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[captainsophiestark]

Worth The Risk

Jason Todd x Reader

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Written for Fictober 2024!

Fandom: DC

Day Twenty-Eight Prompt: "Just say what you want"

Summary: Jason's teammate has been trying to ask him out for a long time now, but he's always ducked the question before it's officially been asked. Now, it seems he's finally ready to talk about why.

Word Count: 1,955

Category: Fluff, little bit of Angst?

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I'm telling you, Art, I'm starting to go a little crazy! He'll flirt with me all day long, but the minute I try to turn it into a date or a kiss or even a fucking conversation, he pulls back like he's been shocked!"

I could hear Artemis, one of my best friends, trying to stifle a laugh on the other end of the line. I narrowed my eyes, but didn't call her out on it. I had bigger problems right now, as far as I was concerned.

"Okay, when you say you've tried to turn it into a conversation...?"

"I mean I've gotten as far as 'so, Jason, I've been thinking' before he suddenly has a call coming in from Bruce or an urgent cramp in his leg or a super interesting bird outside the window that he has to go look at right now!"

This time, Artemis didn't bother trying to hold back her laugh. I scowled even though she couldn't see it.

Jason Todd and I had been friends for a while now, working together as vigilantes. We'd hit it off from the first time we met, and our relationship had always been a little flirty. More recently, though, it had felt on the verge of something more. And I wanted that. I liked Jason, a lot, and I wanted to see where we might be able to go, if he was interested too.

Most of the time, it did seem like he was interested. But for whatever reason, he kept pulling a 180 on me and defaulting to more platonic behavior than we'd ever had with each other any time I tried to bring it up. I'd decided to talk to Artemis about it, to see if she could give me any advice or anything, but so far she'd been absolutely no help.

"Alright, Art, I'm glad I've been able to entertain you tonight, but can you please-"

I stopped short at the sound of a knock on my door. I frowned. I hadn't ordered anything, and I wasn't expecting anyone. So who the hell was at my apartment?

"Hey, you still there? You alright?"

I hummed, standing from my seat in the kitchen and heading for the door.

"I'm fine. Somebody just knocked on my door, hold on."

I leaned forward to peer through the peep hole, and to my immense shock, I saw Jason Todd standing on my doormat. After a few moments of stunned silence, I finally managed a few words into the phone.

"Yeah, Art? I think I'm gonna have to call you back."

I hung up without waiting for her reply. I'd owe her an explanation later, but I knew she'd understand. Whatever this was about, it seemed pretty serious. Jason had never once shown up at my civilian residence, despite both knowing each other's identities.

I cleared my throat and stuck my phone in my pocket, trying to get a handle on the nerves that had suddenly exploded in my chest. After a moment, I couldn't stall anymore. I took a deep breath and opened the door to find Jason fidgeting almost as much as I was.

"Hey," I said, giving him a weak smile. "What's... what's up? Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, everything's fine," Jason said, glancing down and rubbing at the back of his neck. "I just... wanted to talk to you. About something. Didn't want to wait till the next time I saw you on the rooftops, hunting somebody down. I hope that's okay."

"Yeah! Of course, yeah. Come on in."

I took a quick step back from the door, holding it open for Jason and trying not to let him see my nerves. He walked through, but stopped in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room, looking a little lost. All I could do was stare at him for a moment as I shut the door. It was strange to see Jason in the middle of my civilian apartment like this, but it was also the kind of strange I could get used to.

"Here, take a seat," I said, heading to the kitchen and motioning towards one of the stools at the counter. "Can I get you a water or something?"

Jason cleared his throat, moving with me after a moment's delay.

"A water would be great, actually. Thanks."

"Sure thing."

I used the time it took me to get some water from the fridge, with my back turned to Jason, to take a few deep breaths. I was a vigilante, for god's sake, I knew how to keep myself from panicking in stressful situations. I wasn't going to let this impromtu visit unravel me.

I returned to Jason with a water for each of us, then sat down at the stool next to his. I was still a little nervous, but my heart had at least stopped pounding quite so quickly, and my hands weren't shaking when I set down the waters.

"So... you wanna tell me what's up?"

Jason cleared his throat, shifting in his seat before meeting my eyes. I gave him a little smile, and it seemed to help him relax, at least slightly. He smiled back.

"Listen... I really like spending time with you. And working with you and talking to you and... and everything. And Roy has been telling me he's sick of listening to me talk about you, so I'm taking his advice and coming to talk to you."

My heart did a backflip in my chest, but I refused to get too far ahead of myself. Jason still looked grim and stressed out of his mind, like he did when I tried to ask him out, which didn't exactly match the positive topic I was hoping this conversation might have.

"So... what are you saying?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light. "Because it sounds like you're building up to one thing, but your tone and your body language is pointing to something very different. Are you trying to ask me on a date, or trying to tell me you're not interested."

"I'm not not interested," Jason responded quickly. I raised an eyebrow, but he looked more stressed than before.

"Okay... so then, what is it? Just say what you want, Jay."

Jason took a long, deep breath in, closing his eyes for a minute and apparently trying to get in the right headspace. When he finally opened his eyes again and met my gaze, he at least looked marginally calmer.

"I want to ask you out."

"...I feel like there's a but coming."

"...But... I don't know, I just feel like you should be fully informed. I'm not necesserily the most... stable potential partner. I'm still working through a lot of shit from before and after the Lazurus Pit, and I'm a regular letdown to my family. That whole experience... I think it broke something in me. And I've been trying to fix what it broke, but I'm not sure I can. I don't want you agreeing to a date or anything else without knowing exactly what you're getting into."

I frowned, which Jason seemed to take as an expected bad sign. His shoulders slumped a little, and he looked resigned. I shook my head.

"Jason... what the hell are you talking about?" Jason opened his mouth like he intended to speak, but I held up a hand to cut him off. "That was mostly a rhetorical question. Believe it or not, I've gotten to know you pretty well in the time we've spent together, working side by side in life and death situations and passing days upon days with each other. And frankly? I like you. A lot. If you hadn't sent up the signals for a hard no everytime I tried, I would've asked you out a long time ago."

Jason sighed. "I still feel like you don't know what you're getting into. I don't want to go down this road and have you end up regretting it and hating me."

"Okay," I said, letting out a sigh of my own. "First of all, let's clear something up. Not once have you disappointed me or let me down, not in all the time we've known each other and worked together, even though you've had plenty of opportunities. And Jay, I didn't know you as Robin. I don't know the old you that you're so intent on comparing yourself to. But the guy sitting in front of me right now? He refuses to see it, but he's a wonderful person and friend, and anyone would be lucky to date him."

Jason flushed and looked down at his lap, but I didn't stop.

"Second, if I ever hear Batman or another one of your family members calling you a disappointment, it's game over for them. I'm punching them in the mouth like they deserve, and that's the end of that."

Jason snorted, briefly picking his head up to give me a look. I grinned back at him.

"And third..." I let the smile fall from my face, adopting a serious expression instead as I gently reached out to take one of Jason's hands. To my delight, he let me. "Third, nobody knows how things're gonna go when they go on a date with somebody. There's no real predicting that, there's no garuntees that we'll be perfectly matched and instantly work out and never have trouble forever and ever. But I know you're a good person, and I love spending time with you, and I trust you with my life, and my heart likes to do a gymnastics routine whenever you're in the same room as me. So if you feel similarly about me, and you want to give it a shot...?"

Jason sighed, chewing on his lip for a moment as he stared at me. Finally, he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I really do."

"Good. Then that's that, Jay. There's no garuntees of anything, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. The only way to really lose is to let fear keep us from taking a shot at happiness, right?"

Jason shook his head, but he was smiling all the same as he took my other hand in his, too.

"I guess you do make a pretty convincing argument. But seriously, are you sure you want to do this? It... feels like it could lead to a lot of complications."

"Jason, I'm sure." I laughed. "Honestly, I have been for a long time now. Are you sure?"

I saw Jason take another bracing breath. Then he straightened, shoulders back, and gave me a genuine smile.

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"Great! Then what do you say we turn tonight into our first official date? I was just about to make dinner, and I've got some good movies we can pick from."

Jason's smile grew, taking on a little bit of an edge.

"That sounds perfect to me. As long as you promise to let me take you out for our second date. Somewhere nice."

"Believe it or not, that's not going to take too much convincing."

The two of us shared a smile again, and I gave Jason's hands a squeeze before standing and heading for the kitchen. He joined me, and when I stood at the counter to lay things out, Jason only hesitated for a second before coming up behind me to wrap his hands around my waist. He leaned in to place a soft kiss on my temple, and I leaned back, a smile on my face.

This time, my heart didn't do a backflip. Instead it radiated warmth through my chest and into the rest of my body. I knew we were at the beginning of our road, and there were no garuntees about what might be at the end of it. Still. I couldn't help having a good feeling.

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

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𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒

𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘹 𝘬𝘦𝘯𝘵!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘵 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯’𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩, 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘤! 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘴!

·.·´¯`·.·★·.·´¯`·.·

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖠 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇. 𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋, 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝖤𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝖽 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗉 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝗎𝗒 𝖺𝗇 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗍. 𝖠 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗑 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗁𝗒𝖺𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗁𝗌.

𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗀𝗇𝗂𝗓𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗉𝖾𝗋. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗋.

𝖤𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗄𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾.

𝖥𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝖦𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆, 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗂𝗀𝗇𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗂𝗋. 𝖥𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖾𝗌𝗌𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖻𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐��𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌. 𝖥𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗀𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋.

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖺 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗄𝖾𝗒𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗉 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗀𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗂𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗉𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝗆𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍, 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝖼𝖾𝗉𝗍 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗆 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒, 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆, 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗂𝗀𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁.

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗄-𝖼𝗅𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾. 𝖧𝖾’𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖿-𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾, 𝖺 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖻𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍-𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗋𝗍.

𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖽𝖺𝗆𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗁 𝖼𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾, 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖻𝖽𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇. 𝖧𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾.

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌. 𝖨𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇’𝗌 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗅𝗒, 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗒 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉.

“𝖧𝖾𝗒, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗀𝗀𝗒. “𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄?”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈.

𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆—𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝗌𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗉𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗍𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒 𝗈𝖿 𝘔𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽.

𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽.

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗆𝗌. 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇’𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗌, 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐��� 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐, 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗒.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗍 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖨 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍?” 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗌, 𝖺 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌.

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝗌𝖺𝗋𝖼𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍. 𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗎𝖽𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗅𝗒, 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗍.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖦𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇.

“𝖲𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍.” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖾, 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍, 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 ��𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗇𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗐. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍, 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌, 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗌. 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾.

“𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍. “𝖨 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍—𝖨 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨—“

“𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 ‘𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋,’” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝖺.

𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾, 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝗋𝖺𝗐𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗇, 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍, 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝗉𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌?”

“𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇—“

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗌, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌.

“𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽, 𝗌𝗈 𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗐𝖾’𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗅𝗎𝗆𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗍 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗂𝗆𝗆𝖾𝖽𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌, 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗇 𝖾𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾. 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗄𝗋𝗒𝗉𝗍𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖡𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗁 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒. 𝖨 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍,” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁, 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗎𝗅𝗍; 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝖽 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝗉 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆. 𝖧𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾.

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗌𝗇𝗂𝖿𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝖾𝖾𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗀𝗈,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗌, 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗎𝗉, 𝗎𝗇𝗆𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋.

“𝖳𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌. “𝖨𝖿 𝗂𝗍’𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗂𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒. 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖾𝖿, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗍𝗋𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝗀𝗀𝖺𝗀𝖾. 𝖭𝗈𝗐, 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝖺 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗅𝖽.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗈, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝖺𝗒𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽.

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖧𝖾 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌. 𝖡𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖽𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 𝗋𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽. 𝖫𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗉𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌, 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝖺. 𝖧𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗋, 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍. “𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖨 𝗐𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗂𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍—𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽. 𝖦𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗅𝗒, 𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗄. 𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾. 𝖤𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾.

𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗏𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗇𝗈𝖽. “𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈.”

“𝖮𝗄𝖺𝗒, 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗁.” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍. “𝖨’𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎.”

𝖦𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝖢𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖽𝗎𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗇𝗈𝗈𝗇𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖼𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗎𝗀𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾, 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾.

𝘑𝘢𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘗𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘥. 𝘉𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘚𝘰𝘯.

𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗄 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗅 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖠𝗍 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗆𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝖿𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌.

𝖲𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌, 𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾. 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝖺𝗆𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇. 𝖲𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍. 𝖨𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝖺𝗍 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗎𝖿𝖿𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗉𝗈𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗍𝗌, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝖺𝗐 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝖿 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈, 𝖺 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖾.

𝖲𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒, 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗎𝖿𝖿𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝖾𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝖾. 𝖧𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗆 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖿𝗈𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗉𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.

“𝖳𝗁𝖾𝗒’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗂𝖼𝖾,” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗌.”

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍?” 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖺 𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾.

“𝖮𝖿 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾 𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖺𝗒, 𝗇𝗎𝖽𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋. “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖬𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗁𝖺 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗆𝗌 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖺𝗓𝖾𝖻𝗈, 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗎𝖽𝗌 𝖻𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖾𝗇𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾.”

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗀𝗀𝖾𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌,” 𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌, 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖠 𝖻𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗌𝗌𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁. 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾, 𝗋𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗍��𝗂𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖼𝗎𝗋𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾.

“𝖨 𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍, 𝗇��𝗍 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈𝖽𝖺𝗒. 𝖨’𝖽 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖨 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗎𝖼𝗄𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎.”

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖺𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗏𝖾 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗅𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗁𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝖻𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍.

𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗏𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝖿𝖿𝗂𝗇, 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖼𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗂𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖺 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗍 𝖻𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖿𝖾𝖺𝗋. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖾𝖾𝗓𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽, 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾, 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗂𝖼 𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈.

𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗈𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗉𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖼𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝗉𝗈𝗈, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗆𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖼𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖼𝖾𝗌𝗌.

“𝖨’𝖽 𝖿𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖬𝖾𝗍𝗋𝗈𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗂𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗆𝗒 𝖽𝖺𝗒,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾. “𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗀𝗈𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖨 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗃𝗈𝖻 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖦𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝖦𝖺𝗓𝖾𝗍𝗍𝖾. 𝖨–𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖨 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝖿 𝖨 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗌𝗂𝖻𝗅𝖾.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗐𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎. 𝖬𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗂𝗓𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗅𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗌𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖿𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾. 𝖤𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗆𝗈𝗅𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇, 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗄𝗌.

𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋, 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗐𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗐𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍 𝖻𝗈𝖻𝗌 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗋𝗒, 𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗍 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗅𝖿.

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍.

“𝖨 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍,” 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗆𝗎𝗋𝗌.

“𝖨 𝗇𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾.” 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝖺𝗅𝖾, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗅𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗁 𝗌𝗁𝗋𝗎𝗀.

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺 𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝖼𝗁𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗌 𝗎𝗉 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝖺𝗍. “𝖦𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝖨’𝗆 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾.”

“𝖭𝗈, 𝖨 𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗒, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗆𝗈𝗋 𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗂𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. “𝖦𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝘶𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍.”

𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍, 𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝗋𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝖨𝗍 𝗋𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗂𝗅𝖾.

“𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.” 𝖧𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄, 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎. “𝖣𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗆𝖾.”

“𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖿𝗎𝗇𝗇𝗒, 𝖩𝖺𝗒,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗅𝖽, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗉𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝗌𝗆𝖺𝗅𝗅, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍.

𝖧𝖾 𝗉𝗎𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽, 𝖻𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗈𝖿𝖿 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗉𝖺𝗇𝗍𝗌. 𝖧𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗍𝗂𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗋𝖺𝗆𝖾. 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

“𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗇𝖺 𝗀𝗈 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍,” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌, 𝗈𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎.

𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾, 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗇𝗈𝖽 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖿𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗒. “𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁.”

𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗀𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗎𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝖺𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌. 𝖧𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗋𝖺𝗏𝖾. 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍.

“𝖢𝖺𝗇 𝖨 𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋𝗌,” 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗌𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍𝗅𝗒, 𝖿𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

“𝖸𝖾𝖺𝗁, 𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍,” 𝖩𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝖾𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖾. “𝖠𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍.”

·.·´¯`·.·★·.·´¯`·.·

@shum4chers @harleycao @legoyass

[jasonstodger]

Could u write a fluff/angst piece where Jason breaks into the wrong house or something but ends up staying & bonds with the reader over having scars and shared trauma?

jkajskajksja YES YES YES! Thank you for the ask, anon <3

"UNCORRUPT ME"

pairing: Jason Todd x ungendered!reader

summary: non-graphic smut | scars | referenced child abuse | trauma bonding | awkwardness

word count: 1.9k

“What are you doing in my room?”

The figure stares at you, their face masked, void of emotion. Unreadable. 

“You didn’t lock the window,” he says. His voice is rich and deep, and so, so rough it almost burns. “You… are not who I expected to see.”

You stare at them nervously. You’re sat up in your bed, your dorm a dingy, dark envelope of self-pity. Those searching white lenses trail over you, lingering on the many thick, deep white scars, jagged and cruel, that litter your stomach and ribs like rivers of silver over your skin.

“What do you want? I have no money. I’m a student.” Your voice is eerily calm, your heart beating uncomfortably in your chest as the figure takes a heavy step towards you.

“I’m not here for money,” comes the thick reply. His boots slide across your floor again. “What happened to you?”

You swallow, thick and uncomfortable, wetting your lips. You can’t see the man’s eyes beneath his mask. It’s unsettling: “My father tried to kill me 6 years ago. He stabbed me 34 times.”

Your voice is quiet and void of emotion as you repeat the tragedy that continues to haunt you. The figure regards you silently.

“Why did he try to kill you?”

“Who are you?” You ask, little louder than a whisper.

“I’m…” he hesitates. “Jason Todd.”

You rub your sleep-tired eyes, looking at him through the darkness. “Aren’t you dead?”

“I was. But I’m better now,” he says again in his low timbre. He approaches cautiously, scanning the scars on your body. “Your father isn’t here now, is he?”

“He’s in Arkham. They fried his brains.”

“I see.” He continues to stare at you, and you can almost feel his palpable need to take your pain away. “You don’t have anyone with you tonight?”

You stare at him silently, your cheek twitching at the irony of his words. “No one wants to go home with the chick who’s dad sliced her up.”

Silence. And then:

“I’d go home with you.”

You grin wrlyly, but there is no happiness there. “The man who broke into my dorm says he’d go home with me. Tell me why that doesn’t fill me with comfort?”

“Because I broke into your dorm.”

“Bingo.”

He creeps closer. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Okay,” you whisper, watching him closely.

“... Can I kiss you?”

His mask is lit by the moonlight as he kneels down in front of you, the hard edges of the helmet glistening. Your eyes soften, heart skipping a beat.

“No.”

“I understand,” he says lowly. He continues to stare at you, the mask making it impossible to see any subtle facial changes. But his voice grows gentle. “Would you… let me stay with you tonight?”

“Why?” you whisper, voice shaky.

“You look lonely.”

“I’m used to it.”

“Just because you’re used to it doesn’t make it okay,” he says softly. 

“I could say the same to you about breaking into people’s homes.”

He tilts his head. “Maybe,” he decrees, and he motions to the spot on the your bed beside you. “May I?”

You stare at him for a moment, trying to decipher him. “... okay.”

He shuffles under the covers, not touching you. For a while, you both lie there in silence.

“My name’s y/n,” you say suddenly, gently. 

“I’m Jason,” he replies.

“Yeah… you’ve said that.”

“Oh. Sorry.” He looks at you, trying to find the right thing to say and do. 

Your voice becomes quiet. “It’s okay,” Your legs touch, and you swallow. “Do you have scars, Jason?”

“Yes.” His voice is low, and he keeps his gaze low too. Like he can’t bring himself to look at you.

“Cool.”

“Is it cool? I guess… it’s cool how similar we are. We’re both people broken by the world.”

You don’t reply for a moment, sinking into the bed. You can feel him beside you. It’s strangely comfortable, despite knowing nothing about him. But you can understand that he’s also damaged goods… Just like you. He reaches out, fingertips touching your arm: “We don’t have to talk, if you don’t want to.”

“I don’t mind talking,” you say quietly. “It’s a good distraction.”

He appraises you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Okay.”

“Why’d you let me stay?”

You glance at him, his face obscured by the dark and his mask. “I think I was hoping you’d finish the job,” you admit, quiet and vulnerable.

“I’m not here to do that. I’m not supposed to be here at all.”

“That’s alright,” you whisper. 

He pauses, thinking about his next words. “Have you ever wanted to get back at the person that hurt you?”

“I think about killing my dad everyday,” you admit, and your pinkies brush gently against each other.

“Would it make you happy, y/n? If you did?”

“No…”

“Why not?”

“It wouldn’t change anything. I’d still be scarred.”

“Yeah…” he turns his body in your direction, moving a little closer. You turn your head to face him. “Can I hold you tonight? I… I’d like to feel what it’s like to hold someone again.

“Okay,” you whisper, a little emotional.

He rolls over and pulls you into a warm embrace. He holds you, not wanting to let go. His body radiates heat, and he rests his head against yours. Your hair brushes his skin, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. 

In that moment, you’re both content.

You wrap your arms around him, pressing into his warmth as you, too, close your eyes. “This is nice.”

“You feel good,” he whispers into your hair, his hand caressing your face gently.

You smile, small and sad. “So do you.”

He shifts his body, moving even closer to you. His hips move against yours gently. It’s like nothing in the world matters except that your skin is touching his. Your breathing becomes a little ragged, and you both stay like that for a few moments, just breathing and touching.

You cradle his jaw in your hand, tracing the grooves of his mask, moving to take it off: “Can I?”

“... sure.”

You gently peel off his mask, revealing his face. You stare at him in the dingy lighting, and your fingers brush over the ‘J’ scar carved into his cheek. His breathing speeds up a little bit. Scars are a reminder of when a person is at their weakest. To be allowed to touch them by someone just as damaged as you… so tender and sweet… it feels like blasphemy. 

“You’re very beautiful,” you say quietly.

“So are you,” he whispers back, his hand moving to touch the long scars on your chest. Your breath hitches, almost inaudible.  He moves his fingers back and forth, tracing the ragged lines of raised skin, watching you to see how you react. Your heart races under his hand. “You’re so soft… can I… can I do more?”

You swallow. “If you’d like.”

His body moves against yours, and you press yourselves together, your breaths becoming laboured. His hand moves from the scars on your chest, down towards your hips. You rut against each other, clothed and urgent.

You can feel his body pressed against yours, and it’s like the weight of the world is leaving you. You feel alive for the first time in a long time. And you want to make him feel the same way. Your hand reaches beneath his clothes, feeling the heat and tension building between you. 

He lets out a shaky gasp, your bodies moving slowly against each other. You can feel him, and he can feel you. You both breathe harder and harder, your breaths catching in your throats, as your eyes stare into each other’s souls. 

You can feel everything. Every heartbeat, every sigh, every breath, every twitch and moan. And you know he can feel it too, as your bodies begin to move faster, harder. The two of you are together in that moment, and the world shrinks away.

You move with more urgency, writhing against each other like testy teens. Bodies move as one, your hands searching for every sensitive and intimate spot. There is no more doubt or fear or anger. Just two broken individuals finding each other in the night.

