry. As Mal said, we won’t separate them. There’s nothing more important than family.”

“I see. Will you let us think about this?” Mr. Silvius questioned.

“Of course, we know that this is a difficult decision and one that will affect the rest of your lives and the lives of the child or children you welcome into your family. We wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Present Time…

Her lips turned up as she hugged him closer. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying right here with us.”

“But those people, they took Gareth away. I don’t want to go,” he repeated.

“Those nice people are going to give Gareth a home and a place to live and grow up. They’re going to be his new family. He’s going to have a mommy and daddy who love and take care of him again.” Daenarya stroked his hair softly. “Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shook his head. “I like it with you and Mr. Mal. Beary and Lydo do too.”

“I know, Sweetheart. I like it like that too,” she admitted. “We’re just going to have to enjoy all of our time together, okay? But, I promise you that no matter what happens, Mal and I will always be here for you and Lydo. Okay? Always! No matter what!”

She held him safely in her arms until his sobs subsided.

Later that evening...

“Mal…” Her voice shook, as her nerves got the better of her. There was a nagging in the pit of her stomach and it had been growing since the first day he arrived. His confession today only made it worse. “We may have a problem.”

“Daeny, what’s wrong?” His strong hand caressed her cheek, as he pulled her in immediately noting her concern.

“I know our job is to provide these kids with a home until we find them a better one… and I know we can’t do this with every kid, but….,” she tried composing herself. “I don’t want them to be up for adoption. I don’t want to lose him—either of them.”

“What are you talking about? Who?”

“Rayden and Lydo.”

A low laugh rumbled from his lips as he exhaled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t want to lose them either,” he confessed, breathing easier. “I thought it was just me. There’s just something about those boys. Maybe it’s because I see myself in Lydo—”

“I want to adopt them,” she blurted out quickly before he could finish his thought. She clapped her hands over her mouth. She had meant to be more subtle or lead into it.

“Oh, my beautiful Kit.” Mal brushed a kiss on her forehead before pulling her snuggly in his arms. “I do, too!”

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

Perma tags: @lilyoffandoms ; @raleighcarrera ; @mfackenthal ; @the-soot-sprite ; @virtuallytakenby ; @zeniamiii ; @kaavyaethanramsey; ; @xjustin-ethansgirliex ; @caseyvalentineramsey; @trappedinfanfiction; @anotherbeingsworld ; @tyrils-star ; @nikki-2406

@choicesficwriterscreations

Blades Tags: @princess-geek ; @brightpinkpeppercorn ; @missameliep ; @mvalentine; @walkerswhiskeygirl ; @nyastarlight ; @edgiestwinter

#Mal Volari #Nia Ellarious #Mal Volari x MC #bolas #blades #blades of light and shadow #fan fiction #Daenarya #mal x daenarya #the orphanage #lydo #rayden #gareth

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katherinewilliams221b · 4 years ago

Text

A Very Walsh Christmas

Part 3/3

Summary: Charlie and Kate spend the day before Christmas at Kate’s grandfather’s house. Set in 1995 but I apologise if there’s some inaccuracies (Don’t think so but…)

Pairing: Charlie Weasley x ofc

You technically could read this as a one shot but you maybe miss out some things.

[Part 1] - [Part 2]

The day after the evening with the Walsh family, I woke up with a pleasant feeling in my body; the dim light coming in through the window, the warmth of the sheets and a sleeping Kate next to me made the world peaceful for a moment.

I did not recognise the room immediately, it took me several blinks to adjust my memories.

I stared at the ceiling for a while, concentrating on my breathing, and I smiled to myself remembering the Muggle story my father used to read to us. Or was it a song?

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Not quite, I thought. The door was closed, but I have no qualms about boasting that my hearing was good enough to hear some faint music.

I got up very carefully, trying not to wake her up, although I started to shake so violently that I was afraid that the chattering of my teeth would ruin everything.

I immediately put on the jumper I had brought with me, and for the moment it was enough.

I heard a sound of sheets and turned to see Kate looking for me with one hand in her dreams. I couldn’t help smiling, and selfishly thought of coming closer and having her find me, but the day ahead would require at least one more hour of sleep for her.

I realised too late that I left the room in my pyjamas and contemplated my options; Kate’s parents had already left, and they were the ones who worried me the most, so without further thought I followed the Christmas music downstairs.

The dining room table had plates and spoons, it was almost ready for breakfast and only with that detail I understood Bernard’s need to keep us in his house as long as possible. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to go to Grimmauld Place.

A piano version of Gloria In Excelsis Deo came out of a record player in the dining room. I wondered why Mr Walsh hadn’t turned on the machine with the smaller discs, since he seemed so happy with it, so much so he convinced Kate to buy one. I didn’t think it was a bad idea, but we wouldn’t get anything from the Weird Sisters in a Muggle shop.

I found Bernard serving tea in a single cup. Although the slippers I was wearing were very quiet, he turned to see who was entering the kitchen.

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.” He commented with a small smile and continued to serve tea, “Katie told me you were an early bird.”

“Good morning, and Merry Christmas to you too. What time is it?” I sighed with relief when I saw the striped pyjamas he was wearing.

“It’ll be seven in a while. You can sleep a little longer if you like, Cornelia and her husband are still asleep...”

“Oh, no, I like this time of the day. Everything is silent, and the world seems to be in its place.” I laughed, “That’s what Kate says, but at three in the morning.” Bernard huffed a laugh and gave me a tray with glasses to take to the table.

“I’m with you on this. Things have to be done when there’s light. Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

Together we sat at the table while the song changed to a slow version of Oh Christmas Tree.

“How do you celebrate Christmas at home, son?”

Every Christmas at home went through my mind like a movie, all different and special in its own way.

“Well, they got more complicated with each new sibling.” We both laughed, and the complicity in his eyes for understanding me reached my heart. “There’s always a big banquet, Mom cooks for a battalion... but between you and me: there’s never much food left.”

He smiled, but I saw something strange in his eyes. He looked down, but I decided not to ask questions about it, I was afraid to remove delicate feelings. “This is the first year I’ve seen them at Christmas since I left for Romania,” I continued, but he interrupted me.

“Don’t tell me that! That can’t be, no.” He raised an accusing finger and pointed it at me to scold me like when Mum did it when I was a child. “Let me tell you something: some people don’t like Christmas. They don’t want to give presents, or have to prepare food, or see those pesky cousins,” he put his hand on my wrist and with a calmer tone he continued, “but the family, the family, Charlie, has to be taken care of and the perfect excuse is this season.”

He tapped my hand and nodded sharply, ending his speech. I sighed, knowing that he was right, but a dark part of me had enjoyed the holidays on my own in the reserve tent and the first Christmas alone with Kate.

I adored my family, of course, but I could not deny that particular and inexplicable fullness of those years.

“After this year, who knows if we will be able to get together again.” I took the cup to my mouth, the liquid comforted my throat but not so much that the words kept coming out.

“I know something is happening. The atmosphere in the chess club has changed, there are men working in the ministry, you know? And last night...”

I looked up, but I bit my tongue. It would be better if Kate explained everything when we got to Grimmauld Place.

“It’s a bit long to explain. When we’re in a safe place, you’ll know everything.”

Or not. In saying this, it occurred to me that perhaps Kate would not want to involve her grandfather in what the Order and Dumbledore were up to, yet she agreed when I proposed that he accompany us to Sirius’ house.

The record had stopped spinning as we spoke, allowing us to hear voices coming down the stairs. Kate’s uncle, Secondo, and her aunt, Cornelia, joined us in the dining room.

“Dad! Merry Christmas!” Cornelia threw herself into Bernard’s arms and he caught her in a warm embrace. I couldn’t wait to hug my father like that.

“Merry Christmas, A stóirín.” He chuckled, “I’ll start preparing breakfast.”

Cornelia wished me a Merry Christmas with a kiss on the cheek and went to the kitchen with Bernard. Secondo patted my shoulder and went after them.

“We’ll prepare everything and I’m sure Kate won’t be able to resist the smell of coffee.” Bernard announced.

Together we started to take out cups and plates, we went around carrying tea, biscuits, coffee cups, milk, toast... at some point Bernard turned the record around, playing The Holly and The Ivy. The domesticity of the moment relaxed me, and although I had been with Kate for many years, it was only at that moment that I began to be part of the family.

It was a strange situation, no doubt, that made me contemplate how Kate put down roots in our home, how mum and dad and all my brothers adopted her immediately, long before we became a couple and, I dare say, before we became friends. Bill had been the first to meet her and obviously spoke of her with great esteem and admiration, despite the fact that we were only children. Mum already adored her and had never even seen her.

I understood at that moment, with a jar of jam in my hand and with some slippers on that were not mine, that this was what she had lacked during her life and that she found behind the doors of the Burrow.

I prayed to some Muggle god I didn’t believe in so she could make up for lost time with her grandfather.

With the first notes of Sans Day Carol, Kate appeared through the kitchen door dishevelled and with her eyes almost closed, but with a big smile that made me breathe deeply.

Congratulations and hugs began immediately, followed by frantic and chaotic conversations of which I could only discern a few words. I didn’t mind staying out of the family moment, I just enjoyed watching Kate trying to act like a human being before breakfast.

When she came to me, I couldn’t resist planting a kiss in the square on her mouth; she accepted it in surprise and a laugh escaped on the way. She asked me with an eyebrow, but I only shook my head.

“Don’t move.” She listened to me (have someone write down the date on the calendar), and when she saw a finger approaching her face, she closed her eyes.

I carefully pulled out the sleepy dust that was stuck to her tear duct and she smiled at me in gratitude. I left her free, and she trotted to the table to proceed with her breakfast.

“We must leave in a while,” announced Cornelia, “Secondo’s parents are waiting for us.”

“Of course, of course...” agreed Bernard, but I noticed the sadness in his words. Home For The Holidays just added more melancholy to the moment, and I looked at the record player as if the object could understand what I was asking for.

It made a strange noise that startled me; I hadn’t done that. Do You Hear What I Hear replaced the previous tune. I looked at Kate, who already had her eyes on me, and she blinked very slowly behind the cup she had taken to her mouth.

Although I already knew this, every time something like this happened I was overcome with a deep admiration for being able to speak without words. I agreed with Ginny internally, for being the first to point it out.

If anyone at the table observed the exchange, no one made any comments about it.

After Kate’s aunt and uncle left, she, Bernard and I were left alone in the house.

“Is there anything you’d like to do today, Grandpa?” Kate asked after drying the last of the dishes.

Bernard took the pick out of the record player and turned his back on us while he put the vinyl away.

“I have some errands...”

“All right, we’ll go with you...”

“No, no, why don’t you go directly to that mysterious place of yours and I will join you later?”

“You don’t even know where it is, Grandpa.”

He remained sullen as he brushed the crumbs off the tablecloth with a kind of brush that I had never seen before.

“Do you want to go and see Grandma?” Kate suggested.

“Yes, but it’s unnecessary to go all together, really, it’s something very quick that...”

“I feel like it too.” She interrupted before addressing me, “Charlie, could you take our things to the house? I’ll accompany my grandfather to the cemetery.”

I nodded, this would give me time to explain to Mom that we would have one more guest.

“I’ll stop by the hospital first.”

“Really, you don’t have to do this.”

“But I want to!” She gave him a half hug, and a shy smile appeared under his moustache.

“It’s decided. See you in Gr...” Kate’s withering gaze silenced me and I raised my hands to declare my innocence.

“Let’s get our stuff together.”

From the cupboard under the stairs we took out the bags we had brought for my family. I was a little embarrassed to have gifts as simple as socks or candy, but it was what I could afford to have gifts for everyone.

“And if I’m not there, whose arm are you going to hold on to when you get dizzy from apparating?” I teased her when I handed her her coat.

“Very funny, my knight errant, but I can manage on my own.” The huff of false indignation blew a little curl from her forehead that had fallen when she bent over, and I had to laugh at her attitude.

“Remember that St Mungo’s is crowded at Christmas. If they make you wait too long to see your father, find Madame Louise and tell her I sent you.”

I nodded, memorising the name, and after checking the cupboard, we left all the things by the door and went upstairs to get dressed.

Either someone had lied to me or my father had vanished because no one knew where to find him.

With a thousand bags in each hand, I left St Mungo’s and walked into an alley.

It had taken us quite a while to leave the Walsh house, so I showed up at Grimmauld Place, hoping that Mum had taken him out of the hospital.

Pulling out my wand was quite a feat and opening the door was even more difficult, but in the end I managed to get in.

The painting of Sirius’ mother almost tore my ears with its rales and I had to throw away all the things I had in my hand to be able to cover the bloody woman with a bed sheet.

“But what is this scandal? Fred, George! What are you doing? Charlie, darling...” Mum appeared wiping her hands on her apron and when she saw me she rushed to receive me with open arms. “Oh, but what joy you have given me, son. But where is Kate, I thought she would come?”

“She’s with her grandfather now, she’ll come later.”

“Well, she’ll have a plate of food when she comes...” With a grip stronger than one would expect for a woman of her size, she dragged me through the corridor.

“I’ve invited her grandfather, Bernard, to join us, is that okay?”

“But of course, darling! I’m delighted to meet someone from her family. That girl is so reserved... Ginny, love, look who I’ve found!”

“Mom, there’s something I wanted to ask you...” As if a cannonball had hit me, my sister threw herself at me with all the strength she had.

“Charlie! I thought you weren’t coming!”

I caught her in the air and anchored her so she wouldn’t fall. At that moment I heard a couple of ‘pop’ sounds behind my back and two identical redheads surrounded me.

“Oh! The favourite brother has arrived!”

“It’s actually Bill, but since he’s not here, we’ll settle for you.” Fred and George hung on to my arms and my knees almost dropped me.

“Thanks a lot, boys, I love you too.”

“Let my poor boy breathe, we have no spare.” I blew Ginny’s hair out of my face as best I could, and over her shoulder I saw Dad leaning against the door. My heart turned over when I saw him in that state, but the relief I felt was greater than the fear of what almost happened to him.

I tried hard not to think about it, and after kissing Ginny on the forehead, I took her off my torso so I could say hello to him.

I tried not to press too hard on the hug, and I noticed that he was grateful. I felt a few taps on my shoulder and found Ron waiting to greet me.

I didn’t hold back from him; in this case, I held him as long as I could until he felt embarrassed or suffocated, whichever came first.

It was the embarrassment, of course, but I couldn’t care less.

I saw Sirius Black sitting in the kitchen and went over to squeeze his hand cordially and wish him a merry Christmas. He turned out to be a nice bloke, against all odds, and I made a mental note to thank him for what he was doing for the Order.

Ron’s friend, Hermione, came to the door and greeted me after whispering something in his ear. I returned the greeting and saw them marching up the stairs.

“They’re going to be with Harry, the poor angel’s having a hard time lately.” Mum explained. “He hardly says a word.”

Dad sat down on one of the chairs around the table and I put a hand on his shoulder. He patted it before drinking from his cup.

“Isn’t Kate with you?” I was surprised that it was Sirius who asked, but I shook my head with a question in my eyes. “Dumbledore has asked me to deliver a letter to her.”

“Hey, Charles, did you bring us any presents?” George asked.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” Mum said. I just laughed and pointed to the front door where I had thrown all the bags. They both stampeded out in that direction.

“I’ll take the one I like best!” announced Fred. My father and I laughed, and I sat down next to him for a chat.

Kate and Bernard didn’t show up until long after the meal. I looked for something in their expression that would tell me what had taken them so long, but I saved the questions for another time.

“Have you eaten anything?” I asked her as I hung up her coat.

“Yes, I’m sorry. We talked a lot and walked around. We ate in the street. And your father?”

“He’s here! They brought him from the hospital this morning.” I could not contain my enthusiasm when I revealed that the family was almost complete. I was saddened by the situation with Percy I felt like giving him a hug too.

“Another thing: Sirius has something from Dumbledore for you.” The surprise on her face was understandable.

“Do you have any idea what it is?”

“A letter. I don’t know more.”