The heat and sweat of your bodies mingles - two shattered and lonely souls finding something less than love in each other, just for a moment. Your heart beats in your ears. 

He breathes quietly against your neck, moaning lowly with each move you make, and his free hand tangles at the back of your head, holding you against his skin as the pressure builds between you.

“Jason,” you moan quietly into his throat. Just for the while, you feel whole. He presses against you, desperately, breath catching in his throat, louder and more needy with each grunt and muffled whine.

Everything else disappears, and the world falls away.

There’s only the two of you - two people alone in the dark, broken and damaged, finding each other and trying to fix what’s left. 

When you finish, you don’t cry out. There is a sharp exhale, and a tightening of muscles. Jason shudders as he grips you tightly, and he holds you, his body sliding against you for a few seconds longer, before he slowly pulls away. Neither of you say anything for a moment as you pant and try to catch your breath. 

The silence is interrupted only by your breathing, soft and quick breaths as you lie still in each other’s arms. You can feel his heart beating beating hard against your own chest, as if it’s still trying to keep up with the rush. 

You’re not sure what to say, staring at him with lidded eyes. “That was… nice.”

He nods his head. You’re not sure if nice covers it, because right now you feel more alive than you have in years. But you don’t say this. You’re not used to feeling this way. 

You don’t want to ruin it.

“You should probably go to sleep,” Jason says quietly.

“Will you still be here when I wake up?” you ask gently, knowing the answer already.

“No. I have to go,” he whispers. The answer is more brutal thant you’d expected. He tries to smile at you, but it feels like a lie. “I’m sorry.”

“I thought so,” you say, choked.

“I…” he searches for something to say, taking your hand in his and caressing your skin with his thumb. “I want to stay with you. For a moment longer.”

“I don’t want to fall asleep,” you admit quietly.

“Can I ask you one last thing?” 

“Yes.”

He caresses your face gently with his hand. “Can I… kiss you? Before I go?”

You swallow, leaning closer. “I… yes.”

And he does. He kisses you passionately, like that moment means everything. Like he doesn’t want tonight to end. He closes his eyes and lives in your lips, enchanted by your breath on his skin. There’s a moment, there, when you almost forget who are, where you are: You lose yourself in him.

“I’m glad you decided to break into my dorm,” you whisper as your lips part, bittersweet. You sound fragile.

“Me too.” He looks at you, wishing he could stay. But you know he can’t. “I should go.”

You nod silently, and he gets up slowly, regrettably. He watches you as he backs away. 

“Bye, Jason,” you say quietly, staring at him from your bed.

“Goodbye, y/n. I… I won’t forget you. Thank you.”

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

baby daddy (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Some blood and stuff

Word Count: 7.1k

A/N: I'll be so honest, this was way better in my head lol my execution needs work because aint no way this is 7k words and im still not satisfied perhaps this would be best as a series? but tbh i dont think i can write much more than this

It's based on this post from @batbusiness-schooldropout

"Alright, who the hell snitched?"

Jason stormed into the Batcave, helmet tucked under his arm, pissed.

Tim barely looked up from the Batcomputer, "What are you talking about?"

Jason gestured wildly, "I just had a fun little run-in with a couple of GCPD officers who very politely informed me that I have an outstanding legal matter that needs my attention. Which is news to me because I don’t exactly file taxes or have jury duty, so what the hell are they trying to pull?"

Tim blinked, "You have a warrant?"

"That’s what I’m asking you!" Jason snapped.

Tim, now curious, spun back to the screen, "Alright, let’s check."

He typed in Red Hood and cross-checked it with Gotham’s legal system. A few minor infractions came up—nothing serious—but then…

There it was.

Tim frowned, "Huh."

Jason narrowed his eyes, "What?"

"It’s… not a warrant," Tim said slowly, "It’s a summons."

Jason crossed his arms, "For what?"

Tim clicked on the file. A scanned document popped up, the words 'LEGAL NOTICE' at the top.

"Looks like someone filed you as a legal guardian," Tim muttered, "Gotham’s courts have been trying to notify you for a while now. They probably flagged it to GCPD just to get it on your radar."

Jason scoffed, "Guardian? Of who?"

Tim clicked again, "A kid named Aria (L/N)."

Jason frowned, "That name means nothing to me."

Tim went still.

Jason’s stomach sank, "...What?"

Tim very slowly turned the screen toward him.

Jason stared.

Child’s Name: Aria (L/N) Mother: (Y/N) (L/N) Father: Red Hood

His brain just stopped working.

Dick, passing by with his coffee, glanced at the screen, "Oh, damn. Jay, you finally settling down?"

Jason whipped around to glare at him, "I don’t know this woman! I don’t have a kid!"

"Legally, you do." Tim pointed out.

Jason turned back to the screen, rubbing his temples, "Why is my life like this?"

Tim scrolled further, "Looks like the mother put your name down instead of the real father’s. And since Gotham courts don’t do DNA tests without permission from both parents… that guy got screwed out of custody."

Jason clenched his jaw, "And now they’re trying to find me because I’m on record as the dad."

Tim squinted at the file, then choked.

Jason looked at him warily, "...What?"

Tim covered his mouth, trying so hard not to laugh, "There's a comments section."

Jason leaned over his shoulder, eyes scanning the document. Then he saw it.

Additional Comments: "He kept the helmet on the whole time."

The Cave went dead silent.

Jason stared. Tim bit his lip. Dick was turning red trying not to lose it.

Then—

Tim wheezed.

Dick howled.

Jason smacked his forehead against the Batcomputer, "I hate everything."

He then exhaled sharply, cutting off his mental breakdown before muttering, "Okay. Fine. I’ll go find the mother and figure this out."

Dick snickered, "Tell Aria Daddy’s coming home."

Jason threw a batarang at him.

***

"Hi, honey, I'm home."

The distorted, robotic voice from his helmet made you freeze in place. Your pulse thundered in your ears, dread settling like a stone in your stomach. You knew exactly why the Red Hood was in your apartment.

You turned slowly, keeping your hands in sight as if that would make a difference, "Please, don't. My daughter is in the next room. She only has me."

"Don't you mean our daughter?" He bit out, sarcasm cutting through the voice modulator.

Despite whatever anger he held toward you, he hesitated, feeling pity. You must have looked terrified.

"I'm not here to hurt you," He said after a beat, "I just want an explanation."

You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to stay calm, "Her father is an asshole. I couldn’t let him have any rights over her, so I wrote your name down on all her documents. Gotham has no way of verifying, so they just had to take my word for it."

You met his gaze, your voice steady despite the situation, "I’m sorry if I made things complicated for you, but this was the only way I knew to keep his hands off her."

Jason exhaled sharply, shifting his weight, "How long did you think this would go unnoticed?"

You hesitated before answering, "Well… 'our' daughter turned five last month, so I figured you weren't going to find out anytime soon. Guess I was wrong."

You knew of Red Hood. You knew what he stood for. No matter what, he would never hurt a child. Ever. And if the rumors about him were true, then he would realize that you had only been acting in Aria’s best interest.

He studied you, the lenses of his helmet unreadable, but you could feel the weight of his scrutiny. This was an invasion of privacy—probably illegal, even—but instead of anger, he seemed... intrigued. You weren’t what he expected. You were clever, maybe even reckless, but clearly devoted to your daughter.

And—if he was being honest—pretty. Definitely pretty.

"Why me?" He finally asked, "Why not any of the other Bats?"

You shrugged, "Of all of them, you seemed like the least likely for civil court to track down." That much was true—any time someone tried to drag Red Hood into Gotham’s legal system, he either ignored it or laughed in their face before firing a warning shot.

"You're also the scariest, aside from Batman. And I didn’t want him getting any ideas about recruiting Aria for his next child vigilante project once Robin retires again." You smirked, "Lastly, having a baby daddy without a no-kill rule seemed like a great way to keep that deadbeat asshole far, far away from us."

Jason flat-out laughed at that. The sound, even through the voice modulator, carried warmth.

"You make an excellent argument," He admitted.

You relaxed slightly, "I am sorry. If I knew it was going to bother you, I never would have done it."

He shrugged, completely unbothered, "Doesn’t bother me. You were doing right by your kid. I can respect that."

Relief washed over you, and you smiled. You didn’t push the conversation further—if he wanted to be taken off her documents, he’d ask.

Instead, he surprised you.

"Can I meet her?"

Your breath caught, "Who? Aria?"

"I mean, legally, she’s my kid, right? That means I have visitation rights."

Apprehension prickled at the edges of your mind. Had you just swapped out one danger for another? You had gone to great lengths to keep Aria safe from one man—had you unknowingly invited another into her life?

Jason seemed to sense your hesitation. "You can say no," He said, almost gently, "But I just found out I have a daughter today. I’d like to meet the girl who made you pull a stunt this reckless and brave."

You could say no. You probably should say no.

And yet, as you looked at the masked man standing in your too-small living room, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

"...Okay," You said at last, "But you might want to take off the mask. She scares easy."

Jason chuckled, low and amused. You half-expected him to refuse, to make some offhanded comment before declining the invitation and leaving, but instead, you heard the soft click as he unlocked his helmet and pulled it off.

Dark, slightly messy hair with a single white streak. Stormy blue eyes. Sharp cheekbones and full lips.

"Wow," You breathed before you could stop yourself.

He raised a brow.

You cleared your throat, cheeks warming, "I can see where our daughter gets her good looks from."

Jason snorted, shaking his head.

"Aria, honey!" You called, turning toward her room, "Come out for a second, please!"

The door creaked open, followed by the soft pitter-patter of tiny feet. Aria emerged in a pink tutu, a plastic wand in her hands, and a sparkly tiara perched on her head.

She blinked up at Jason with wide, curious eyes.

"This is Mommy’s friend, Red Hood," You told her, "He wanted to say hi."

Aria beamed, "Hi, Mr. Hood!" She grabbed the edges of her tutu and curtsied, just like the princesses in her favorite cartoons.

You glanced at Jason. His expression had softened, the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. For a man who had probably seen the worst the world had to offer, he looked completely in awe.

Jason, the Red Hood—the most terrifying name in Gotham’s underworld—cleared his throat, gripping his helmet a little tighter.

"Uh. Hi there." He said, voice definitely shaking.

You bit your lip, looking down to hide your smile.

This huge crime lord, who had probably seen more murders tonight than you had in your entire life, was nervous talking to a five-year-old.

Aria giggled, "You talk funny."

Jason blinked, "I do?"

She nodded, "Your voice is all rumbly! Like Batman!"

Jason made a very undignified sound, "I am nothing like Batman, princess."

Aria gasped dramatically, "You know Batman?!"

***

Jason didn’t know exactly how he ended up in this position.

After that first meeting with Aria, he’d been more than ready to let you both get back to your lives. You had only put his name down as Aria's father to scare off her real father; he had no place here.

And yet.

When he found himself alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling, or in the rare moments of silence while working on cars, his mind drifted. He’d think about Aria—her wide, innocent eyes staring up at him, the way she had curtsied like a damn princess, completely unafraid of the man Gotham whispered about in fear.

An unfamiliar squeeze tugged at his heart.

He had a daughter.

And the more he thought about her, the more he wanted to protect her—to keep that innocence untouched, to make sure she was safe and happy. He wanted to be a father.

Then, inevitably, his thoughts turned to you.

You hadn't spoken for long, but somehow, you’d managed to stick in his mind. Despite it being the end of the day, exhaustion tugging at you, there had been a light in your eyes—something warm, something alive. He found himself drawn to it.

The confidence in your posture, the way you had no trouble meeting his eyes, the sheer sass you had thrown his way despite knowing exactly who he was. And above all, the love and protectiveness you had for Aria.

You were nothing like anyone he had ever met before.

A couple of days later, he found himself knocking at your door again.

He had told himself it was just to check on Aria after a Joker attack. That was reasonable, right? He had to make sure she was safe. That’s all it was.

You had offered him dinner. He declined.

Then, a couple of days after that, he found himself there again—this time after a Poison Ivy incident.

You offered him dinner again.

This time, he obliged.

That night, he sat at your dinner table with you and Aria, listening as she excitedly told him about school. He learned about your job, about the little details of your life, and—much to his amusement—was introduced to what Aria called the greatest meal in the entire world.

Hello Kitty-shaped pasta.

He raised a brow at you.

You shrugged, "It’s expensive, but it makes her happy."

Jason huffed a small laugh, "What’s the special occasion?"

Aria beamed, practically vibrating in her seat.

"I got made line leader today!" She announced proudly.

You glanced at her with a mix of amusement and pride, eyes warm, "It’s a big deal."

Jason turned to Aria, his chest tightening at the way she puffed herself up with pride. Without thinking, he reached out and ruffled her hair like it was second nature.

"Good job, princess," He murmured.

Her entire face lit up.

And just like that, Jason Todd was done for.

It had been two months since Jason first met the both of you, and now, sitting at the dinner table, he was experiencing his first real parental crisis.

It was obvious that Aria was in a bad mood.

She barely touched her food, half-heartedly pushing it around her plate. Even when you suggested ordering takeout—usually a foolproof way to lift her spirits—she just shook her head. You and Jason exchanged a concerned glance over her head.

Something was clearly wrong.

You sighed, resigning yourself to the hope that she’d tell you before bed or at least over breakfast tomorrow.

"I'm just gonna go take a shower, do you mind?" You asked, gesturing toward Aria.

Jason didn’t hesitate before nodding.

You smiled gratefully, pressing a kiss to Aria’s crown before leaning over and doing the same to Jason.

A month ago, that would’ve made him jump out of his skin. Now, after two months of shared dinners—some planned, others happening more naturally—he only sat there, heart racing in his chest, pretending that wasn’t the highlight of his day.

When he heard the shower turn on, he turned to Aria with a mischievous grin.

"Okay, Mom’s in the shower. What do you say to ice cream for dinner?"

Jason liked to pretend you had no idea whenever he and Aria snuck ice cream together. But ever since he convinced you to let him make homemade ice cream with protein shakes and sneaky healthy ingredients, you had stopped putting up much of a fight. Besides, he wasn’t exactly subtle. If he didn’t outright tell you, the dirty dishes in the sink were more than enough of a giveaway.

More than anything, though, he just wanted Aria to eat something.

But tonight, instead of the excited little gasp she usually gave, Aria just frowned.

"Mommy doesn’t like that."

"Princess," He said more gently, shifting in his seat, "is something wrong? You love ice cream. And Mom made one of your favorites tonight, but you’re not eating, and…" His voice softened, "That makes me sad."

Aria hesitated for a few seconds before pushing her plate away and sliding off her chair. Jason tensed, heart thudding slightly faster. Shit, did I upset her? Is she about to cry?

But she didn’t.

Instead, she ran off, returning moments later with her pink Barbie backpack. She unzipped it and rifled through its contents before pulling out a slightly crumpled piece of paper and handing it to him.

Jason smoothed the paper out.

And felt his stomach drop.

Daddy-Daughter Day!

"My teacher told us to give it to our parents," Aria said quietly, her lip trembling, "So our daddies can come visit one day."

She fidgeted, looking down at her hands.

"But… I don’t have a daddy."

And just like that, Jason Todd’s heart broke in two.

***

When you came out of the shower, towel-drying your hair and now dressed in your pajamas, you immediately looked around for Aria.

"She didn’t really want to eat, so I just put her to bed," Jason informed you.

You sighed, sinking into a chair at the dining table, "Do you think I should call her teacher tomorrow and ask if something happened? Maybe someone was being mean to her at school?"

Wordlessly, Jason slid a folded piece of paper across the table toward you. You furrowed your brows and picked it up, unfolding it to read.

Your face immediately darkened.

"This can’t be right!" You hissed, voice sharp with anger. "I thought schools had outfashioned practices like this! What happened to inclusivity and all that crap? What about kids with two moms? Or no parents at all? I’m calling up the school. I’m gonna be a full-blown Karen. I’m gonna—"

"(Y/N)—"

"No, Jason, this isn’t okay!"

Despite your fury, you kept your voice down for Aria’s sake. Jason wasn’t sure if you were about to explode or just strain your vocal cords with your whispered screams. But then, just as suddenly as your anger had flared, you seemed to fizzle out.

You slumped back into your chair, rubbing your face with trembling hands.

"I’ve done everything I can to make sure Aria never feels the absence of a father," You murmured.

"I’ve tried. I’ve—" Your voice cracked.

You let out a shaky breath and shielded your face with your hands, "My poor baby. I can’t believe she held onto this all day without telling me."

Jason think twice before he pulled you into his arms, letting you rest your head against his neck as you composed yourself.

After a moment, he spoke, "Look, I know it might not be the same, but… I was thinking. What if I attended the event with Aria?"

You stiffened, then slowly pulled back, meeting his eyes. Your expression wasn’t hopeful—it was guarded.

Jason’s stomach soured.

"Jay, I know we’ve been having a good time lately, but you can’t do that to Aria," You said, shaking your head, "If you go to this event as her dad, she’s going to see you as that. And you can’t—you can’t do that to her."

Jason swallowed hard. His voice was quieter when he asked, "What if I wanted to? To be seen as her dad? Would that really be so terrible?"

You didn’t answer.

You just stood up from the table and walked away.

Jason almost would have laughed at how much you resembled Aria in that moment if he didn't feel his stomach sinking to his feet.

But just like Aria, you also came back.

Clutched in your hands was a camera. You placed it in front of him, watching as he stared at you with unsure eyes.

"I record all of Aria’s school events," You said softly. "Don’t miss a second of it."

Jason blinked. Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face.

Before you could react, he grabbed you and twirled you around the kitchen.

You let out a surprised squeal before bursting into giggles, clinging onto his shoulders. But then, realization hit.

You were definitely not wearing a bra.

Your giggles faded, and Jason froze as well, both of you suddenly very aware of how close you were. You stared at each other, identical blushes creeping up your cheeks.

You cleared your throat.

"You can—um—you can put me down now."

***

It was almost comical how small the classroom was.

Jason had to duck his head to step inside, barely squeezing through the low doorframe. The room was packed—about fifteen other dads crammed into tiny plastic chairs that looked like they could barely support one ass cheek. Jason didn’t even bother trying. Instead, he just lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs as he settled in.

The dads around him nodded politely as they all waited for the teachers to finish setting up and taking attendance.

"I don’t think I’ve seen you around before," A man beside him said, shifting his son in his lap, "I’m David."

"Jason," He replied, shaking his hand with a firm but polite grip.

"This is Harry," David continued, gesturing to the little boy who peeked up at Jason shyly before quickly burying his face in his dad’s shirt. Jason chuckled.

"So, which one’s yours?"

Jason glanced across the room, "Over there, in the book corner."

David followed his gaze. In the far corner, a little girl in denim dungarees rifled through a stack of picture books with a very serious expression, clearly determined to find a specific one. Jason had picked out her outfit today—he’d even let her wear the tiara she refused to take off, despite your insistence that it was an inside toy.

No doubt, she was making a mess that her poor teacher would have to clean up later.

David frowned, "Who?"

"The one with the tiara," Jason said.

David's confusion deepened, "Aria?"

Jason’s brows furrowed, "Yeah."

"Aria (L/N)?"

"Yes."

David blinked, "I—I didn’t know you were—I thought (Y/N) was single."

Jason’s expression darkened. A phantom of a scowl flickered across his face before he forced himself to relax. He wasn’t about to scare off the other parents at an event that was supposed to be important for Aria.

"She isn’t," He said simply.

David paled, "Oh. Uh—sorry." He quickly bowed his head, clearly embarrassed.

Jason smirked, barely hiding his haughty attitude. So what if he told a little white lie? It wouldn’t do any harm for Dave—or Dan, or whatever his name was—to keep his sights off you.

Really, you deserved better than some average, boring guy who probably filed his taxes early and grilled chicken without seasoning. Someone like that wouldn’t know how to handle you. He wouldn’t know how to make you laugh when you were stressed, wouldn’t know how to handle your sass, wouldn’t know how to love you the way you deserved.

No, you needed someone confident. Someone strong. Someone who could protect you and Aria. Someone with a soft side, sure, but also someone who wasn’t afraid to fight for you. Someone who would go to hell and back if it meant keeping you both safe.

Someone like…

Oh.

Jason's smirk faltered for half a second before he recovered, clearing his throat and forcing himself to focus on Aria, who was still knee-deep in her book hunt.

Well. That was something to unpack later.

***

"Now, all together, everyone! On the count of three—one, two, three!" the teacher announced cheerfully.

A chorus of tiny voices rang out.

"I love you, Dad!"

It was loud, chaotic, a jumble of high-pitched shouts that somehow blended into something warm and sweet. Parents chuckled, kids giggled, the room filled with laughter and joy.

But Jason’s heart sank.

While the other kids beamed up at their fathers, Aria clutched the handmade card in tight fists, her knuckles white. She kept her head down, lip wobbling, shoulders trembling as she struggled to say the words.

Jason knelt in front of her, his heart twisting. God, she’s so small. Both of her tiny hands barely covered his palm as he gently took them in his own.

"You don’t have to say it if you don’t want to, Aria," He told her softly, "I’m not going to force you to do anything. Just know that I love you very much, princess. That’s enough for me."

She finally looked up at him, somehow seeming even smaller despite the fact that he was kneeling. Her big, glassy doe eyes searched his face.

"You really love me?" She asked in the quietest whisper.

"More than anything, baby."

The words slipped out before he could stop them, before he could think about the weight they carried. About what it might mean for a little girl who had spent her whole life without a father.

For a moment, she just stared at him. Jason barely had time to register the emotion in her eyes before she launched herself at him, tiny arms wrapping tightly around his neck. She burrowed against him, her small frame pressing against his chest as she whispered into his ear—

"I love you, Daddy."

Jason felt his breath catch in his throat.

Oh. Oh.

He squeezed her tighter, pressing his face into her soft curls, "I love you too, princess," He murmured, voice thick with something he wasn’t ready to name.

And for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd felt like he belonged.

***

Aria had been absolutely beaming after Daddy-Daughter Day, her excitement carrying her through the evening—especially since Jason had taken her to the park afterward. She had barely managed to get through telling you about her day, slurring her words sleepily as you tucked her into bed.

You pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, smoothing down her hair before stepping away, only to find Jason waiting for you in the doorway.

You smiled at him, reaching for his hand and leading him back to the living room. Without a word, you poured him a glass of wine, knowing that, even though he wouldn’t admit it, the day at her kindergarten had probably exhausted him. The proof was in the way he let out an almost comically heavy sigh the second he sank onto the couch.

You settled beside him, resting your head on his shoulder like it belonged there, both of you staring at the very much off television in comfortable silence.

“She has a lot of energy, doesn’t she?” You murmured, amused.

Jason huffed out a laugh, “Yeah. I like to think I’m somewhat athletic, but Aria put me to shame today.”

You smiled, tilting your head slightly to look up at him, “Thanks for going today. It meant a lot to her. And to me, too.”

There was a beat of silence before Jason reached for your hand, his fingers threading through yours like second nature. His grip was warm, grounding.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

***

Living in Gotham, you considered yourself one of the lucky ones.

Sure, you weren’t immune to the constant calamities that plagued the city, but you had managed to avoid being caught in the worst of them. Your bank had never been robbed while you were there. You had never been held hostage. You were one of the few people left who had never fallen victim to Joker venom.

Sure, your house had been broken into before—before Aria—but you were never home when it happened.

Really, you should’ve known your luck was going to run out eventually.

You had gotten too comfortable with Jason’s late-night visits, so when the knock came at your door, you didn’t even hesitate. You didn’t check the peephole. You didn’t ask who it was. You just…opened it.

Rookie mistake.

The man standing on the other side was a stranger. Tall. Built. And he made no effort to conceal the gun in his pocket.

Your blood went cold.

A smirk curled at his lips, sending goosebumps crawling up your skin. Your throat tightened.

“Hello, sweetheart. Did your baby daddy stop by?”

Your voice barely came out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The man tsked, stepping forward, making you instinctively press yourself against the doorframe.

“Now, now. Don’t lie,” He murmured, “It won’t end well for you—or the little runt back there.”

Your heart stopped.

Aria.

Terror clawed at your chest, your breath shuddering. Tears burned your eyes.

“Please,” You whispered, “Don’t hurt her. She’s just a child.”

“The child of the infamous Red Hood.” He tilted his head mockingly, “You can’t possibly think that means nothing.”

You shook your head violently, “She doesn’t know anything. I don’t know anything. Please.”

Your hands were iron on the doorknob, but it meant nothing.

With a single sharp shove, he flung the door open.

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

***

Jason had been having a good night.

He had just finished his patrol and was on his way to your place, eager to see you and Aria. Maybe he’d bring her some hot chocolate, tuck her into bed, and spend the rest of the night with you, pretending—for just a little while—that the world outside didn’t exist.

Then he saw the door.

Wide open.

His blood ran cold.

Jason didn’t think—he moved. Gun drawn, he stormed inside, heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal. The second he stepped into the apartment, his stomach dropped.

The place was trashed.

Aria’s toys were scattered across the floor, your coffee table overturned, and the framed pictures on the wall had been knocked down, the glass shattered.

There had been a struggle.

Jason’s throat tightened as his eyes landed on a streak of blood smeared across the hardwood floor.

His world tilted.

No. No, no, no, NO.

His hands shook, but his grip on his gun only tightened. His pulse was pounding in his ears, deafening, drowning out everything but the rage that ignited in his chest like an explosion.

His vision blurred with fury.

Someone took you. Someone took Aria.

His family.

Jason turned sharply and stormed out of the apartment, his movements lethal and precise. He going to hunt down the bastards who thought they could take his girls and live to tell the tale.

They were going to pay.

***

"I need you to find two missing people."

That was the first thing out of Jason’s mouth the second he entered the cave. His urgency didn’t seem apparent enough to anyone, judging by the way Dick and Bruce didn’t even look up from sparring.

Tim, who didn’t bother glancing away from the Batcomputer, simply asked, “Who?”

“(Y/N) and Aria (L/N).”

At this, Dick perked up, “Your fake baby mama and kid? She might not be missing, Little Wing. Maybe she’s just at Superman’s baby shower.”

Dick wasn’t expecting boisterous laughter, but at least a huff of breath or a chuckle would have been appreciated. Instead, he suddenly found himself grabbed by the collar, yanked forward until he was forced to look Jason in the eye.

Jason’s expression was thunderous—fury on the surface, but something even more unsettling lurked underneath.

“The mother of my child and my daughter are missing, and you want to make jokes?”

Dick raised a brow, forcing himself to stay calm, “I thought you didn’t know them?”

Jason’s grip tightened for a second before he let go, stepping back. His voice was low, unwavering.

“I do now.”

***

The world felt like it was spinning in slow motion. Every breath was a struggle, your head pounding from the blow you’d taken earlier, your body screaming in pain with every movement. You tried to focus, tried to tell yourself it was going to be okay—that Aria was okay—but you weren’t okay.

You had been firm in your resolve, refusing to reveal anything about the Red Hood, willing to die on the hill that you knew nothing. But you didn’t know how much longer you could keep it up. So far, they had only hurt you—because when they had turned to Aria, demanding answers, she had wailed and sobbed until she peed herself. The memory made tears well in your eyes.

Your poor girl might walk out of this untouched, but she wouldn’t leave unscathed. This would haunt her for years to come.

And you knew—the second they turned back toward her, the second they so much as raised a hand in her direction—you would break. It didn’t matter how much you loved Jason. You couldn’t, wouldn’t, ever put anyone above Aria’s safety.

Her terrified little eyes stayed locked on you, watching as a trail of blood ran down the side of your face.

Then the door slammed open.

The sound echoed in the empty space, sharp and deafening. Your body tensed, your breath catching in your throat. The man holding you captive turned toward the entrance, a sneer curling his lips.

“Well, well,” He drawled, his voice sickeningly amused. “Looks like Daddy's finally joined us for the party.”

Your heart leaped in your chest. But you couldn’t show it. Not when Aria was still in danger.

With the momentary distraction, she crawled into your lap, and despite the blinding pain searing through your body, you pulled her in. She trembled against you, clutching onto you as if her life depended on it—and in a way, it did. You shielded her, wrapping your arms around her tiny frame, covering her eyes with your bloody hand.

You whispered sweet nothings into her ear, pressing weak kisses to her temple, hoping—praying—that it would be enough to comfort her.

Then came the first gunshot.

You didn’t dare look. You knew what was happening. You could hear it in the crack of bone, the dull thuds of bodies hitting the floor, the sharp gasps of dying men. Jason was swift. Merciless. Tearing through the people who had dared to lay a hand on you and his daughter.

He was here.

He was going to save you.

Another body collapsed nearby, and your breath hitched. You felt yourself slipping, your limbs numb, your eyelids growing heavier by the second.

Then, his voice cut through the haze—low and desperate, but still gentle.

“Sweetheart?”

You wanted to look up at him, to reach for him, but your body was betraying you. Your vision blurred, the pain making it impossible to move.

His hand cupped your face, his warmth seeping into your skin, grounding you. You tried to focus on that, tried to hold on.

“Talk to me, baby,” He murmured, his voice tight with worry.

But you couldn’t. You could barely breathe. The only thing keeping you tethered to consciousness was the familiar scent of leather and gunpowder—the scent of Jason, of safety, of home.

You felt him shift, carefully lifting you into his arms, cradling you like you were the most precious thing in the world. You instinctively leaned into him, letting his presence surround you.

Aria clung to him just as tightly, her tiny voice muffled against his chest.

“Daddy!”

Despite everything, despite the agony consuming your body, your heart swelled at hearing her call him that. When had she started calling him Dad?

Then Jason’s fingers brushed against your cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His voice was softer now, almost breaking.

“Stay with me, sweetheart.”

You forced your eyes open, locking onto his—those intense, unwavering blue eyes that had pinned you to your place the first time you had met in your apartment.

That day you had been apprehensive at best when he had asked to meet Aria, second guessing every choice you made but in the end choosing to follow your gut when it said it had a good feeling about him.

Now, you were sure of it.

“Jason,” You rasped, barely above a whisper. His head snapped down toward you instantly, his grip tightening as if he were afraid you might slip through his fingers.

“I need you to promise me something,” You murmured, your breath shallow, your chest tight.

His brows furrowed. “Anything,” He said, but the hesitance in his voice told you he already knew where this was going.

“I need you to promise…” You swallowed thickly, forcing yourself to keep going, “If something happens to me… you’ll take care of Aria. Promise me, Jay.”

He froze.

For the first time since he’d stormed in, tearing through your captors like an avenging angel, he looked terrified.

His lips parted, but no words came out. You could see the battle raging inside him—the part of him that refused to believe he could lose you and the part that was too afraid not to make that promise.

“Don’t you dare say that,” He finally whispered, voice trembling, “I’m not losing you. I won’t—”

“Promise me,” You urged. You barely had the strength to grip his jacket, but you pulled weakly at the fabric anyway, needing him to understand.

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, his breath coming out in uneven bursts. But he wasn’t crying. Not yet.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he swallowed hard and nodded.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” He swore, his voice breaking. “I won’t let her grow up without you. I promise.”

The relief that washed over you was instant. Even as your vision darkened at the edges, even as your body started to give out, you felt… safe. At peace.

With your last burst of strength, you reached for Aria’s tiny hand, wrapping it in your weak grasp. You gave her a faint squeeze, managing the smallest of smiles.

“I love you,” You whispered, barely loud enough to be heard, “Both of you.”

Jason's breath hitched. His grip around you tightened, as if he could physically keep you here, tethered to him, to Aria, to the life he couldn't bear to lose.

“No, no, sweetheart—stay with me," He pleaded, his voice cracking, raw with panic. He pressed his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, "You don’t get to say that like it’s the last time. You don’t—Please (Y/N)—" His voice broke completely, and for the first time in a long time, Jason Todd was afraid.

Because he knew what loss felt like. Knew it too well.

And he couldn't—wouldn't—survive losing you too.

Aria let out a whimper, squeezing your fingers with her tiny hand. "Mommy?" Her voice was so small, so scared, and it shattered something inside him.

He shifted you in his arms, holding you closer, keeping you upright even though your body was limp.

“I love you too, sweetheart," he whispered, but the words felt hollow, like a plea rather than a promise.

Aria began to sob loudly, little hands grabbing at your sleeve, trying to shake you awake, “Mommy, wake up! Please!”

Her wails were raw, desperate, but Jason had to hold her back, had to keep her from accidentally hurting you any further. His grip on her was gentle but firm, even as his own body trembled with barely restrained terror.

He buried his face in her hair, biting back the sob threatening to claw its way out of his throat. He held you tighter, as if he could physically keep your soul tethered to him, as if just holding you close would stop the light from fading from your eyes.

He had never felt this helpless.

Jason Todd, the Red Hood, the man who had clawed his way back from the grave, who had survived horrors most people couldn’t even imagine—he was useless when it mattered most.

He was holding the broken pieces of this family.

A family that had been good, that had been safe before he came into the picture. A family that had welcomed him with open arms, treated him as though he had never been missing in the first place.

And what had he done in return?

He had ruined it.

He had brought his war, his bloodstained hands, his cursed existence into your lives, and now you were paying the price for it.

If he had never been selfish enough to stay, to want this, to think—even for a second—that he could have something good, that he could deserve you, this never would have happened.

This was his fault.

It was always his fault.

His mother’s betrayal. His death. His resurrection. The people he killed. The people he couldn’t save.

And now you.

Jason clenched his jaw, his breath coming out in ragged, uneven gasps. His heart slammed against his ribs as guilt and fury warred inside him. His hands, hands that had broken men, hands that had torn Gotham’s underworld apart, could do nothing but hold onto the only two people in the world who had ever made him feel like he was worth something.

But what was he worth now?

What good was he if he couldn’t even protect the people he loved?

Jason let out a shaking breath, pressing a kiss to Aria’s head, squeezing his eyes shut as he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”

He never should have stayed.

***

Jason kept his head down as he exited your hospital room, feeling his heart break under the weight of his own resolve—to stay away from both of you.

He spotted his father waiting at the reception, handling the paperwork and payment. As much as Jason felt like the lowest he had ever been and didn’t want anyone to see him like this, he was a little relieved. At least Bruce was here. At least he could leave knowing you were taken care of. He could go home, lock himself in his apartment, and spend the next few weeks trying to forget you. Trying to convince himself that he had been an idiot for ever thinking he had a place in your family.

Because thanks to him, your family had almost been destroyed.

With his head down, he walked up to Bruce, hands stuffed in his pockets. His father gave him a sympathetic pat on the back, but Jason didn’t want to talk. If he opened his mouth now, if he let himself breathe wrong, he knew the lump in his throat would break, and the tears would come pouring out.

"Daddy!"

The sound of Aria’s voice snapped his head up just in time for her to crash into him, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck in a desperate grip. Before he could even think, he was holding her, hugging her tight, feeling her little body shake.

"Daddy, don’t leave! Mommy and I need you! Please don’t go!"

Jason looked at her tear-streaked face and felt something deep inside himself crack. He beat himself up for even considering walking away. How could he? How could he leave while you were still lying in a hospital bed? How could he abandon Aria when she needed him most?

His baby girl.

She needed him. And the truth was—he needed her just as much. He needed both of you.

Right then and there, he made a promise to himself. He would protect you both more than anything. He would love you both more than anything. And he would stop at nothing to make sure you were happy and safe.

Pressing his nose against Aria’s wet cheek, he kissed away her tears, "I’m not going anywhere, princess. Daddy’s not going anywhere."

He stole a glance at Bruce, who gave him a small smile and a nod. With a steadier heart, he carried Aria back to your hospital room.

The second she saw you, Aria gasped, "Mommy!"

You gave Jason a tired smile from your place on the bed, the cut on your lip making it painful to do so, but you still reached out for his hand.

"I thought you would’ve left, wallowing in your guilt. Your masochistic streak and all that," You teased softly.

Jason let out a shaky breath, giving you a glassy-eyed smile before pressing another kiss to Aria’s temple.

"Our girl knows how to keep me grounded."

You grinned at that, exhaustion clear in your features but warmth shining in your eyes.

"She’s her father’s daughter, alright."

***

State of New Jersey Department of Family and Child Services Official Adoption Certificate

This document certifies that on 17/03/2025, Jason Peter Todd has legally adopted Aria (L/N), hereafter known as Aria Todd, and is recognized as her father with all parental rights and responsibilities.

Adoptive Parent: Jason Peter Todd Child’s Name (Amended): Aria Todd Birth Mother: (Y/N) Todd Previous Father Listed: Red Hood (Alias) — Amended

Additional Comments: "I’m not the stepdad. I’m the dad who stepped up." — Jason Todd

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

[b3ach-bunn7]

READ YOUR MIND

You're roommate and her boyfriend are incredibly loud, so you decide to spend the night at your hot friend Jason's house.

fluff, college!au, confessions, one bed trope

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It takes about twenty minutes of internal conflict before you find yourself outside Jason’s dorm room. 

You feel stupid. It’s not like you haven’t been in Jason’s room before. You guys were friends. He’d slept on your couch after a movie night gone too long, you’d stayed up for hours writing essays together on his bedroom floor. This was nothing weird, nothing new. 

But for whatever reason, today it feels different. 

It might be the fact that you’re seeing him differently. You’re not sure when, but the line between friend and something else has started to blur. You don’t know how you didn’t notice the strong slope of his jaw, the fact that he was probably strong and muscular enough to throw you over his shoulder. How funny he was, how kind he was. The fact he studied English, how smart he was at it. It’s really no one's fault but his own. You’re surprised you’d lasted this long without crushing on him, anyway. And maybe the way his eyes lingered a little too long on your own. Innocent touches felt like something else, a hand holding your hips as he stepped behind you, a thigh against your own as you sat in impossibly tight lecture halls.

Whatever. There’s no point looking at it like that. You love your friendship with him too much to let a little crush ruin it. 

If you were in any other situation, you wouldn’t be here. But it’s late and you know of all your friends Jason’s the most likely to be awake. You don’t want to bother him but you can't spend another night third-wheeling with your roommate and her boyfriend. That, and the fact that it gets particularly loud whenever you come to sleep. 

After a deep breath to steel yourself, you knock on the door. It takes only a few seconds before it swings wide open. 

And God, you take back everything you just said. Because he's wearing a pair of grey sweats, and an old band shirt that is showing off his delicious arms, and you don’t know if you can blame the fact it’s nearly midnight on the thoughts running through your head. His movements are slow, sleepy, as he blinks at you confused.

He pushes his glasses up his head, tufts of brown hair falling over his face. “Oh. Hey. Is- Are you okay?”

“Oh god, did I wake you?”

“Nah, you’re good.” He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

It takes a second before the words come out of your mouth. “I- Lily. She has- She has her boyfriend round, and I don’t sleep very well when he’s there.” You laugh awkwardly, scratching your arm.

You hold up the books and paper you brought with you. “You mind if I crash here tonight? I bought stuff to keep me busy, so I’ll be out of your hair.”

Jason smiles easily, pushing the door open further. “Of course, yeah.” 

You step in, thanking him as he grabs the stuff out of your hand and puts them on his front table. His dorm is so boyish. Him and his roommate, an eccentric boy everybody called Gar, were not the best at interior design. Their couches are dark grey with red pillows, jarring against the white carpet you’d bought them as a housewarming gift. The kitchen was an amalgamation of whatever plates and mugs they’d found at thrift stores, their fridge filled with pictures from Gar’s old polaroid camera. It was cute and very them, and a warm place to sleep that wasn’t accompanied by the sound of your roommate and her boyfriend doing whatever the hell they got up to alone.

“Thanks again. I can’t stand another night with those two.”

Jason snorts a laugh, sitting down on the couch. “It can’t be that bad. They’re nice people.”

“Yeah, sure. But all they do is remind me of how painfully single I am.” You huff, sitting beside him.

He’s close enough that you can smell the expensive cologne he wears. He’s shown you it once, a fancy glass bottle. He’s spritzed it on your wrist and the smell lasted all day. He nods at your words, and you turn your head towards the TV to avoid his gaze.

“That guy you saw last week didn’t work out?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. Honestly, the date had been crap, and you’d forgotten about him the second you’d gone home. You’re surprised he remembers. You tell Jason about all of your romantic adventures, hoping it will have some effect on your feelings for him. It hasn't been very successful so far. And while Jason looks disinterested as he asks you, eyes focused on the movie on screen, his leg taps up and down, and he looks a little restless. You think about lying for a split second, but you can’t bring yourself to do it.

You scoff. “I haven’t spoken to him since. He was boring. And stupid.”

Jason laughs, his eyes crinkling. “That’s rude!”

“He couldn’t hold one conversation with me! Like, I asked him what his favourite book was and he said Diary of a Wimpy Kid. We are nineteen years old!” You whine, hands covering your face as Jason cackles next to you.

“So that’s all women want. A man who reads?” There's a teasing lilt to his voice and you roll your eyes.

“Well, duh. I am studying English after all. I’d like to be able to hold a conversation with him about what I do.”

“That’s a fair dealbreaker, I'll be honest.” Jason hums, resting his arm on the back of the couch, brushing your back slightly. “Is that all you’re looking for in a man?”

The TV blares quietly in the background. Some random show on the food network where the contestant currently on screen looks like they're about to drop the tiered cake in their hands. His question rings out in the room, and you know you only have a few seconds before your silence is considered awkward. But you can’t help but think his question is so suggestive. Does he want to know why out of innocent curiosity? Or does he want to know out of something else?

“Well. Obviously not.” You finally say, bringing your knees up to your chest. “But English comprehension would be nice.”

Jason snorts a laugh. “That being said. He has to be funny. And tall, at least taller than me. And he needs to be smart. And fit. Like, physically.”

Jason watches you with a small smile on his face, nodding, like he knows you're just trying to describe him in a roundabout way. You laugh, a little nervous under his gaze. You reach across the couch and grab the remote.Your arm brushes against his leg and the contact is fleeting but it makes your skin burn.

“And all these guys at uni, and you haven’t found one who fits?” 

His voice is lower when he speaks again, and when you look at him he’s looking at you so intensely. And it’s then you notice that the two of you are sitting quite close on the couch, considering it's one big enough to fit about four people. 

“Well. Yes. I- Maybe.”

He just nods again. You take a quick breath in, quickly grabbing your book from the table. “Did you finish the essay for next week?” 

Jason groans, leaning his head back on the couch. “Fuck. No. I completely forgot.”

You wave your own essay in the air. “Well. I was gonna ask you to read over mine, but. Nevermind then.” You sigh dramatically.

“Shut up. Lemme read.” He takes it out of your hand, slipping his glasses back on his face. They’re thick rimmed lenses that make him look older than he is and you love them.

You watch him as he reads, fingers playing with his bottom lip as his eyes skim over your work. Some part of you feels the tiniest bit self-conscious, because he is a hundred times smarter than you, but you know he’d never make it feel that way. Jason suddenly looks up and his eyes meet yours. You smile, face heating, as he raises an eyebrow.

“Enjoying the view, sweetheart?”

“Shut up.”

You tap the edge of your paper. “Good?”

“Great. Can you write mine too?”

You snort. “You wish.” Jason pouts and drops your paper back on the table.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it tomorrow. Right now I’m hungry.”

You sit up immediately at that. “Yes. Let’s order food.”

Jason looks back at his kitchen. “I shouldn’t. I’ve eaten takeaway every night this week, I think. It’s also,” he quickly glances at his watch, “barely half twelve. What’s even open right now?”

You groan, shaking his shoulder. “Jason, don’t be responsible! I’m here, this is like a sleepover. We need to eat something junk-foody.”

Jason just frowns. You flick the centre of his glasses and he tuts. “Hey.”

“I’ll even pay! It’s on me.” You nod and pull out your phone. You’re opening UberEats before he can protest again.

“See. Burger King is open. We love Burger King!”

“We do?”

“Yes. What do you want?”

“A whopper.”

You spend the next ten minutes deciding and then the next thirty waiting anxiously for your food. The thing with Jason, and probably the reason you like him the most, is that you can talk to him about anything. Tonight, it’s his brother Dick’s birthday party. He leans in to show you the picture on his phone, and you try not to laugh at how unhappy he looks to be photographed.

When the doorbell rings Jason runs to grab the food, before bringing it back to the two of you. It takes another twenty minutes for the two of you to finish eating, old episodes of Friends humming in the background. Sleep circles your limbs and you yawn, sipping on blue slushy that had come with your order. It’s entirely too sweet and stains your tongue blue but you keep drinking it anyway.

“I don’t know. Bruce is always asking me to come over, but. Things are still weird.”

You nod. “Yeah, I get it. But it’s good you’re trying. I-“

You're cut off suddenly by Jason yelling and pointing at your arm. You screech, dropping your slush and shooting off the couch.

“What! Oh my god, what is it?” You yell, hands rubbing at your sleeves.

“You-“ Jason tries to speak but his words are cut off by a laugh. “It was just a little bug.” 

“Jason. That is not funny! You freaked me out, look!” You whine, pointing at the now spilt slushy all over your hoodie.