Bernard came up to us and I reached out my hand for his scarf and hat.

“I think we need to make introductions, don’t you?”

“Yes, come on, my mother is looking forward to meeting you.”

My parents were delighted with Bernard Walsh, and George and Fred soon became friends with him; Kate’s grandfather matched the mischief of the twins and quickly made his way into the family.

When he was in good company, I left the kitchen to look for Kate, but I ran into Ginny in the hallway.

“You should talk to her, she seems worried.” She pointed to the stairs and went into the kitchen with the rest.

Upstairs I found Ron and Hermione on the landing, knocking on one of the doors where Harry Potter was probably hiding.

To my right, I saw part of Kate’s green dress on the other side of an ajar door. I met her and closed the door behind me.

“Read this.” She handed me a scroll, and I recognised Professor Dumbledore’s fancy calligraphy. I scanned the document and raised my eyebrows.

“Durmstrang?”

Kate mouthed a ‘yup’ and sat on a purple divan next to a really ugly lamp.

“A mission of the Order in a school. Can you believe it?”

I read the letter again, frantically searching for the date of departure, and I felt like collapsing when I saw that it was sooner than I would have liked.

“In less than two weeks! For how long?” She looked at her hands, afraid to tell me. I read the paper again and at the end of it all was the unfortunate word: ‘indefinitely’.

“You’d better get that thing sorted out as quickly as possible.” That was the only thing I could think of to say.

I sat down next to her and put a hand on her knee. She covered it with hers immediately and put the other hand around my arm, leaving me anchored to her leg.

We stayed like this for a while in silence until I suddenly stood up and extended my hand to her.

“Come on. Now is not the time.” She agreed, and we followed the voices, not to the kitchen but to a small living room.

Everyone was crowded around a table where two people were sitting. We approached Hermione, who was watching cross-armed from the door.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, Harry doesn’t want to talk to anyone.” She commented, raising her shoulder.

“I meant, what’s going on here?”

“Ron has decided to play chess with your grandfather, Kate.”

Her eyes widened, and she let go of my hand to join the group. I followed happily because something had managed to distract us.

Bernard and Ron looked at the board in silence, each one concentrating on their own strategy. I must admit that I’m not a bad player, but until now I didn’t know anyone who had beaten Ron, Harry perhaps.

However, Kate had told me that her grandfather was a fierce and ruthless player so I would not have bet my galleons on Ron.

My brother shook his head and toppled his queen, declaring his defeat.

“You beat me in three.” He stated.

Bernard smiled, and his eyes shone behind his glasses. He extended his hand to Ron, and he shook it, sealing the game. Bernard raised his index finger before moving one of my brother’s pawns to another square.

“Can’t you see? You could have blocked the knight.”

Ron put his hand to his head and let out a shy laugh before nodding.

“You’ve got talent, kid. You play better than some lads from the Club.”

“Oh, this was wonderful!” exclaimed Mom. “I didn’t understand a thing.”

“Another one?” Ron proposed and Bernard nodded. With a twist of the hand, the pieces flew across the board to opposite sides. Now Ron would play with white.

I left Kate and the others in the room watching the game, except for Dad, who came out into the hall with me.

“We forgot! We have presents for you too!” I hugged him by the shoulders and we went into the kitchen. “Somebody’s going to have to explain to that nice gentleman why we’re here.” He whispered.

“Kate may have already done that. Now let’s enjoy what’s left of Christmas and that you’re here with us.”

“Son, I couldn’t agree more.”

A/N It wasnt very christmas-y but it felt right writing all of that.

#charlie weasley #charlie weasley x mc #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x ofc #charlie weasley x jacob's sibling #kate williams #order of the phoenix #harry potter #hphm

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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 4 years ago

Text

Evak Fics - Kid Fics

*** Isak and Even have a child together *** They are parents but to different children *** Only one of them is a parent

***** THEY HAVE A CHILD TOGETHER *****

Nas by OrTheNightEverythingChanged (571 words) - Isak and Even take their daughter to the skatepark.

Sugar Coat This Love For Me by i_once_wrote_a_dream (1k words) - A little argument over candy during Halloween.

life with our little prince by glbertblythes (SERIES. 3 Fics) - Isak and Even adopt a little boy with prince curls and blue eyes.

All in the Eyes of a Boy by MacksDramaticShenanigans (1.3k words) - the first time Isak and Even meet their son.

all i want for christmas is you by stringsinmelody (1.3k words) - Isak and Even enjoy their first Christmas together with their baby.

sugar and spice and everything nice by chasingflower (1.6k words) - Eskild and Noora finds Evak’s kid from the future. It’s adorable as heck.

småfolk by stringsinmelody (SERIES. 5 fics) - a/b/o undertones.

the room's hush hush and now's our moment by ahana (2.2k words) - A night in the life of Isak and Even, sixteen years later.

Stjerner Lyser Skinnende by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.4k words) - Isak and Even attend their daughter’s music concert. She has a surprise for them.

The Beginning of Believing by MacksDramaticShenanigans (2.5k words) - Their children argue about Santa.

I'll be there by Wolle19 (SERIES. 3 fics) - All Isak want is for his husband to be home for the holidays. Mpreg.

I'll give you the brightest sunshine by goldenkisses (3k words) - It was something that they new would always happen, a life being brought into their lives that would make all the gloomy days into something so bright. Adoption.

everything that happens is from now on. by Skamtrash (6.7k words) - Adoption. At the end so not a lot of the kid is involved here. This is part of a series. The next part, wrap your arms around my heart just like you always do. has more of the kid.

Isn't He Lovely by MacksDramaticShenanigans (4.4k words) - the first time Evak’s kid meets his uncles.

don't be wasting your time (on your own) by orphan_account (4.6k words) - Five things Even reminds himself not to forget, and the one thing he does. NOTE: The fic says this is a sequel and the first fic is a must read. But there’s no link so if you know which the main fic is, let me know. P.S. This could go under the different children category but they are already a family here so..

The Fools Who Dream by Janey_E (6k words) - A collection of moments from Isak and Even's family life, important and not-so-important. Kids, friends, mornings, evenings, weddings, birthdays, bad days, good days.

Our Steady True North by verlore_poplap (orphan_account) (9k words) - Five times Isak and Even were amicable; plus one time they just weren't. Co-parenting. Post break-up.

i ain't no hercules by grinsekaetzchen (12k words) - Post-apocalypse world. This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. They kinda adopt this boy. The first part is if you must live, darling one, just live and it’s amazing.

my entire world fits perfectly in my arms by theyellowcurtains (12.8k words) - A bunch of cuddle prompts. Not all of these are kid fics.

(WIP) Everyday Evak: The Realistic Stories of Isak & Even by NeonViolet (14k words) - A realistic looks into Even and Isak's life. It's not always glamorous.

you told me we were forever by Skamtrash (19k words) - Isak finds out he's having a baby soon after Even breaks up with him so he makes the decision not to tell him. Except Even finds out on his own 3 years later.

The Fiction of Reality by Midlifecrisis (24k words) - Isak and Even have a daughter, but life is not plain sailing.

Soup is for the Soul by unfancyandy (26k words) - This is a sequel. So SPOILERS. set 5 years after "Sleep Is For Dreamers," Even and Isak are starting a new adventure.

Evak Family by orphan_account (SERIES. 7 fics) 80k- Isak is nineteen, Even is twenty-one, and they had a plan. A plan that they've very, very carefully stuck to. Until, that is, Isak gets sick and can't seem to figure out what's wrong with him. Spoiler: he's not sick. Mpreg.

You Are Everything I Have Never Been by staylucky (78k words) - Isak Valtersen is an unpresented, soon-to-present omega who is convinced his best friend Jonas Vasquez is his alpha mate until he meets a very charming and persuasive new alpha, Tall Stranger aka Even Bech Naesheim, making him question everything. The kid part comes later on in the fic.

Calm After by desp3ration (270k words) - This is a sequel to Tidal Waves . So SPOILERS. The tags say Evak becoming parents but I have not yet read this and I don't want to fo through it to figure it out because I want to read this later. So if it shouldn't be in here, let me know.

***** THEY EACH HAVE DIFFERENT CHILDREN *****

shred by tusktooth (22k words) - Has a twist but nor really a twist. I’m just gonna put this in this category. There were two versions of Isak Valtersen. He was cool, smart snowboarder guy. The real Isak, was also trans, gay, and a father. Keeping the two Isaks separate wasn’t that difficult. At least, not until he saw Even again.

***** ONLY ONE OF THEM IS A PARENT *****

Even the Illustrator by eavk (SERIES. 3 fics) - An AU where Even’s an illustrator who draws what kids describe to him for YouTube, and Isak is the smitten father of a six year old with a wild imagination.

a lullaby for you by noirophelia (2.2k words) - Isak has a wonderful little daughter. Even is her wonderful teacher.

Better With You by iriswests (5.8k words) - Isak and Even don't know what they'd do without the other. Eventually, they realize they don't really need to find out.. Single dad Even. Vet Isak.

(WIP) carrying our dreams and all that they mean (trying to make it all worthwhile) byodair_goes_my_sanity (8.4k words) - We’ve been hooking up for the past few weeks and holy shit it turned out you’re my kids teacher oh god this embarrassing!

Universe At Its Finest by Skamtrash (8.6k words) - The universe brings Even into Isaks life, he just didn't know Even came with a full package. A kid fic with 90% pure fluff.

The Little Flower Named Dahlia by Bellakitse (18k words) - Single!Dad Isak + Preschool teacher Even and the little girl that brings them together. Adorable fic.

(WIP) Draw a Family by Isakprettykitty (21k words) - Isak, a single parent, takes his 5 year old son to preschool for the first time. Before Isak adopted Magne, his biologic parents weren't treating Magne as they should and some of the scars still haven't healed. Magne's teacher is no other than Even bech næsheim, who makes it his goal to help Magne out with his social anxiety. As time passes, Even and Isak grow closer and the younger one finally learns that it is okay to depend on other people.

Lovesick by Sabeley (SERIES. 2 fics) - Even is absolutely not making up excuses to take his daughter to see the hot new pediatrician. 5 times Even's daughter wasn't actually sick and 1 time she was.

take me as i am-universe by argentae (SERIES. 3 fics) - He isn’t crushing, and nevertheless this guy has become a Problem, because whenever he’s on shift he’s made it increasingly difficult for Isak to really spend his time productively. Sure, he could just find another place to study but he likes the access to coffee here even though he actually kind of hates the bitterness of it and he’s just not going to let himself get swept aside because of this guy. Parent!Even.

We are our Choices by recklesslee (40k words) - Even is informed that one decision he made on a lonely night months ago has led to a new bump in the road. Now Even has another choice to make, and that just might change his life for the better. Doctor!Isak.

Emmy by NeonViolet (48k words) - Isak is 25 and working in marine biology. Sana is his best friend. He has a 7 year old. And her new school principal looks familiar. Adorable!

waiting outside ('til you're ready to go) by mellowellom (52k words) - An AU where Isak's daughter is an actual little devil that he can't control for the life of him, and his neighbour Even offers a helping hand.

we've made it this far, kid by everythingislove (straykid) (SERIES. 2 fics) - Technically, Isak is an uncle. The one where Isak is just trying to raise his nephew as best he can with the help of his best friends. He doesn't expect to fall for Felix's gorgeous football coach along the way.

(WIP) The Daughter by Laika_the_husband (10k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. Even’s daughter appear in the previous fics but not as much. Continues from the series, A Dove, a Snake, a Ghost and a Madman. And what an excellent series this is.

Quitting You by Laika_the_husband (65k words) - A sequel. So spoilers. From the series, Because of You I'm Nothing, I'm Nowhere. Isak Valtersen is a happy stay-at-home dad of his baby girl, taking care of his new home in Belgium. His peaceful life as a domestic god gets turned upside down, when his deeply buried desires are suddenly forced to resurface. It is simple enough to find someone on Grindr, but when that someone is painfully familiar, things can get complicated. Another excellent series.

I Can Hardly Breathe by Flatfootmonster (82k words) - This fic, man. Isak gets hired to be the nanny? for Even and Sonja’s kids. This fic is just absolutely amazing.

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #kid fic #i think i'm missing a bunch #i will update if i know of more #shout out to the anon who asked about kid fics #that's why i made this list #i need to empty my queue tag

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jjkpls · 5 years ago

Text

crayons ‘dul’ (PG)

> genre : fluffy fluff, angst, comedy

> pairing : kim namjoon x reader

> words : 3.7k

> warnings : none (except a rusty quill)

>Y/N, a primary school teacher, is way too soft for the quiet, timid new child in her class. Little did she know, the adult version, who engendered this cutie, is even more charming.

> prior

> next

It doesn't take Mr Kim too long to find a way to meet you.

A week or so later, Adrianne is handing you a little post-it where her curvy cursive spells his name, with his phone number and a time. He says he'll bring Jimmy early to school in two days, to contact him if it doesn't work for you and that he cannot wait to talk to you again. This last part you wouldn't bet on the accuracy. Adrianne says he stuttered his way through a mumbo jumbo of English and another language she didn't recognize, apologizing because he didn't know how to express what he meant but from what she could gather, he was excited to have this meeting about Jimmy.

He arrives two days later, right on time. Not a minute early nor late, perfectly on time and if you don't point it out loud, you still notice it with a discreet smile.

They both look perfectly relaxed, smiling for the man and rather calm for the boy. It's funny to see him now. Mr Kim looks pretty much nothing like the first time you saw him, with the worry, the low-key panicked, agitated state he came bursting in your classroom. He looks a few years younger, with an easy grin stretching full rosy lips, dimples digging deep in his roundish honey cheeks -almost the same as his son's, you notice with delight- wearing a straight maroon coat, this time well adjusted, that's making him even taller and more elongated if possible and of which the shade compliments his complexion endearingly so.

"Hi. It's really nice to see you." You end up greeting him first, as warmly as you can.

You've been pondering over this meeting for so long, time feeling like it never ceased to stretch out and felt dreading, dreading, dreading. It was never coming soon enough and you were terrified, even if you had no reason to doubt Mr Kim's honesty, that he'd bail on you for whatever reason.

But here he is, seemingly so open to discuss and after installing Jimmy at his desk with the same tools as last time (a pile of white sheets waiting to be filled and your set of crayons) you join him a few tables away (far enough for Jimmy not to be exposed to the conversation but close enough to keep an eye on him, or more accurately, for him to keep an eye on his guardian), pressing your hands together and against your bosom to try to contain my excitement.

"As I told you last time, Jimmy is a very sweet boy. He's not doing bad with the exercises and activities, it's quite surprising -in a great way!- since from my understanding English is not his first language, right?"

"Yeah, no, it's uh- it's Korean. We just moved from Korea a few months ago, well, right before he started school. But we- my- her mother and I would try to talk to him a bit of English at home to have him pick up on the basis..."

"Oh, that's nice! Children that young do learn languages particularly easily, it's definitely beneficial for him. I can already tell."

Namjoon sends a glance his way, a fond, dad's proud one lingering on his tiny figure hunched over the desk. You can't quite tell from where you sit but it does look like he's started drawing.

"Had you planned moving here for a long time? I mean, was it the plan from the start, that's why you wanted to teach him English?"

"No, not really." The mood feels different. It switches from rather tranquil and cheerful into a very heavy, uneasy silence his deep voice hardly disturbs. There's a glint in his eyes. It's not an easy one to look at and your heart stings as the glint takes over his whole gaze hovering over his son. You understand it's something sad. Probably painful and hard to carry even for such a strong-looking, shoulder-broad grown man.

You don't want to push it. You're curious, as one gets, but too decent and you know yourself to be too soft-hearted and sensitive, for you to be snooping through sad people's luggage. But you think back about Jimmy, whose curious eyes, beautiful but wide with something reflecting like a perfect mirror what you can now find in his dad's, and you're certain that his odd behaviour must come from that.

"Mr Kim, the reason I wanted to see you," You start, voice quieter. He's startled for a second, redirecting his attention back on you, and he looks a bit guilty. As if he highly suspects, if not already know full well, where this is going. "I do meet all the parents of my students, as I told you. But in the case of Jimmy, if I was so insistent, it's that I'm really concerned about him."