“Ah, shit. Sorry, sorry.” 

He gets up and grabs some tissues and you furiously dab at your hoodie. The couch is also now blue, and you frown. “There goes my bed, too. Guess I’m sleeping on your bedroom floor today.” 

Jason perks up where he’s blotting the couch. He frowns, thinking for a moment. “You’re not sleeping on the floor, what? Take my bed.”

Your hands drop to your sides. “Well what about you?” 

“I’ll take the floor. It’s my fault you split this, anyway.” 

“It’s your bed. I’m not gonna make you sleep on the floor.”

“Well, it’s my dorm so. I think I’ll have the final say, sweetheart.” He teases. 

You bite your bottom lip, thinking, and toss the used tissues on the table. “Why don’t we just sleep together?”

The tips of Jason’s ears turn a dark red and he looks a little shell-shocked at your words, before it’s replaced by a smirk. Your face flushes too, and you quickly shake your head.

“I- Not like that, I meant- Stop laughing.” You snap. But the sight of him laughing behind his hand makes you giggle a little too.

“I just mean, like. I don’t mind sleeping in the bed with you. I just- I don’t think there’s any point in one of us sleeping on the floor, if there’s a perfectly good bed that can fit us both, you know?”

You’re well aware that you’re rambling, and the way he tilts his head and smiles at you is not helping. He gives the couch one last wipe and stands.

“Alright. That’s cool with me if it’s cool with you.  I can also get you something else to wear.” He gestures at your now blue hoodie and you smile gratefully.

You’ve been in Jason’s room once or twice, to grab something or take a call. But this time it’s different, because you’re looking at his bed and you’re going to be in it in about five minutes. You ignore the band posters plastered on his walls, the messy stacks of books all over his floor. You sit gingerly on the edge of the mattress and wait. He comes in only a moment later. He starts rummaging through his drawers and you just watch. He glances at you over his shoulder and shakes his head, huffing a laugh.

“Stop staring. You’re making me nervous.” He whispers.

“Man up.”

He throws a hoodie at you and you catch it. “You know where the bathroom is.”

You walk into the toilet and quickly get changed. You leave your old hoodie in the hamper. Jason’s one is bigger and smells like him, and you don’t see yourself giving this back anytime soon. You give yourself a quick once over in the mirror, fixing your hair and wiping mascara from under your eyes, before you head back to Jason’s room.

When you come back, Jason’s already in bed, doing something on his phone. You linger in the doorway and he looks up.

“You want a formal invitation?”

You roll your eyes and shuffle your way over. You gingerly lift up the sheets and climb in. You are so painfully aware of how close he is, your shoulders brushing as he puts his phone to the side and lays down properly. The room is silent other than the two of you breathing. Just when you're about to speak, he beats you to it.

“Night.” He whispers.

“Goodnight.”

You’re not crazy, right? This is weird. Maybe if it was Victor’s room. A boy friend who was completely platonic, it wouldn't mean anything. But you’ve felt the tension between you and Jason, the subtle flirting, the lingering touches. You know that whatever is happening between you guys is not just friendship. And you have no idea if it's just you, because Jason is breathing so evenly you think he’s fallen asleep already. 

You shuffle a little in the sheets, uncomfortable. They smell like Jason and it’s not helping to calm your thoughts down. You turn around to lay on your side, and when you do, you’re met with a face right in front of you, looking back. 

It doesn’t take long for your eyes to adjust to the darkness and this close, you can make out the spattering of freckles on the bridge of his nose, the grey hairs he’s growing at 20 that he always complains about. His eyelashes are so long, and you smile sleepily.

“Hi.” 

He smiles too. “Hi.”

“I can’t sleep.” You mumble, eyes fluttering shut. “Those burgers woke me up.”

Silence. You don't get a reply. You open your eyes again and Jason is just staring.

“Is there another bug on my face?” You joke. But he doesn't laugh.

“No. You just look so pretty right now.”

Your mouth opens to speak, but no words come out. Jason looks like he’s telling you the time of day, so casual. He lifts up his hand slightly, and brushes a strand of your hair from out your face.

“I- Thank you.”

He doesn’t say anything again. You don’t know what to say. A silence settles over the room again. The two of you just look at each other. And just when you’re about to break it, he sits up so fast it makes you jump.

“Jason, what-”

“I can’t do this, I-”

You eyebrows furrow and you sit up, watching Jason flick on the lamp on his bedside table. The room is enveloped in a soft warm light, and his hair is tousled a little, his shirt wrinkled from how quickly he got up.

“What is going on right now?” “Did you know Gar isn’t home?” He says.

You say yes, because the fact you can’t hear him yelling at COD or something else, and the fcat he didn’t come say hi, is enough clue that he’s not home. 

“Right, so. When I made you spill your slushy, which was an accident by the way, I could’ve easily just let you stay in there. He wouldn’t care.”

“Okay.” You say slowly.

“And. I didn’t. Because I knew that you wouldn’t let me sleep on the floor and i wouldn’t either, and then we’d be in this position, and I’d finally get the chance to fucking tell you how i feel.”

“How- How you feel?”

“Yes. And then I pussied out and I just said goodnight, and. And then you looked at me, and, fuck. I can’t take it anymore.”

And then Jason turns to look at you, and he looks so desperate as he grabs your hands, his skin calloused as he tightens his grip. 

“I like you. A lot. And, you know, I’d like to think I'm pretty smart, but I know I am horrible when it comes to people, at feelings. So I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say that.”

This is a dream. There’s no way this is real, that the Jason Todd, biceps and all, is confessing to you on his bed. You want to pinch yourself because the way his thumb is rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand is making your heart squeeze in your chest.

You watch those pretty brown eyes furrow slightly at your silence. 

“I- If you don’t feel the same way, I-”

You don’t think before you reach forward, palms grabbing his jaw and pulling him forward so you can press a kiss to his lips. And he barely waits a second before his eyes flutter closed, hands tangling in your hair to pull you impossibly closer. Your arms slide down to curve around his neck and you toy with the hair on the nape of his neck, and he groans. You finally let go and he leans his forehead on yours, kissing your nose, your cheek.

“I like you too, by the way. If the kiss wasn’t tell enough.”

He grins, boyish and handsome, and you want to kiss him again.

He sighs happily, hands slipping up the edge of his hoodie, eyes waiting for your nod of approval. When he gets it, he smiles again, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“God, thank fuck for Lily and her boyfriend

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

nia try not to write a college au mission impossible... I LOVEE JASON TODD! In my head any alternate universe hes not emo so i write him nice and cute.

thanks to all who voted in the poll! im gonna make my way through all the guys on that list so look out for it! next up will be shinsou because of a very nice commenter ;P i hope u all enjoy this, leave any fic ideas in my ask box!

[hadesrise]

## murder for you, baby !!

summary──── a justifiable serial killer on the loose, and jason finds himself being enamoured by him.

pairings──── jason todd x dbd!ghostface!male reader

warnings──── nsfw content, serial killer themes, dead dove do not eat, sexual arousal in response to violence or torture, murder, blood, deaths, gore, foul language, bottom!jason, top!reader, reader’s physique is described as tall and broad ( the slasher build ), possessiveness, choking, praise kink, blood kink, knife play ( reader carving his initials on jason ), toxic!reader ( ? ), sorta toxic relationship but also not, unprotected sex, love-making, pet names, overstimulation, dumbification, degradation if you squint, lil’ bit of manipulation, creampie, doggy style, mating press, biting, marking, oral ( r. receiving ), voice kink ( ? )

author’s note──── not me coming back with halloween themed fic after halloween days have passed lol. i’m alive, y’all !! hope you enjoy this one that took a fucking month to write 😭

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ; this post may contain disturbing contents that may not be suitable for every reader — a reader discretion is advised. MINORS DNI !!

Gotham’s been terrorized by the worst people you could ever imagine, the kind that’ll stick with you forever and take residence to your nightmares if you were unfortunate enough. Many were hurt or even murdered as a result of the villains’ terrorization, with vigilantes running through the night to capture and send them to Arkham Asylum.

With the existence of a Psychopathic Clown, his equally psychopathic girlfriend with PHD’s that’s been wasted down the line, the Mother Nature freak, the ridiculously huge man with a gas mask on, the green coloured living question mark, and many others, no one would’ve ever thought anything could get any worse.

Until some criminals’ bodies turn up across the streets in such disturbing manner that haunts the witnesses to death.

One, a criminal who murdered young and homeless boys, gutted deeply to the point of their intestines hanging out. Another, a criminal known for kidnapping and selling people’s organs, mutilated with their torso torn back to expose the organs settled inside of them. Another one, a priest-turned-criminal who’s been violating women and children, crucified naked in his own church with his eyes gouged out, a Bible verse carved in his chest; ‘And if your eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away.’ Matthew 18:9; his penis cut off and body seemingly violated as well. Another more turns up, a governor-turned-criminal who’s been feeding into the rich despite their oath of generosity towards the poor, severely tortured with the skin on his back cut open, ribs severed from the spine and broken to the sides in order to create the illusion of wings, fluttering lungs pulled out from their chest cavity to resemble an eagle’s wings, with the word ‘traitor’ carved on his forehead.

The brutality and gruesome nature of the murders has set an alarming panic and fear across Gotham City that forced civilians into locking their doors at night. Criminals who were unidentified and not found by Gotham Police Department were also turning up in a form of miserable, tortured soul, along with the evidence and proofs of their crimes being carelessly laid beside their lifeless corpse.

The killer taunts those who are in charge of justice within their city each time the damned were unfortunate enough to be hunted down; pigs of failure written in the criminal’s blood right beside the drawing of a police’s logo.

However, despite how gruesome and disturbing the murders were, most people couldn’t deny that it was doing the city a favor. Justice System has failed more times than one could count to the extent of victims yearning to exact revenge themselves against their perpetrator, which causes most to react rather positively to the wrongful, unlikely hero who had seem to suddenly appear out of nowhere. The haunted finally getting the chance to slay the traumatic demons with the help of another psychopath on the loose.

Another justified monstrosity shouldn’t be the counter against one inhumane monstrosity that caused so much pain, trauma, and misery. But kindness could not vanquish one’s tainted blood. Forgiveness could not suddenly wash away the sins engraved deeply into one’s soul.

Imperfect, the victims muttered. An imperfect yet perfect way to save our burning souls wrongfully condemned by the criminals.

Red Hood has heard their murmurs.

Silent whispers of gratitude that fell on deaf ears, their previously dim soul brightening in relief and sanctuary with smiles on their faces as the Universe had finally took mercy on them and sent a Fallen Angel to slay the Demons away. He’s watched their spirit uplift, no longer chained down by the trauma and fear of the monsters that once ruined their lives, able to walk the streets carefree of tormentors. He’s watched their stiff posture visibly loosen, lively peacefulness settling itself at last within their haunted eyes. He’s watched them glow with happiness not feeling the presence of their perpetrator every couple of seconds, finally capable of living without needing to constantly look over their shoulders in paranoia and fear.

Ghostface is what the serial killer’s called, nickname born out of the mask that resembled a ghost always being left behind in crime scenes, each slightly different.

Jason has seen you. He didn’t mean to, really.

The temptation to get at least one look at you was great every-time he patrolled, wishing to just catch glimpse of an immoral hero who could make sacrifices no actual heroes could — who’s doing exactly what he wished before for Batman to do.

The Universe seems to have granted his wishes when his eyes catches the void of ghostface’s eyes, your mask tainted in splatters of blood from the dead criminal below you. Jason feels his world come to a stop as you slowly rise from crouching position and reveal your unnaturally tall height, broad shoulders visible under the black hooded leather. You hold silence and calmness despite being caught, tilting your head slightly to the side.

His heartbeat quickens yet he doesn’t feel fear. Jason idiotically steps closer as if he was in a trance, burning your existence within his eyes to engrave in his memory. Your bloody knife barely grazes his neck to stop him before using it to tilt his chin up, your figure looming and towering over him while seemingly staring into his eyes through his helmet.

A sense of peacefulness overcomes Jason being in your presence despite the absolute brutality and mercilessness that surrounded your entire being. You were deadly, silent, certainly creative with your work that it deems almost artistic, as if the criminals’ bodies were your own canvas to paint on — and Jason finds solace in you. A man he always needed, someone who’d be willing to cross the line and get rid of the actual evil for the sake of victims that’d be forever haunted if it continues to exist.

“I’ve heard things about you, Red Hood.”

Low, raspy, monotone voice speaks, sending shivers down his spine. It sounds cool and handsome regardless of the obvious use of voice changer, somehow littered with tiniest hint of flirtatiousness.

It takes him quite a while to answer, barely managing to let out a “yeah?” as he feels you drag the knife slightly closer to his pulse. His heartbeat quickens, but slows down when the cold metal was finally pulled away.

“Pleasant things,” You hummed, before your voice lowered a few octaves, “Can’t say the same about Batman.” Anger seems to seep through your tone that felt a little more than just sympathy for victims of villains Batman refused to put six feet under. Jason wondered if you’re also one of the victims his father failed.

“You… You know him that much?” Jason’s voice shakes from the nerve, your presence somehow greatly affecting him.

“I think everyone knows him enough,” You chuckled, but it sounded so empty that Jason can’t help but feel the goosebumps rise on his skin. It was quite chilling to meet someone who shows only a certain amount of emotion which could even be felt expressionless due to the monotonous pitch. The ghostface mask certainly did its job of making you seem more less human, the unmoving expression of ghost being horrified to death adding to the eeriness of your toneless mechanic voice.

Jason’s breath hitched when you took one step closer.

“But I know more about you. Your little past and the sufferings you’ve endured,” It’s spoken as if his life was one of your necessary investigation in your twisted justice. “It’s unfair, don’t you think? I would’ve gutted the Joker like a fish if it were to happen to my son.” There’s a condescending way in which you spoke, not directed at Jason but to Bruce.

“How—” Jason swallowed. “How did you—”

“I can make your dreams come true,” You interrupted him with a tempting offer, shutting him up effectively. Wide grin plastered your face despite not being seen behind your mask. “I can kill the Clown for you, Red Hood. If it means it’ll silence your troubled spirit. If it’ll bring you peace. I can hurt him on your behalf just like he deserves.”

It was like a whisper from the devil, slithering its way into Jason’s heart and mind to possess his soul, mirroring the one which whispered on Adam and Eve’s ears.

He’s been wanting — needing — to hear those words come out of Bruce. His suffering and death seemingly being brushed off as a cruel accident shattered him more than he’d ever admit, Bruce’s unhealthy coping mechanism and morality getting in the way of showing his love for Jason that left the younger man feel lesser than he was. Bruce was a complex person that’s sometimes difficult to understand, his impressive ways to stick to his morals being exactly his character, but Jason wanted for once, to actually feel how important he was to his father.

Was that too much to ask for, or was he just unworthy of the entirety of it?

“Why would you do that for me?” Confusion and subtle suspicion filled his tone as Jason narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out your intention despite the rush of hope that shot throughout his chest. He forced himself to feel nothing when you leaned in closer.

“Because you were wronged, of course.” You simply stated. “You are a victim. Not more, not less. You deserve a little more than just empty justice. And I’m a man who got tired of vigilantes that are afraid to make sacrifices for the greater good.” Then, you tilt your head slightly to the side in a way that’s somehow alluring. “But I can also say I’m intrigued by you.”

Jason’s heartbeat quickens again when your big hand seems to wrap perfectly around his throat, fingers resting just above his pulse points. It makes such filthy thoughts flood themselves into his mind, your long and quite thick fingers falling victims to his tainted imagination, and he had to give everything in himself not to bare his throat more for you. You seem pleased of his lack of disobedience and bite, having expected him to shove your hand away or flinch back before you could touch him. You’ve seen Red Hood once and how his uncontrollable rage resulted in violence, heavy burdens and extreme trauma turning him into a ticking time bomb that could explode any minute with the wrong move. He was absolutely lethal, the bullets serving as the evidence of his wrath and resentment towards the underground scumbags. It’s amusing that you have the man of violence himself now somehow completely under your control, surprisingly quiet and shy and obedient. You wondered if this is how he was before he was ruined by the cruelty of the world.

“You want it, don’t you? For me to kill the Joker.”

Jason feels as if you know everything he wants. Is this what it feels like to be important?

It takes a little while for him to answer, but he eventually came up with a “You’ll do that?” which sounded vulnerable and weak for the first time in his second life. Your heart clenched at the doubt and seemingly child-like vulnerability in which he uttered the words, as if he was afraid to trust something after being betrayed countless of times, reminding you of the sole person you’ve even began doing all of this for. They were quite similar yet so different — your older brother and Jason.

You hadn’t meant to cross his boundaries and unknowingly step into the empty hole that made home in his heart. Unconsciously slithering in like a snake by touching the subject his heart was longing for, not realizing his childhood’s still remaining within his spirit.

All he wanted was love and to feel safe again. You didn’t know the Red Hood was so adorably pitiful. A smirk plastered your face.

“I will,” You reassured and leaned your face inches away from his, the hand on his throat lifting his helmet slightly.

Jason doesn’t retaliate, blinded by a meat of hope dangled in front of him. He doesn’t move as the lower half of his face was exposed, and you lifted your own mask the same using your other hand. Jason willingly, obediently closes his eyes before your lips attached to his — a kiss of death, tasting like blood and cruelty. Warm and soft despite your rough, cold-blooded, corrupted soul. A kiss from the devil.

When Jason opened his eyes, you had already disappeared into the darkness with blood stains on the ground you stood before, a single note left behind; Hell will reopen for the Clown.

After neatly tucking the note inside his jacket and making sure no evidence has been accidentally left on the crime scene, Red Hood smiles for the first time in a long while and reaches for the comms without a heavy heart.

“Batman, I found another body.”

Whatever happens, he’ll have no knowledge of the following misfortune that’ll befall on the Joker. It’s the righteous serial killer’s doing, after all.

What was used to be a maniacal laughter turned into screams of agony and pain. Strong stench of death and blood makes euphoria rush within your mind, the feeling of slicing through flesh with your knife bringing pleasure and ecstasy that made your pants tight. There’s a certain amount of satisfaction in the way your own actions cause serious harm and scarring to criminals who once deemed themselves powerful, being reduced into nothing but a powerless prey that could easily be gotten rid of.

You feel increasingly powerful the more you strip them of their dignity and arrogance as they shed blood on the holy ground. Your existence alone striking them with crippling fear and anxiety feeds into your ego, yet you never stray away from the sole purpose or reason for your murders — making them taste their own medicine.

From what you found on countless deep dive and research, Joker preyed on Red Hood when he was still a young child full of life and joy, having been under the name Robin at the time. Second Robin to be exact, considering he was a lot different from the first one. It actually surprisingly pained you when you’d seen how much of an adorable, dorky, nice kid he was before misfortune cut his life short. You would’ve never thought you would find a kid adorable in your entire life, the little menaces often being nothing more than a headache to be around with that caused a certain dislike to grow towards them within you, but Jason was everything a cute kid was. Just excited to be there, to be fighting alongside Batman, to be relevant.

Such a precious boy ruined for the sake of shits and giggles for the Clown. For the sake of getting under Batman’s skin. And the Bat couldn’t even make fucking amends to his flaws as a father and mentor.

Well, he didn’t need to anymore.

You’ll give Red Hood— Jason Todd —what he wants. Yearned for. Perhaps, even what the other civilians who have fallen victims to this vile criminal want. You would stop at nothing until every criminal is gurgling and choking on their own blood.

Joker’s scream shoots a jolt of electricity within your body as your knife pierce through his skinny thigh and to the ground, pinning his leg down. You had been doing an effective job of reducing the maniac into nothing but a screaming, cowering average victim by torture. Bruises, burns, gashes, and stab wounds littered his body that was done carefully enough to not be life-threatening. Fucker was laughing maniacally at first, of course. It irritated you so much that you might’ve went a little overboard.

Watching Joker heave and struggle to breathe from the pain, you tilted your head and roughly grabbed his throat. It catches him off guard and he grips your wrist, barely even having the strength to fight you off. You’re amused by the entirety of Joker’s nature, how he’s still just an average man that can easily be overpowered — nothing that makes him special enough to not be killed, becoming proof of Batman’s selfish willingness to let the victims suffer than bring them actual peace.

You’ve never uttered a word since you captured him and it unnerved Joker from the beginning, but then, words finally come out of your mouth in a form of monotonous, mechanical, emotionless, eerie voice as you lean over him; “Laugh it out, Joker. Why so serious?”

It sounded like a death sentence.

He’s right in a way, because another of your knife pierced the corner of his mouth soon as you uttered the words. Your other hand tightened on his arteries to choke him while you drag the knife to slit the side of his mouth into a grin, following the lines of his red lipstick. It was certainly not a clean cut, but an artist has their own creative ways to make their art. Tears mixed in with blood that gushes out of his face, complete horrors written across Joker’s eyes which boosts your satisfaction. You go on and do the same thing to the other side of his mouth, before finishing your art piece by carving ‘J’ on his painted cheek.

You resist the urge to moan at the sight of blood coating your fine piece, always finding it to be an amazing finishing touch.

From then on, Joker was brought to literal Hell.

Jason flinches when a playful knock sounded from his safe house’s window, cautiously approaching to see ghostface waving at him through the glass. His eyes widened and immediately opens the window to let you in, not wanting anyone to see you — your sudden appearance distracting him from the fact he’s never given anyone the location of his safe house.

He stops in track at the blood splatters across your mask, and just then had he noticed you seemed to be hiding something behind your back with one hand. It definitely strikes his curiosity, but he somehow didn’t feel like you were holding something that could harm him.

“You got something for me, ghostface?” Jason feels you grin under your mask.

“Got you a present,” Your raspy, rough voice enthusiastically quipped.

Jason’s breath hitches when you show what you were holding — the Joker’s decapitated head in a square glass container tainted by its blood. You obviously had planned to bring it barehand, but you considered the possibility of its blood dripping down on his safe house and becoming a false evidence to point him to the murder, which prompted you to put it inside the container. An unbelievably sweet gesture for a fucking psychopath like you.

Jason could feel his heart beat rapidly as he takes in the animal’s state, carved up grin and the letter J and the horrors seen in its lifeless eyes proving the absolute misery and suffering it went through before being put down. The monster was finally, finally slain and gone forever from his life. Nightmares detangles from his spirit and the past unwraps away from his soul, utter peace and relief spreading throughout his chest. Tears gathered in his eyes at the feeling of being free at last from the life long torment, breath shaking as his knees wobbled.

The child in himself, the innocent Robin that was killed unfairly, finally rests in peace.

Then he sees you, his hero, waving your seemingly new knife playfully in the air with your outfit splattered in blood without a care that you actually saved him, and Jason feels a sudden surge of arousal and will to submit. To give you everything, anything.

“Do you love it, Red Hood?”

Without answering you, Jason grabs the glass container with shaky hands and sets it aside on the counter before stepping back closer to you again, blood rushing to his veins from arousal. He removes his helmet with a thud on the floor and falls to his knees in front of you, lustful and yearning emerald eyes looking up at you.

“Let me thank you, please.”

It makes you groan as your pants significantly tightens more.

You slide your knife back into the holster before cupping his beautiful face in your hands, and thank fucking Heavens there wasn’t any blood on it that would taint his face, because he’s a sight to behold. He’s truly a gem, something precious you had never seen before. “So beautiful,” You whispered, making Jason flush. “Baring yourself to me for such a simple present, doll?”

“Not a simple present,” Jason mumbled as he snuggles on the palm of your hands. “You saved me.”

You hum appreciatively, getting the itch to bare yourself to him as well. “You wanna thank me by what?”

Jason looks back at you, face flushed with a little hint of uncertainty and embarrassment, doubts. “I— uhm,” He stammers, but encouraged by your thumb’s gentle stroke on his cheek. “By… by becoming yours.”

Your cock throbs. Fuck, he’s so fucking adorable, you just wanna fuck his guts out. You’re usually tempted to gut people, not fuck their guts— which is funny to say the least— but you weren’t going to say no when the Red Hood’s so willing to offer himself up.

“You wanna take my mask off, doll?” He seems surprised by your question as if he hadn’t thought of it, making you chuckle. “If you wanna be mine, I gotta be yours too, don’t I?” It was dangerous to reveal your identity to him, but you couldn’t care less, especially when you could just fuck his brains out to shut him up. That’s the plan, first time that didn’t include butchering or cutting a body up.

Jason fucking Todd and his effects on you.

The emerald eyed male hesitantly grasped your mask when you led his hands to it, slowly lifting it over your head. He’s met with a fucking luscious feature to ever be adorned on a man and dark, lustfully murderous blood red eyes that makes a whimper slip past his lips. You merely widened your eyes at the sound he made before immediately grabbing his jaw and smashing your lips against his, swallowing Jason’s surprised gasp.

He reciprocates the insatiable hunger you displayed, tongue dancing along with yours and moaning into the kiss when your fingers lightly tugged on his hair. You pull him up in amidst of making out and squeeze his ass, encouraging him to wrap his legs around your hips. You detach your lips from his to trail kisses down his jaw and neck as you walked towards his bedroom, questionably knowing where it is, and Jason tilts his head back to give you more access with closed eyes. Letting him stimulate both of your restrained cocks by grinding down, you sat down on the bed and sucked on his throat as Jason moaned.

“Please, please…” He whimpers, uncontrollably moving his hips in a perfect rhythm yet he seemed to want something else.

You pulled away and traced his lips with your thumb, watching as he naturally took it in and sucked, giving you a desperate look. Swiftly turning off the voice changer attached to your neck in a form of choker, you chuckled when his hands fiddled with the belt on your hooded coat. “So needy, aren’t you?” Your real voice sends shivers down his spine.

An alluring, low, slightly rough pitch and somehow more emotionless than when you were using the voice changer. It makes his cock twitch and empty hole clench down on nothing, the need to be stuffed full of your cum swarming in his belly. You’re fucking bewitching, a man made up from every guy and girl’s fantasy, wet dream, and your attractiveness mirroring the Devil’s that would tempt and lure others to sin.

How the fuck were you real?

“Speak up, pretty bird.” You smirked, “What do you want?”

“Your cock,” Jason mutters, cheeks tinted in pink. “Wanna suck your cock and make you feel good.”

“Fuck…” You shifted in place, “You’ll do that f’me? Get my cock nice and wet to take you apart? To fuck your guts out?”

Jason shakily inhales and nods, climbing off your lap and kneeling on the floor. You lean back on your hands as he unstraps your belt and slide your zipper down, slightly raising your hips to help him get rid of the excess clothes. Your thick and lengthy cock smacks against your clothed stomach, making Jason’s mouth water. Thick veins throbbed on your big shaft, the tip angry and red from arousal leaking precum. It wasn’t just big, it was long, and Jason squeezes his thighs together to keep himself from just riding your cock all day.

His hand wraps around the base, starting to stroke it with a content rhythm. God, you were so fucking big. It’d definitely split him open if you shove it in so suddenly and fill him up nice. It’d make him scream his head off from the unbearable length and girth, almost too much, and Jason wants you to force him to take it. Pin him down and fuck him despite his pleas to stop.

Jason swipes his thumb over the slit, smearing precum, pumping it for a good amount before licking a stripe up the underside of your cock. You shudder, removing your gloves to slip your bare fingers through Jason’s hair, encouraging him to take you in. He obeys, relaxing his throat first before sliding your cock inside his warm mouth, and you groaned at the warmth that surrounded you. It almost didn’t fit from how big you were, but Jason braced himself and took it in further until he gagged as the tip touched the back of his throat. Wrapping his hand around your shaft that he couldn’t take in, stroking gently as if to apologize.

A moan slips past your lips when he starts bobbing his head, tongue brushing against the underside of your dick. “Fuck… Doin’ so good,” You roll your head back. “Such a pretty face to fuck, ain’t ya?”

Jason whines, tears gathered in his eyes as he sucks and fastens his rhythm. Curses, grunts leave your lips that left him feeling all hot and bothered, his other hand moving to skillfully pull his pants down and free his aching cock.

You see him touching himself and a smirk adorns your sinful face, gently scratching his scalp with your nails which earned you a whimper from him. “Go on, fuck yourself. We both know it wouldn’t fit that easily without proper prep,” Expression twisting into a cocky one, your grip on his hair tightened. “I’ll do as I please with your mouth until you’re done.”

Without waiting for his approval, you roughly shoved your cock deep down his throat and moaned loudly, throwing your head back. Jason gagged with a loud whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull and cum shot out from his throbbing cock, hips jutting forward and twitching due to the sudden orgasm. You chuckle lowly, amusement and lust glinting in your bright red eyes, before you pull back and ram on his throat again.

Jason’s cries and moans were muffled as you ruthlessly use his throat to gain pleasure. His mind has already turned into mush from your assaults, white cum and precum staining the floor yet he doesn’t put up a fight. Taking it all like the good, obedient boy that he is. He’s reached behind him to insert two fingers in his awaiting hole, walls clamping down on the digits from the arousal of his throat being utterly wrecked.

Yesyesyes, please. He chanted in his mind. Use me, mark me, cum in my throat, make me yours.

The moment you fulfilled your promise and delivered him the head of his enemy, he was already yours. It’s all he ever wanted. Unquenchable thirst that always gnawed on his throat and hunger that left his stomach restless, his soul practically teared in half from being battered and beaten. He matters now — mattered enough to you, that you went ahead and killed the source of his misery. The love exploding in his chest was almost unbearable; he was already high on cloud nine from the moment he’s seen you present the head so cheerfully.

You see how he looks up at you, emerald eyes almost displaying hearts with how much he was melting. He’s taken your murderous act as an affection, and you couldn’t be more happy, because it’s what you intended.

“Shit, baby… Gonna cum soon,” You panted, thrusting vigorously. Jason hums and flexes his throat to provide you more pleasure, making you tighten the grip on his hair. “You want me to cum down your throat?”

You earned a desperate whine from him, closing his eyes to prove he was waiting for it. His fingers kept their own assault on his prostate, scissoring and stretching the squishy walls, muffled moans escaping him.

God, he looked so fucking gorgeous. He’d look even more gorgeous with your dick ramming inside him.

Jason feels your big cock throb in his mouth and his fingers move more aggressively to pleasure himself, wanting to reach his high at the same time as you. Stimulating your tip with the back of his throat a few times, you moaned loudly with a curse when Jason slightly flicks his tongue over your sensitive underside, forcing an orgasm out of your body. White, thick, warm seeds spurt out from your slit to his awaiting throat as Jason whimpered in delight and shot another layer of cum on the wet stained floor, hips thrusting in the air.

He greedily swallows every drop that spilled down his mouth despite the euphoria making him feel dizzy as his body slightly trembles.

You chuckled, breathing heavily, pleased expression spread across your face. “Good boy. That was such a good throat-fuck.”

The raspy, sultry tone of your voice makes electricity and chills run through Jason’s spine as his walls clench down on his fingers, yearning to be filled. Jason certainly doesn’t have a womb — it’s anatomically impossible — yet he couldn’t help but feel like it’s there, waiting and aching to be fucked and bred. He needs your cum to be pushed so far inside him. Need to be marked entirely as yours inside and out. Need you to rearrange his guts, fuck his brains out, breed him full, then fuck your cum further back into him.

Jason pulled his fingers out, whimpering at the loss of contact, before looking back up at you with begging eyes. “Can you-?” His voice cracks as he swallows, “Take me apart, please. Make me yours, fuck, I wanna be yours.”

You noticed tears gathering in his eyes, as if being rejected of his want to be your possession would be an ultimate heartbreak in his life; a life-threatening, gnawing thorn in his heart that’ll tear him apart piece by piece and shredding his soul. Jason thinks he can’t live without becoming yours, his savior’s. He can’t live without the source of his safety, the man that fulfilled his silly little dream and sacrificed his own sanity for it.

It absolutely amuses you that he’s become so attached just because you’ve driven him away from harm’s way. A little dumb, but he was your little dumb doll.

You gently caress his face and Jason leans into your touch, making your lips curl upwards into a smile. “Of course, doll.”

It leads to Jason being pressed face first on the mattress as you rail him from behind, sinful and alluring noises leaving his lips stained in drool. Your name escapes him like a chanted prayer, hands gripping the sheets, electricity sparking within his mind that left him dumb and unable to think coherently.

“Fuh-fuck! mgh, ah- yes, oh my god—!” He cries out when you pulled almost entirely back and rammed your cock roughly into him, almost seeing stars in his vision.

The roughness in which you handled him, the perfect angle of your hips allowing you to force pleasure out of his body every-time you thrust, the way you push his back down on the mattress to make him arch more into your merciless tactic, leaves Jason absolutely delirious. You didn’t just fuck him good; you fucked him with absolute vigor and violence, occasionally biting strongly on his shoulder to draw blood, showcasing your natural instincts as a serial killer. He feels your big fucking dick throb and gets impossibly bigger inside him each time his blood seeps out the broken skin, and Jason’s head spins at how much it drove arousal in his core.

“Good fuckin’ sex toy,” You grunted, roughly slamming your hips against his and causing a sharp moan to erupt from Jason.

“B-big—! s’too big- fuck!” Jason whines, tears spilling endlessly down his cheeks.

You smirk as you feel your ego skyrocket at being able to reduce a rather muscular man into nothing but a whining, blabbering bitch. “Yeah? I do split you open, don’t I? But you love it since you’re such a fuckin’ slut.”

“oh- aghn! y-yours— hnngh! Your s-slut! No one else’s-!” He chokes out, desperately reaching for you behind him.

“So fuckin’ adorable,” You chuckled and grabbed his hand, pinning it back to the mattress as you hover over him. You seem to fit against each other perfectly well, your large and tall body able to encage him that left Jason’s stomach fluttering. He’s taken a lot liking of the fact you’re bigger than him, considering he’s never been the smaller one when he was with others. It gives him a sense of shelter.

“p-please— pleaseplease- oh! cum— fuck… cum in me again!” Jason blabbered.

You can’t help but comply to his request, fastening your pace and drilling more into him. Incoherent sentences spill from his drooling mouth when he feels your cock pulse within his walls that signified your soon release. There’s a purpose in which you thrust your hips now — more sharp and angled yet a little sloppy, aimed to brush against his prostate and make him feel utterly good.

“Shit… Cummin’, doll.” You grunted right in his ear before shoving him on the mattress by the back of his nape and slamming all the way down on his already gaping hole.

Jason nearly screams, voice cracking, as his orgasm hits like a strong tide of wave at the same time you spilled thick layer of white semen into his fucked out guts. You ride out your orgasm by thrusting slowly a few times as Jason’s body violently shakes from the aftershock. He subconsciously whines in annoyance when some of your previous cum seems to overflow and replaced by your recent one, bucking his hips as if to use your big cock as a plug to keep them all in. His belly felt full from how much you’ve been filling him with your seed yet it still didn’t feel enough. Jason wanted more; he knew you weren’t going full on him yet.

You swiftly turned him around on his back without pulling out and kissed him roughly. Jason mewls into the kiss when the position makes you push more deeper into him, his hands immediately clasping at the back of his thick thighs to pull them up and make it easier for you to fuck.

“My cute little thing,” You murmured against his lips and bit the skin to draw blood, Jason’s hole squeezing down on you from both the pain and pet name. He greedily whimpers your name, holding onto you for life and yearning for more of you despite already receiving what he wants.

It was so fucking adorable and arousing to see him desperate for not just you, but your entire being as well, willing to welcome such darkness with open arms and tearful smile. You weren’t really a desirable person; so many people have thrown themselves at you for your conventionally attractive features and masculine body type that swoons hundreds yet cower away in fear and speak of you in disgrace when shown the demons living inside of you. No one could seem to look past your murderous, cold-blooded psychopathy — some have attempted to, which only resulted in your darkness growing bigger when they break their own promises. You weren’t meant to be loved. Your destiny was written in the stars and the Gods have cursed you with eternity of living in loneliness and madness without cure. You were meant to be feared, a lonely and violent soul that couldn’t be tamed, your sole purpose of existence being a destroyer; nothing more or less.

Jason, however, seems indifferent to your fate.

Instead of running away in disgust and fear at your acts of violence around the city, he was seeking for you. He’s seen what you’ve done, what you could do without feeling remorse, what monsters lie beneath your existence — and still, he graciously opens his heart (and legs) for you. There’s love and desire within his eyes where distaste should be, touch so soft and warm it baptizes your tainted skin. You’re soaked in blood yet Jason takes his time with you to clean them up. Born with thorns yet he willingly prickles his fingers on them.

You’re a danger everywhere you go, but to him, you were home.

It makes your heart clench; he’s broken the Gods curse and it costs him his freedom, because now he’s caught up in your webs. You wouldn’t let him go, like a snake that’s wrapped itself around its prey in a death grip.

Jason wanted to be yours. What better ways to fulfill his wish if not possessing his body, soul, and spirit?

“Sweet dumb thing,” You purred, hips thrusting slow and sensual, unable to forgive parts of his walls that weren’t touched by your cum. “Mine to fuck, ruin, or make love to. That’s right, yeah?”

Jason nods, moaning softly. Your hands now replaced where his were on the back of his thighs, bending him almost in half as you roll your hips to gently brush against every weak spot he has. The sudden shift in rhythm and atmosphere confuses Jason for a bit, his fogged mind unable to comprehend the situation at hand, but the intimacy strikes a further pleasure that was nearly mind-breaking. He’s been reduced to a moaning mess, blood, sweat, tears and cum coating his body.

“p-please,” Jason keened, like it felt agonizing to be loved ever so gently. “I— ah… I want- I want you,” He stuttered out between moans.

“You’re having me, aren’t you?” Replying, you nipped on his neck and sucked, leaving behind a purple bruise.

He nearly cries, shaking his head. A waterfall of tears streamed down his face, and you find yourself captivated by them. It was almost ethereal despite being one of human’s responses to most things imaginable; your victims always shed one or two accompanied by begs of mercy, but all you’ve ever thought of them was amusing. It’s been used as an escaping tactic from you before, which was never successful due to your lack of morality and sympathy towards your target. They were pathetic, but Jason was divine. Tears suited him— not tears of fear, but tears of pleasure and utopia.

Your focus snaps back on reality when Jason suddenly pulled you down by the nape and bit down hard on your shoulder. A pleasured groan leaves your lips at the pain, hips bucking, making him whimper.

“Jason—”

“Please,” He cuts you off and finally murmurs; “Wanna f-feel how… mhm-! how you actually love…”

It strikes something in your core. Despite your perfect skills of hiding your true nature and never being caught, Jason saw it right through you, how you were holding yourself back for his sake. Quite ironic to witness a cold-blooded killer care for someone enough to go soft, even though it looked like you were going rough on him, and it warmed Jason’s heart. But he was a greedy, fucked up human being who wanted all of you. It wouldn’t be enough until he knows he’s taken you fully.

An amused laughter erupts from your chest. Eyes darkening in lust, Jason feels one of your hands wrap around his throat warningly as the other pushed his torso flat down on the mattress. “You… You’ll be the fuckin’ death of me, Todd.”

You pull all the way back before ramming in, making Jason let out a loud, choked up moan as his eyes rolled back into his head. Your thrusts relentless and powerful, slamming against Jason’s body with an intensity that made his head spin, your hand holding his throat as a leverage. Your name spills from his lips like a prayer, something that seems to ignite a possessive feeling within you. Jason can’t help but mewl when your grip tightened on his arteries, throwing his head back to let you gain fully control.

The way he’s so obedient and putty in your hands despite knowing you can kill him if you truly meant to makes you love him even more, fucking him and taking away his ability to breathe wasn’t enough. Greediness turning overboard with the darkness and psychopathy that lies within your existence; you almost wanted to cut him open and crawl inside his guts so you could truly claim Jason, inside and out. You wanted to be more closer to him, see how far you can go without Jason pushing you away or getting disturbed.

Jason’s eyes widened when a cold metallic silver touched his cheek, seeing you holding your signature knife through blurred vision from his tears. However, he doesn’t flinch away like you expected him to, instead his walls squeezes down on your cock and his own twitched against his stomach. The unexpected reaction pulls a loud groan out of you, your hips bucking.

“Shit, Jay… You lettin’ me kill you or somethin’? Good fucking cunt just tightened on me,” You rasped, thrusting your cock against his prostate.

Jason gasps, his hands grabbing the mattress and holding it in a tight grip. It’s so shameful how turned on he was at the danger that lurked around you, his usually sharp instincts relinquished to be replaced by naiveté and stupidity for love. He must’ve gone insane; getting killed was one of his triggers because of his past yet his soul yielded nothing in retaliation to the possibility of your blade slicing through him. All of him seems to have come to love and trust you too much just because you’ve decapitated the beast his entire existence feared, which a part of him found utterly ridiculous and idiotic, but not enough to stop.

He wouldn’t stop himself from loving you — not when you’ve given him the love he always yearned for.

You lean in and ghost your lips over his as you dragged the knife on his torso, lightly scraping him. Jason’s breath quickens, his pupils blown wide in lust and need, anticipation seemingly running through his body as his moans turned into desperate whines.

“p-please…!” He chokes out a whisper, rolling his head to the side and whimpering when you snapped your hips warningly on his. “feels— fuck! feels g-good—! c-carve me… hngh! carve me u-up-! shit… make me fuckin’ bleed…! please,” Jason nearly cries for you.

Groaning out a curse, you reflexively bite down hard on the crook of his neck and push more of your cock inside him, causing a loud keen to erupt from Jason as he squirms and cums on his own stomach at the addictive sense of pleasure and pain shooting through his body.

You licked the blood that seeped out from his skin, satisfied at the clear bite mark you’ve left visible before sensually grinding your hips. Jason whimpered quietly, his body still trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“That’s it, doll. Let go, feel good. m’not gonna hurt ya, sweetheart. It’ll all feel good,” Whispering sweet words, you slowly press the tip of the knife just above the v line of his hip and drag it down. Jason hissed at the prickle of pain and tensed up, but the pleasure of your cock stimulating his sensitive walls was too great that forced him to relax. “It’s alright, doll. Jus’ carving you up with my name, so you’ll be mine forever. Isn’t that what you want? Be fuckin’ mine?”

Jason moaned softly, nodding his head. Series of pleasepleaseplease blabber out of him accompanied by heavenly noises he’s been making since you started taking him apart, his brain too fucked out that forcibly twisted pain into pleasure as all he could think about was becoming yours. You, his savior, his God, claiming him by marking him up with your name. Jason feels like he could fucking squirt from just that thought alone.

His blood seeping out from the letters of your name arouses you to no end, your cock throbbing inside him while you continue to move, the darkness within you being thoroughly fed of its bloodthirsty hunger. This is the first time it doesn’t gnaw at your skin to drive your knife deeper, pull the guts out, and splatter redness everywhere; instead, it wanted to be gentle, as if Jason was a significant existence too precious to hurt even for the Devil. A proof that Jason was always meant to be yours, the only one who the monster inside you would rather love than kill.

Carving the last letter, you laughed breathlessly in satisfaction and stabbed the knife on the headboard before slamming your lips against his, devouring his pleasurable noises. Jason whines, arms wrapping around your neck to pull you impossibly closer, arching his back when you switched into a much faster and rougher pace.

“Cummin’, fuck!” You grunted, to which Jason wrapped his legs around your hips to make sure it stays in.

“I-in— in me… fuck- oh my god— please… please, cum in me. Make me full again, p-please…” He begs, clenching his walls around you to push you over the edge, his own orgasm nearing.

Seeing him covered in his own tears, sweat, blood and drool fills you with nothing but pure ecstasy knowing it’s all because of you. The most appealing, ravishing man being a slutty mess right beneath you, begging to be bred and full of your cum, does feed too much into your ego. No one can do anything to take you away from him now, because you’re wrapped around his fingers as much as he is around yours.

“Anythin’ for ya, doll.” You chuckled, thrusting a couple more times before shoving your twitching cock deep into his guts with a moan and releasing your load. Jason mewls, his hole throbbing and squeezing down on you as he throws his head back, tainting his abdomen once more.

Riding out both of your highs, you let out a raspy groan and kissed his lips again, Jason weakly reciprocating due to the overstimulation. His body trembled hard, mind almost shutting down from the exhaustion and too much euphoria. “So good, doll. Took me like a good fuckin’ boy. Fuckin’ amazing.” You praised.

Jason could still see darkness in your eyes, the murderous devil, but there’s a hint of happiness he didn’t recognize before. Love and adoration filled your expression despite the violence engraved in your soul, and Jason finds himself smiling against your lips lightheadedly.

He whispers your name like a forbidden secret, then a curse that completely binds you to him; “I love you.”

You could get used to this, you suppose. There’s nothing more poetic than violence meeting love — two opposites can’t coexist with each other, but perhaps it’ll be forced to. After all, the Devil in you decided he was an untouchable divinity no one shall ever harm, not even yourself, despite its never-ending monstrosity towards humanity.

“I love you too, my Jason.”