His eyes draw downwards, staring at his hands. Long slender fingers fidgeting with one another, pinching and twisting a bit. I wonder if like his son, he might start crying.

"He's lovely but he cannot- he has had a really hard time uh- how could I put it?" You don't want to sound too alarmist. You know parents have the tendency to freak the fuck out for the misinterpretation of one single word. Sometimes an onomatopoeia, misplaced, send them into a raging spiral of anxiety over what terrible condition their kid might be dealing with. Not all parents are insane or simply too quick to jump to conclusions -or plain stupid. Some understand, whatever words you use. The father sitting in front of you seems worried and pained enough you wish you could protect him but you need him to understand that his situation is serious, and how important it is for Jimmy to have the tools to change now, while he still can, before he gets too old and start to take all those unfortunate coping mechanisms as lifelong terrible habits. "He's had a hard time simply being a kid." Namjoon sighs deeply. "He doesn't speak to anyone, not even me. Hardly looks at his classmates, never approaches them. I've noticed also that talking is not the only issue, any form of expression, if not made to do because it's in the course and all the other children are doing it too, he simply won't do." Mr Kim has raised his head enough for you to see him. He's troubled, upset, worried. But he seems to want to show himself more involved and you can tell he is, you can tell he cares as he listens so carefully as you explain in great details the odd incident with the papers and the crayons he refused to play with, even without a soul to watch over his shoulder.

"I feel it's a bit more than simple timidity. Or that at least, there's something significant behind this timidity. I can understand that it might be sensitive to you," You do, his eyes are screaming at you and you can't ignore them. Sort of begging for something, you're not quite sure what, you're not quite sure they, themselves, know either. It's a terrible case of a grown adult, an apparent composed grown man with a mighty balanced life, not a child anymore, actually, a dad, appearing so vulnerable and broken. It's a horrid vision. You've never been able to handle those.

"But it's in Jimmy's interest that I know a bit more. It's quite concerning. He's at an age where he's supposed to develop those skills. If we just let him be, leave him in this... unease, whatever it is, he might adopt it for a very long time until the time comes when it's become an exhausting challenge, almost impossible, to overcome.”

"I understand what you're saying." Mr Kim starts, voice low and tiny I can hardly pick up on the words. "I noticed- I mean, he's not changed that much with me. He's never been a very loud, boisterous boy, you know? But lately, he's been a bit quieter. I can see it at home, he's a bit stoic, less... expressive." You lose the man for a second. He's staring at his son longly and you don't want to abruptly bring him back to the conversation. Eventually, he does come back on his own, clearing his throat and scratching his neck. "That's- ridiculous but I even told myself the other day that I miss his tantrums. He didn't use to throw a lot of fits but sometimes he would, for more candies or something stupid like that. But he hasn't in a while."

You can't count how many times you heard overwhelmed parents jokingly wish that their kid would just turn off, stop causing scenes, stop demanding, screaming and crying out ridiculous tantrums. You remember Adrienne, saying more than once, to chastise the behaviour of one too agitated child to take a look at Jimmy, learn to be more like him, and why can't they be like him.

The thing is, a child is not supposed to be quiet.

A child should be problematic, testing, challenging. Loud and cheerful and agitated because children are like that. They are little humans just starting this whole insane experience that is Life, trying to figure themselves out, trying to figure out the people around them and the whole world along with it. They're meant to be a mess.

They're not meant to be quiet and tranquil, and bathing in a sort of slow, stoic haze. They're certainly not meant to have this expression on their face. The one Jimmy is wearing. Of deep, deep sadness. Like he's been somewhere, he's felt something, he's lost something that has left him misplaced forever. As if he's not really part of this world, this Life, or doesn't care or know why he's in it. Just letting himself float about. Embarrassed and denying all impulse that could potentially shape him and his existence.

He's only five.

"Do you have any inclination as to why his behaviour has turned into this?"

You see the gears going into labour in his head. He looks pensive, lost in a pit of thoughts he doesn't know if he can nor should share. There's a tremble to his lips, to his fingers, a telling frown to his eyebrows as his eyes very obviously decide to avoid you. The question seems to seize him like an earthquake but somehow, it's a good one. A disturbing but potentially lucky one. One that would invite him to experience something hard but liberating, something that he really needs.

Not long after you've asked the question to which you already know half of the answer, he pauses to think it over and then decides to talk. You notice the way his body slump over himself instantly, along with an abyssal years-old sigh and he starts to talk.

"5 months ago, my- his mom passed away." You hate yourself for the way you gasp, eyes wide and already blurry as if it's appropriate, as if you're allowed when you can't even imagine the beginning of their pain. It all starts making sense and you're heartbroken. You wish you didn't show yourself so reckless, sensitive but somehow naive and unhelpful.

You mouth a silent apology and condolence you notice he accepts from the way he nods, not wanting to cut him off. He's already breathless and you wonder how many more words he has in stock before the resources shut down, right before he loses it and breaks the strong persona he has to keep straight and steady for his son. How exhausting it must be. "It was hard already in Korea but I thought -naively- that if we moved here, close to her family, maybe, being around them would ease- everything out a bit. I don't know. It was stupid." He shakes his head from left to right, scoffing to himself, a hand raised to his forehead, hiding his eyes.

"It wasn't, Mr Kim. It's very honorable of you to quit everything for your son." Your words have no effect whatsoever. Unfortunately, it's blatantly obvious, he's made up his mind already. He's guilty, he messed up, and he holds a grudge against himself for this decision and nothing a dumb teacher, sensitive and half-weeping, would say could change that opinion, as destructive and inaccurate as it may be.

"It really was. It's so different here, I thought after some time it would be worth it but I think he hates it. I think he's very confused and I don't know if he's too young to feel like that, I'm not sure, but he looks like he's embarrassed about being a foreigner. Like not speaking properly. I can't even tell if he understands well or if he doesn't get it at all when people speak to him in English since he just- he can't really communicate. Even with his cousins, it's-"

Oh.

"Oh." Now that you hear him say that, it lights a small bulb hidden at the back of your head. It shines upon a whole roof-tall shelf holding all of those awkward, disagreeable memories you tend to forget actively because even reflecting on them decades later still sends a thrill of disgust the length of your spin.

It's those moments of pure embarrassment, of horrid dreading feelings that you used to be overwhelmed with as a child and this until you were not much more of a child anymore, and those memories paired with their emotions simply faded into shadows of scenes that you can only wonder if they ever were real.

You used to be filled with stupid insecurities based on very confused, distant, impossible to decipher pretend truths, sometimes, you would just feel stupid. Completely idiotic, ignorant, and unlovable. In those moments, you just couldn't dare open your mouth to pronounce a word that would give you away. Because if you did, somehow, you would end up messing up and people would laugh and make fun of you and hate you because there are so many reasons to and of course you deserved it.

Images of the little boy, hiding obviously in a corner but longingly observing his peers. Obviously terrified but curious, and most definitely desiring.

Because of course, he'd want to. Talk to them, be with them but how could he when he's not even sure he could speak the way they do.

"Mr Kim, I can tell he wants to. Even if he can't let anyone approach him, I can tell he'd like to be part of the group. That being said his fears or as you said, maybe his insecurities, don't allow him to."

"Should I- Should I seek for a therapist? He had one in Korea but I don't think he was ready for it. He just reacts very badly to strangers, especially when they try to, you know, sink into your brain and- now that we're here, I can hardly picture how that would go."

"Well, therapy is never a bad idea. It can only be beneficial for him... for anyone." You're not sure how appropriate it is for you to add this but you owe to say it. Sometimes, parents don't realize, but a child's deepest wounds are born from seeing and feeling their guardians'.

"I'd seen someone already." He explains without needing you to insist further. Seems like you're not as subtle as you thought yourself to be. "I did because- I had to. His mom and I had been separated for a while before her passing, it'd always been complicated between us and I can't lie, I did feel terribly guilty... I thought it might hurt him somehow. Maybe he could feel it and experience it too. I had to for the both of us. It fixed me but not him, so I suppose, it didn't come from that."

"Grief is... It's very complex. It comes along with a plethora of confusing, untamed emotions as an adult but for a child... It must manifest in a way we can't even imagine. I'm sorry, you don't need me to tell you that." You're a mess of stutters. Words are running away from you, the smart ones are even flying, making sure there's no way you'd catch them by the tip of the tail. You just want to ease this father's struggles, somehow. You don't know him much but you know his son, a little, and you, for reasons you don't care much to look into, deeper than simply you having a saviour complex, need to help it all resolve. They don't deserve any of it all. No one does.

It might be silly. But the thought of Jimmy, that sweet, lovely child, sensitive and precious as he is, must have a father quite special himself to have been brought up this way.

"No, it's fine. You're right." A heavy silence settles in between you. In the background, faintly, you can hear the soft rustling of the tip of a crayon against paper. You open your mouth, the fantastic memory of the other day, when he arrived late to pick Jimmy up and something you still, a week later, recalling itself back to you. He opens his at the exact same time and before you're able to utter any word, he's the one starting, "Actually, I really appreciate it. Being able to talk about it like that with someone. Since my therapist, I don't think I was able to. People only have enough tolerance for other's pain. Which I understand, it's just- hard and well, I'm thankful for you."

He stammers saying that, seemingly scrambling with his own words. The compliment is so heartfelt, like a shot from his heart directly into yours. Most of the emotions it rises probably coming from his choice of wording, maybe an error of translation, a lack of exactitude that doesn’t come smoothly. You've never heard anyone said those words to you and somehow, so unprepared for it, you can hardly handle the overwhelming burst of gratitude.

With the greatest pleasure, you jump on the occasion to bring something good to him, what you meant to say when he started first, the story about last time and how confident you are that better days are yet to come.

It brings an evident brush of light to his expression. The youthful sense he gave off when he just walked in, made of warm colours and smiles, is back. As if a weight has been lifted. As if he trusts you with his son, now wearing his hopefulness and trust and appreciation on this soft face of his, and you feel yourself blush in delight.

It’s precisely why you do what you do. Most of the times, those moments come in more subtle, almost dubious manifestations. It’s a drawing made ‘only for you, Miss’ or a kid you haven’t seen in a few years recognising you from across a hallway and beaming all his teeth your way; or maybe a present too nicely picked out and wrapped up too well to be the product of a kid’s, handed to you at the end of the year.

It's a wonderful feeling you're experiencing.

Until it turns sort of awkward. You mean, from a third party, maybe from Jimmy's eyes, it’s definitely awkward. It doesn’t exactly feel this way for you though. You're just kind of staring at each other, grinning obnoxiously. Delighted by the turns of events -even more so with the start of the conversation, which brought difficult painful shocks to an already sensitive soul, the benevolence and mutual understanding feel all the more pleasant.

Conquered by each other in a way you probably won’t be able to express very well with words if any of you tried. You see in him an ally -which is always such a wonderful feeling because as curious as it is, all parents are not always reliable allies to you, teachers- and you think he does too.

It’s just that it lasts for quite a bit. Probably too long. Until finally, the rummage going on outside brings you back to earth and school that is about to start in a few reminds itself to you.

Quickly he thanks me again, in between the bursting in of a loud, chatty-feeling Riley Donovan, and a Charlotte dragging her feet in discontent. He says something about meeting again before he’s rushing to Jimmy, whose calm demeanour has wavered when his classmates starting walking in.

It’s as heartwarming as last time. The way Mr Kim just has to lean forward to wrap his arms around Jimmy to have him melt onto his chest, face burying in his neck and tiny hands squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until the chubby fingers turn white against his dad’s neck. There’s an exchange of secret words and of gazes, special ones that wouldn’t mean much to anyone else, you believe on the moment, until Mr Kim needs to depart and does so.

The gaze Jimmy had for his dad doesn’t disappear right as the later leaves. It remains and is directed solely on you in a very peculiar way, so notable that your heart starts racing when you notice.

Jimmy who usually avoids eye contact, sometimes would look at you, if you're addressing directly to him for example and those looks are systematically made of bewilderment, maybe fear, definite insecurity. Like a prey caught in a predator's radar.

But now those eyes, the round, dark wonders are lingering with something utterly different. A stillness that hits so differently. You're not sure if you are seeing things, if it’s wishful thinking. If it’s you now watching through the lens of someone beyond enchanted, purely content from the newfound trust and confidence and inspiration.

When you free your class for recess, you have confirmation that something has changed. You have no idea how he did it without you noticing but as you turn your back to the door to face your desk -and your chair, which your legs are dreading to have you throw yourself on- you see the perfect tidy pile of your crayons laid carefully on top of it. A few papers are sitting next to it, less than you gave him.

It’s ridiculous, embarrassing to an extent you would never tell that moment out loud but you end up jumping on the balls of your feet, clapping your hands together like a stupid seal, squealing before grabbing the stack of crayons and pressing it to your heart.

A/N : thanks so much for having waited for me so patiently; as always, lots of love send your way, thanks so much for reading, i hope you enjoy it :)

#btswriterscollective #networkbangtan #thekimlinenet #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts scenario #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon scenario #namjoon drabble #my writing

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veliseraptor · 5 years ago

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Hey Lise, I was wondering if you could maybe just give me a quick and dirty synopsis of The Untamed characters? I really like your fics and wanna read them, but I have NO idea who anyone is hahaha

I was gonna like. Link to someone else’s rundown of this, but then I decided it might be fun to write my own, which was a mistake. But I make all kinds of mistakes! So unsurprising.

This is going to, by virtue of being a character overview, contain spoilers, so if you think you’re gonna want to watch and want to avoid spoilers then watch out for that. This is also broken down by sect because that makes it easier.

The degree to which I explain the plot here varies wildly and I’m not actually sure how coherent it is. If you want a more detailed rundown that has pictures and shit and also other information, see here; also some of these characters have more than one name, which I’ve noted where the usage of multiple names is likely to pop up in fic.

This is very much QUICK and DIRTY and NOT COMPREHENSIVE, just to underline that a few times. It’s also show focused rather than novel focused, because that’s most of the canon I’m working with. I have also not translated titles here (Hanguang-jun, Zewu-jun etc.) because they just sound better untranslated.

THE JIANG SECT

Wei Wuxian: Also known as Wei Ying or (if you’re nasty) the Yiling Patriarch. One of the two main characters of the show. He died (killed himself) in disgrace, universally reviled as evil, but it’s okay, he got better. Or rather, his soul got swapped into the body of a man named Mo Xuanyu, whose life really sucked and who almost never gets acknowledged by the narrative. Sunshine boy on the outside, but it’s complicated.

Sort of invented necromancy, or at least perfected it. Will kill you with his magic ghost flute, but mostly only if you deserve it. Mostly. Self-sacrificing to a fault due to basement level self-worth and a tendency to believe that he can handle things other people can’t. Swapped out his ability to do magic to keep his brother alive via nonconsensual surgery. This had a lot of somewhat unexpected consequences, it turns out. Got thrown into a very bad place called the Burial Mounds and came out with new powers and a whole new pile of trauma.

Rescues the Wen remnants from being killed in a prison camp after the war against the Wen Sect; this is not a popular move. Founds a commune with them in the aforementioned Burial Grounds. Also raises Wen Ning from the not-dead.

Adopted older brother (ish) to Jiang Cheng and younger brother to Jiang Yanli, adopted father to Lan Sizhui, eventual husband to Lan Wangji (at least according to novel canon and many, many post-canon fics).

Jiang Cheng: Also known as Jiang Wanyin, but only if he’s being a little bitch. He technically has a title (Sandu Shengshou) but I don’t remember if it’s ever actually used in the show. The youngest of the triad of Yunmeng Siblings (Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli), and possibly the most dysfunctional. Expresses all his feelings as anger, and he has a lot of feelings. Abandonment issues and inferiority complex the size of the lake that he grew up on. His entire family died and it fucked him up pretty bad, along with all the other terrible shit that happened. 100% Slytherin especially in terms of “protect my own people first and probably nobody else second.”