When Joker’s decapitated head on a makeshift spear turned up that night, stacked upright in front of Arkham Asylum with blood splattered across the ground in words ‘True Justice for the Tortured Souls’ and a bloody ghostface mask laid aside for everyone else to see, Jason knew he was now in safe hands.

People say, never make a deal with the devil.

They never said he couldn’t love one, did they?

© all rights reserved to hadesrise ──── stealing, plagiarizing, or using my works for monetary gain is strictly prohibited. ask permission before reposting or translating.

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Just thinking about how both platonic! yan! Dick and Jason have a habit of laying on top of their batsis and crushing her.

just look at how guilty they are....

Masterlist

Requests: open

Dick is a menace. He's a full sized golden retriever who thinks he's still a puppy. When he jumps or lays on you to try to be all affectionate...he forgets that he weighs close to if not over two hundred pounds.

No matter how often you tell him he's way too big to do this, he doesn't care.

He just loves engulfing you in these full body hugs and cannot help himself. It's cute though, if you try not to think about your lungs collapsing on itself. He acts innocent by nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck,,,,but it's a ploy to then attack you with tickles which leads to play fighting.

I mean it's his brotherly duty to be as annoying as possible. Sometimes he just likes the fact hes stronger than you and can hold you down this easily. Rookie mistake to announce you need to use the bathroom or get ready for something when you're chilling on the couch. He will trap you until the last possible second.

As much as you complain and cry, don't mind it too much. It's nice to be apart of a real family like this and Dick is trying to show his love by playing.

Jason on the other hand is just kind of clueless about the fact he's crushing you. You're sitting on the couch and Jason comes home after a long night and sees a perfect napping spot..

You don't really want to tell him that he's wayyy too big to just plop down on you like that because it's nice that he's feeling safe enough to just do these things now.

He also is like a big dog. He does that big huff and occasional twitching in his sleep. lol

Sometimes you'll also fall asleep right with him because he's basically a human weighted blanket. You'll eventually wake to him looking up at you. It's subtle but there's a soft smile there. He's happy you feel safe too.

I like to think he desperately wants to be held sometimes but he doesn't know that he needs it or even how to ask so he just does it. You naturally wrap your arms around and rest them on him anyways. He's like a little kid when he does this. It heals something inside of him. His cold un-dead body, finally feeling an ounce of fuzzy warmth.

Do you think sometimes Jason will pull a snack or something out of his pocket. Like he lays on you but then pulls out a jolly rancher as an offering. lol. One moment he's sleeping and the next you can feel him munching on something crunchy.

[zyhkoo]

☆ everything i know about love

dick grayson and jason todd x fem!reader (separate)

they drunkenly propose

a/n: i was inspired by this fic my friend showed me, i hope you guys like this one!

Jason todd

Jason never understood the fuss about marriage. Just a piece of jewelry and some vows, and you're suddenly yoked to someone for life. No thanks. He had more important things to worry about than tying the knot. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom far too much to be tied down like that.

Why commit to one person when the world is full of interesting people to meet and adventures to be had? Jason preferred to live life on his own terms, without the constraints of a ring on his finger.

His secret identity as Red Hood only added to the list of reasons why marriage didn't fit into Jason's plans. His life was dangerous and unpredictable, and he couldn't risk the safety of a loved one by involving them in his shadowy world. Plus, balancing a marriage and a secret life as a crime-fighter would be nearly impossible. It was better for everyone involved if Jason continued his nocturnal escapades alone.

Surprisingly enough, Jason found himself softening his stance while dating you. It wasn’t like he suddenly became a relationship enthusiast overnight, but he couldn’t deny the subtle change in his perspective.

Though marriage still seemed like a far-off possibility, Jason realized that a fulfilling relationship didn't necessarily require a ring. He was content with the way things were, cherishing the connection he had with you and the moments they shared. The idea of a wedding might still make him a bit nervous, but he knew what mattered most was the happiness you shared in the present.

As the buzz about your relationship grew, the questions about when you were getting married started to come up more frequently. Your friends would throw subtle hints during conversations, or nosy family members would outright ask, expecting a firm timeline. Jason felt the pressure, too. The constant reminders of marriage were like a nagging voice in the back of his mind, pushing him to make a decision he wasn’t ready for. The pressure was mounting, but Jason stubbornly held onto his reservations.

Then, it hit him. Wedding fever.

The last wedding the two of you attended was your best friend’s. You couldn't believe it when you accidentally caught the bouquet at your best friend's wedding. It was just a silly tradition, nothing more. At least, that's what you thought. Little did you know, the effect of the bouquet would hit someone unexpected: Jason.

Suddenly, the mere touch of that bouquet ignited a strange fervor within him. A fever for the idea of marriage, something he had vehemently opposed in the past. Jason watched as your friends and family playfully teased you about catching the bouquet, but his mind was elsewhere. He stood there, dumbfounded, as if the sight of you with that bouquet had somehow changed everything.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of confusion and newfound desire. How could a simple bouquet have such an impact on him? He was the guy who never wanted to get married, and now he was practically salivating at the thought. What was happening to him?

When he had too much to drink, you dragged him back to the hotel room.

You gently pulled Jason into the hotel room, his body leaning heavily against yours as the alcohol dulled his senses. You decided to undress him so he'd be more comfortable, unbuttoning his polo shirt while his breath tickled your neck. But as you reached the last button, Jason suddenly leaned forward and pressed a desperate, hungry kiss against your lips.

You were caught off guard by his sudden move, but you couldn't resist the passion behind the kiss. You returned his kiss, your lips responding tenderly and gently meeting him. As he pulled away, your heart skipped a beat as Jason looked into your eyes, his words slurred but his gaze steady. "Marry me," he said.

Here he was, the man who had once been so skeptical about marriage, proposing to you in the midst of a drunken stupor. You couldn't believe what you were hearing, you were absolutely baffled. You stammered, trying to find the right words to say. “What?” you muttered.

"I said, marry me," he repeated as he gripped your wrist. “M’ serious," he insisted, as if trying to convince himself just as much as he was trying to convince you.

You couldn't help but stand there with your mouth open, in disbelief at the words that were coming out of his mouth. This was the same man who had been adamantly against the idea of marriage just a few hours ago, and now he was drunkenly proposing to you! Jason's lips grazed against your fingers, his breath warm and words slurred but still filled with a sweet intensity. "Come on," he muttered, clinging to your hand. "Just say yes."

You could feel the nerves in your voice as you struggled to find the right words. "Wow, uh...I'd love to say yes, but maybe we should call it a day first. Let's talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Jason's eyes softened as he looked at you, his drunken state making it difficult for him to comprehend your words. But he nodded, albeit reluctantly. "In the morning," he repeated, his voice slurring. "But m’ serious, I do want to marry you." You gave him a small, reassuring smile. "I know you're serious," you said softly, gently stroking his hair. "We'll talk about it in the morning, when you're sober, okay?"

Dick Grayson

It all began with a simple birthday surprise from Dick– a beautiful white cake that bore an uncanny resemblance to a wedding dress. Unintentionally, it planted the seed of wedding fever in Dick's mind. Slowly, the realization dawned upon him, sparking a subtle yet determined desire to make his love for you official.

Dick found himself wrestling with how to broach the subject. While you had occasionally mentioned a future together, marriage had never explicitly entered the picture in your conversations. He pondered how to bring up the idea without catching you off guard.

Late one night, after an evening of bonding with his siblings over a few drinks, Dick returned to the cozy abode he shared with you. In his grip, he clutched a single daisy, its delicate white petals gently swayed with each movement. As he stepped inside, he revealed a paper ring resting on his palm, its simplicity belying the depth of emotion he wanted to convey.

You looked down at the paper ring in Dick's hand with puzzlement in your eyes. "What is this?" you asked. His heart thumped in his chest as he saw your confused eyes. He took a step closer, the petals of the flower trailing across your skin. A gentle smile played on his lips as he slurred, “It’s a ring, f’ course.”

He held the ring up, offering it to you. “I want to…” he trails his words. “You want to..?” you continued his sentence. He looks into your eyes, the paper ring still offered in his hand. He’s taking in the sight of you, wearing nothing more than a pair of sleep shorts and one of his old t-shirts, with your hair messy on your head.

“I… I want to marry you,” he says quietly.

You replied quickly, “Sure.” you said casually. A hint of surprise flickered in Dick's eyes. He had braced himself for a range of potential reactions, but this one had caught him off guard. Dick's mouth hung open for a moment, and for a split second he was at a loss for words. "Sure?" he repeated, his voice laced with a mixture of disbelief and a touch of confusion. He looked at you in slight surprise, his mind processing the unexpected simplicity of your response.

“Yeah,” you replied as you held his hand. “Let’s get married.”

His mind raced, trying to process the unexpected simplicity of your response. He’d been expecting a little bit more discussion, maybe even some tears, yet here you were, casually agreeing to his impromptu proposal. He stared down at you, a mix of surprise and elation flooding his expression. He looked at your hand holding his thumb running against the back of your hand.

“Just like that?” he chuckled, a bit breathlessly. You only smiled softly, “Why wouldn’t I marry someone like you?” you told him. “Let’s get you to bed, you’re gonna have a massive hangover tomorrow.”

He looked down at the paper ring on his hand, then back at you. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, as he took your hand in his, and placed the ring upon your finger. “Now it’s official,” he chuckled, looking down at the simple paper ring on your finger.

💍 discord server please like and reblog!

[captainsophiestark]

Vigilante Book Club

Jason Todd x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist! - Part 2 Part 3

Written for my personal fic writing challenge for 2024, Sophie's Year of Fic! Featuring a new fic being posted every Friday, all year long :)

Fandom: DC

Summary: After having an all-around terrible day, the only person who might be able to make it better is a certain book-loving vigilante.

Word Count: 1,562

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I sighed heavily as the tomato I'd set on the counter and turned my back on for two seconds rolled onto the floor and went splat. Some days were just meant to be shitty, apparently.

Today had started out perfectly nice and ordinary. The sun had even been shining, which was a miracle in itself sometimes in Gotham. But then, I'd left my bag unattended at the coffee shop while grabbing my order from the counter, before returning to my table. It didn't have anything legitimately valuable in it, in terms of what the thief got, but it did have my favorite copy of my favorite book, which I'd had for the better part of a decade. All my little notes, bookmarked favorite pages, and the first edition put into print before a few typos and errors were corrected on later runs; in other words, irreplacable. And now it was gone forever.

The rest of my day had likewise been terrible, although normally mundane events might've been colored a little by the loss of my book. Now, all I wanted to do was eat something I liked and then immediately go to bed. And even that wasn't going to plan.

I huffed, setting down the knife I'd grabbed when I turned my back on the tomato and intending to replace it with some paper towels. I froze mid-turn, however, at the sound of the window in my hallway sliding open. Because of course this day hadn't ended yet.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, I turned back to the counter and picked up the knife. I knew I'd locked that window, but apparently someone had managed to just quietly and easily slide it open. That wasn't a good sign.

I crept across the kitchen, tensed and ready to run at a moment's notice as I neared the corner to the hallway. I wanted to see who or what I might be dealing with, while also being prepared to run if I needed to.

I paused at the edge of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. Finally, I mustered up the courage to slowly lean around the corner to peek into the hallway. When I did, I found someone standing much, much closer than I'd been expecting them to be.

"AH!" I screamed, jumping back while brandishing the knife out in front of me. I made it halfway across the room in one leap as the person in my house shifted backwards too.

"Shit," he swore, voice slightly distorted by the vocal modulator in his very recognizable helmet. The Red Hood. Standing in my apartment, apparently after having broken through my window.

I lowered my knife slightly and stopped in my living room, just a few steps from my kitchen. I wasn't completely relaxed, but in general, the Red Hood seemed to have a helpful, non-dangerous-if-you're-not-evil reputation. But he'd also just broken into my house.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demanded. Red Hood held up his hands to show he was unarmed, and apparently also to answer my question: he held a familiar bag I thought I'd never see again in his hand.

"Sorry for scaring you. I didn't think anyone was here, I was planning to just drop this off and go. But I busted some black market smugglers today, and one of their lower-ranking guys had this. Seemed like something you might want back."

I barely let him get through the end of his sentence before I dropped the knife on the nearest table and rushed across the room to grab my bag. I yanked it open while it was still in Red Hood's hands, peering inside with my heart hammering in my chest. I almost collapsed on the spot when I found my book inside, looking exactly the way I'd left it.

"Oh thank goodness!" I cried. I turned back to Red Hood, still clutching my book tight. "Thank you so much for bringing this back to me! I was heartbroken when it got taken."

Red Hood just shrugged. "Glad I could help."

He started shifting back towards the door, carefully setting my bag and the rest of its contents down on the counter, but I couldn't just let him leave like that. He'd quite literally saved my day; I wanted to do something for him in return.

"Wait! Can I... offer you dinner, or something?" I asked. "I was about to start making some tacos..."

Red Hood's gaze drifted to the kitchen as mine did, landing on the pitiful start I'd made on dinner and the tomato still on the floor. I couldn't be totally sure because of the helmet, but I thought I heard him snort.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but that doesn't look anything like dinner. Maybe next time I bust some criminals I'll find a cookbook I can bring you."

I scoffed in mock-indignation, but I couldn't quite hide a smile all the same.

"I know how to cook, alright? Today's just been... a little rough. Until you brought my book back, at least!"

Red Hood chuckled. "Well, I'm glad I could help. Makes my day a lot better, too."

We shared a smile (I assumed, since I couldn't technically see his face), then I lit up as a shock of inspiration hit me.

"Oh! What if I let you borrow this book!" I cried. "It's absolutley fantastic, I promise you won't forget it. Since you knew it was important, I'm assuming you're a reader?"

He stared at me, looking a bit taken aback.

"I'm a very big reader, but... you'd actually let me borrow this?"

He gestured to the book still clutched tightly in my hand, and I whipped it up to my chest again, holding it tight to me.

"Hell no! I won't let anyone borrow this copy, ever. But I have a loaner copy I've used to get my friends invested in the story that I'd be happy to share with you. And... maybe you could come back when you're done reading it, and we could talk about it? Maybe over dinner? I promise I'm a better cook than the current state of my kitchen would suggest."

He didn't respond right away, to the point that I started to get a little nervous. Maybe he'd really wanted to leave when he'd first started heading back to the window, and didn't want anything to do with me or this conversation. Just when I started crafting something to say to let him off the hook, he finally spoke up again.

"...As long as you're sure it wouldn't be an inconvenience for you."

"What? Of course I'm sure! If you're interested, I'd love someone else to talk to about my favorite book. And I'd still love to make you dinner as a thank you for bringing this back to me."

Red Hood nodded. "Okay. That'd be nice, thanks."

"Sure thing. Let me go and grab you my other copy of this book, one second."

I ducked into my bedroom, going straight to the bedside table and carefully setting down my copy of my favorite book. No way I wanted to take a single risk of anything happening to it again.

Once that book was safe, I turned to my brimming bookshelf to grab the copy for Red Hood. Only a fellow reader would understand the importance of returning the copy he brought back to me, and honestly, I couldn't wait to hear his thoughts on the story after his first read through.

I returned to the hallway and handed the book over with a smile. Red Hood took it, tucking it safely away in a deceptively large pocket in his hero suit.

"Thanks," he said. "I'll come back in... a week?"

My eyebrows shot up. "Is that enough time for you to read it?"

"Of course. I've gotta do something to fill the time I'm not running around catching book thieves."

I smiled, and I got the distinct impression that Red Hood was doing the same. After a moment, he cleared his throat, and started heading back towards the window again.

"Anyway... thanks for the book. I'll see you next week."

"See you next week! Bring your thoughts on the book, and maybe a different mask so you can actually eat dinner."

He chuckled. "Don't worry, I wasn't planning to try to force it under the hood."

"Good. And feel free to use the door instead of the window next time!"

He just waved, clearly making no commitment as he stepped out onto the fire escape. I smiled as I watched him go, waving back when he met my eyes and shut the window. I moved closer and watched him as long as I could before he disappeared over the rooftops, off into the night for whatever other vigilante stuff he had to do tonight.

I sighed, staying at the window for another moment to process the past ten minutes. Everything had started to feel like a hallicination, possibly brought on by my truly terrible day.

No matter what, though, I could reassure myself it was real with the newly-returned book on my bedside table, or the knife I'd left in my living room. Somehow, my precious copy of my favorite story had made its way back to me. And even better, I now had a date with a vigilante scheduled to address said book.

I just needed to figure out what dinner went with 'Red Hood comes over to discuss literature'.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen

DC Taglist: @gaychaosgremlin

[teddypines]

Fight

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sumary: Dick and Batmom!reader got into a fight which upset both of them in the end.

Dick x Batmom!reader, Fem!reader (Use of she/her pronounce)

Note: Dick might be a bit out of character in this. Art/picture is from Pintrest, credits go to whoever made it.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“Get back here, Richard!” Y/N yelled as Dick stormed off towards his room. The two of them had been in a fight. Dick had gotten really hurt on a patrol, but refused to seek medical attention. This, of course, upsetting Y/N. Hating to see one of her birds hurt like this. Yes, Dick was the oldest. yes he was old enough to deal with things on his own, but not with injuries like this. "Richard! Don’t you dare walk away right now!” Y/N yelled after Dick as she walked up the stairs. 

Dick ignored Y/N as he continued to struggle with walking towards his room. “Richard Grayson!!” Y/N yelled out one last time before Dick turned around to face Y/N. “Stop it! i am fine! I don't need you to baby me!” Dick hissed at Y/N. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but no Y/N needed to be a worried mother hen. “Just let me sleep! I do not need to be patched up!”

“Dick have you looked into a mirror? You look like hell, you need medical attention. Those wounds will get infected.” Y/N answered while trying to reach out for Dick. “I don’t need that, now stop being so annoying and let me be”

“Dickie, come on, please you really need to clean those. I am your mother, let me help you” Y/N Said, her anger slowly fading more and more as she looked at the beaten up boy. Something snapped in Dick’s tired mind and he got furious. “You are not my mother! Stop acting like you are!” Dick didn’t realize what he had said, because he turned around too fast to see the upset look on Y/N’s face. “I… I’m sorry Dick, i’ll let you be.” She said before Dick slammed his bedroom door shut. 

Y/N turned around and slowly walked towards the master bedroom, tears rolling down her face as she crawled into bed. After a while Bruce joined her in bed and wrapped his arms around her. “What’s wrong, love? Did something happen with Dick?” Bruce asked, but he didn’t get an answer. not until the next morning. Bruce understood Y/N didn’t want to talk about it just yet and just held her even closer to him.

<----------------------------------------------------------------------->

The next morning Y/N did come down for breakfast, but she was rather quiet. Not like her usual self, not telling Damian to not mess with his brothers or telling Jason to put his book down. Everyone noticed but Dick. He was still upset, but he did feel bad. Once he shut his door last night he realized what he had said and that broke him more than the wounds he had. Breakfast was quiet but not awkward. 

After breakfast Y/N just got ready for work and waved Damian and Tim goodbye as they went to school. She kissed Bruce’s cheek when he went to work. Dick looked on as Y/N did her normal routine, only feeling left out since they didn’t give him his hug.

“Mom?” Dick called out to Y/N, but she didn’t answer, too busy getting her bag ready. Dick carefully tapped Y/N’s shoulder which made her stop packing her bag. “Yes?” She answered a bit on the dry side. “Mom… I…” Dick started but he couldn’t find the right words. “It’s okay, Dick, you don’t have to call me mom if you don’t want to.” Y/N said, upsetting them both in the process. She gave Dick a sad smile before leaving for work. 

Dick sighs and gets ready for uni. “What was that?!” Jason asked shocked as he looked at Dick from the living room. He had a day off so he was going to do nothing all day, maybe bother Alfred a bit. “Nothing.” Dick answered his brother. “That was most definitely not nothing!” Jason gasped. “Oh my god, you and mom had a fight!”

“We did not have a fight,” Dick said as he shoved one of his books into his bag. “I just said something I regret…” Jason narrowed his eyes and glared at Dick. “What did you say?”

Dick groaned a bit when he stretched his arm the wrong way when grabbing another book to put in his bag. “I might have said that she wasn't my mom so she should stop acting like it” This made Jason gasp. “Yeah, I know, I screwed up...”

<---------------------------------------------------------------------->

A few days go by in which both Dick and Y/N are upset over what happened, everyone saw it. Dick did get some medical attention for his wounds but the sad smile Y/N wore that week hurt more than anything else. Dick sighed and started to make his way around the manor in search of Y/N. He eventually found her in the Batcave looking over some files and homework Damian did. He carefully sat down next to her at the Batcomputer. “Mom?” He said, which made Y/N turn her head towards Dick. “I’m sorry mom. I never meant to yell at you or say you’re not my mother. Because I do love you as my mom even with my own mom being, well not here… I was just so tired and patrol didn’t go well, and uni wasn’t great that day and… and.. I just don’t know anymore. But I don’t want you to be upset… That hurts…” Dick said through his tears.

Dick was surprised when he felt two arms around him. Y/N held Dick close to her. “I forgive you, sweetie, but please don’t ever say it again. It really hurts, when all I wanted to do was make sure you were taken care of. Maybe I shouldn't have yelled, though.” Y/N said as she slowly leaned back and started to whip Dick’s tears away with her thumb. She carefully leaned over and kissed Dick’s forehead. “I love you, Bluebird.”

“I love you too, ma”

[impyssadobsessions]

Ahh I'm so glad I got to draw this! The Guess that Artist event in Haunting Heroes discord really gave me a reason to revisit this oneshot, Some Things You Just Can't Speak about by starfirez. Its just such a cute short story. I tried to make the change obvious. And I know the lighting doesn't show, but I purposely made Jason's palette red and Dick's cool tone to match who he was going to turn into >w< There somethings im not completely happy with but I adore how baby jason came out <3

Some Things You Just Can’t Speak About (4399 words) by starfirez Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: DCU (Comics), Batman (Comics) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Fluff and Humor, Batfamily (DCU), playstation as a metaphor for love, just run with it please, Sibling Bonding Summary: "Go away Bruce, I ain’t talking to you," Jason said hotly. "Not Bruce," Dick replied, trying not to be offended by the mistake as Jason lifted the sheet to examine him. "Just me." "Yeah," Jason agreed, almost bitterly. "Just you." The more things change, the more they stay the same.

[glamourscat]

MISTLETOE | jason todd x reader

oneshot | just jason being a bad liar | inspired by one of my hcs

words: 484

“Todd, you’re ignoring me” you say, your voice is calm but with a little edge, as you walk towards him. It’s new year, he had dragged you to the manor for the new year’s gala, which neither of you wanted to attend to begin with, but still here you are. With your best friend being weird the whole night; you chasing him the whole night.

And now finally alone, you managed to catch him outside on the balcony of the third floor of Bruce’s manor in the dead of winter.

“No, i am not” he huffs out, his eyes locked to the city lights in the distance.

The cold is pungent and fairly speaking, too strong. But he doesn’t care, he needs a distraction from you, from your lips– especially tonight, as they are tinted with that lipstick of yours that you only wear on special occasion, but that he loves on you.

“You are, stop bullshiting me” you scoff, stopping by his side, staring at the city light too. “You are a terrible liar” you add more quietly after a few seconds

“What is that supposed to mean?” his voice inquisitory, eyebrow up in confusion.

“It means that you, Jason Peter Todd, are full of shit. You drag me here, no offence to Bruce, to this dry ass ball on the 31st of December just to evade my sight the whole night. Spill it, what is it? Have I done something?” your voice is harsher than you intended, but like hell if you’re backing down. You look at him challengingly, begging him silently to open up. Now or never.

As you wait for his answer, your eyes are directed to something on top of the arch structure that rests above your heads. Mistletoe. His eyes follow yours.

“Don’t even think about it”

“Why not? I am not a bad kisser you know” you say, pretending to be offended, while shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Sure you aren’t” he says, his face turning back to the city lights but you did not miss the hint of smile at the corner of his lips.

“You’re smiling” you says, inching closer, an amused grin on your face

“No. I am not” he says, trying to push down the smile

“Yes, you are”

“No, i am not”

In the midst of the back and forth, you’re now in front of him. Head tilted as if you’re studying him.

“Worst liar i know” you teases in a quiet, low, murmur as your nose touch his

His green-blueish eyes light up faintly. The voices in the background fill the silence between them, 10,9,8,7….

“Yeah, maybe I am. But is that such a bad thing?” he whispers against your lips. You opened your mouth, and before your smartass could say anything else-at the count of one- his lips found yours under the mistletoe.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[janluxe]

𝑺𝑬𝑪𝑹𝑬𝑻 𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑨 — 𝑱𝑨𝑺𝑶𝑵 𝑻𝑶𝑫𝑫

– contents; fluff and mostly batfam stuff instead of just romance

– summary; a casually chaotic Secret Santa with the bat family as Jason's partner.

– word count; 1.5k

The roofs of the houses were beginning to gain a white hue as more snowflakes fell gracefully – the children in the city found joy in it, their laughter echoed in the streets while they initiated snowball fights with their friends and neighbors. Adults were busy shopping or grabbing a coffee to catch up in the presence of their loved ones, and the holiday music played in every street. Christmas was known for bringing even the most distant people back together.

A part of you hated how cold it was, but it was your idea to take a walk around the city with your partner before you drove over to the manor for Christmas day like you usually do. However, how can one ignore such events on these joyous days just for their own comfort?

The fuzzy feeling of the gloves around your hands and your coat enveloping you in its warmth was rather enjoyable even if the world outside was freezing while you walked with Jason. A soft sigh escaped you as you finally entered Wayne Manor, welcomed by Alfred opening the door for you and the heat that escaped the inside of the building.

Greetings, hugs, and smiles were exchanged with more excitement than usual while you took your seat on the couch in the main living room amongst the rest of the family – everything was decorated; the tree that you all helped set up, stockings on the fireplace with everyone's names engraved on the soft red fabric and no one can skip Alfred's baked goods resting on the coffee table.

It's odd thinking that a few years back, most of the family members were off doing their own thing instead of being here and spending time with everyone else like Jason avoided them for a good few years before he finally gave in. Now, everyone was present and agreed to have a Secret Santa along with the rest of the activities scheduled for that day.

Tim and Damian were surprisingly getting along, wearing matching Christmas sweaters as well, and then you noticed Dick supervising the two with a proud smile drawn on his face as he kept a conversation with Jason and Steph. Duke was helping Alfred bring in more sweets on the table. Cass and Barbara were calmly chatting with you about various topics and the one at hand; who was Secret Santa for who?

Meanwhile, Bruce observed everyone with a hint of a smile and a sigh as the place filled with chatter and the life it lacked most of the year due to responsibilities, his shoulders relaxed as he was more than happy to host this event annually and welcome his family –and those who he considered family– home.

“Alright everyone, enough of your chit chats. Let's start.” Dick stated, too excited to wait even further as he quickly moved to grab a present from under the tree and took a moment to read the name on it and handed it to Cass, and then kept handing out presents to everyone.

Each family member got something based on their personality, training, or hobby, and some presents were filled with meme cards describing them. Eager chuckles echoed in the room before Bruce interrupted.

“Who got that for Damian?” He asked in a mockingly firm tone as he pointed at the young boy swaying a katana similar to the one he had when he got trained by his grandfather in his hands. Just before anyone could answer, Barbara did everyone a favor and started playing Christmas music through the speakers set by the tree.

Jason scoffed at the sight of Bruce's dynamic with Damian – it had been a while since a youngling had given him a heart attack, enjoying the show and unwrapping his present. His hands traced the hardcover of the book as he lifted it up and read the title; ‘All the light we cannot see’ which had him confused for a moment. He had that book in his library already, didn't he? So he studied it further, flipping through the first few pages only to find that not only was it a first edition copy, but it was signed too.

His eyes flicked to you as his hands traced the sign on the delicate page of the book before he snapped the book closed with a smile brighter than the star atop the tree. Jason immediately knew that his gift was from you since he had been ranting about how much he wanted this for the past month or so. His suspicions were confirmed by the smile on your face.

It was really hard to find it online and get it signed just for him, but you knew it would be worth it.

“You didn't.” Jason mumbled, finding the fact that he had this book in his hands as he clutched onto it like it might disappear into thin air.

The known-for-his-violent-ways Red Hood was now acting like a literal child on Christmas, completely awestruck and bringing you in a tight hug as he muttered his thank you's. His attitude earned a chuckle from you, his embrace giving you even more warmth while his heart was beating out of his chest.

Duke blinked a few times. The newest addition to the family was having a hard time trying to process the sight before him. “Is Jason okay, or is he having some sort of cardiac arrest?” he managed to mutter, his gaze shifting to everyone else laughing at his question.

Your gift consisted of newly made gadgets, upgraded equipment, and a personal touch with a vintage Polaroid to top it off – definitely Tim's job.

Yet you couldn't help but be thankful for those, given Dick's situation; shirts that were literally merchandise about his butt, an eye mask for power naps, and a ‘big brother manual’ book. “Whose idea was this?” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in mock annoyance, a small smile brightening his fine features.

“That's a brilliant idea, Dick.” Jason chimed in, not bothering to hide his usual smug smirk. It was definitely him who thought of that combination as a good Christmas gift for his older brother.

Meanwhile, Barbara wasn't having it easy either, with the present in her hands containing a vintage phone and a custom Lego set of Oracle. “A Nokia? Really?” She asked, a low chuckle escaping her lips as she turned to face Steph. “You're lucky I like Lego sets, but you're stuck in this with me.” Barb threatened playfully as she set the box by her side.

Stephanie raised her hands in the air in mock surrender, she didn't seem to mind the idea of building a custom Lego set in the company of Barbara; in fact, it was a good opportunity to spend a girl's night along with you and Cass while having a chit chat – or gossiping. “It's for emergencies. And the Lego set was cute.” She explained with a shrug.

“Fine. You'll see how cute it is when you have to build this many pieces.” Barb protested, her tone lacking real bite as she pointed back at the amount of pieces written on the box. “You're all invited to our suffering.” She commented jokingly, glancing at you and Cass.

Cass perked up at the idea, “I'll bring the snacks.” She said simply, her voice soothing as ever even as it held a bit of enthusiasm as she gave Barbara a thumbs-up.

Meanwhile, Dick was flipping through the pages of the manual and hastily reading the contents before he could comment on them. “Who wrote this?” He scoffed, shaking his head disapprovingly, and continued reading. “...’Always take responsibility for your siblings' mess-ups.’ Really, Jason?”

Jason leaned back in his seat and shrugged, his arms crossed over his chest as an amused huff escaped him. “Merry Christmas, Dick.”

Tim studied the merch, trying his best to bite back his laughter at what his eyes met while Duke observed alongside Damian, who decided to address the situation accordingly. “That was uncalled for, even by your appallingly low standards, Todd.”

Dick sighed and shook his head once more, yet he couldn't help the grin spreading across his face as he couldn't help but find the situation entertaining. “You're so getting payback next year. And I'm rigging the draw.” He stated as he tried on his nap mask with a proud smirk.

Bruce, sitting quietly by the fireplace with Alfred whom he had exchanged gifts with, took another sip of his coffee and sighed, allowing himself a small chuckle as he watched the banter unfold. He was prouder than he'd care to admit, of everyone in the room.

“Everyone, pause.” You interrupted every party in the room as you took hold of your brand-new Polaroid and held it out for a selfie, trying to make sure everyone was in the frame. “Say ‘Merry Christmas!’.” You exclaimed with pure excitement and messily snapped a picture, holding the moment forever captive.

– a/n; Merry Christmas and happy holidays in general ♡

[cipheress-to-k-pop]

bluetooth j.t.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A little suggestive if you squint

Word Count: 1.2k words

You don't know how you allowed yourself to get manipulated into being a girlboss and moving out of your childhood home to live in your own apartment. While it was nice to have your own privacy and decorate your home however you liked, you realized just how many privileges you lost now that you weren't in the care of your parents.

There was no one there to make sure you woke up on time in the few cases where you slept through your alarm, no one that you could call on your way back from work to ask to switch on the water heater so you could take a steamy shower immediately.

You didn't have your mother's homecooked meals and you didn't have your father to pick you up snacks from the grocery store.

And one of the biggest thorns in your side was the reason you were dreading the entire day. Car maintenance. The auto shop was one of the most daunting places in your life as a girl who knew nothing about cars. Never once had you regretted not learning how to take care of your car or even the procedure required when you eventually take your car down to the auto shop.

But now standing in the hot and dusty garage, you were seriously rethinking your life choices. You should've scheduled these things for when your dad was visiting so you could ask him to take it instead. Or, even better, you should've gotten a boyfriend.

You were complaining in your head, dragging your feet about having to be here in the first place and whined about handing your car keys, with a bunch of adorable keychains attached to some rando.

But when Jason Todd, 6'2 man with biceps that were larger than your own head and a body that looked like he was shaped out of marble by Michelangelo himself walked out with a form for you to fill out, you were all too happy to be there.

Perhaps you'd be leaving here with a boyfriend after all.

"I have to admit, I don't really know much about cars so please don't scam me."

Jason chuckled, a deep, hoarse laugh that made you a little weak in the knees honestly and the boy-crazed fraction of your brain began to imagine how he would sound as soon as he woke up next to you, after a night of—

"A bit of advice, you probably don't want to let scammers know that you have no idea what they're talking about."

You giggled, scolding yourself mentally for finding that funny.

'Come on, (Y/N), pull yourself together it wasn't even that funny. His face is just great delivery.'

"Or I could keep coming here and have you check my car, since you're so trustworthy." You mused, sparing him a teasing smile.

Jason was completely picking up what you were putting down, giving you a coy smile of his own before responding, "Or perhaps this is just a tactic to get you to keep coming back."

You narrowed your eyes playfully, "Devious."

Looking back at his little clipboard, a thin metal rod of some kind tucked behind his ear instead of a pen, Jason asked, "When was the last time you got your car checked out? If your battery and brake pad was replaced recently, we could probably skip that and just do a routine check to make sure everything's running smoothly."

You winced, "I couldn't tell you, honestly. My dad usually handles this kinda stuff for me, I'm still kind of a new lamb when it comes to taking care of my car."

Jason raised his eyes from the clipboard for a second, "Your boyfriend can't do this kinda stuff for you instead?"

"I don't have a boyfriend."

He perked up immediately and you ducked your head to hide your smile, "I'm sure you probably have a record of it in your glovebox or something. Most places keep a little sticker with the date of your last service under the dash. I'll check it out for you, do you have somewhere to be, or do you have a couple minutes so I can make sure?"

You shook your head, shrugging your shoulders with a carefree smile, "It's my day off so I'm free as a bird."

He grinned, "Noted. Just give me a second."

You watched his back receding as he walked toward your car, shoulders looking like they could span the entire ocean and it was only when he was sat in the car and had turned on the engine did you whip out your phone at lightspeed.

"Ohmygosh Julie, I think I just met my future husband. Holy shit. He's so cute—gorgeous actually. He's working on my car right now and God, those arms, wow. And those eyes? God, I feel blessed just by looking at his face." The end of your message was interrupted by another mechanic running the engine.

You waited patiently for the sound of the engine to die before replaying the voice message so you could re-record the part that got cut off. Only you couldn't hear a thing.

Confused, you increased the volume, taking a sip from your coffee to soothe the inhumane squeal that you had let out while sending Julie the voice message. Once again you heard nothing.

You bit your lip at this, swiping down at the corner of your phone at access your control center and realizing the reason you couldn't hear anything was because it was connected to the Bluetooth on your car.

Wait.

THE CAR?!

You whipped around in horror only to find Jason smirking at you from the front seat of your car. If the world were fair, you'd be struck down with lightning right then and there. Or, since you were at an auto shop, a sentient car might run you over.

Alas, you continued to stand there in horror, completely unharmed no matter how badly you wished to be reduced to a puddle on the ground.

You called him your future husband. The ground should've swallowed you then and there. Instead, you just stood there in complete mortification and embarrassment while you stared at his amused expression.

Something startled him out of his gaze for a second and he pointed at your console, making a gesture like he was taking a call. Confused, you glanced at your phone.

'Incoming call: Julie'

Ah, saved by the bell.

*

"How much do I owe you?" You asked, quickly popping open your purse to fish out your credit card. You had stretched out the conversation with Julie as long as possible, begging her not to hang up and only interrupting her tangent when Jason finally came up to you, saying that your car was good to go.

"It's on the house." He gave you a charming grin, leaning an arm against the counter, "Can't have my future wife paying for anything, can I?"

Your cheeks flared red, still holding out your card for him to take, "O-Oh, I couldn't, really."

"If you insist, then you can always repay me with dinner. Today's your day off, right? Think you can pencil me in for 7?"

A shy smile grew on your face, your body so warm you had to resist fanning your burning cheeks, "Sounds like a plan."

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@emmacata

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

[b3ach-bunn7]

RIGHT SIDE OF MY NECK

You hate your coworker Jason Todd. Despite this, the tow of you have been given the same client and are forced to work together

enemies to lovers, NSFW, office sex, confessions

(This is quite long 😓 a fair warning!)

—————————————————————————

You hate Jason Todd. So much. So impossibly so. 

You’d met three years ago when you’d joined the RH firm. It was one of the biggest in Gotham, known for its impeccable lawyers and cutthroat attitude. You don’t lose a case when you hire someone from RH, and especially not when it’s Jason Todd.

You’d been excited to meet him at first. Any lawyer worth their salt would be. You always looked out for his name in the news, when he’d be on the stand once more. You’d even sat in on one of his trials, watched in awe at the way he commandeered a room, his strong voice bouncing off the walls. There was no doubting, even now with your ever present hatred, that Jason Todd is amazing at what he does.

He’s also so gorgeous.

You’re sure he was some sort of superhero in another life, because he is so jacked. You remember the day the office had gone to the bar on a random Friday, and he’d worn this tight fit short sleeve shirt. And his muscles were almost tearing the fabric, and you’re ninety nine percent sure when he stretched up, the hem of his shirt lifted and he had a six pack hiding underneath there. His hair was greying but it made him look better, soft brown and white curls always perfectly styled over his face. And those eyes. So piercing, so guarded. When he looks at you it feels like he can read every single thought racing through your brain.

It is just such a shame he is so insufferably annoying.

So cocky, so vain. It’s no surprise that he is, most lawyers are. You need to think that you’re the best because that confidence boost does wonders in court. But he is just so annoying with it. Always bragging, always has something smart to say to you. And the worst part is he looks so proud of himself afterwards, a stupid smirk on his face after he successfully pisses you off. 

You can’t even remember when it started. A few days after you’d started, a petty squabble here and there and a disagreement every now and then. You were a strong personality and he wanted everything his way, and it didn’t end well for either of you. The icing on the cake was when you’d been given a case that he had wanted, and it seemed to solidify the little squabbles between you two.

You can hear him before you see him. Footsteps that command respect as they thump up to your door. He doesn’t knock, just swings it open and invites himself in. Shirt perfectly ironed and pressed against the hard planes of his chest. Perfect knot on his tie. It’s not fair he can look this good at work. Your eyes flit over him once more, before you look back down at your screen.

“Knock before you walk into my office.” You snap.

“Woah, what’s with the attitude? It’s still early, love.” 

You scowl at him and the smile on his face widens. You mumble some choice words under your breath and shut your laptop.

“Don’t call me that. And what do you want?”

Jason drops some files on your desk. You flick through them, biting the end of your pen as you scan them quickly. There's a client that needs help settling a dispute over some plot of land in some important part of Gotham. Not that any part of Gotham is that important.

“Is this for me?” When a reply doesn’t come quickly, you glance up, and Jason is just staring at you. 

You wave a hand in the air. “Hello? Did you come in here to stare at me?”

He seems to snap out of it quickly, reaching forward and grabbing the papers from in front of you. “Boss wants us to work on this together.”

Fuck.

“Why?” You groan. “Does he want me to kill myself?” 

“My dreams are not common, unfortunately.”

You make a face at him and he huffs a laugh. “The guy is a real tool. I’ve worked with him before, so be prepared to get pissed off.”

You sit back in your chair, hand over your face. You wave him off. “Okay. Goodbye.”

“Meeting is at three.”

“Goodbye.” 

“In conference room B.” 

“Jason Todd, so help me.”

He leaves then, hands up in surrender, ignoring your shouts to shut your door behind him.

You finish up the stuff you need to do, and psyche yourself up for this meeting. You kid yourself that you won’t need to spend that long with Jason. Everything will be fine.

When you walk into the conference room, Jason is already talking to him. Micheal Battersby, a man whose money was the only good thing about him. You don’t like him the second you lay your eyes on him, especially with the leery way he’s looking at you. But you plaster on a smile, holding out a hand and introducing yourself.

“Wow. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He grins at you and his teeth are too white.

“Thank you. I assume Jason’s run over most of the agenda with you?” You decide not to comment too much on his compliment.

When you turn to Jason, he looks angry. He’s clenching his jaw and when his eyes meet yours you almost fall back a bit. But in a moment it’s gone, and he’s back to his customer service smile.

“Yes, the first half.”

You spend the next few minutes working through the rest of your paper with him. Jason doesn’t talk as much as you’d think, just occasionally chimes in when need be. Just when you think you can finish up and get away from Michael’s horrible attempts at flirting, one of the office interns pops her head through the door.

“There’s a phone call for you, Y/N.” 

Of course there is. You turn to the two men, quickly getting up. “I’ll be back shortly.” You smile.

And it’s your mother. Asking when you’ll see her. How she can only ever reach you when she calls your work. 

“Mom, please, I’m busy.” You whisper into the phone, looking back at the rooms door.

“Oh, I won’t be long, darling.”

You entertain her for as long as you can, before you’re rushing back to the conference room. Before you can walk in, Jason storms out the room. He shoves past you and you frown. A peek tells you Micheal is still sitting down, looking a little fussed. Jason’s annoying, but you’d much rather be around him than creepy Micheal, so you quickly rush after him.

“What happened?”

“We’re done. Told him to go home.” He grunts, not even turning to look at you. Irritation laces his voice and you wonder what you missed.

“So now what?”

Jason reaches his office door and sighs irritably. He turns to look at you and you take a quick step back at how close he’s standing. 

“Come to my office at five, we can work on the terms. I’ll set a meeting for tomorrow to give them to him.”

You don’t have time to reply before he’s slamming the door in your face.

—-

Time does not seem to fly waiting for five o’clock to come around. Jason had given you two hours, probably to finish up the work you were doing before, but for some reason you’re so nervous about being alone in his office, that you just sit in your office, thinking.

You play a random show in the background and decide now is a good of a time as any to eat your lunch. You chew slowly and purposefully and watch Ross and Rachel argue about something for the millionth time.

You decide, after the clock strikes 2:47, that being thirteen minutes early won’t hurt. You grab your laptop and walk your way to his office, adjusting your pencil skirt and making sure you haven’t sweat through your white blouse. You make sure there’s no mascara under your eyes and knock very impatiently on the door, until an annoyed voice tells you to come in.

You shoot Jason a too sweet smile and he raises a brow. “You’re thirteen minutes early.” 

“What can I say, I have a good work ethic. You could learn a thing or two.”

Jason scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you left our client in the conference room on his own, and stormed out.”

“I didn’t storm out.”

“Uh, yeah, you did. You look super pissed too.” You sit down in the chair in front of his desk.

You’ve been in Jason’s office a couple of times before, but you let yourself take a proper look at it this time. It’s quite minimalist. You have pictures of your friends and family, and gifts from clients all over the room. But his office is void of most things personal, or just most things at all. 

There’s a few plants on his shelves, and only one picture frame with him and three other guys, one of them quite younger than the rest. Jason’s never mentioned his brothers but then again, you guys don’t really talk.

The one thing that is all over his room is books. You find yourself reading the titles from where you’re sitting, head tilting slightly.

“You alright there?” 

You turn back to him to find him staring at you again. You feel like that’s been happening a lot recently. “Just surprised you could read, is all.”

“Ha ha. Shut up.”

You keep looking at the books. “Hey, you have Agatha Christie’s books. I love her books?”

Jason tilts his head a little. “Really?”

“Yeah! My mum got me into them when I was younger. The ABC murders is my favourite.”

Jason studies you for a moment. “Who knew you knew good literature?”

“I know good everything, Todd. Now what does flirty old Micheal want?” You say, flipping Jason’s laptop around to read what he’s writing.

You laugh a little at the way his face falls. “What is your problem with him?”

“He’s fucking annoying. And every word out of his mouth is a brag, and it’s never even things worth bragging about.” 

“True. He likes to look too. At things he probably shouldn’t be looking at.” You say, eyes still on the laptop.

“What?”

“Yeah, he's kinda leery, but. It’s fine. I’m not going to be around him long, so. I’ll make do.” You shrug.

“It’s not fine. That’s fucking gross.”

Your eyes widen slightly. He seemed so annoyed for you. It was weird. Usually he was just annoyed at you.

“Yeah, well. What am I going to do? This is good business for the firm, and it’s not like he’s going to do anything.” 