Adopted younger brother to Wei Wuxian, biological younger brother to Jiang Yanli. Uncle to Jin Ling (see below).

Jiang Yanli: I’ll take “oldest daughter who doubled as parent figure” for 500, Alex. Jiang Yanli is relatively quiet and mild-mannered but she loves her brothers very much and will throw down for them in a pinch. Tends to wilt in the face of people treating her poorly; not very good at standing up for herself. A professional at taking care of other people and not herself (Wei Wuxian and she have this in common!). She dies and it really does a number on her siblings.

Oldest sister of Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng, wife of Jin Zixuan, mother of Jin Ling.

Jiang Fengmian & Yu Ziyuan: Parents of Jiang Yanli and Jiang Cheng and source of the above’s dysfunction, in a lot of ways. Jiang Fengmian plays favorites (with his adopted son Wei Wuxian) and takes out his feelings about his wife (complicated) by ignoring Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli. Madame Yu is straight up abusive; physically of Wei Wuxian, emotionally of everyone else. In her first appearance she walks into dinner and specifically targets everyone’s weak spots, demolishing three children emotionally in about two minutes, then leaves.

This family! It’s a disaster.

THE LAN SECT

Lan Wangji: Also known as Lan Zhan or Hanguang-jun. The other main character. Has a reputation for being very upright and righteous and rule-abiding; is that, sort of, but also kind of a socially awkward, deeply lonely boy who is trying to be a good person and thinks he can get there by following the right rules. Eventually figures out that’s not how it works. Doesn’t make friends easily but when he loves someone it is with all 500% of his heart.

His circle of people is very small, though. It’s kind of just two: his brother and Wei Wuxian. That’s all! Lan Wangji could use some friends, maybe.

He’s good! Also learns to rebel when appropriate, and “appropriate” especially involves things having to do with Wei Wuxian, for whom he will do just about anything, at least after he comes back from the dead. Before that it’s a little harder.

Younger brother of Lan Xichen, nephew of Lan Qiren, adopted father of Lan Sizhui, eventual husband to Wei Wuxian (see above).

Lan Xichen: Also known as Zewu-jun. He does have a birth name (everyone does!) but it doesn’t get used in canon. Also parented his younger brother (there’s a lot of sibling parents in this show!). Is the peacemaker, does not like conflict, diplomatic to a fault. Noticed how everyone else is very quick to jump to conclusions and decided he has to take all of the giving of the benefit of the doubt and good faith and “let’s wait and see and not jump to murder” because no one else is going to.

People in fandom give him a lot of shit for being stupid but he is not! He is just conflict-averse and cautious and inclined to reserve judgment on people. It just turns out that he happens to place his faith in the wrong person, which is to say Jin Guangyao. It does not work out. He ends up getting tricked/manipulated into killing Jin Guangyao by Nie Huaisang, and is about to stay and die with him when Jin Guangyao surprise pushes him away and thus saves his life.

At least one of the Lan brothers gets a happy ending!

Older brother of Lan Wangji, nephew of Lan Qiren, sworn brother/boyfriend of Jin Guangyao and Nie Mingjue.

Lan Qiren: Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen’s uncle who essentially raised them due to family dysfunction involving a mother who was basically on house arrest (because she killed someone??? not sure what happened there, information minimal) and their father seems to have been absent, and both died before series start. Rigid and hidebound, very much not a Wei Wuxian fan, very strict with both the Lan brothers and sometimes that involves corporal punishment and yelling.

There are no good parents or parent figures in this series.

Uncle to Lan Wangji and Lan Xichen.

Lan Sizhui: Also known as A-Yuan / Wen Yuan. Originally a Wen kid, first adopted by Wei Wuxian when he founded the commune with the Wen remnants, then adopted by Lan Wangji when everyone in his family was killed and also Wei Wuxian. Grew up a Lan with no memory of his past. Lan Sizhui has two dads.

Cousin/brother (??) to Wen Ning and Wen Qing, adopted son of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian.

Lan Jingyi: Sassmaster extraordinaire; the Lan kid who gets to say everything the rest of the Lans are holding back. Of the younger generation quartet formed by him, Lan Sizhui, Ouyang Zizhen, and Jin Ling. If a Lan kid in a scene is sassing someone, it’s Jingyi.

THE NIE SECT

Nie Mingjue: Also known as Chifeng-zun. Very strong opinions about right and wrong with not a whole lot of room for nuance. Formidable warrior. Anger issues, also daddy issues but we don’t get into those as much. Not exactly the friendliest of fellows but it’s not completely his fault, he’s being gradually poisoned by the malevolence of his own weapon. It’s a thing. Dies as a result of being poisoned by evil music courtesy of Jin Guangyao.

Sworn brother/boyfriend to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao. Older brother of Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang: Mastermind (sort of) of questionable morality, sometimes in order to get revenge for the murder of your older brother you have to wait ten years while building up a reputation as someone utterly useless, then get your old best friend resurrected as part of a series of dominoes meant to demolish your brother’s murderer’s entire life and reputation. Loves art and fans, not a fan of losing his mind to violent sabers as is traditional for the Nie Sect. Smarter than he wants you to think he is, and also just really good at winging it.

Younger brother of Nie Mingjue.

THE JIN SECT

Jin Guangshan: The actual worst. Sect Leader for the first half of the show. Should’ve been kicked down several sets of stairs; the world would’ve been a better place.

Father of Jin Zixuan, Jin Guangyao, Mo Xuanyu, and too many other bastards to list. Possibly Jin Zixun? I’m not clear on that.

Jin Zixuan: Disaster Straight. He comes off as aloof and arrogant but partly this is because he’s just really bad at interacting with people and incredibly awkward. Eventually marries Jiang Yanli after failing to express his feelings for 26 episodes. Shortly thereafter ends up dying when he’s fisted by Wen Ning (through the chest, you filthy animal).

Husband of Jiang Yanli, father of Jin Ling.

Jin Zixun: The other actual worst. When Jin Zixun is having fun no one else is, and when Jin Zixun is not having fun no one else is either. Just generally a tool. As far as I can tell has no redeeming qualities. His ambush of Wei Wuxian provokes the rolling disaster that results ultimately in the deaths of (in order) Jin Zixuan, Wen Qing, Jiang Yanli, and Wei Wuxian.

Cousin of Jin Zixuan.

Jin Guangyao: Also known as Meng Yao and Lianfang-zun, the former before he gets promoted by his absolute bastard of a dad. He’s complicated! A good boy, also responsible for a lot of the bad things that happen, with varying degrees of culpability depending on who you ask. Son of a (in everyone’s words, ever) prostitute, and he’s really got a problem with it. Made some valid points but also got possibly too much revenge on people who hurt him, including some preemptive revenge on people who might have. Does a lot of murder but mostly via other people or evil music. Gets kicked down the stairs twice, which if you ask me is a pretty good reason to be kinda worked up about things.

His hat is very silly and I will not pretend otherwise.

Dies at the end and it’s real sad, if you ask me. Incredibly gay for Lan Xichen, and who can blame him?

Son of Jin Guangshan, half brother of Jin Zixuan, sworn brother/boyfriend of Lan Xichen and Nie Mingjue.

Jin Ling: Part of the quartet of juniors including Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and Ouyang Zizhen. A mess of a child. (Half)-raised by Jiang Cheng and it shows. Spoiled brat but also just like. Brimming with loneliness and desperation for someone’s approval.

Son of Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, grandson of Jin Guangshan, nephew of Jiang Cheng and Jin Guangyao (and Wei Wuxian, and Mo Xuanyu, and too many other bastards to name, he’s got a lot of uncles).

Mianmian / Luo Qingyang: Mostly known as Mianmian, which is her nickname. She’s technically a servant but Jin Zixuan is her best friend. Ditches the Jin Sect when they start being jackasses about Wei Wuxian in a seriously epic mic drop moment. Actually lives to the end of the show which makes one female character!

THE WEN SECT

Wen Ruohan: The first Big Bad of the show. Pursuing world domination by the power of the Yin Iron, aka evil metal that lets you control corpses. It doesn’t go well for him.