Jason scoffs. A prickle of annoyance runs through your body. “You don’t know that.”

“I think I can handle myself.” You frown.

“Sure you can.”

You don’t like the tone in his voice. “You disagree?”

“What? I didn't say anything.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Oh my god. Can we just get this done?”

The two of you work in silence for a few minutes. There’s a weird tension in the room, and you’re more confused than anything else. You can’t tell if Jason was mad at you or at Micheal. You don’t even know why he’s so mad. It’s all very confusing, and the pathetic sandwich you’d bought for your lunch, that you didn’t even finish, has done nothing to ease your hunger.

After about half an hour of silent work, you glance up at Jason. He looks good when he’s focusing like that. It’s unfortunate your brain supplies you with such thoughts, because you are supposed to be mad at him. But he’s biting the inside of his cheek and he looks so good, it cannot be helped.

“You have a real bad staring problem.”

You shoot him a glare. “Shut up.”

You close your laptop quickly, eager to change the subject. “I’m hungry. Can we order food?”

You are almost 100% sure he is well aware you’re trying to do so, but he lets it slide. “We need to work.”

“We can work and eat. We’ll force one of the interns to get us food.” You whisper the last words and he smiles slightly.

“I guess.”

“Great. Thanks for paying.”

“I didn’t-“

“Thanks for paying!”

—-

You’re kind of excited for the meeting with Micheal. Not because of Micheal. Because of Jason.

Yesterday was fun. He did actually pay for the food, and the weird little argument you had about Micheal was forgotten once it had arrived. You’d gotten shawarma sandwiches from the place down the street, the owner a guy who you’d been buying from forever.

It was weird. You don’t think you’d ever have a conversation that’s lasted longer than five minutes with Jason that didn’t end in someone saying something snarky or rude or petty. But it turns out that he’s actually fun to be around, oddly enough. Maybe your hatred was far-fetched.

You’d worn your red blouse today, and the same penciI skirt you wore most days. You wanted to look good today, it’d help you feel good. That’s what you told yourself at least. There’s no other reason you’d want to look good. You walk into conference room B, at 12:45 in the afternoon, fifteen minutes before the meeting. You plug in some headphones and play some solitaire to pass the time.

Then it turns to one, and nobody walks in. Not Jason and not Micheal. You drum your fingers against the desk impatiently. It’s fine one of them being late, but both? Something feels off. 

You get up, heels clicking against the floor as you walk over to Star, the red-head receptionist everybody is obsessed with. She’s kind and bubbly and from abroad, her innocent curiosity about everything in Gotham made her fun to be around. She gives you a beaming smile as you walk over.

“Hi, Star.”

“Hiya! May I be of any assistance?” There’s a little foreign twinge to her accent you’ve never been able to figure out.

“Yeah, actually. Have you seen Jason? We were supposed to be meeting with a client at one but they both haven’t showed.” 

Star looks confused. She blinks big green eyes up at you. “But Jason already had his meeting.”

You freeze. “What?”

“Well, he called me last night and told me to move it to 11:30. And they finished up and left. Jason is in his office.” Star gets quieter as the look on your face gets angrier.

“Are you kidding me right now?”

“No! No, you can go ask him.” 

You take a breath in, steeling yourself. “I’m sorry, Star. It’s not you I’m mad at.” 

You can’t believe him. Just when you think he’s different, that he’s not as big of a dick as you’d thought, he pulls some shit like this.

You leave your stuff in the conference room and all but run away to his office. You don’t knock, don’t even announce yourself. You’re sure that the angry click of your heels down the corridors was tell enough you were arriving. The door swings open and Jason is sitting at his desk. He looks up at you, eyes lingering on your body for a second, before he looks back down. He doesn’t say a word.

“You’re just gonna fucking sit there? Not say anything?”

Jason shrugs, leaning back in his chair. Long legs stretch under his desks. “What is it you’d like me to say?”

You frown. “Something? We were supposed to talk to the client together. We planned everything together. And not only did you do it without me, but you changed the date so I wouldn’t even know about it!”

He just looks at you. Those piercing eyes stare right through your soul. 

“Todd, fucking say something!” You yell.

“There’s no need for all the hostility. You can discuss this with me like a mature adult, you know.” 

And his voice is so condescending, and he looks at you with this look on his face that makes you want to throttle him. 

“You are not the mature one here. I mean, changing the times so I would show up to an empty room? That’s middle school shit.” You scoff and he just sighs.

“Look. I meant nothing by it.”

“So you’re a dick and a liar. Very good to know.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Can you calm down?”

You laugh, a hand halting from where it was toying with your hair. “No. I can’t calm down. Because you are so insufferable. And I knew working on this stupid client with you would drive me crazy.”

Jason’s eyebrows furrow. “I’m insufferable? You’re the one freaking out over shit that doesn’t matter.” He stands up, and you try not to let his towering height intimidate you.

“It does matter, because it means you don’t respect me and my work. It was a shitty thing to do, Jason. How can’t you see that?”

He scoffs. “That little meeting means that much to you? If you wanted to see Micheal so bad you could I’ve just told me.”

“What- What are you even talking about?” 

Jason just looks angry. He turns away, not replying, and you’ve had enough. You don’t want him to see the hurt on your face so you turn away too.

“God, I actually hate you, Jason. So much.” 

And you storm off. Fully intending to, at least. But the soft way he speaks his next words, so jarring from the yelling only moments ago, stops you with your hand almost at the door.

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t turn when you speak. “And how do you figure that?”

“Because I’m not stupid. Or blind.”

When you finally look back at him, he’s still standing behind his desk, but he seems much more relaxed. Like he’s just figured out something especially difficult, and he smiles.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You don’t think I notice how much you stare at me?”

Your face burns and his smile turns into something much more dangerous. “I- I don’t stare at you.”

“Oh, that stutter is not very convincing. I know you better than that, love.” 

He slowly starts making his way towards you. Very 

 slowly edging around his desk. You back up the small distance remaining between you and the door, to try and assert some dominance. 

“Always staring when you think I’m not looking. And those rare times I do catch you, your face turns that delicious colour it’s turning right now.” He nods. He slowly reaches up and undoes his tie, fingers curling under the knot until it lies flat against his chest.

“You get so worked up when I tease you. Why do you think I do it so much?”

“Because you’re annoying.” You try to sound as rude as you can, but your voice sounds awfully breathy.

Jason slowly undoes the buttons in his cuffs. “Nah, you love it. I can tell. I’m very good at reading people, see. And I’ve been testing you. How well you respond to me.” 

Fucking hell. What is going on right now? You think the logical thing to do is just leave, but Jason is now pulling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, rolling them carefully, and the sight is enough to throw every ounce of logic out the window.

“You wanna know why I didn’t let you in on the meetings? Because Micheal likes you. A lot.”

“I don’t-“

“You should’ve heard the way he spoke about you when you walked out the room.” 

He’s closer now, enough that if you walked three steps forward you’d be touching. 

“Made me punch him in the face. Kick him out the building right there and then. Did you know that?”

Your heart stutters in your chest, hope fluttering in your stomach. “No. I didn’t.”

He just nods again. And his eyes don’t leave you for a second, not even when you shamelessly take in the sight of him in front of you.

“I was jealous, you see. But it was dumb of me to  be jealous because you don’t like him. You like me.”

You scoff, laughing nervously. You shake your head. “No. No, I don’t like you. What-“

“It’s why you’re so mad about the fact you weren’t there. You want me to notice you. You want my attention.” 

And he closes the distance between you two. His hand twitches at his side like he wants to reach up and touch you, but he doesn’t. His height is so much more obvious this close, and you have to look up to meet his eyes.

“You have it. You always have.” He swallows roughly. 

“So I’m giving you a choice. You can leave right now, and it won’t change anything between us, and we can pretend this never happened.”

You just look at him. You don’t think you could speak if you tried. Not when he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you.

“Or you can stay. And I’ll give you that attention you’ve been begging for.”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck.

He’s waiting. He’s waiting patiently but you can see the flicker of doubt and rejection growing bigger in his eyes. And you think about how much you hate him, how angry he makes you feel, how much he goes out of his way to tease you, how mad you were literally seconds ago.

And you reach up and kiss him.

It’s hot and heavy and desperate, and you feel like two teenagers hooking up before your parents get home. His hands slide up your waist, your chest, land on your face to pull you closer.

“Knew it, I knew you liked me.” He says between kisses, breathing hard.

“Shut up.” You mumble kissing him harder.

Your lipstick stains his mouth and your stomach turns at the sight. Jason fingers the collar of your blouse, the deep red fabric sliding between his fingers. 

“You know my favourite colour is red?”

“I do now.”  

He smirks into your skin, kissing down to the small triangle of skin showing from your three open buttons. He sucks a mark into your skin and you sigh, hand tangling in his hair. 

“You’re so soft. Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, immediately reaching up to help him unbotton it.

Your shirt falls to the floor as it slides off your back and Jason groans at the sight of you in front of him. You smile slightly, face heating a little at those eyes looking at you so hard. 

“Like what you see?”

He just nods, hands reaching back to fumble with your bra. It brings his face closer and you press a kiss on his lips again, tongue tangling with his. His fingers stutter in their movements, but the bite to his bottom lips spurs him back to action. Your bra joins your shirt, and his hands reach up and cup your chest, calloused hands massaging your skin, thumb brushing against your nipple. You sigh, head leaning back on the door.

You jolt slightly as he pinches one hard, and you glare at him. He just kisses you again. 

“I love when you look at me like that.”

“Masochist.”

“Oh, you don’t even know, baby.”

You pinches your nipple again and swallows your protests in his mouth. Your hands travel against his chest, trying to unbutton his shirt. He stops his ministrations on your breast to grab both your hands in one of his.

“No touching.”

“I’m literally half naked and you’re still fully dressed. This doesn’t feel very fair.”

Jason just grins. “I wanna take my time with you. I’ve been waiting forever for this.”

His words distract you enough that you don’t react immediately when he kneels down, pushing your skirt up past your thighs and bunching it around your waist. He toys with your underwear and your face burns.

“Jason-“

“You need to be quiet, okay?” He reaches up and locks his office door, his eyes focused on something different for once.

“Okay. That’s fine.” You nod frantically, gripping his shoulder for support.

Jason slides your underwear down your legs, lifting up your feet so he can throw them to the side. He hooks one leg over his shoulder and you wonder how mortifying it would be if someone walked in, saw how exposed you were and the pure lust that Jason is looking at you with. He presses a kiss to the side of your leg, travelling up slowly.

“Fucking hell, Jason, come on.” You whine.

He tuts, biting the soft skin on your thigh. “Let me savour this.”

“Savour it faster. I’d have thought you of all-“

And you’re interrupted as Jason licks a stripe up your cunt, tongue dipping in to graze against your clit. You gasp slightly, and it spurs him on, licking deeper and faster, and you’re embarrassed at how wet you sound from just kissing him. But you don’t have much time to be embarrassed because your eyes are fluttering shut as he eats you with a fervour that makes your skin flush.

And of course Jason is the best head you’ve ever had, because of course Jason needs to be the best at everything. He sucks your clit once, twice and you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your moans. He grins, bringing his hands up to spread your lips open.

“You like that, huh? Didn’t think you’d be so sensitive.” 

He kisses your lips and you sigh, hands tugging at his hair. He groans as you do so, and you’ll remember that little tidbit for later. Your breathing stutters more as he speed ships ministrations, and with each muffled moan and twitch of your hips he draws you closer and closer to finish. And it’s after one more long, exaggerated suck of your clit that you cum, and he drags you through it.

“Oh, such a pretty mess for me.” He groans, and you twitch as his fingers slap your cunt once.

You feel like you might pass out, but when he stands back up you can see yourself glistening on his lips. And when he starts unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a six-pack (you were right before) you think you could go another hundred times. You’re about to slip of your heels but he tells you to keep them on. It’s hotter, apparently.

He pulls you over to his desk and you watch the ripple of muscle in his back. He leans you against his desk. You let your hands trace down his body, muscles and abs stretching beneath your skin. The rush from before feels different now, and you want to savour him too.

“Fuck, you’re so ripped.”

He laughs, nosing the crook of your neck. He licks a stripe against your pulse and you push him away.

“Hey, no marks. Visible ones, at least.” You scold and he rolls his eyes.

He traces lightly over the ones he left earlier. Looking at you fondly. You reach down and unbuckle his belt. You slide it out slowly, placing it on the desk. He just watches you closely.

“You have no idea how gorgeous you look right now.”

You smile bashfully. Your hair is a mess where he’d been tangling it in his hands, your chest covered in marks and your skirt wrinkles from where it’s still bunched at your waist. You’re sure you look a mess, but you appreciate the thought. 

“Are you gonna fuck me now?”

Jason’s breathes deeply, and his hold on your waist tightens as you unbutton his trousers. 

“That what you want?”

“Mhm.”

He places your hands at your side. Kisses into your mouth once more, wet and teasing. And when his hand reaches into his boxers you have to stop your mouth from dropping, because, of course he’s as well endowed as he is.

“You like what you see?” He teases and you sigh.

He leans forward until his forehead brushes yours, and he guides himself to your entrance. And just waits. You buck your hips and it pushes him against your clit and you whine.

“Jason. What are you waiting for?”

“Tell me what you want.”

You glare at him. “You know what I want.”

“No, I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” 

Your face heats slightly. “I. I want you to fuck me.”

Jason nods. “Again. Without the stutter this time.”

Fucking hell. “I want you to fuck me, Jason. Please, oh please will you- fuck!”

And he presses into you so suddenly, and fills you up in a way that has your mouth open in a silent scream, your head falls on his shoulder, nails digging into his back. He doesn’t move, lets you adjust for a moment, and when he does, he drags deliciously against your walls. He’s so thick, and you moan as he moves faster.

“You’re doing so well. Taking me so well.” He moans into your ear, his breath hot and heavy.

The room smells like sweat and sex, and it’s so easy to forget everything when your eyes are screwed shut and he is leaning his arms either side of you, bracing himself on his desk.  

It’s not so easy to forget when someone knocks at his office door. It’s then you remember that you’re actually at work and you are having sex at work in your coworker’s office at work. 

You and Jason immediately freeze, and you think you might die if the two of you get caught.

“Who is it?” 

“It is Star!”

You curse under your breath, leaning your head on his chest. He runs a hand through your hair. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes. I just had some papers to give you. And also Y/N was very angry with you.”

Jason grins down at you. “Really?”

“Yes. Did you speak to her?”

He nods. “Mhm we hashed things out. She understood that I was right, and it was fine.”

You scowl at him. Star tries the door again and he rattles some excuse about how he’s in an online meeting. You then remember the position the two of you are in, and you think a little bit of payback is necessary.

“Yeah, when I finish off we can- fuck.” He groans as you push your hips forward, and he fixes you with a look so dangerous it nearly makes you stop. Nearly.

“Is everything okay?” Star yells.

“Yes! Yes I just- I- I stubbed my toe.” Jason squeezed out.

“Oh. Would you like me to bring some first-aid?”

“Not necessary and I’m really sorry but I need to go. Just leave the papers at the door.”

“Okay. Goodbye!”

He waits a second until he hears her walking away, before he thrusts into you harshly and you gasp.

“You think that’s funny?”

You moan, bracing yourself on his chest. “A-A little.” You grin.

“Yeah?”

And then he lifts you up effortlessly, like you weight nothing, sitting you on his desk. And like this he can reach that spot that only so many men knew even existed, and you have to bite your fist to keep from screaming. And he’s consistent, pumping into you long and hard every time. His brow sweats and you can feel tears brimming in your eyes.

“You like that?”

You can’t even respond. Just try to keep your noises to a minimum.

“Aw, why are we so quiet now? Where’d all that confidence go?” He drawls, and some tears do fall when his fingers reach down to rub fast circles on your clit.

“Want you to cum for me. And I want you to look at me when you do it. I wanna see.”

And the eye contact is so intimate, and you can’t imagine that just yesterday you were loathing at the thought of him. And when you cum on his fingers his face scrunches as you tighten around him. 

“That’s my good girl. Fuck, so good for me.” He mumbles.

He doesn’t stop though. He still hasn’t finished and you don’t know if you can take it. You tell him as much and he shakes his head.

“You can. I know you can, baby. Because you’re so needy for it. Letting me fuck you in my office at work. Anyone could hear you, could walk in. And see you spread on my desk like this..” He says, his words interrupted by heavy breaths and stutters.

And it’s only a few seconds before you break away from the overstimulation and it feels good again. You nails scratch against his back and kisses your chest, your neck, your face. Whatever he can get his lips on.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Want you to come with me, yeah?”

“Jason, no, I- I can’t.”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Cum one more time. I know you got it in you, baby. 

You shake your head but there’s no protests on your lips as his fingers find your clit once more. And its to the sounds of the two of you breathing and moaning and Jason’s whispered praises that you both finish, and he whimpers, and you think you can die happy.

“Baby, you did so well.” He sighs.

He reaches down again. Before you can tell him to really fuck off, you feel the familiar lace of you underwear being slipped around your heels, your feet. He drags them up your leg and he stands you up, and you have to hold onto his arm so you don’t fall. He pulls up your underwear and you wince, the feeling of his cum still inside of you, and he pulls down your skirt and pats your ass.

“Jason. This is gross, how am I gonna work for the next three hours like this?”

“You can go home and shower. Tell them you’re sick.”

“With your cum dripping down my legs?” You drawl.

“Think of it as a little reminder of me on your way.”

—————————————————————————-

ugh jason Todd let’s make OUUTTTTTTTTT. My last jason Todd fic is on like 500 notes!!!!! Thank u sm for the love everyone

If u couldn’t tell I like writing characters in just the everyday life.. I love an alternate universe and I was watching suits and that’s how this fic came to be!

For those new to my account, this is the third NSFW fic I’ve written so plz be nice 😖 I have also never felt the touch of a man so… this is also probably inaccurate

And I also just wanna say thank you so much to every who leaves comments and reposts and likes my stuff. It genuinely means so so much to me that you enjoy the work I put out, because I love writing it!

anyways I hope u all enjoyed 🩷 I am struggling to think of ideas, so now is the best time to leave me some asks!!

[ta-ns]

Arguing with Jason Todd

Synopsis: fem reader and Jason getting into an argument no angst just fluff ~ enjoy (approximately 1,170 word count)

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You don’t remember how it started at this point, what you had even argued about before it spiraled out of control because yes Jason is stubborn but so are you. Words were said and eventually you tried to leave, packing things up in a backpack and heading to the bathroom to grab your personal hygiene items which led to an even more upset Jason who was currently blocking the doorway of the bathroom like a damn troll to the secret passageway that demands a price.

His broad shoulders covering the doorway easily, the low moonlight outside casting a glow against his back that honestly makes him that much more horrifying. How criminals and crooked people even try to run from him escapes you because the man looks scary when he’s mad. Those beautiful jade green eyes narrowed into slits, locking onto your own unyielding gaze.

“Move Jason.” The words leave your lips like daggers, daggers dipped in poison with a viscosity rivaling the thickest sludge known to human kind. Jason for his part is unperturbed. “Watch it princess, don’t get smart with me.” His words are the opposite of yours dripping in venom, no his are cold and as sturdy as the Himalayas themselves.

As immovable as Mount Everest. “Fine. Watch this jackass.” And with that as quickly as you can manage you’re ripping open the window of the bathroom and yanking away the screen cover and grabbing the window sill with greedy fingers.

You’re quick but Jason Todd is a hell of a lot quicker, warm and large hands wrapping around your waist and pulling. But that stubbornness running in your veins is not to be taken lightly, no not when you’re like a cat with the curtains caught between your claws. Jason is firm in his pulling but you can tell he’s using hardly any strength out of fear of hurting you.

“Let go Y/N, this isn’t a fight you’re winning.” His voice rumbles through your chest and usually this would be nice but today the anger in you is about as vast as the Pacific Ocean is large. “I’m ganna scream.” You threaten and Jason scoffs at that not believing you in the slightest.

And that is probably what sent you over the edge and so you scream. Screaming bloody murder at the top of your lungs, the sound shrill, high, and bouncing off the bathroom walls and into the quiet of the night. You can’t see but Jason’s eyes widen impossibly and quickly he clamps a thick hand over your lips. “Are you crazy?!”

He bites out as he exerts a bit more strength and shifts positions, pulling himself between you and the window sill and now you’re fighting against his weight which is like fighting a wall but that doesn’t deter you even as your grip wanes and you’re pulled from the window, no you start thrashing and wiggling and flipping and pushing like a fish out of water.

Doing anything and everything to get his grip to loosen, curses and profanities that would make a sailor look like a saint, the murmured words unintelligible against Jason’s hands but the intent and meaning not disturbed.

Jason’s own anger is swirling like a c5 tornado as he expertly manipulates your body gently but firmly to press you against the wall and keeping you from moving with his weight. Pressing against you till all the fights drained from your body. Your chest heaving as you glare at him over his hand over your mouth.

He can feel the way your body goes limp and lax and glares down at you. “If I move my hand and you start screaming and cursing I’m going to gag you babe. Understand?” Of course you nod cause there’s really not much other choices and when his hand is removed the profanities and illicit words are spilling from your beautiful lips but this time in a whole other language and Jason’s hand is right back around your mouth waiting till you settle down again.

His determination is unwavering, a part of him is honestly in admiration over how stubborn you can be sometimes. Your sass like no other sometimes. “Still being a smartass?” He voice is like whiskey as it rumbles through you and he removes his hand, his gaze pointed at you. “Still being a dick?”

You bite back and at this point all Jason can do is gaze at you in almost awe, who knows how much time has passed since you two started almost wrestling and here you are physically exhausted but that fire or rather inferno in your eyes is still roaring. The corners of his lips curl up slightly in amusement.

He can’t help it as he starts softly scoffing. A scoff that turns into a chuckle that somehow makes you start giggling. Both of you egging eachother on till you’re both laughing out loud, laughter bouncing off the walls of the enclosed bathroom, laughing till you can’t even try feeling angry, laughing till there are tears in your eyes and your stomach feels like it just developed abs and he’s leaning into you against the wall not because he’s trying to pin you but simply because he’s laughing so hard.

And so the argument passes away, the embers dying in the breeze of laughter because neither of you remember how it started anyways. You’ll probably argue again in the future because unfortunately you’re both still imperfect people but just like this one it’ll be snuffed out, that’s what love does.

Love bears all things and by golly Jason would rather dive into the depths of that wretched Lazarus pit than let an argument become an impediment in your relationship. And you love him more than enough to swim into the depths of that pit just to pull him out. And that will prove true time and time again.