Dies at the hands of Jin Guangyao - going, at the time, by Meng Yao.

Father of Wen Xu and Wen Chao.

Wen Xu: The oldest son of Wen Ruohan; he barely appears but he does exist. Or did, he doesn’t make it very long.

Wen Chao: Absolute worm of a human being. Like Draco Malfoy in early Harry Potter, but with more killing people. Dies an absolutely horrifying death courtesy of Wei Wuxian, but he did throw Wei Wuxian into a place he was supposed to horribly die in, so I don’t feel that bad for him.

Younger son of Wen Ruohan.

Wen Qing: Incredibly gifted physician, can probably fix anything, including transferring a golden core from one person to another which no one has ever done before. (That’s how Wei Wuxian’s ended up in Jiang Cheng.) Starts out as determinedly loyal to Wen Ruohan basically to protect Wen Ning and keep him safe, but keeps ending up helping our protagonists basically against her better judgment. This does not earn her any points with the Wens, and being a Wen does not earn her any points with anyone else.

Ends up getting swept up by Wei Wuxian when he finds her destitute in the street and they charge off to save her brother together. Subsequently lives in the Burial Mounds commune up until things go to shit and she goes to give herself up with Wen Ning in the hopes of mitigating damage after Jin Zixuan dies. She is executed.

Has a non-thing with Jiang Cheng because they’re very alike in ways that mean that, under the circumstances, they keep missing each other.

Older sister of Wen Ning, sister/cousin (??) of Lan Sizhui, adopted older sister of Wei Wuxian, sort of.

Wen Ning: Also known as Wen Qionglin, but like, once in canon. So you probably won’t see it much. Neither he nor his sister are actually related to Wen Ruohan - they’re from a branch of the family but serve him. Wen Ning doesn’t get to have a lot of nice things. He saves Wei Wuxian’s life (after Wei Wuxian saves his), and (along with Wen Qing) helps get Jiang Cheng out when he was captured by the Wens and protects Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng, and Jiang Yanli after their family and sect are killed.

After the Sunshot Campaign he is killed by Jin cultivators (or almost, it’s complicated) but brought back to unlife by Wei Wuxian. Unfortunately this makes him vulnerable to control to make him do things like, say, kill Jin Zixuan and Jin Zixun. He and Wen Qing go to be presumably executed in an attempt to mitigate the damage to Wei Wuxian/maybe?? save his life; Wen Ning gets kept in a dungeon for sixteen years and comes back when Wei Wuxian does.

Younger brother of Wen Qing. brother/cousin (??) of Lan Sizhui, adopted younger brother of Wei Wuxian, sort of.

Wen Zhuliu: Mysterious assassin/bodyguard of the Wens, we know almost nothing about his backstory save that he owes them some kind of debt and he and Yu Ziyuan seem to have some kind of history. The main thing is that he’s capable of destroying the golden core of cultivators, aka rendering them an ordinary person devoid of special powers, forever. Gets killed by Jiang Cheng, whose golden core he destroyed.

Various Wen Remnants: You don’t get a lot of individual characterization from these folks - basically they are the remains of the Wen Sect after the Wen Sect is defeated in the war (called the Sunshot Campaign) that forms the arc of the first part of the show. Pretty much everyone wants them dead. Wei Wuxian rescues them and takes them off to the Burial Mounds, where no one else wants to go, and builds a commune with them, which works for a while until it doesn’t anymore.

They all die. It’s bad.

YI CITY CREW

These got long because I felt like I had to explain more about plot stuff.

Xue Yang: The gremlin! Will cheerfully murder just about anyone at the drop of a hat, he doesn’t really need a reason. Driven initially by a revenge quest for the guy who crushed his finger when he was seven; he kills his whole family, which is a reasonable response when you think of your own life as worth significantly more than anyone else’s. Subsequently and also during fixated on Xiao Xingchen. Kind of a genius?? but he’s pretty low key about it.

Really involved with the plot in a lot of weird ways. Introduced Wen Ruohan to the Yin Iron and taught him how it functioned-ish, worked with Jin Guangyao for a while on necromancy stuff, after the inevitable betrayal ended up getting picked up by a now blind Xiao Xingchen (more on that later) and a-Qing, and lived with them in domestic semi-bliss for three years while also tricking Xiao Xingchen into murdering a lot of people, up to and including his sort-of-ex-boyfriend Song Lan. Turned Song Lan into a zombie, sort of. Fell apart when Xiao Xingchen died (killed himself, on account of Xue Yang demolishing his entire life, whoops) and spent the next decade or so trying to bring him back from the dead.

Dies messily, as you might guess, and I’m still sad about it.

Xiao Xingchen: Grew up on a secret mountain isolated from the rest of society, came down from the secret mountain to help make the world a better place, it really does not work out for him. Travels around for a while being best friends/boyfriends with Song Lan, getting poetry written about him; unfortunately then he and Xue Yang run into each other which is widely regarded as a bad move. Things get messy, Xiao Xingchen ends up with his eyes in Song Lan’s head and blind, he adopts a teenage con artist (see below) and rescues Xue Yang (who he doesn’t know is Xue Yang).

Three years of domestic bliss (sort of) ensue, with the wrinkle that while Xiao Xingchen’s sword Shuanghua can sense corpses so he can still hunt things, it has a glitch where sometimes the corpses it senses are in fact living people that Xue Yang has poisoned and cut out their tongues. Whoops.

After he kills Song Lan (whoops), Xiao Xingchen finds out from a-Qing who he’s been living with and, uh, is upset about it. Xue Yang drops the bomb of “oh yeah so you’ve been killing people this whole time and also! yeah! killed Song Lan too! eyyyy” upon which Xiao Xingchen, his entire world wrecked, kills himself and shatters his soul.

He ends the series basically fragments of soul in a little pouch being carried around by Song Lan. When I put it that way it sounds kinda funny but it’s really not.

A-Qing: Teenage con-artist who pretends to be blind and adopts Xiao Xingchen after stealing his money (he notices, but he also just gives it to her). Knew Xue Yang was bad news but didn’t know how bad. Smart cookie. Xue Yang blinds her and cuts out her tongue (he just loves doing that) after she tells on him to Xiao Xingchen; she gets her revenge by leading Wei Wuxian & co. to figuring out what’s going on, and ultimately enabling the first mortal-wounding of Xue Yang.

Unfortunately, also dies.

Song Lan: Also known as Song Zichen, rarely. A Daoist priest (I think that’s right?) and “rogue cultivator” (in the sense that he’s not affiliated with any sect). He is definitely affiliated with Xiao Xingchen. “Affiliated with.”

Ends up getting caught in the vortex of Xue Yang when his entire temple-family is killed and he’s blinded; says some harsh things and a guilty Xiao Xingchen trades out his eyes to pay him back for being the cause of Xue Yang targeting his temple, then vanishes. Song Lan spends the next long time trying to track him down, eventually finds him in mid-domestic bliss (sort of) with Xue Yang (yikes), promptly attempts to kill Xue Yang, ends up getting his tongue cut out and himself corpse-poisoned and killed by Xiao Xingchen, who thinks he is a random evil corpse instead of his best friend/ex-boyfriend. Xue Yang turns him into a zombie controlled by him. He gets better (from the control, he’s still a zombie).

Literally the only one of the Yi City Crew to make it out alive and he’s not technically alive.

MISCELLANEOUS OTHERS

Ouyang Zizhen: Part of the juniors quartet with Jin Ling, Lan Sizhui, and Lan Jingyi. A budding romantic. Very good, has the misfortune of having Sect Leader Ouyang as a dad, but at least it’s not Sect Leader Yao (see below).

Su She: Due to a confluence of factors having to do with jealousy but also class/rigid hierarchy issues, ends up as Jin Guangyao’s right hand henchman. He’s very loyal when you’re actually nice to him. Really doesn’t like Lan Wangji.

Sect Leader Yao: Mostly just there to have really bad opinions all of the time.

#anonymous #conversating #i can't believe i did this #the untamed #the sad queer cultivators show #a very biased account by me personally #but hey!!! hope it helps anon #long post for ts

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